Lilah

by Gemma Liviero

‘I know that he abandoned me,’ she responded. ‘There is no other description.’

  ‘Oh. I see,’ said Beatrice. ‘Later we can talk. For now please go upstairs. A bath has been poured for you to freshen and I have left a new dress for you.’

  Chapter 15

  Beatrice

  The girl, my granddaughter, was most unusual. She was graceful in appearance with her witch-like youth and small breasts hidden beneath her bodice, which also accentuated her slim figure. From the way Gabriel looked at her I could tell straight away that he was infatuated. I was a little envious. He never looked that way at me, but I could hardly expect otherwise. It was not like I was ever faithful. It was why we were drawn together in the first place. He was the eternal philanderer so this new state I found him in was perplexing. She was interesting but not as beautiful as me. How else to describe her: unaffected and charming perhaps in a deer-like way. Her life had become a tedious dedication to all things pure. I couldn’t think of anything worse. She relied on God to guide her. Pooh! No such thing, of course. One made it happen as I have done.

  I did not love poor Andrew and slept with others while we were together, even his brothers, but most assuredly Stephen was his child. I made sure of it. Most witches cannot be bothered but I wanted to birth a child of my own and legitimately a royal one. However, after Andrew died my monarchial aspirations ceased and I sought out Lewis to convert. I have lived through my first sleep in the earth until my ageing personal assistant woke me as instructed. I had thought that perhaps I would have a son willing to convert also, to keep me company. He thought no such thing. It wasn’t that he didn’t love me of course, or accept me as his mother, but he found God early and chose a life of piety. Unfortunately my taking him to Venice meant he found that silly puffed up wife also.

  Much to my disappointment they married and lived with me for a time. After he died, I was melancholy and went to sleep. When I awoke Tomasina had departed with her other child. I had been against Lilah going and could have stopped it but have never been able to deny Stephen anything. Seeing Lilah again, I can see my son. For that reason alone I think I could love her. Though, many who know me would laugh that I was capable of such sentiment.

  I had thought many times of retrieving Stephen’s bones but at his bedside promised him I would not try and revive him with the dark arts as he often referred to it. I reflect that perhaps he was a child born of woe and happiest on the day he knew he would die. My Stephen. My one regret. To make absolutely certain that no resurrection would occur, Tomasina had dug up his bones while I slept and taken them with her. I was angry and tried to read her mind but Stephen had taught her some tricks and she did not reveal. If not for Stephen’s son I would have killed her then.

  Lilah looked back as she mounted the stairs. She was afraid to be parted from Gabriel.

  ‘She is quite extraordinary,’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ she is.

  ‘You are fighting a dangerous game you cannot win.’

  ‘Whatever are you talking about Beatrice?’

  ‘You want her yet she is married to a powerful strigoi. Are you sure you can win her and not come out unscathed.’

  ‘I will not do anything stupid. Since when do you care?’

  ‘Oh, perhaps I do. I do not want everyone for myself. I knew I could never hold your attention too long. Which is why I am surprised. Does she know that you desire her?’

  ‘It is best left unspoken between us. I have already broken her heart once and now there is a child. I cannot risk her life.’

  ‘Oh yes, the child. I had a vision about her the other day. She will run the coven one day.’

  Gabriel’s eyes widened and he looked pale. ‘It is not possible. Lilah plans to steal her child away. Perhaps you are mistaken.’

  ‘Perhaps I am,’ I said. ‘I am surprised that my son did not bring himself back from the dead to rescue his daughter from her happenstance.’

  ‘No need to rub salt in my wound. There are many times I have thought that I should have taken her elsewhere. I have often wondered whether my decision was partly borne from my sometime selfish soul.’

  ‘Soul? Darling, we have no soul once we’ve changed,’ said Beatrice ironically. ‘Have you not heard the gypsy stories?’

  He laughed then and it was as if no time had gone between us.

  ‘Lewis it seems is mellowing these days. He looks after her well.’

  ‘It is perhaps his age. Once he sleeps she may try and leave but it will not matter. He will find her or they will return. I would say send her to me but it is the first place Lewis will come to.’

  We talked then of the past. I must admit the news from the coven was always dull but Gabriel was easy on the eye and just looking at him made me feel alive. But always the subject of Lilah returned.

  ‘You must tell her about her father. It should come from you, Beatrice. At least then I have not done everything against Stephen’s word.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  ‘She does not trust you yet. So go carefully.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I will do as I wish Gabriel, as I have always done. Remember she came to me not the other way round. I have nothing to lose, least of all a relationship my granddaughter does not seek.’

  Lilah

  The walls in my room were papered with olive coloured flowers between yellowing stripes of cream. The wallpaper peeled in the corners and hand prints marked the furniture, which had not been dusted in months. The curtains had similar stripes and the rugs, though once extravagantly thick, were threadbare in places. It was clear that money was not wasted on unoccupied rooms. I put on the dress she laid out for me. It was simple, not overdone with frippery: midnight blue, without trim, and the skirt fell full from the waist to the earth. She was aware of my taste.

  There was a knock at the door and Beatrice entered carrying a tray of food. I was surprised that a woman in her position would participate in such a menial task. But then I had to remind myself. This was no ordinary woman and I should tread carefully.

  ‘You have come seeking answers about your father.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Then I will tell you this. Stephen did not abandon you as you think. He was misguided by his piety, which ultimately sent him mad with melancholy. His desire for you was to live a life hidden from our society. I tried to tell him he was making a mistake; you cannot hide a witch from their true form. As you have seen, your skills have formed much of your destiny.’

  Her voice was sultry and rhythmic, making it easy to listen to her, and harder to disbelieve as she told me that my father had made a difficult decision to send me away, and that everything he did was out of love. Although, she added, it was not as she would have had it.

  I did not appreciate his choices but neither did I hate him further. Was I not going through a similar turmoil with the future of my own child? I only wished that my father had chosen to keep me so that we could have fought our destinies together.

  ‘And what of my father?’

  ‘He is dead, his heart too broken to continue.’

  Dead? This statement was so abrupt and emotionless I thought at first that I had misheard. I looked at her with my hands clenched awaiting further disclosure with which to hang some hope. Her words hung in the air between us as if the reality of them would never reach solid ground. It was only when she lowered her eyes – a sign of regret and the truth – that sadness filled me, spilling into tears. She handed me a piece of linen and many moments passed in silence.

  ‘Don’t be too hard on Gabriel for not telling you this,’ I said. ‘He finds it hard to be the bearer of bad news. Such is his weakness and a weeping woman will not do for good company. It is but a small flaw and overshadowed by mostly good intent.’

  ‘And my mother? What of her?’

  ‘Hmm,’ Beatrice rolled her eyes. ‘She is a shallow thing. I should have killed her before their marriage but he would have known. He had the skill of foretelling too. You look shocked but it is not the fi
rst time I have killed, politically and selfishly. You see my dear, strigoi are a mostly selfish lot. It’s why we’re still here. If we had a conscience about our fellow humans we would have died out a long time ago.’

  If nothing else, Beatrice was frank telling me also of her history with Gabriel – that they were more than friends. I was shocked not just with her honesty but with the thought that my grandmother was once his lover. ‘Strigoi cannot look at each other in terms of age. We are eternal.’ She did not elaborate about the relationship but she didn’t have to. I knew enough of Gabriel and his wandering ways to fill in the missing pieces in her story. There seemed nothing malicious in these comments or a need to own him, rather I felt that in some strange way she was handing him over to me and perhaps her desire to have no more secrets come between us. Though the latter seemed unusual for a woman as calculating as Beatrice.

  ‘And where is my mother?’

  ‘It is best to forget her and your brother.’

  The title brother snapped me back to the injustice once more; the realisation that my family was taken from me unnecessarily despite all she said.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Venice, where they belong! Back with my daughter-in-law’s family thank goodness.’

  ‘And is my brother a witch?’

  ‘If he is, he is but a weak one and perhaps will never know and neither will Tomasina speak it.’

  ‘I must go to them.’

  ‘It is not wise.’

  ‘Surely they cannot reject me.’

  She raised her eyebrows bemusedly. ‘As you wish but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  ‘I must see Gabriel.’

  ‘He is gone for the hunt and I am off to join him.’

  I felt a moment of panic that he would leave me here alone.

  ‘Please tell him I wish to leave early in the morning and if he will accompany me, I must go to Venice.’

  ‘Farewell then,’ she said and swept her skirts out of the room.

  Beatrice

  When I had entered Lilah’s room I knew that the announcement may shock her but I did not predict such affection towards her. I suffocated the overwhelming desire to pour open my regret that I did not save my son, to purge my soul of its grief. The girl had awakened sorrow that I thought buried with Stephen, and we had shared feelings that I did not wish to return to. She may not have recognised our bond but I knew that our lives were now aligned.

  It was also during these moments that I had seen far ahead. Lilah will sacrifice much like her father. She will give up everything for the ones she loves. But it will not end there and at some point we will be allies, and although I enjoyed my self-indulgent carefree days, I also looked forward to the future.

  This isn’t the last time we will meet, sweet Lilah, I whispered to her thoughts.

  And now to move on: to erase this night with more pleasantries. The past had its place and the present must be celebrated.

  Lilah

  The creaking in the walls and the rattling of the windows from high winds interrupted my already restless sleep. I awoke wondering if Gabriel had returned and wishing that he was with me in this large musty room. It was sometime after midnight when I heard the sound of carriage wheels clicking over the cobbles of the bridge. Below, Beatrice stepped out of the carriage dressed in the same black dress but this time her hair was swept up and decorated with feathers. Her laughter was deep and sensuous and another young man stepped out behind her. He wore a short tunic and his bejeweled fingers glittered under the stars. The man was of wealth, so auspicious were his robes. His laugh was loud and step uneven from too much wine.

  Was it my imagination or did she look up at my window? I pulled back slightly. Against my better judgement I crept downstairs.

  I followed the sounds of laughter that seemed to echo down the long wooden corridors and approached the room where we had first been introduced. The door was left conveniently ajar allowing me to spy. I wanted immediately to look away but the sight within was too compelling.

  Beatrice and her young lover were in a passionate embrace. They were in stages of semi-undress and I saw the unadulterated lust in the man who could not think of anything else but the striking creature before him.

  Beatrice nuzzled his neck, then suddenly opened her mouth wider and bit down on the flesh. The man cried out briefly before becoming motionless on the lounge where he had reclined. I had recently seen the massacre by the strigoi but there was something so personal about this that made it more appalling. I ran back upstairs slamming the door to my room. Despite everything I knew, every book I had read, even marrying this kind of being, this very act still left me shaking and terrified. I vowed that I would never accept what they did. Never!

  Gabriel came to me early in the morning but I was already dressed and eager to leave this cold empty castle. I realised why Beatrice was happy to live here alone. She was never alone: attracting many would-be suitors into her web under the pretence of love-making. And I remembered the ironic conversation we’d had upon entering the castle when I had asked why Beatrice chose to live alone.

  ‘She finds plenty to amuse herself. She has a taste for human lovers,’ Gabriel had said further, and later I saw through the joke. Like a spider she injected her venom before milking her prey.

  Our horses walked slowly, reluctant to leave while happy to remain grazing in the expanse of fields around the castle. We entered the early morning mist that hovered above the bridge. The water was still and brown and the reflection of the castle taunted me as we rode past, its windows like tiny eyes watching everything. I did not look up. I felt that Beatrice would be standing behind one of them, pleased in her macabre way that I had seen what she was capable of.

  We passed a carriage that had fallen to the side of the track. Beside it was a small fire where several servants were burning a sack. There was a smell like burning hair and I covered my nose.

  Gabriel said nothing and I could not bring myself to talk about it until we were well beyond the castle. I felt cheated in some way that he had known my father; an experience I would never share.

  ‘She is evil, your friend,’ I said, though I felt compelled to turn my head to try and catch a glimpse of her one last time. She had born my father and witnessed my birth. We would always have that.

  ‘Then so am I.’

  ‘So you would kill your human lovers then?’ I mocked.

  ‘Beatrice can be cold and sometimes indiscriminate, but our instincts for blood are still the same…Tell me, do you really want to go to Venice? I do not think it a good idea.’

  ‘You said we would see my father. You have not honoured that. The least you can do for me is let me meet my mother.’

  ‘I fear you will be greatly disappointed.’ But nothing more was said on the subject. I had seen the effect my statement had made on him. He looked away so that I could not see the guilt. He had carried this secret of my father’s death and it had been a weight on his conscience. I had already forgiven him. The hurt and betrayal was now in the past.

  The trip proved taxing and took several more days. Gabriel paid a man to sail us to the north of Venice. I was at first nervous to be surrounded by so much water, but the sight of Gabriel embracing the breeze released some of the anxiety. I was exhausted by the time we reached the entrance to sail into the main canal of Venice. The sight of this strange water city at night restored my energy as well as the fresh salty gusts off the sea. In the dark of night we slipped into areas where we could not be seen and where the air became thick with the smell of mud and waste.

  Gabriel cautioned me to be silent. Venice was well guarded; protective of what the citizens thought was their jewel in the sea. Once in the main canal bordered by tall structures built from wood, stone and coloured tiles, windows glinting like bright yellow eyes – the same architecture as Beatrice’s castle – the man dropped us off at edge of the city. We walked a short way to where several men sat drinking beside their short narrow boats. Gabriel pa
id the man silver and the boatman pushed his oars onto the sandy cushioned bottom to glide us forward, while explaining that the buildings, streets and esplanades were built on posts made from the Alder trees, and sunk in mud and clay. The water shimmered smoky green, reflecting the candle light from houses overlooking the water. We passed remains of a wooden house; nothing left but pieces of blackened timber and arid smoke. Gabriel explained that this was not the first fire to start from a glassmaker’s furnaces and that soon such practice would be banned from the main island.

  The boatman told us to not be fooled by Venice’s beauty; there was also an underworld that was more dangerous than any other. ‘You do not speak your thoughts out loud; otherwise, you will find yourself in the dungeon as a heretic, and scratching your head wondering what you did and didn’t do. It has a dark side here full of suspicion and uncertainty. It is a city of dead-ends, twisting alleyways – a giant maze where one can lose their hearts, souls and their purses if they do not hold tight to them. La città dei segreti’, he said. The city of secrets. My body froze with all this news but Gabriel nudged me reassuringly, and to witness his fearless grin.

  The faintest swishing by the oar could not be heard above the sounds of raised voices and banging pots, and steam and smoke spilt from open windows. At this hour, the households were so alive with activity and Gabriel explained that people were preparing for a feast that would last for many days. We floated under archways into a portico where other boats had also docked. The building Gabriel described as a fondaco: a large warehouse and residence for merchants who traded by water. We stepped onto the tiled flooring and followed a corridor to a courtyard. Surrounding us were large rooms filled with drums and clay casks. A mixture of spices hung heavily in the air; none of which I could discern.

  ‘While you are here, you must agree with everything I say,’ he instructed. ‘Antonio is a devout man and you are otherwise an unaccompanied woman. I regret to ask this of you but it is important he thinks of us as married. It is a way of keeping your respect within this household and also so that we can escape – just the two of us – to search for your mother without Antonio insisting on chaperoning you. Carnevale is also a time that people turn a little mad…’