Archive for the New Novel Category

Section Two – Part Five – Saved

Posted in Anthology, Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Nightmare, Works in Progress with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 16, 2011 by cjirwin

Section Two – Part Five – Saved

Chapter Five

 

“Greetings Lord of Bauska in the name of the Great One,” Rokus began, his resonant voice easily crossing the distance between the two groups. “I am Lord Rokus Yefrem of the village Rokus to the south.”  His voice did not reveal any of the uncertainty his people felt. When Bauska Mikhail failed to answer, Rokus continued…perfect. Rokus would have an opportunity to tell the village of Bauska his people’s plight without the filter of their warped leader.  “Tragedy has befallen us; a great horde of Huns, monsters from the East with weapons unlike any known to man, fell upon us, killing, burning, and enslaving our people.”

 

There were gasps from the people who had gathered around Bauska Mikhail. Mikhail’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 

Rokus went on, “They destroyed our homes, drove us from our land, and pursued us, eager to capture more!”

 

 “Have you led them to our doorstep, that they may do the same to us?” Mikhail’s calm façade faltered.

 

“We would never do something so foolish,” Rokus said, his voice still calm. “I beg of thee, allow me to explain.”

 

 Bauska only nodded.

 

“Most of us escaped to a pre-designated hiding place. Some of us returned to our village, or what was left of it, three weeks later. We found then that they had sent a scouting party back to find us. No doubt they had failed to capture as many of us as they had wanted the first time. But they were careless and lazy scouts, so we found them first. My son organized an ambush and destroyed the miscreants before they could report back to their master.” Rokus finished with a proud look at his oldest son.

 

Rihards laid his hand gently on Mikhail’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

 

“Please forgive my outburst,” Bauska said through clenched teeth. “I only feared for my people.”

 

“Of course. I, as a leader myself, understand the pressure you are under. We are equal in our concerns.”

 

 Bauska Mikhail walked toward them, no doubt to escape the ears of his own people. Niklav’s hard body stiffened and Ivan moved closer to his father, his green eyes narrowed beneath his red brow.  

 

“Forgive me,” Bauska said, his voice dripping with disdain, “in the name of the Great One and the people of Bauska, welcome.”

 

“Thank you, we receive your welcome and hope we may somehow repay the hospitality we know we will receive. We will speak to all of your extraordinary kindness to our people in our time of need,” Rokus replied the implications clear. “This is my son Ivan, my right hand, and I believe you know Niklav.”

 

“Yes, I remember you, Rokus. It is good to meet your heir, and of course I remember you Niklav. It is good to see you, old friend,” Mikhail smiled smugly. “I see you have finally produced children Niklav. It is a pitiful thing to see a man with no children.  I was beginning to wonder if you were virile enough to plant them in your beautiful woman.” Niklav did not answer, afraid if he moved he would simply kill Mikhail.

 

Mikhail saw his anger, smiled, and continued. “Korina,” he directed his words to Niklavs beautiful blonde wife he had tried to coax into his bed, “you look well.”

 

As he said the words his mossy, green eyes slithered from her face to her feet and up again. “I knew your body would hold up well through childbearing. You know, that offer I made years ago still stands.”

 

That was the final straw, all Niklav could take. He took one step and planted his fist squarely in Mikhail’s face. The man to the right of Mikhail moved quickly, catching the side of Niklav’s face he sent him to the ground.  Ivan stepped protectively between his father and Mikhail’s advancing men.

 

“Stop!” Bauska Mikhail instructed from where he lay on the ground. He smiled and wiped the blood from his thin lipped mouth. Having gotten the rise he wanted, he stood.

 

“Friends, let us not resort to hostilities,” he spewed the words like vomit. His men took a step back, and Niklav jumped to his feet, unconvinced the fight was over. “I was only jesting, old friend.” He spoke to Niklav; his words were sharp and smug, befitting his thick, square face.

 

Niklav knew he needed to calm the situation, though he desperately wanted to pound Mikhail into the ground. A short distance away, Freya smiled uncontrollably as the blood continued to drip from the corner of Mikhail’s mouth.

 

“Of course. I pray thee, forgive the misunderstanding,” Niklav’s voice was smooth and cold.

 

“Aye, forgive the misunderstanding,” Rokus said in the same cold tone. Rokus decided a change of the subject was in order. “I am sorry to see that your father has passed. He was a great leader and a dear friend.”

 

“I pray your pardon! He trained me well and left this people in capable hands!” Bauska barked.

 

“I did not mean to imply otherwise,” Rokus said soothingly. “I was simply mourning our mutual loss of a great man.”

 

Rihards laid his hand on Mikhail again and spoke to us. His gentle smile was calming, and his dark tan eyes exuded peace.

 

“Thank you for your compassion, my brother and I appreciate it. Brother,”  Rihards turned toward Mikhail as he spoke, “our guests,” he gestured toward us, “must be tired and hungry. We should allow them to set up their camp while we prepare a feast in honor of their safety.”

 

Who is this man, and why is he not the leader? Rokus wondered.

 

Fury frosted Mikhail’s features; grinding his teeth together, he simply nodded.

 

“Good, it is settled then,” Rihards said. “If you would like, you may set up camp on the edge of the lake. Please leave our paths clear, so we also have access to the water.”

 

“We certainly will, and thank you.” Rokus used much more respect when addressing this man.

 

“When you are settled, we would love for you to join us in our main lodge’s courtyard to feast, right, brother?”

 

“Yes, yes, if it please you to accept our hospitality,” Bauska regained his smug look.

 

“We will come, many thanks,” Rokus said warily.

 

The light was dancing and sparkling on the rippling water in one of the most phenomenal sunsets made by God when they finally finished setting up camp. The wind whipped across the beautiful ox-bow lake making tents billow and tree limbs sway. Toward the middle of the rows of tents, rocks were placed for a large, temporary, central hearth. The beauty on the horizon was surreal. What an amazing location for a community, Korina thought as Niklav walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. They stood in silence, taking in the sunset on the lake, and turned when Ivan called.

 

“They approach. It looks to be Bauska’s brother and his wife. Come, and bring Korina.”
Niklav and Korina walked toward Rihards, Ivan leading the group with his parents on his heels.

 

“Good day, forgive me for not introducing myself earlier, I am Rihards, second son of the former Bauska Niklav, and this is my wife, Danya.”

 

“Apologies are not necessary,” Ivan said. “I am Ivan, first son of Rokus Yefrem, and this is my wife Stepka. This is my father and our leader,” he gestured for Rokus to take over.

 

“I am Rokus Yefrem and this is my other half, Ona.” Ona smiled at Rokus’ loving explanation of her. “This is my son by marriage, Niklav, and his wife Korina, my granddaughter.”

 

“It is wonderful to meet all of you. I pray you forgive my brother’s rash behavior earlier.” He had come with only his wife, so he could apologize for the offense caused by his brother. “We want you to know you are truly welcomed by this people,” Rihards said, conviction evident in his voice. “Please extend your grace over our people.” His kind, charming features begged forgiveness.

 

“We give our grace freely. I pray thee, know we hold no ill will toward you or any of your people,” Rokus replied respectfully. “You have the heart and grace of a great leader,” Rokus complimented.

 

“Thank you, good sir. You honor me with your flattery. The Great One gives all men what they have, so any honor given me is due Him.” Though Rihards common features and body would make him easy to overlook, his voice and mannerisms captured you immediately. He embodied integrity.

 

“Yes, so true,” Rokus marveled that he could respect Rihards more than he had a few minutes before, but he did.

 

“We have come to invite your people to dine with us. We have prepared a celebration in your honor,” Rihards wife Danya spoke. Her face was warm and pink, complimenting her brunette hair and sweet smile.

 

Rokus nudged Ona, causing her grey-streaked auburn hair to fall in her face, and she responded.

 

“We would be pleased to join you,” her smile lifted her full cheeks. “Many of the women have prepared food to add to your feast. It is not much, only dried fruits and vegetables we have gathered on our journey, but we wanted to contribute something.”

 

“You did not need to do that; we are most honored to feed you,” Danya said. The two ladies smiled as they connected.

 

“I know, but we want to bless your people in any way we can,” Ona responded.

 

“Then we accept your gift humbly, and we will see you for the celebration,” Danya said, revealing her slightly crooked teeth when she smiled.  Ona’s hazel eyes sparkled pleased to make a new friend.

 

Niklav’s and Korina’s people walked past the main village lodge toward the square. An enormous fire lit the sky, sending sparks flying high, shimmering like fairies dancing on the wind. Over the edge of the fire, two large carcasses sizzled and popped, sending a pleasant aroma throughout the air, one a beef haunch, the other a pig. Tables stood on the north side of the square with torches burning above them.  All manner of mouthwatering dishes lay upon them. Hot, fresh, wheat bread with caraway seed paste, sautéed garlic and onions, stuffed goose with white mustard, and honey cakes.

 

Rihards walked to great Rokus’s people with a smile. Two young ladies followed behind him, one with cups and the other with a jug.

 

“Would you be interested in some beer? Our man who makes it is quite good! He is experimenting with barley this year, and it is the finest brew I have ever tasted!”

 

Cups were passed out, and beer poured.  It was a strong, smooth, and robust stout that bit a little at the end, and everyone seemed to enjoy it. Freya watched as they devoured the meal as if food had been denied them for months. The pouts on the children’s faces made her heart yearn as she watched their mothers send them to bed. Shame squirmed a little inside her as she contemplated what they had been through. I fuss and cry while little children are murdered and driven from their homes.  As people began to gather in groups talking, playing dice, and gambling, Freya felt hope and faith spring inside her for the foreign people.

 

Full mug of beer in hand, Korina sat comfortably with Niklav in the group while Rokus and Rihards spoke. She was paying little attention to their conversation and instead was people watching. Knowing it was rude, Korina was discreet. She found people enthralling; how fascinating to watch the way they moved, their facial expressions and body language. Mikhail caught her as she looked around, and much to her surprise, he smiled genuinely, tipping his beer and his head toward her.

 

Worrying for her children, Korina whispered into Niklav’s ear that she would check on them; he kissed her, and she rose to leave. Slightly intoxicated, she sauntered back toward the village and Niklav, thinking of his warm skin and callused hands caressing her body. She was almost to the lodge when she noticed someone standing in the shadow of the building.

 

“How now, is someone there?” Shaking her head, Korina tried to dispel the strange feeling and kept walking. Just as she passed the peak of the lodge, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

 

“Oh,” Korina gasped. “Bauska Mikhail, you startled me! What can I do for you?” her voice shook, her fear radiating.  

 

He stumbled a bit as he moved forward. He was thoroughly drunk, and his eyes burned insanely. “Yes, my love,” he started, slurring his words together; “there is something you can do for me.”

 

He still held her hand firmly; she jerked against his grip. Korina tried to scream, but his hand landed firmly on her mouth. Turning her, he slammed Korina up against the side of the lodge, robbing her of breath. With his hand still firmly pressed to her lips, he began tearing at the collar of her dress. It gave way at the seams. His mouth and teeth set hard upon exposed flesh, rubbing and gnashing.

 

Korina’s fist came up and hit the side of his face with a thud, but did little except get him to drop his hand long enough for her to scream. Hand hard across her face. Back driven into the logs of the lodge, Korina cried out. Excited, Mikhail hit her again knocking to her the ground. His massive hand wrapped around her face like iron bent on an anvil. Sharp rocks cut her back, his weight forcing her down. Korina could hardly breathe, let alone scream. His knees were between her legs, pushing them apart, and all her kicking and flailing only seemed to arouse him further.

 

Oh Great One, please do not let this happen to me! Niklav, I need you! Korina prayed frantically.

 

He pulled her dress up. The dried leather of his boots scraped against the bare inside of her leg. Korina wanted to vomit, thinking of what was sure to come next.  Frantically, she thrashed.

 

Oh God help me! Korina prayed.

 

Niklav hit Mikhail; Korina heard the clash of bone and muscle and watched as they flew to the ground. In an instant Niklav laid into Mikhail’s face, breaking his nose. It was a beautiful sound. Half-crazed, Mikhail looked up at Niklav. Adrenalin coursed through Mikhail’s veins along with the liquor. Throwing his fist upwards, Mikhail caught Niklav square in the chin and the force of the blow sent Niklav to the dirt. Niklav righted himself, but before they could clash again, there were men between them. Niklav fought their arms for a moment, but then allowed himself to be restrained. Mikhail was throwing punches at anyone that got close enough for him to hit. He was raving.

 

“She is mine, she belongs to me!” he screamed repeatedly, sweat dripping from his brow, and blood from his nose.

 

Shaking with fear, Korina cried, powerful sobs racking her chest. Her mind reeled, and she could feel blood seeping from the corner of her throbbing eye. People tried to talk to her, but she only wanted Niklav. There were so many people, so many voices.

 

Where is Niklav? She wondered, the question running laps in her head.

 

“Let me loose. I am calm, and my wife needs me!” Niklav said through clenched teeth, and after a moment’s deliberation, the men restraining him released. He ran straight to my side.

 

“My love,” he said through angry tears. “I am so sorry! I love you! I will kill that lying bastard!” He stopped talking because he was unable to control his fury.

 

Others were there, asking how they could help.  Continuous apologies poured from Rihards and Danya. Niklav tried to pull Korina’s tattered dress back over her bruised and bleeding flesh, but gave up and just laid it over my exposed breasts.

 

So many people have seen me this way! So many have seen my disgrace, seen me torn and exposed on the ground! How can I ever face them again? Korina cried inside.

 

“So many,” she whispered once before she passed out.

 

Jerking awake, Korina sat up trying to get her bearings. Her skin recoiled against the heat, and both her body and head ached. The air was thick, making it hard to breathe. The room was extremely stuffy, and Korina could not open either of her eyes. Niklav’s arms encircled her gently, calming. He whispered softly in her ear, his sweet words aligning senses, making her aware of the tent and safety with him.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Korina painfully forced her eyes to open. He is so beautiful, Korina thought, like the sound of a voice you thought you had lost.

 

“Are you well? You seemed to be having a nightmare. I almost woke you up,” Niklav said, his eyes full of worry.

 

“I am well, but I am very thirsty.”

 

He was up in a second, fetching water. Feeling helpless but loved unconditionally, Korina watched as he poured the drink and then held the cup to her lips. After he finished, she looked down at her arms to find them spotted with large purple welts.

 

It all flooded back; the image of Mikhail’s hands assaulted her mind, his mouth and teeth searching and devouring! As she examined herself, big fat tears slipped over the black bulges under her eyes, tears of pain and remembrance. Tears in his eyes, Niklav took her in his arms again, and she cried until she could cry no more.  

 

“Many of the women are outside. They want to see you, but I wanted you to sleep, so I made them wait. I do not know how much longer I can hold them off,” he said, feigning a serious look. “Caterna especially wants to see you. She has been outside the tent all night long.”

 

“She has?” Korina said and began to cry again…ugh! “She is so wonderful. Tell them to come in.”

 

Aija, Korina’s sister, was the first one in the tent, and right on her heels was Caterna. Aija sat on the bed, her eyes were red. She had no words; she simply wrapped her arms around Korina. Caterna sat silently on Korina’s other side and laid her hand on her knee. Many women came in, loved on her, and left over the next few hours. Aija left just before noon to prepare a meal and care for the children. She found she did not have to cook. The village women sent more food than they could eat. Caterna never left Korina’s side, and Ludis, the village physician, came regularly. Korina knew she was loved.

 

“May I go to the river and wash?” Korina asked.

 

“I do not know if you should be trying to move around yet,” Ludis said, looking at Niklav to back him up.

 

“I can bring water from the lake, love. You could wash here,” Niklav said hoping to dissuade Korina.

 

“I pray thee, let me go, I urgently need to.” Korina pleaded.

 

“Niklav, may I speak with you outside?” It was the first time Caterna had spoken in hours. He nodded, and they walked outside.

 

“Let us get you down to that lake,” Niklav said when he walked back into the tent.

 

Korina did not know what Caterna had said to him, but she was thankful for it. Standing waist deep in the water, Korina scrubbed viciously, leaving the skin red in an effort to cleanse. Wishing for something to wash thoughts away, tears began once more to burn her chapped cheeks. There was little left of the bar of soap when she finished.

 

Sitting on the shore, clean and wrapped in a blanket, Korina felt worlds better. Caterna picked through her long, straight, blonde hair as Niklav reminded her of their first journey to Riga.

 

“Where is he?” Korina asked, interrupting Niklav’s story.  

 

“He is in the Bauska lodge, bound to the center beam,” Niklav’s teeth ground loudly.

 

The idea of that vile creature bound made her smile.

 

“What will become of him?”

 

“I do not know. I would like to hold him under water until his lungs explode!”  Niklav was not jesting.

 

Smiling, Korina imagined Niklav killing him. The image was thrilling except that she saw Mikhail’s face.

 

“Will they do nothing?” She asked.

 

“Rihards and the Bauska elders are good people. I cannot imagine they will let him go unpunished. I doubt his punishment will be severe enough, but they will punish him.”

 

“I would love to see Emilya. Will you bring her to me? I am not ready to go back to that stuffy tent,” Korina said.

 

“Of course, my love, I will return shortly. Will you stay?” Niklav asked Caterna.

 

Korina felt badly; Caterna had been with her all day, but her presence was salve on her wounds. She smiled in agreement.

 

“You feel ashamed,” Caterna said. She was not asking; she was stating, and it surprised Korina that she had guessed her true feelings.

 

“Yes,” Korina whispered.

 

“If you let him take your dignity and self-respect, he wins,” Caterna said, her voice silky.

 

“But I did not stop him,” Korina moaned. “I should have seen it coming, or screamed sooner. I don’t know. I should have done more. I’m so weak. Our whole village will suffer the consequences of my weakness,” she lamented.

 

“You were unbelievable!” Caterna was suddenly in her face. “You held him off long enough for Niklav to get to you. You are a strong, beautiful woman, and you need to give yourself more credit. Mikhail would love to see your spirit broken. Will you give that maggot the satisfaction of knowing he destroyed you? Or will you stand, straighten your shoulders, lift your head, and condemn him for the filth he is?”

 

Korina gaped, awed at the outstanding woman before her. Even after all she had gone through, she was there, encouraging Korina.

 

“You’re right,” Korina said. “I will not give that beast more than he has already taken.”

 

“Good. Remember that you are a stronger and better person than he will ever be. You deserve happiness; do not allow him to take that from you,” Caterna commanded, and Korina knew she would never respect another woman more.

 

“Thank you.” Korina reached to embrace her.

 

Niklav returned with Emilya in his arms, and as he sat on the ground at my Korina’s, Caterna rose to leave.

 

“Remember what I said.” Caterna smiled as she looked down at Korina. “I love you.”

 

“I will. I love you and thank you again.”

 

“You look different,” Niklav said after she had gone.

 

“Different?” Korina reached for her daughter Emilya.

 

“Yes, you look different. The sadness has dispelled. May I ask what it has been replaced by?” Worry still marred his handsome face, but relief softened the harsh lines when he found Korina unsoiled by more tears.

 

“Determination,” Korina affirmed. “I will do whatever is in my power to make sure he never hurts another soul.”

 

“Good, I will be by your side every step of the way,” Niklav wrapped his arm around Korina, and they silently watched the sun set over the lake.

 

***

 

It was time. Mikhail was to be publicly judged. There had been a private trial. All the leaders and elders had heard second-hand accounts from various people who had witnessed the crime. They had tried to allow Mikhail to defend his actions, but when asked to give his own account, he simply stated: “I am the Great One’s appointed leader of this people. You have no authority by which to judge me.”

 

They then called upon Korina. She gathered her strength and went to meet them; Niklav held her hand the entire time.

 

“Korina, of the village Rokus, you have been called upon to recount the crime committed against you by this man, Mikhail of Bauska.” The elders motioned toward Mikhail who sat to their right.

 

To look upon his face was like being punched in the gut. He saw Korina’s immediate reaction and smiled. Damn, she thought, I will not give him the pleasure of seeing me flinch again. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, meeting the heat of his glare. Glaring back, showing no fear, infuriating him, hah, she thought, take that you weasel. Standing before the elders of both villages, she gave a detailed account of the evening in question, sparing nothing. They heard everything, even her thoughts as he violated her. She only let a few tears escape her eyes. The elders and leaders sat dumbstruck. They had not realized the full extent of the crime; they listened horrified and ashamed.

 

When Korina finished, the silence was deafening, and she could feel Mikhail’s glare burning the side of her face, but refused to look. Squeezing Niklav’s hand, she swallowed hard.

 

The following day, they heard the verdict. Embarrassed, Korina did not want to stand in front of all the people, but Ivan said it would make the punishment more valid in their eyes. Niklav stood with her on the small, raised platform that butted up against the rear of the Bauska village lodge. All were gathered, and the elders rose to begin.

 

“We are gathered here today to pass judgment upon this man, Mikhail of Bauska, first son of the former Bauska Niklav. He stands accused of beating and attempting to rape Korina, of the village Rokus, granddaughter of their leader Rokus Yefrem and guest of this people. Before we pass judgment upon the accused, we would like to allow him one more opportunity to defend his actions.”

 

“What? Why? Have they not already decided?” Korina whispered in Niklav’s ear.

 

“They have decided, but they want people to see that he cannot defend his actions. They need the support of the people to carry out judgment,” Niklav whispered back.

 

Mikhail said just what they wanted him to say. “I am the leader of this people,” Mikhail began. “You have not the authority to judge me. I have been anointed holy leader, and all that I do is holy. Any who pass judgment upon me will suffer the wrath of the Great One!”

 

There were a few huffs and puffs from the crowd, and Korina smiled to find that many of them looked offended by his words.

 

“So be it,” the elders said, and continued. “We here, under the eyes of the Great One of Heaven, find you, Bauska Mikhail, guilty.” Mikhail’s jaw clamped firmly, and his hands curled into fists. “You are hereby stripped of your office of Bauska, leader of this people. You will never again enjoy any position of power among us. You will henceforth be a servant to this people, filling whatever role best serves the group as a whole. You shall move from the village lodge to one of the dwellings on the outskirts of the community. Your family will not move with you unless they so choose. Your wife may stay on as sister to our new Bauska Rihards and her children as nieces and nephews. This is the judgment of this council.”

 

The veins in Mikhail’s forehead bulged, and his face burned brightly with fury; it was too much. He hit the man to his right, knocking him off the platform. Fueled by anger, he struck like a snake, stealing the sword of the startled man to his left. Mikhail pulled the blade across the man’s middle, spilling blood and intestines across the wooden planks. The man doubled over and fell. Lurching forward, Mikhail darted for Niklav and Korina. Unarmed,  Niklav pushed Korina back. She fell to the floor. Niklav tried to spin away from Mikhail’s attack, but the blade caught his upper arm cutting deeply, staining his shirt crimson.

 

Korina was frantic; she looked around for help, but most were still in shock. A weapon hanging from Rihards belt, Korina grabbed it and threw. Niklav caught it and raised it in front of himself. Mikhail’s blade did not find flesh as he had hoped; instead they heard the terrible shriek of iron on iron. Niklav was on fire. He had hoped and prayed for an opportunity, or excuse, to kill the bastard that had dared violate his woman. Mikhail’s blade met Niklav’s and sparks flew. Natural muscle moved earthen minerals forged into sword, as the two men struggled against each other. Mikhail’s blade landed on Niklav’s shoulder and quivered to rip across his chest.

 

“No!” I screamed, flying toward them and distracting Mikhail for a split second. Niklav pounced in that second, his blade singing as it flew through the air. It found the side of Mikhail’s neck and a second later Mikhail’s head fell to the wooden platform, eyes still open in shock. Gasps came from all around us. It had happened so quickly people were still frozen in shock.

 

Niklav, allowing his sword to drop, moved quickly toward Korina and wrapped her in his arms. Tears of relief spilled from Korina’s eyes as the shock wore off. Niklav cupped her face in his hands and leaned back so he could look in her eyes.

 

“Why did you do that? You could have been killed!” Niklav said, terror shaping his features.

 

“He was going to kill you. I had to do something. I could not let you die!”

 

“Throwing yourself at an armed and insane man is never acceptable behavior, you beautiful, silly woman!” He shook his head, and Korina saw the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

 

“I will try to avoid doing that again,” Korina said, smiling through tears.

 

They both laughed with relief, and Korina fell into his firm embrace again.

 

“You are injured,” Rihards said as he removed his shirt and pressed it to Niklav’s arm.

 

It was true. Niklav’s arm and shoulder had stained Korinas clothes with blood. The healers pushed their way through the mayhem of people. Ludis and his apprentice Roburt set to work on Niklav, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Bauska’s healers had a greater task. The man Mikhail had robbed and cut lay dying. In agonizing pain, he struggled for breath to moan; he was cut from side to side, bleeding to death. They gently lifted him and wrapped him tightly around the center. Two women stood off to their right, wailing; hearts ached for them. They lifted him and carried him into the village lodge. Korina and Freya said a prayer to the Great One, begging for his life.

***

They were ready to go; Rokus had instructed the people to be ready to leave at dawn on the third day following the sentencing. Niklav and Korina wanted to go pay their respects to Alexa and Zhorah. They were the wives of the man that died on Mikhail’s day of sentencing. Korina knew his death was not truly her fault, but she could not shake the guilt. They carried a gift of salt. It was not much, but it was highly prized.

 

“Excuse me,” Freya said, stopping in their path, her silky, black hair falling around her bowed head. “I just wanted to say,” she mumbled, looking up timidly, her sky-blue eyes visible and breathtaking, “I just wanted to thank you. You will never know how greatly you have helped this people.” She smiled slightly, and the wind blew her hair away from her neck revealing deep bruises. She quickly pulled her hair back around her neck and hurried toward Robert and his brilliant smile.

Freya’s Prayer – Section One of Part Four – God Save Our Souls

Posted in Anthology, Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Nightmare, rape, Works in Progress with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 29, 2011 by cjirwin

Chapter Four – Section One –

God Save Our Souls

The muddy hem of Freya’s brown work dress jerked and swayed as she yanked at a piece of bleached timber near the edge of the river. The tangled mass of wood had been gathered by the raging waters of the spring and cast aside as it settled into its calmer summer flow. Freya cursed when the firewood finally loosed and sent her sprawling backward onto the ground. Huffing and thanking God she had walked up river saving her from the embarrassment of anyone seeing her clumsiness, Freya stood and brushed the dirt from her backside.

Mortification filled her and she spun around at a familiar voice. “If you’re not careful my dear that firewood will kick your ass,” Robert said through a bright smile, the words skipping from his lips.

Unable to reply Freya only grew redder.

“You’re exquisite all the time, but I do enjoy a good blush on your skin.” Robert sang as he drew closer.

“Are you saying you enjoy embarrassing me Robert?” Freya asked raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“And if I do? What would the fair beauty before me be able to do about it?” Robert’s eyes bubbled with delight as he circled Freya and wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind.

Freya sighed, leaning into his embrace and reaching up to put her hands in his.  “I would hate to have to withhold my lips from such a striking man’s reach, but punishment must be doled out for such grievous actions.” Despite her efforts, Freya could not contain the amusement that frosted her threat.

“Such extreme chastisement!” Robert laughed and spun Freya in his arms to face him. “Well my lady, I must surely be more cautious. For without your lips my lips would cease to speak, eat, or yearn! I most certainly would become nothing more than a husk of a man.”

“You mock me,” Freya retorted and tried to put on a frown.

“No my love,” Robert said more seriously. “I think of you night and day. Please ease my troubled heart and say yours yearns as mine.”

As hummingbird’s wings, Freya’s heard flew within her chest. Blood pounding loudly in her ears, she tried to respond. “I want nothing more than to find myself within your arms. I dream of your lips and think on the joy in your eyes. My heart yearns as yours.”

As the last word hummed from her mouth Robert’s lips sailed toward hers, and his arms acted in tandem securing her to his chest. Freya opened to his kiss, her lips embracing his taste and warmth. His arms seemed to make her worries fade to some distant place, her feelings and desires rising to fill the void left. Everything in her ached for his touch as his kiss reached to the very depths of her soul.  Freya rejoiced in the unfamiliar feelings that coursed through her body as Robert’s fingers skimmed down the soft skin of her throat and along the contours of her shoulders. That surge of sensation that sped through her peaked, exploding on a new plateau she had not known stood within her.

The gasp that escaped Freya’s lips set Roberts form to shuddering, his body reacting to her beauty, and his mind thrilling in the love that pounded inside him. The newness of her beauty, as a flower budding for the first time made his mind reel with want that he struggled to reign in. His charm and good looks had earned him a great many encounters, but none that had ever stirred his soul as Freya.

“Freya,” Robert whispered through the kiss as she tangled her hands in his hair. “Freya,” he sang as he lifted her into his arms and walked away from the water.

Their lips did not cease as he glided toward and ancient oak with a lovely blanket of green beneath it. The breeze, gentle and warm, dragged strands of his golden hair from its moorings and tangled them in Freya’s hands. Robert’s body above her, his lips on her lips, his hands slowly traveling down her dress to traverse her waist, her hip, emboldened her. Letting her inhibitions dwindle, she drew her hands from his head to the hard muscles of his chest. The movement of her hands was as heavily fire breathing along his skin.

He jerked away throwing himself by her side. “Ah,” he groaned and covered his face.

Freya swallowed hard as the red returned to her face. “I’m sorry,” Freya breathed. “What is wrong?” Tears threatened. “Do you not want me?”

“Oh god Freya!” Robert heaved as he rolled toward her. “Of course I want you!” He pulled her to her side. “That’s just it, I want you too much. I fight to control the immense desire in me now that would take you this instant beneath this tree.”

Freya smiled, one embarrassment merging into another. “I would love nothing more than to give myself to you.”

Robert traced his finger along her throat, tugging slightly at the string pulling tight the top of her shirt. “You deserve better than me.” His smile was irresistible. “You deserve a home, and your father deserves a bride price.”

“I want you.” Freya countered. “You deserve far more than you think.”

“I would earn your love, your trust and your fathers, and earn your touch.” Robert said as he playfully tugged loose the string loosening her shirt. It fell away from her neck and shoulders revealing the top of her cleavage pulled tightly together by her corset. “God help me,” Robert breathed.  

“You have already done everything you need to do to earn my love.” Freya replied distracted by the look in his eyes as he examined her.

“How could I ever merit such beauty of mind and body?” As he spoke Freya reached to loosen her corset. Robert sucked in a breath. “No Freya,” he pleaded with a tortured smile on his lips. “I cannot lose myself.”

“I would have you lose yourself and me with you.” Freya said as she pulled the corset away, her shirt hanging free, revealing.

“You would drive me mad woman!” Robert laughed as he reached for her. Freya playfully evaded his hand and smiled broadly as she lifted her shirt over her head. “God help me,” Robert whispered again as he saw her.

“Hey, you there!” A deep voice barked.

Robert jerked toward the sound as Freya scrambled for her shirt.

“What do we have here?” Mikhail asked from atop his horse. “My goodness,” he breathed as he watched Freya struggled to pull her shirt over her head.

“King Mikhail!” Robert burst and fell to one knee. “My lord, how may I serve you?” Robert asked his voice quivering like leaves in a spring storm.

“Who is he?” Mikhail asked the man to his left.

“I believe that is Robert Bauer, son of Robert Bauer the elder. He plants and harvests the Northern fields.”

“Robert Bauer son of Robert the elder, farmer of the Northern Fields?” Mikhail asked tearing his eyes from Freya who was still trying to replace her corset and fixing his eyes on Robert.

“Yes Your Majesty.”

“Who is the exquisite lady behind you, and does she belong to you?”

“Um,” Robert swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “This is Freya Keller. First daughter of Eric of the house of Keller, and no, she is still under the covering of her father.”

“Keller,” Mikhail said turning to the man beside him again.

“Yes my Lord. He owns the local pub and inn.”

“So, Robert of the house of Bauer, I have caught you endeavoring to take the virginity of a woman not your own and above your station, or has she already lost that gift to you.” Mikhail accused.

“No My King, I have not, and I would not rob her of such a gift.”

“Wouldn’t you? It looks very much like you would have had we not interrupted. Tell me, Robert Bauer, does Eric know his daughter is with a farmer’s son?”

“Um, he does not know I am with her now, but my father has begun negotiating a bride price with hers and, I love her and intend to marry her when I am able to earn the sum.”

“You do? They have?” Freya said, her face lighting, but then remembering their company she dropped her eyes back to the ground.

“Hum, are you very sure Eric of the house of Keller will want to entrust his lovely daughter to a boy who sneaks her off into the woods?” Mikhail demanded.

Robert paled. “Forgive me my Lord. I did not intend to soil her virtue; I became carried away by her beauty. I will exercise more control.”

“Well, I can certainly see why you were carried away.” Robert’s stomach twisted as he watched his King examine the woman he loved. “She is most lovely. Freya is it?”

“Yes My Lord.” Freya answered looking up.

“Come here,” Mikhail ordered.  Robert fought the urge to stop her as she moved toward the Kings horse. Taking Freya’s face roughly into his hand, Mikhail examined her sapphire eyes with thick dark lashes, her fine nose set on perfect pastel skin, her rosy full lips accented by a sharp jaw. “You are lovely.” Mikhail said his body still stirred at her frantically searching for her shirt.

“You are too kind my King,” Freya said as she took a step back toward Robert.

“Have you been hunting Your Majesty?” Robert asked wanting to change the subject.

“That I have.”

“Please, do not let us keep you. We beg forgiveness for our interruption.” Robert pleaded.

“I will escort Mistress Keller home.” Mikhail said, a wicked smile spreading as he saw Robert’s body jerk.

“You need not worry My Lord.” Robert hurried. “No need for you to burden yourself, I can see her safely home, so you may enjoy the rest of your hunt.”

“Tis no burden my young friend. I actually quit look forward to honoring her father’s house with a visit.”

Freya swallowed hard and looked back to Roberts’s anxious face.

“Come my dear,” Mikhail called. “The hour grows late.”

“Shall I give her my horse?” The man to Mikhail’s right asked.

“No, she will ride with me. Help her up in front of me.”

Robert’s teeth ground together, and the breath in Freya’s chest began to heave. She looked to Robert, and though it was the last thing he wanted to see he tipped his head toward the king. “What an honor Freya,” Robert said through thin lips. “The King wishes to see you safely home. I will be right behind you my love.”

Freya simply nodded and was helped into Mikhail’s lap. She bulked inside at how tightly the King held her, and the heat of his breath on her ear as they rode back toward the village. Heart pressed by fear, Freya stood at Mikhail’s side as his steward announced his presence at her father’s house.

“My Great King!” Eric called out, falling to one knee as the Lord Bauska Mikhail entered. “To what does my humble house owe the honor of your presence?”

“To your daughter my good servant,” Mikhail said indicating Freya coming in the door.

“My daughter?”

“Aye, tell me good sir, are you in the habit of allowing the maidens of your house to run around in the forest with boys that would spoil their honor?”

Freya blanched.

“No my Lord!” Eric replied shooting Freya a look of fire. “I knew of no such thing.”

“I found her, for the better part unclothed,” Mikhail said and smiled as Eric’s jaw tightened. “Under the seeking hands of a young farmer’s boy; do you know of him?”

Eric swallowed hard, his teeth grinding audibly. “That would be Robert Bauer, I thought him to me an honorable young man.”

“No father,” Freya blurted. “He is, it was me!”

“Freya! Still your tongue in the presence of our Lordship,” Eric scolded then turned to Mikhail. “I beg your forgiveness my King.”

“No forgiveness is required my good servant, the lovely young lady is simply trying to defend the boy. It is he that is at fault, he that has lured her to folly.” Mikhail reasoned, his eyes resting heavily upon Freya.

Freya shook her head.

“I am indebted to you my King for returning her to my house.”

“It was an honor good sir. My steward tells me you own and run the Keller Inn.”

“That I do My Lord.”

“It does well for you?” Mikhail asked having trouble keeping his eyes from Freya.

“It does well, provides for me and mine.” Eric said with a proud smile.

“My steward also tells me you are always faithful with your dues to the crown. I am grateful for such men in my city.”

“It is my honor and duty, my Lord. I am but your servant.”

“A most pleasing one,” Mikhail sang. “You must let me honor you and your family! Come to my table to feast, all of your family. It would bring me much joy to see your family again.”

Eric swallowed against the knots forming in his stomach and forced a smile to his lips. “I would be greatly pleased to accept such an invitation. I do not feel equal to it!”

“I will be the judge of such things my friend,” Mikhail teased, but Eric sensed much more than was said. “Two nights hence, we will feast in your honor.”

Anxiety had nearly stretched Freya’s muscles and mind to the brink by the time she watched Mikhail walk from her home. And thought battered she felt in body that pain did not compare to the throbbing of her heart. From her father’s side, Freya looked on as Mikhail, a king she had hardly known that morning, rode away as a man she loathed with all of her will.

Freya’s Prayer – Part Three- A New King –

Posted in Anthology, Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Works in Progress with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 27, 2011 by cjirwin

Enjoy parts One and Two of Freya’s Prayer, Hated Beauty and Loved Beauty.

Freya’s Prayer

Chapter Three

A New King

 

“My King,” Rihard’s virile voice echoed in the Great Hall. “May I present Niklav of the Village Rokus to the Southeast and his wife Princess Korina granddaughter of King Rokus Yefrem.

“You are welcome.” Niklav Bauska said though his throat ached with every word. “What business have you here?”

“We embrace your welcome Majesty and bring wishes of health and prosperity from our Lord Rokus Yefrem. We have come to trade that both our cities might be enriched.” Niklav bowed his broad back and muscled form giving respect. His sharp features lifted as he smiled and his deep blue eyes shone clear and proud. Korina’s pale green dress folded on the floor and she curtsied.

“How is your Grandfather fair Korina?” Niklav Bauska asked eyes fixated.

The midnight blue circles around the grey of Korina’s eyes mesmerized the king as she spoke, but he was not the only man who lapped at the edges of the soft skin of her face, the full roundness of her breasts, the flatness of her center, the subtle grace of her arms and legs, the glint of easy flowing, golden hair that fell to the small of her back; Mikhail stood stunned and wanting.

“He is well my Lord.” Korina replied.

“Make your trades and feast with me this night, but I would advise that you do not sleep within the city. My heart breaks even now at the loss of an entire family the demon sickness my physician claims to be the Black Plague.”

“I am sorry to hear of it,” Niklav replied. “We will offer prayers for the return of health to your city, and we would be honored to feast with you this eave.”

“My son Mikhail will show you to the markets.”

Niklav tried to hide his irritation at the persistence of the princes eyes on his wife throughout the day, and his muscles ached from the tension of the effort.

“So, Lord Mikhail have you a wife and children?” Niklav asked as they meandered through the shops.

“Aye that I do,” Mikhail answered as he filled his mouth with another gulp of dark wheat beer that dribbled down his beard. “But I am always on the lookout for something better!” Mikhail laughed. “Know what I mean,” he said slapping Niklav on the back.

Korina frowned and shook her head as she walked behind them. Disgusting pig! She thought.

Niklav simply smiled politely.

“Well my friend I will leave you to your trading.”

“Many thanks for the tour my Lord,” Niklav said inclining his head.

“Was my pleasure, I look forward to seeing you both tonight, especially you my dear.” Mikhail said lifting Korina’s hand and kissing.

Niklav’s hand fisted and his jaw tightened. “It will be our honor,” Korina said laying a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Fare well till then.” Korina backed away pulling Niklav.

***

A lively arrangement of notes poured from the vielle as its owner pulled the horse-hair bow across the strings, and the four course guitar laid a wild rhythm filling the Great Hall. Drums and lutes completed the musical assembly that lifted the feet and hearts of the people gathered. Roasting boar and duck whetted the appetite, and dark beer and wine loosed tongues and hands. Niklav and Korina ate and laughed with Rihards and Mikhail at the Kings table.

“Are you well father?” Rihards asked.

“I am not feeling myself, but I will survive.” Niklav Bauska replied. “I do think I will retire though,” he said turning to Niklav. “Forgive an old man for his weakness.” He said with a smile.

“No forgiveness is needed your majesty.” Niklav said as he stood. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

As King Niklav Bauska rose a wave of pain and nausea swept through him; his knees buckled beneath him sending him to the floor.

“Father!” Rihards gasped.

“I am fine son,” the King replied waving Rihards hand away and getting to his feet. “Simply tired, I will find my sheets.”

“Let us help you.” Rihards said looking to Mikhail.

Mikhail simply sat back at the table. “Perhaps Niklav would enjoy the honor of helping our fine King to his chambers.”

Niklav looked from Mikhail to Rihards angry eyes. “It would be my pleasure.” Niklav answered as he moved to put his shoulder under the Kings arm.

Mikhail focused on his goblet and refilling it with beer ignoring the glares of his father and brother.  “Would you care for more beer Korina?” He asked as Rihards led Niklav and the King toward his father’s chambers.

“Many thanks but I have had my fill.” Korina replied her eyes following her husband until he was lost to the darkness of the passage.

“Tell me Princess,” Mikhail said taking her hand in his. “Do you, as granddaughter to a king, as a royal and beautiful woman, ever worry that you will one day regret marrying beneath you?”

Korina shook, desperate to pull her hand away but fearful of the consequences. “I have no such fears my Lord. Niklav is a great man, honored among our people, and the love of my life.”

“Ah, love, so that is how a simple merchant claimed such a prize as you.” Mikhail lifted her hand, pushed his lips against it. “Well, my lovely Korina, if you ever find you would have a King in your bed and at your side rather than common man know I would welcome you into my arms.”

Korina eased her hand from his grip. “That is very kind my Lord, but I doubt I would ever want anything from you. After Niklav’s  touch I can’t imagine feeling pleasure at your hands.”

The fury that twisted Mikhail’s features almost made Korina regret the boldness of her tongue, but the vile that spewed from his lips erased any hint of remorse.

“Someone has failed to teach you respect woman!” Mikhail said slamming his cup against the table. “Your tongue is as a whip now, but mark my words whore you will one day find it between my teeth and your body beneath my cock. We will see if you are so brazen then.” Mikhail stood, turned on his heel and marched from the room.

Korina’s breath heaved in and out of her chest as he strode away. Arrogant ass! She thought. God help these people when King Niklav Bauska dies.

 

***

All day Niklav Bauska had ignored the pain and discomfort, but as he removed his robes the pain in his groin, armpits and neck was almost unbearable. The slightest touch, the weight of his clothing against his skin was like a knife thrust deep in flesh. His head ached, pounding against his temples from the inside, as he eased himself into bed.

So I am to die, Niklav Bauska thought as he pulled the blankets up to his chin, over his shivering body. I must call my sons and the elders in the morning; I pray God give me the strength to establish Rihards before I pass.

Mikhail arrived at the main lodge as the sun stole over the horizon.

“My Lord, my Lord!” The servant cried as he exited the Kings chambers. “Thank heavens you are here I was about to fetch you! The King, he is extremely ill!”

“I will see to him.” Mikhail repressed a smile at he pushed against the heavy wooden doors.

“Shall I fetch the physician and Lord Rihards?”

“No, I will see to the King first. Go to the kitchen and prepare him soup.”

“You would have me cook my Lord? Should I not gather the cook from his sheets?”

“No! Do not question me!” Mikhail burst.

“Yes my Lord,” the servant said as he scurried away.

The stench of vomit blanketed the great room, the suffocating, stale aroma of death sucking. Niklav Bauska’s labored breathing was as a song to Mikhail’s ears. Standing at his father’s side, Mikhail allowed his eyes to slither greedily over the ring upon his father’s hand. Beaten gold, it boasted the ancient symbol of their people, the horse; it being the mark of the King, the ruling house. It will be mine. Mikhail thought as his father’s eyes struggled to open.

“Mikhail,” Niklav Bauska whispered. “I’m pleased you have come. Where is your brother?”

“He is not here.” Mikhail replied.

“Fetch him and the elders that I might set things to right before I depart this earth.” The King coughed, and turned to his side. “The bowl!” he commanded and spewed green bile into the wooden dish in Mikhail’s hands.

“Father, I cannot gather them.” Mikhail said as he set the bowl aside.

“Why?”

“There will be no transfer of power, not altering of your will.”

“Is your brain addled boy!” Niklav Bauska burst and was consumed by a fit of coughing.

“You will not live to see my birthright stolen from me!” Mikhail spit. “As I carried the demon from the house of Vilhelm to your cup; I will aid it in your demise!”

Niklav Bauska paled. “My son, what have you done?”

“Do not worry father your disappointment in me shall soon be at an end!” Mikhail cursed as he lifted the pillow at his father’s side.

“Mikhail! No!” Niklav Bauska’s cries were muffled as he gave what little energy he had left to struggle for air.

“Take what is mine would you? I have not suffered your dissatisfaction and scorn the entirety of my life to be cast aside and stripped of my birthright now!”

“No, I have loved you!”

The stifled plea of love only angered Mikhail further, lending strength to his purpose.

“Good bye father,” Mikhail snarled as the jerking stopped, he then reached for the bowl of vomit and poured it over his father’s face.

The servant jumped as Mikhail walked into the kitchen and called his name. “My Lord,” he said and he fell to the floor. “How may I serve you? Would you have me fetch the physician now?”

“No, his Lordship has fallen asleep and does not wish to be disturbed. I must give farewell to our guests then I will return to check on him. No one is to enter his room until I return. Is that understood?”

“Yes my Lord.”

Mikhail imagined the royal crown on his head and the throne beneath him as he walked toward the city gates. “Rihard!” Mikhail called out in surprise as his brother stepped through the towering entrance. “What brings you here?”

“Brother,” Rihards smiled. “Niklav came to thank us once again for our hospitality this morn, and I escorted him to the gates. They ride from here as even we speak.”

“Niklav came to you?”

“Yes, he feared father would not be up since he was not well last eave. He did not wish to disturb him.” Rihards explained.

“But I am the eldest and heir; why would he not come to me?” Mikhail’s teeth ground together.

“My brother, I’m sure it was not a purposeful slight against you.”

“Niklav is a common dog, and his pompous attitude is what offends!” Mikhail turned back toward the castle and continued before Rihards could object. “I have just received word that father is extremely ill. We should go to him.”

“Who brings word?” Rihard asked, worry creasing his brow.

“Our Lords body servant. Let us go.”

“My Lords,” the servant said scurrying up from the floor outside the King’s chambers and following them as they opened the doors.

“Father,” Rihards called as he entered the room. “Oh God!” He cried as he approached the bed. “Father!” He reached pulling his father’s lifeless body into his arms. Tears poured from his eyes as he examined his purple, vomit covered face.

“It is the plague! It is the plague!” The servant cried.

“Why did you not send for us sooner?!” Rihards screamed at the servant and pulled his arms from around his lifeless father.

“But my Lord-”

Mikhail cut off the servants response with a hard fist in the face. “Why?” Mikhail screamed forcing tears from his eyes. “Why did you not fetch the physician?!” The hard kick to the servant’s middle had him gasping for breath. “Why?!” Mikhail cried again and pulled his sword.

“No brother!” Rihard yelled as Mikhail swung the blade down and severed the man’s head.

“Oh God!” Mikhail cried. “Oh God!” Tears plunged from his face. “Our father, our father,” he yelled as he staggered toward Niklav Bauska’s bed and fell to his knees.

Rihards swallowed hard, and as the pain filled him he fell to his brother’s side and embraced him. In what Rihards thought was their shared agony, he forgot the servant and the blood on his brother’s sword.

***

As Rihards watched the knights and people of their city each formally pledge their loyalty to his brother, King Bauska Mikhail, in solemn ceremony the words his father had said to Mikhail the night of their return rang in his head. “You would sacrifice the lives of your own people to coddle your pride! You are selfish, and undeserving to be a leader.”

“Rihards,” Mikhail called. “Rihards!” he called again when his brother did not answer.

“Forgive me,” Rihards apologized. “I became lost is thought.” He tried to smile.

“The priest has asked you a question.” Mikhail said through thin lips.

“Do you swear loyalty to his majesty Lord Bauska Mikhail?” The priest reiterated.

Rihards hesitated and thought it was only a second he saw the anger it evoked in his brother. “I do swear fealty to my brother and this city.” Rihard bowed. Something twisted in his gut as Rihard watched the crown being placed on Mikhail’s head. God help us, he prayed.

Freya’s Prayer – Part Two – Loved Beauty

Posted in Anthology, Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Works in Progress with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 30, 2011 by cjirwin

 

Enjoy Part One, Hated Beauty.

 

Two

Loved Beauty

Three Years Before, 1427

The Village Bauska, Livonia (Medieval Latvia)

 

Freya could not suppress her smile as her father Eric prayed. Hands twitching in her brothers hands, she stood with her family in a circle. “Holy One, we ask that you protect Freya from dark and evil spirits on this day that we celebrate her coming to earth. Give her family and friends the strength to protect her on this, her fourteenth birthday.”

Eric opened his eyes and smiled down at his lovely daughter. Her black hair picked up light as she turned to smile at her two brothers. “We will protect you when you are most vulnerable,” her older brother Baylor boasted. Freya beamed him a lovely grin, her full lips red and soft.

She is nearly too lovely, Eric thought. “So, who wants to go first?”

“I do, oh me father!” Aldimar, Freya’s younger brother cried. His hazel eyes sparkling with hope.

“Very well then,” Eric said through a smile.

Aldimar’s brown curls bounced as he ran to his sister. Reaching out, he placed a fresh loaf of honey bread in her palms. “For health,” Aldimar declared and turned his little body toward his father for approval. Eric nodded at his handsome nine-year-old son.

“Baylor,” Eric said and tipped his head toward Freya.

With much more dignity, Baylor stepped to his sister and placed a single copper coin in her extended hand. With gentleness, and a deep affection lighting his eyes, he wrapped his sister’s hand around the piece of metal. “For wealth and prosperity,” leaning in he whispered. “I love you little sister.”

Freya kissed him on the cheek and thought she could never love a boy as much as she loved and adored her big brother. “Thank you Baylor. I love thee too.”

“Let’s go hang the flag! Let’s go hang the flag!” Aldimar cried as he jumped and tugged on his father’s tunic.

“Calm down,” Eric and Beta, Freya’s mother, said nearly in unison but chuckling.

Freya led the way to the front door and was pleased to receive nods and wishes of protection from people of her community already out. Her entire body shook with joy; this was her day she thought as her father hoisted their family flag over the door in honor of her birthday.

They enjoyed white cake for breakfast with charms baked into the batter for protection, while remembering things that Freya had done.

“Do you remember the time you and Ionia cut your hair and tried to run away?” Baylor asked, laughter bubbling from his chest.

“You looked like boy!” Aldimar hooted.

“Hey! These are supposed to be nice stories!” Freya complained, but couldn’t help but to laugh along with her family.

“Alright, you children can run along,” Eric said to Freya, Baylor and Aldimar. “Boys don’t forget to say the protection prayers over your sister, and don’t leave her. And stay away from the house of Vilhelm they have the Sickness.”

“Yes father,” Baylor solemnly nodded his head.

“So where are we going?” Freya asked as they walked away from their home.

“I heard that Lord Bauska -Niklav expects travelers soon. It could be today.”

“Truly! How exciting!”

“If we wait near the gates we may see them.” Baylor smiled.

“We may also see your Brea.” Freya grinned at the hope that grew on her older brother’s face.

“It is my plan.”

They tossed dice near the wide, wooden gates attached to walls of menacingly pointed pillars. Baylor regularly glanced toward Brea’s house located near the front gates of their village. It was near the main lodge. Brea was the granddaughter of Lord Bauska- Niklav, daughter of his second son Rihards, but Baylor could not help the love that welled inside him for her. His breath hitched in his throat as she stepped out her door. Her fine golden hair, pulled back in a braid, cast the sunlight back toward the sky, her grey eyes lighting as soon as she saw his face.

With pretenses of going to wish Freya safety on her birthday, Brea lightly walked toward the boy who filled her heart.  “Freya,” she called, her voice smooth, honey. “Blessed day to you. Has your family hung their flag to honor your day of birth?” She spoke to Freya but looked at Baylor.

“Yes they have. Your day of celebration is soon right?” Freya asked.

“Yes,” Brea smiled at the thought and turned, for a moment, to Freya. “My sixteenth is coming. My Father will announce who my betrothed is at the celebration. I have great hopes it will be your brother.” Brea stopped, red rising under her peach skin, “excuse me,” she said looking to Baylor. “I had not intended to say so much.”

“Do not worry my love,” Baylor whispered. “It is my prayer as well.” Smiling, he reached for her hand. Brea glanced toward her house and seeing no parent or adults slid her hand into his.

***

“Please Father,” Freya pleaded. “Baylor will be with me. All the youth are going; I am now fourteen.”

“Baylor you plan to attend the bonfire this eave?” Eric asked as he ladled another spoonful of rabbit stew into his mouth.

“I had hoped to Father. That is, of course, if you approve.”

“Will Rihard’s daughter be there?” Beta asked as she set a loaf of steaming bread on the dinner table.

“I believe so.” Baylor said filling his mouth with bread.

“Son,” Eric said looking at his Baylor. “I have done all in my power to put your name in her father’s ear, but she is above your station. Despite the fact our holdings are greater than most here, we are not royalty. Rihard waits even now for word from the village to the east on word of a royal marriage between the houses.”    

“I am aware father.” Baylor said taking a deep breath. “But I must try. My heart is hers, I am powerless.”

Sympathy filled Eric’s eyes, and he said a little prayer to the Great One for his son’s happiness. “Go then, both of you.”

Freya’s smile filled the room. Baylor’s mind was too burdened to think to lift his lips.

“But if any of the Vilhelm children are there you are to leave.”

“I believe the whole house is too ill to be out.” Freya said. “The baby died in the night last eave.”

“God help us.” Beta whispered.

“It is the Black Death then?” Eric asked turning to Beta.

“It seems to be. The babe’s throat was black.”

“You went to that house!?” Eric’s voice rose in fear.

“No my husband, that is by word of Danya’s mouth.”  Beta defended.

“Um,” Freya ventured. “The fire is to be lit at sunset.”

“Go then,” Eric smiled.

Freya’s heart thumped loudly against her ribs as they approached the North field. Young people moved to toss limbs and branches onto the large pile left from clearing the field.

“Baylor!” A thick, virile voice called out. “Tis about time you arrived. We thought we would have to give light to the pile without you!”

“I couldn’t let you that, now could I Richard. Simply wouldn’t be right since I have done most of the work to clear this field.” Baylor smiled and slapped his friend on the back.

“You!” Richard crowed. “I am twice the man my friend, and thus did twice the work.”

Freya smiled at the two young men. Richard had always been there with Baylor, they had been inseparable as long as she could remember. Richards eyes frothed with delight, like a boiling blue sea, Freya could not rip her gaze from him. His full angled lips, always lifted, made something inside her sing. His long golden hair, always braided back, tidy, clean, not like the other boys, made her fingers itch to feel. His hearty, carefree laugh made her forget even the death that loomed at their cities door.

“I see you have brought your lovely sister.” Richard said as he turned to Freya.

The full force of his eyes made her gasp inside.

“Aye, that I have. Would you keep an eye on her for me for a moment? Have you seen Brea?” Baylor said as he looked around.

“I am not a baby to be coddled.” Freya complained scowling at her brother.

“I would be most pleased to keep my eyes on your sister.” Richard said with a shrewd smile.

Freya smiled forgetting her objection, and Baylor raised an eyebrow at his friends tone.

“What?” Richard asked beaming him a smile. “Oh look,” he said pointing. “Is that Brea?”

Without another word, Baylor stepped quickly away.

“Richard!” A young boy called holding a torch. “If you do not light this I will.”

“Go ahead brother!” Richard called back. “I have more pressing matters.” Richard smiled at Freya, and his brother shrugged his shoulders and tossed the flame onto the pile of wood. With crackles and sparks it came to life evoking cheers and smiles from the young people around.

“Now who has the brew?” Someone called making Richard smile.

“I have something for you.” Richard said reaching for Freya’s hand. “Come on.” He led her to a log near the growing bonfire, and reached beside it after they sat.

“Oh!” Freya gasped as he pulled out a bouquet of daisies. “They’re beautiful!” She lifted the white pedals to her nose and drew in a deep breath.

“Not nearly as lovely as you,” Richard ran the tip of his finger along her jaw. “I wanted to give you something in honor of your day of birth and decide you were much too beautiful for bread. So then I thought I would give you a coin, but they are so cold. When I saw these flowers I wondered if I had seen anything more divine? The first thing that came to mind was your face.”

Freya wanted to cry. “You are too kind.” She swallowed hard.

“No, I am not nearly kind enough.” Richard smiled. “May I also give you another gift?”

“Another!” Freya grinned. “You would make me the envy of all the girls.”

“May I then, do you trust me?” Richards’s voice was so light, so fun.

“That I do.” Freya smiled, and was shocked when he laid his hands on either side of her face.

“May I kiss thy lips?” he whispered.

Unable to speak, Freya simply nodded her head.

Richards’s lips were soft, warm, against hers. His breath was sweet wine against her skin. Insides humming, she reacted to him, pushed toward him invitingly. He sucked in a breath, and drew her warmth against him as the kiss built. Everything faded for Freya except his heat, lips and form against her. In that instant everything changed, never to be the same.

Shouts and cheers from the people around the fire interrupted the kiss. They drew apart still lost in each other’s eyes.

“Richard you lucky bastard!” A male voice called out.

Richard chuckled. “It Seems I am to be the envy of all my friends.”

Freya blushed, too shaken to speak.

***

“Welcome home Father,” Rihards called as he stepped through the heavy wooden door to King Niklav-Bauska’s chamber.

“Rihard! My boy! I have missed you.” Niklav-Bauska called out. “Where have you been?”

“Many apologies My Lord, I had to attend to the house of Vilhelm. Last eve they lost their youngest daughter, and this very day Sir Vilhelm lost both his sons.”

“God forbid! Then it is the Black Death!” Niklav-Bauska replied all traces of humor gone.

“Yes Father as we feared.”

Niklav-Bauska ran his wrinkled hand over his thick grey beard. “And we are helpless against it?”

“Aye,” Rihard said as he filled a goblet with wine from his father’s table. “The physician says the entire family has the demon in them.”

“He believes they will all die?”

Rihards only nodded.

“God help us.”

“Yes, I fear many more will meet Him before we are through this.”

“I have other unfortunate news my son.”

Rihards took a deep breath. “Were your trading efforts not successful with Lord Tallinn? What of the suitor for my daughter?”

“I failed on all accounts.” Niklav-Bauska shook his head. “Your brother has disappointed again.”

“Are you surprised Father? What has Mikhail done this time?”

“He gave Tallinn’s wife the horn in his own house!” Though disgusted, Niklav-Bauska couldn’t help the smile.

“Mikhail bed the Queen!?”

“Aye, apparently that old bastard wasn’t giving his young queen the time she deserved so your brother took it upon himself to fulfill her every desire. The stupid braggart got caught though, and we scarcely escaped with our heads!”

“So there shan’t be an alliance in the near future between our people.” Rihards commented rubbing his knuckles along his chin.

“I’d venture to say nay, and pray that we don’t end up with a war on our hands over the whole ordeal!”

“War?”

“Aye, never have I seen a man more angry. Their people suffer the demon disease, and though I hate to think it, that may save us. There is more I want to discuss Rihard, but I hear your brother.” Bauska turned to the knock at the door. “Come!”

Mikhail marched into the room, his thick jaw, covered with dark hair already firmly set in a scowl.

“Big Brother,” Rihards called. Mikhail turned to him, his face softening slightly. “Welcome home.”

“Rihards,” Mikhail’s gruff voice returned as they embraced.

Rihards is the only person Mikhail has ever truly loved. Niklav-Bauska thought as he watched his sons embrace.

“You wanted to see me father?” Mikhail asked.

“Yes, I feel I have calmed enough to speak to you on what happened at Tallinn. What do you have to say?”

“Must I explain myself? I bedded a whore!”

“Must you explain yourself?” Niklav-Bauska burst! “You bedded the damn Queen of a neighboring village! You cost us a valuable trading partner and a husband for your niece Brea! God damn Mikhail! Tallinn has iron we need; what are we to do now!? You may have just caused a blasted war!”

“Good!” Mikhail yelled back. “You would suck King Tallinn’s cock! He over charges us, speaks to us as if we were common slaves, and you wish to make alliance! We should take the iron. We should take the land! We do not need that spineless, old, rat! His people are sick, now is the time to move!”

“You would sacrifice the lives of your own people to coddle your pride! You are selfish, and undeserving to be a leader!” Niklav- Bauska’s face burned brightly the veins bulging.

“You doubt my ability to lead!?” Mikhail cursed, Rihards reached for his shoulder, reached to calm him. Mikhail hit his hand away.

“Aye, I do! I have given it great thought and not only do I doubt your ability, I am also ashamed to call you my son! As of this moment you are no longer my heir!”

Rihards gasped and stepped back from his enraged brother.

“Rihards is far more capable to lead.” Niklav-Bauska said more calmly.

Mikhail’s body shook as he turned and walked from the room. We will see old man, Mikhail thought. I’ll watch the life eke from your body before I let you take my birthright!

 

As Mikhail stormed from the building he interrupted a servant’s conversation. “They say that the demon sickness gets in the blood. Oh, Lord Mikhail.”

“What are you doing standing around!” Mikhail screamed and knocked the man down.

“Forgive me My Lord.” The servant begged and cowered.

Mikhail kicked the man in the stomach. “Get back to work you worthless scum!”

The two servants scurried away before Mikhail could unleash any more fury.

“Blood, huh,” Mikhail said with a wicked smile and stepped into the night.

Mikhail took a deep breath, rallying his courage and knocked on the door of Sir Vilhelm’s home. When no one answered, he let himself in and was assaulted by the stench of death. Wailing carried through the house as a mother grieved over the dead child in her arms. Vomit caked around her purple little lips, Vilhelm’s last child had bled to death after the gruesome looking swelling and bruising in her neck had ruptured. Lost in their grief and suffering the sickness themselves, the couple did not even notice Mikhail slip into the room where there other children lay dead in rows on the floor. Mikhail’s stomach turned, and he held his shirt to his mouth and nose. Yanking the cover off one of one of the children, Mikhail drew his dagger, gagged, regained himself, then simply laid the metal on the pus, blood and maggots that moved on the child’s neck. He bolted from the house, doubling over gasping for air as he exited.

It was rare for Mikhail to want to bathe, but as he entered the Main Lodge’s kitchen, he yearned for a tub of hot water and lye soap. Perfect!  Mikhail thought as he watched his father’s servant prepare his tray.

“Lord Mikhail!” The servant cried out startled and dropped prostrate to the floor.

“I will take that to the King.” Mikhail said harshly.

“Yes my lord, of course.” The servant said face on the dusty wood.

Mikhail sneered as he stirred his father’s beer with his bloody knife. “On second thought,” Mikhail said nudging the servant with his foot. “You go ahead. Don’t doddle; you know how his Lordship hates to be hungry.”

“As you wish Lord Mikhail,” The servant stood, gathered the tray and hurried away from Mikhail.

Heart Eaters – Part Ten – Lucy – The Culmination

Posted in Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Nightmare, Works in Progress with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 29, 2010 by cjirwin

(Please note: This post contains graphic violence and adult content.) 

Part Ten

Lucy – The Culmination –

 

“Come on Susan, are you sure it’s not too soon for this?” Lucy asked her sister as Susan pushed her out the door.

“It’s not too soon. You and Doug have been together for five months right?”

“Well, yes, if you count from the first time we made love in November, but I mean for the kids. Isn’t it too soon for me to be going away with him like this? I don’t even know where he’s taking me.” Lucy reasoned.

“Listen Luce, it’s not too soon. Stop worrying. It’s romantic that he has a surprise plan for you this weekend, and its damn lucky so quit complaining and quit making him wait outside in the car. I’ve got the kids. Don’t worry, just go!” Susan said and gave Lucy a hard shove out the door.

Lucy walked toward Doug’s car, toward the gorgeous, dark-haired, green-eyed god in the front seat. He is simply fantastic looking, Lucy thought. Doug’s eyes followed her every move. He couldn’t see enough of her, feel enough of her, drink enough of the sound of her voice. Insatiable, was his need for the lovely woman who walked toward him.

Lucy continued to worry over her children and her salvation, as she open the door, but she wanted Doug, wanted to be with him, the heat of her thoughts for him almost too much.

“Is this ok?” Doug asked, worry creasing his brow. “Is it too much, too soon? We don’t have to go away for the weekend. I don’t care where I am as long as I can be with you.” He dragged a finger along her jaw line, across her lips.

Breathing deeply, Lucy resolved herself to keep that crease off his brow all weekend, he deserved that. “No Doug, I want to go. I’m excited. Really. It’s been a long time since I’ve been surprised, and I love surprises. So, let’s go.” Lucy shoved all her worries aside, letting a smile and anticipation take their place.

Overjoyed, Doug simply set his lips on hers. Tasting her, warm, soft, tender lips was like being wrapped in spring.

Saturday morning traffic was minimal as they drove out-of-town. Hand in hand, they enjoyed the warm spring air that moved through the car.

“Scott State Park and Wildlife reserve,” Lucy read as they slowed and turned. “Wonderful!”

“Well, I know you love hiking, and animals, and sunsets over water so I thought this would be ideal, and Susan said you’ve never been here.”

“You seem to know a great deal about me my dear,” Lucy smiled.

“I want to know it all.” Doug said as he pulled up to the Parks main office. “I just have to run in here quickly. I’ll be right back.” He leaned in, pecked her on the mouth.

Lucy admired his long muscles and strong pace as he hurried in and out. “Wow that was quick!” Lucy laughed as he jumped back into the car, a school-boy grin on his face.

They moved away from the highway and cabin office the asphalt merging into a brown gravel road that wound fetching through lush, wooded forest. Lucy senses feasted on the beauty of the bright, fresh, green leaves, the brilliant colors and scents of periwinkle’s and wild roses, the sound of water tumbling over smooth rocks before in seeped into the beautiful lake in the distance. Her breath caught as they pulled up to quaint log cabin, grey, weathered, natural, it was simply perfect in Lucy’s mind. Lucy didn’t think she could be any more charmed, but as they opened the door she discovered she was wrong. Golden, superbly finished pine blanketed the walls and floors, small darker colored knots in the wood adding rustic character. Deep green curtains dressed the large windows singing of new life and bright, freshly cut daffodils grace the round kitchen table. The brown leather sofa was plush and inviting, making Lucy want to fall into its waiting arms.

“Doug! This is beautiful!” Lucy sang as she spun around.

Doug set two brown paper bags on the counter and began unloading them into the icebox. “I’m so glad you like it.” 

“Well, you’ve thought of everything.” Lucy said as she watched him put fruit, chocolate, wine, a whole chicken in.

“I tried. Are you hungry? It’s just after noon. I could throw something together real quick, but I am going to make you my famous roast chicken for dinner.” Smiling, he turned to her.

“I don’t want food.” Lucy said with a smirk.

“Mm, what is it your after my dear?” Doug asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Lucy pushed his arms back and yanked on his collar with a mischievous grin. Doug’s breathing hastened when she slammed her lips against his, primal needs blazing through them. He reached for her, but she pushed his arms away again and began to pull him from the kitchen. Surprise mixed with pleasure, lighted his face as she backed him up to the couch and pushed. Sitting, struggling for breath, he watched as Lucy slowly unbuttoned her silky, white blouse and threw it in his lap. His teeth ground together as her tan pencil skirt piled on the floor at her feet.

“You’re exquisite!” Doug breathed.

They spoke softly as they snuggled on the couch; little things like her favorite bird or flower. Relaxed and unbelievably happy, she drifted into dreamless sleep.

Lucy woke to the rich scent of roasting chicken, and it made her aware of her aching, empty stomach. Wrapped in a warm blanket and nestled on the couch she had recently made love on, Lucy smiled as she watched Doug move expertly around the kitchen.

“You’re spoiling me.” Lucy said as she sat up.

Doug turned. “Mm, it seems to me that I was the one getting spoiled earlier.” He walked toward her naked body, leaned to kiss her then her.

“Mm,” Lucy purred. “It was as much for me as it was for you my dear.”

As he walked back toward the kitchen, she noticed he had the table set, champagne sparkling in the tall wine glasses he had remembered to bring, and two white candles lit, glowing softly. “It seems I’ve slept the afternoon away. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Doug called as he walked into the bedroom and retrieved a terry bathrobe. Sitting, he wrapped it around her shoulders. “That’s what I want. You relaxing and making mad love to me all weekend. I’m not surprised you slept so long after the ride you gave me this afternoon.” Lucy blushed. “Come eat my love.” Doug stopped. He hadn’t meant to call her that. Knowing how deeply Lucy had loved Robert had made Doug very careful with that word. He knew, without a doubt that he loved her, but he didn’t want to say it for fear she would feel pushed. It was undeniable that he knew she had strong feelings for him, but he could wait, forever if he needed to for her to realize that she loved him back.

It was like a quick twist in her heart. Love, I am his love. Why is it that the parasite guilt is most fond of love as a host? Lucy squirmed. Am I ready? Can I say it?

 

“Come eat with me,” Doug said relieving her of the decision right then.

***

By the time they drove away from the cabin on Sunday evening dark, heavy clouds bruised the sky. Wind tossed leaves and branches on the road as they were pounded by spring rain.

The children squealed with delight as they ran through the rain and piled into the back of Doug’s car. They dragged him into Lucy’s house when they arrived, and had him sitting in front of the television watching a whistling Mickey Mouse. Lucy smiled at the way they jumped into his lap, pulled at his tie and jabbered relentlessly in his ear. Patiently, he answered, played and held.

***

Lucy lay on her side in her bed reading. The white whale, Moby Dick and his nemesis, Captain Ahab had always fascinated her. Literary genius!  Lucy thought. The sound of chirping made her role, and she was surprised to find a small black bird singing on her bed-side-stand.

“Hey little one,” Lucy crooned as she reached. “What are you doing in here?”

Still singing, the small bird settled onto Lucy’s finger, and she stared in wonderment.

As it sang its beak opened wider and wider until the skin at the edges began to tear and bleed. Lucy gasped as the little bird was rent in two, blood covering her hands and dripping to the floor. In shock, Lucy threw the pieces to the carpet. They began to boil, feathers, bone, innards becoming a gross soup. Birds, loud, squawking, creatures began pouring from the remains. They pecked at Lucy drawing blood, screeched as they wound themselves in her hair. Through the cloud of frantic feathered creatures, Lucy bolted for her bedroom door. Lucy fell into the darkness, but it was not the pine hardwood floor of her hall at her nose. Soil, rancid rotting dirt, covered her lips, her face, filling her with the smell of blood and death. Frantically, she searched for anything other than mud, dirt and blood. In the distance she saw a lights exploding in the air, the earth shook, her ears ached at the tumult of sound crashing upon her. She ran. Without direction, she thrust herself further into the mayhem of whistling bullets and falling bombs. She cried out as she fell into a trench, small glowing lanterns littered the bottom casting light on broken, gutted soldiers. Even as Lucy screamed, she recognized the faces of the men at her sides. Robert, body splayed open, intestines green and rotting smiled up at her.

“Hey Love,” he said, blood on his teeth.

Throwing her hand over her mouth Lucy turned away, but found no relief. Doug’s head lay against her leg only feet from his amputated arm, leg, and torso. Lucy vomited.

“Hey Love,” Doug’s head sang. “Are you ill?”

“Momma, momma!” Violet shook her screaming mother, tears beginning to slip from her little blue eyes. “Wake up!”

Lucy jerked awake. In one quick sweep, she scanned the room, halting abruptly at Violets red, teary eyes.

“Momma, are you ok?” Violet cried. “That’s worse than I’ve ever seen you. I thought the dreams had stopped.”

“Oh baby, I’m sorry.” Eyes wet with tears and body shaking, Lucy gathered Violet to her, drawing strength.

As the coffee brewed, filling the air with a warm scent of a new day, Lucy called Susan. “No sis, you don’t have to come over.” Lucy answered after she told Susan she had dreamed again, and it had been one of the worst. “Really,” she tried to reason. “What kind of shrink makes house calls at seven in the morning?”

“The sister kind,” Susan replied. “I’ll see you in thirty, the kids are up anyway and want to see their cousins.”

Lucy paced the kitchen cradling a hot cup of coffee with one sugar and two creams.

“What does it mean?” Lucy pleaded of Susan. “I can’t bear to lose them both!” She cried.

“Oh, honey your dreams are just screwed up.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” Lucy asked and couldn’t help but to smile.

“Lucy you can’t be afraid to love because you’re afraid to lose.”

“I know. Feeling alive again has made that clear.”

“Then don’t worry about it. Now don’t you have to work?”

“Damn, yes, I was distracted. I’ve got to get moving.” Lucy said as she jumped up and set her dirty mug in the sink.

“Just go. I can get the kids ready and take them to school.” Susan said standing a kissing her sisters cheek. “I love you. You love him, don’t be afraid of that, embrace it.”

“I do don’t I?” Lucy said a smile spreading across her face. “I do.”

Lucy was still smiling as she grabbed her umbrella and walked out the door. Merrily, her heart circled in her chest as she rode the transit distracting her from the storm that ragged.

“Your umbrella Miss,” the driver said as she stepped up to the door.

“Huh,” Lucy responded.

“Your umbrella, you’ve forgotten it.” He said pointing to the seat she had warmed.

“Oh, thank you.” Lucy smiled.

“You’re welcome,” he responded his haggard, old face lighting. “You’re gonna need it!”

She skipped through the rain toward the double doors, surprised at her own lightness of heart. Doug, bright and striking, stood by her locker in the break room.

“Lucy, thank god!” Doug said smiling, the lines on his face smoothing. “You’re late, with the storm I was worried.”

With breezy like steps, she moved to him, laid her lips on him and eased his mind. “You worry too much my love.”

Breath hitched in his chest. Did she just say that? Doug wondered. She did, she called me her love. It’s not exactly, ‘I love you’, but you haven’t actually said that yet either. He pulled her into his arms. “You have made my life worth living my love.” His forehead fell against hers.

“And you have brought me back to life, my heart now beats because of you.” Lucy whispered.

Doug squeezed her tighter, breathing in the scent of her. “How am I supposed to do my rounds with you on my brain?”

“Maybe we’ll have to sneak off to the supply closet for lunch.” Lucy couldn’t stop the giggle.

“We could sneak off now.” He nuzzled her neck. Taking one glance around, Doug grasped Lucy’s hand and pulled her toward the closet. With a quiet click the door opened and shut. Lucy had her legs around his waist within seconds, her lips pressed hard to his. He held her, cradled her around him, relishing her warmth, her eager touch. They bumped against the shelves knocking things to the floor. Hands moved, caressed, set afire emotion and desire. Frantic for her, and insane with yearning, Doug moved across the small room and set her on the counter. His breath heaved in and out like the storm that raged outside as he pushed up her nurses dress revealing her white guarder, and thigh-high hose. Her panties, simply soft and white, did more for him than any lace he had ever felt in his life.

Lucy loved the look on his face, the school-boy adoration. The knowing she was so desperately wanted sent shivers down her spine. She kissed his lips, his neck, his collar and whispered in his ear. They moved, loved, explored each other hearts and souls.

Gasping and shaking, they held each other.  Doug pulled his face from her shoulder seeking her eyes. After running his hands through her hair her took her face in his hands and gently kissed her lips.

He pushed against her smiling at her warmth. “Lucy,” Doug said tracing his finger along her jaw, “I have to tell you, I know it soon for you. But I have to say-.”

“No, Doug.” Lucy interrupted. Doug swallowed hard; worrying it was as he feared, too soon for her to be in love with him as he was with her. “Doug, you’ve saved my life,” Lucy began running the tip of her finger over his brow. “Made me want and feel pleasure again.” Lucy saw the ache in his eyes as he wondered if that could be enough for him. “But more than that Doug,” her heart fluttered in fear and excitement, “I have found that I can love again.” Doug exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “Doug, I’m in love with you. I love you.”

“Oh god, Lucy,” he tightened his hold. “I love you. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. I have dreamed of holding you, of loving you, but mostly of you loving me.” He took her mouth fiercely in a greedy kiss that brought tears to Lucy’s eyes.

They smiled, teased, and couldn’t keep their hands to themselves as they tried to make themselves presentable. Hand in hand they walked from the little room.

Sirens filled the air.

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked. “Where is everyone?”

“That’s the hospitals storm warning system,” Doug said looking around then stopping, focusing on the hail that pounded against the window. They felt a tremor move through the floor. “Tornado! We need to get to the shelter!” Doug pulled her as he hurried out of the room. The lights flickered as the wind and hail beat against the building. “Oh, my god!” Doug heaved and halted. Lightening flashed in the distance as they watched the clouds circle in the heavens. Wind sucked downward and soil raised from the ground as the first cyclone formed. It was small, but as it spun it dragged earth and sky to it. It mounted on, feed on, and massacred the world around.

“Come on Lucy!” Doug called as they ran through the halls.

A loud whirling sound overpowered the alarm, and Doug and Lucy fell as the building jerked, heaved and settled, a large portion being torn away on the opposite end.

“What’s the fasted way to get there?” Doug asked Lucy. “I’ve never actually done a drill, you’ve been here longer.”

“There’s a stairwell at the end of the C.I. Wing that goes straight to the east storm cellar.”

They ran.

“Oh my god!” Doug halted in front of the C.I. doors. “What is that?”

Blood seeped under the door, running in bright rivers along the wall.

“Someone must be hurt!” Lucy cried and pushed through the door.

“Lucy no!” Doug screamed and reached for her.

Lucy froze. Donald lay dead on the floor, blood pumping from his crushed skull. Heath stood above Donald’s body a smile tearing at his features. “Stupid bastard thought he would save us!”

Lucy’s stomach turned. “You monster!” She screamed and without thinking lunged for him.

“No!” Doug jumped, knocked Lucy out of the way and tackled Heath.

Landing hard on her butt, Lucy scrambled to reach Doug as he fought with Heath. Insanity burned in Heath’s eyes as he swung wildly at Doug. Doug cried out as Heath’s fist connected with his jaw.

“Bastard!” Doug cursed and threw his knuckles with everything in him. Blood dripped from Heath’s eye, his lips, but he felt no pain, morphine pumping through him. With a cackle, Heath slammed Doug against the wall, breaking the glass case with a fire hose and ax in it. The broken glass cut into Doug side. Lucy screamed as she watched red stain his bright white coat. Without thought, she jumped for Heath knocking him back and Doug fell to the floor.

Heath turned on her, lust burning his insides. “I told you I’d have you.” He cried as he punched Lucy square in the face. Her head rang as she hit the floor. Struggling to stay conscious, she focused on the flickering lights on the ceiling. Heath forced the air from her chest as he fell on her, hitting her face again. Lucy coughed, tried to scramble from beneath him as he ripped at her dress.

“How dare you touch her!” Doug shouted as he jumped on Heath’s back and wrapped his left arm around the psychopath’s throat. Heath felt his windpipe crush and jerked against Doug as he squeezed. A small strangled sound escaped Heaths lips a he took his last breath. Doug dropped him to the floor.

“Lucy!” Doug reached, took her into his arms. “Oh god,” he wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. “We have to get out of here!” The floor trembled, they could hear glass shattering down the hall, wind sucking at the life in the building. Lucy felt his tense muscles as he lifted her into his arms.

“I can walk,” she mewed.

“No you can’t.” He said as he kissed her cheek and began to get up from his knees. Lucy gasped as he jerked and cried out, a sudden jolt of pain coursing through him.

“Doug?” She called his name as she watched his features twist in agony. He faltered; fell to his knees, still cradling Lucy tightly in his arms.

“Lucy,” he breathed, coughed, spraying blood in her face. They fell.

“No! Doug!” Lucy screamed, and then she saw her, saw the metal ax in her hands, dripping with the blood of the man she loved. “Helen!” Lucy cried shock, pain and rage filling her. Blood pumped from the hole in Doug’s back. “No! No!” Lucy cried, Doug still laying on her. She wrapped her arms around him as Helen raised the ax again.

“Let the sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more. Bless thou the LORD, O my soul. Praise ye the LORD.” Helen sang as she watched Lucy pulled Doug closer.

Lucy closed her eyes. At least we’ll die together. God, keep my children.

A shot rang in the air. Lucy’s eyes jumped open just soon enough to see the bullet pierce the back of Helen skull and rip a hole in its front. With a shudder Helen fell lifelessly to the floor. Lucy’s wide eyes found Benedict’s shaking hands wrapped around the hilt of Donald’s Colt revolver. Quivering, he dropped it to the floor and ran to Lucy.

“Ruby May!” Benedict cried. “We have to go! We have to go love!” Benedict grabbed Lucy’s arm and pulled.

“No!” Lucy cried.

“Leave the damn grocery boy! The building is falling down! We have to go!”

“No, I can’t leave him!”

“David doesn’t deserve you! Don’t die for him, please Ruby!” Benedict screamed as the building shook, the floor heaved.

Lucy struggled to pull Doug toward the stairwell.

“God damn it!” Benedict cursed then bent and put his arms under Doug. Doug groaned weekly as Benedict adjusted under the weight. Lucy thought Benedict would break, but somehow he moved forward, toward the door.

Wood groaned against wood and metal against metal as the hospital was pulled every direction. As windows shattered, ceilings fell in, the foundation cracked, Lucy, Benedict with Doug dyeing in his arms ran down the steps. Lucy felt a sudden and strong sucking and screamed as the roof above their head was ripped away and the walls began to fall in.

“No!” she screamed as timber and cement fell toward Benedict. He fell. Doug cried out at he was thrown forward and landed hard. Both of Benedict legs were crushed when the beam landed, shards of bone cutting him a thousand times. When the second beam land on his chest he rejoiced in the knowing he would not have to suffer the pain in his bottom half much longer.

“Ruby May!” he cried and reached for Lucy. “Ruby May!”

“Yes,” Lucy answered tears pouring from her eyes knowing there was no help for him.

“Forgive me my love.”

“You’re forgiven Benedict.” Lucy wept. “You’re forgiven, I love you!”

Benedict smiled as his heart stopped and his grip on Lucy failed.

 Lucy turned to Doug. “Hold on baby,” she whispered as she began to beat on the cellar door. “Help! Let us in!”

The door opened and they hurriedly gathered them inside.

“Doug! Doug!” Lucy sobbed taking him into her arms. “Help him!”

Nurses and doctors hovered around them. He coughed, spurting blood. “Lucy, Lucy!”

“I’m here,” she cried he reached for her face.

“Promise me,” he coughed, cried out in pain.

“Anything Doug,” Lucy wailed, “just don’t leave me. Don’t leave me! I love you! God damn it, Doug, I love you!”

“Live, promise me you’ll live. Promise me you truly live!” His hands shook, his body failing, he struggled to hold on.

“We’ll live together! Don’t leave me.”

“Lucy, I love you more than I ever dreamed I could love anyone. Now promise, for me, for our love, promise!”

Lucy’s heart burned, twisted, wanted to die. “I promise.” Tears gushed from her eyes falling on his lovely bloody face. “I promise and I love you. I will always love you.”

He smiled, “forever I will love you.” His eyes closed and his hand fell from Lucy’s face.

***

Three months later.

Red, white and blue covered the long picnic table and hung in bunches along the front porch. Chicken wings, cole slaw, potatoes salad, chips, hotdogs, root beer, lemonade and a large cake decorated with strawberries, blueberries and vanilla icing excited and enticed the many people filling Lucy’s back yard.  

Bobby ran, laughter bubbling out, as he chased Sandra with a sparkler. “Bobby,” Lucy called with a smile. “Leave your sister alone!” then went back to her conversation with Susan and her new boyfriend. “So you and your crew are still very busy?”

“Yes, and I have jobs booked for months. It’s been three months since the tornado and already my crew, and I have fixed or replaced fifteen roofs.”

“ I am so thankful mine was one of them, and that you didn’t have to replace my whole house like so many others.”

“Me too,” Susan agreed, stars in her eyes.

“My crew has also been helping with the cleanup down at the Hospital. You worked there right?” John asked.

“Yes,” Lucy answered with a smile, but felt a twist in her heart. It was like a punch in the gut to think of him.

“Do you plan to work at the new hospital their putting up over on the North side of town?”

“No, I don’t think so. Um, excuse me,” Lucy said and hurried away from the table. Leaning over her sink, Lucy fought the tears. “God, it just isn’t fair!” She took a deep breath. “I promised, I promised,” she remembered as she watched the people in her back yard.

“Are you all right?” Susan asked laying her hand on her sisters back.

“I promised him I’d live, so I will.” Lucy said and wiped away the tears.

“Good,” Susan said and pulled Lucy back outside, “look there playing horseshoes, let’s go!”

“I’m terrible at this game.”

“Oh come on Lucy you just throw the thing.” Susan said as they approached the group. “Lucy wants to play!”

“Not really,” Lucy said but took the horseshoe that was offered. She went to throw, but stopped suddenly at the sounds of Violet screaming. “Violet!” Lucy called and began to run toward the house. Lucy gasped, swallowed hard, and halted. She struggled to keep from fainting as the blood drained from her head.

Her three children, screaming and jumping, dragged their father out the back door and to the edge of the porch. “Momma look! I told you! Daddy’s home!” Violet hung on his side, his arm tightly around her.

Unnoticed tears poured from Lucy’s eyes. “Robert,” she whispered afraid she would wake to find she was suffering another nightmare.

“Lucy,” his thin handsome face shone brightly as he spoke her name. “My Lucy.” The children helped him as he limped down the steps.

Still frozen and weeping, Lucy breathed his name again. “Robert, Robert your alive!”

Leaving the children at the bottom step, he moved to her, and gathered her into his arms. “Oh, god, I’m home! I can’t believe it! I thought I would die in that vile German prison camp, but no! I hold my love in my arms!” He laughed and she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her lips on his. They laughed and cried though what the children thought was the longest kiss in the history of the world.

“Robert,” she sang, “Robert, God, I love you. Never leave me again!”

Violet, Sandra and Bobby wrapped themselves around their parent legs, and they all, for the first time in years felt whole.

Heart Eaters – Part Nine – Violet

Posted in Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Nightmare with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 16, 2010 by cjirwin

 

(Please note: This Post contains adult content and graphic violence that some may find offensive or inappropriate.)

Heart Eaters

Part Nine

Violet

 

Violets shoe tapped loudly against the living rooms hard wood floor. Arms crossed tightly against her chest, she cleared her throat with a grunt, and heaved a sigh when her mother didn’t wake but snuggled closer into Doug’s arms. “Mm, um,” she grunted. Lucy’s eyes fluttered. “Mother!” Violet finally burst.

Lucy’s eyes opened, blinked. Her head jerked toward her daughter’s cross face and rigid form at the end of the couch, then back to the serine, sleeping man with his arms around her. “Oh, crap!” Cursing, she swung into a sitting position, jolting Doug from peaceful slumber.

“What?” he blurted. “Oh,” he said, seeing Lucy’s ten-year-old daughter.

“What is going on Mother?”

“It’s not what it looks like.” Lucy reasoned.

“I’m not stupid momma!” Violet stated then turned on her heals and marched toward the kitchen.

“Oh, god Lucy I’m sorry. I fell asleep; I hadn’t intended to stay.” Doug pleaded. Lucy heaved a sigh, but couldn’t keep from smiling at him, her body rested and still covered in his warmth. Returning the smile, his words caressed. “You just felt so marvelous in my arms. It seems that they were fashioned to hold you.”

“You don’t have to apologize; I fell asleep too.” She let her head fall back. “Oh god, I haven’t slept like that in over a year.” His smile was brilliant, full of hope. Her eyes feasted on him, and her heart devoured the wondrous idea that she wanted to just look at him. Long, muscled, arms moved under his wrinkled shirt, his bright green eyes simmered with what she knew was desire making her stomach flutter, his dark, tousled hair fell across his eye and without thinking she reached to caress it away. The tenderness of the simple act surprised her, and touched him more then she could have known. “Don’t you work today?”

“Oh, shit!” Doug blurted looking down at his watch. “I’m late. I have to go.” He said leaning to kiss Lucy then jumped up.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” Lucy said smiling at his urgent expression. “It’s really hard on you to be late isn’t it?”

“I hate it!” He said with a chuckle as they walked to the door. “So you’ll let me take you out, right?  Please,” he begged after a moment.

Lucy had to look away from the intensity of his gaze. “Doug, I don’t-”

“Lucy,” he interrupted his hand on the doorknob. “Give me a chance. Please.”

Lucy looked toward Violets room and back to his stunning face. One step at a time, she thought. “Ok.”

“How about Friday night?”

“Um, I can’t.” Lucy said and hurried on at the tortured look on his face. “I’m driving to Lincoln tomorrow with Susan to help her pack everything up. The moving company said they would load her things on Friday and Saturday and drive down on Monday. But, I would love to after Monday.”

“Ok, Tuesday? Well, I guess I’ll see you on Monday, but will you let me take you out on Tuesday?”

“That would be swell.” 

Doug kissed the smile on her lips.

How can this be happening? Lucy wondered as she closed the door.

“Was that Doug leaving?” Susan asked as she walked from the kitchen.

“Maybe.”

“Holy Horesfeathers Lucy!” Susan crowed. “Was it amazing?” She asked more quietly smiling from ear to ear.

Lucy simply shook her head and chuckled.

“Because, he looks amazing,” Susan went on, “and usually men that look like that know how to make a woman feel all hotsy-totsy.”

“We didn’t, he didn’t.”

Susan huffed.

“Really,” Lucy assured as they walked back into the kitchen. “We fell asleep together on the couch.”

“Awe, he slept with you before he actually removed your nickers. That’s so romantic.

“It is all, ‘knight in shining armor’ of him isn’t it.” Lucy said, the words skipping from her mouth.

“Good that you woke up before the kids.” Susan laughed.

“Violet woke us.”

“Oh,” Susan replied her pretty features squishing together.

“Yeah, I guess I should go talk to her.”

“Finish your coffee, give her a few minutes.”

Lucy worried over what to say to Violet while she sipped her coffee, and drank every drop before she pushed herself up the stairs. Knocking several times before she finally heard a very resigned admittance, Lucy opened her daughter’s door.

“Can we talk?” Lucy asked.

Violet heaved a sigh and set Little Women on her bed-side-stand. “What?”

“Now, I know your upset with me but that’s no reason to be rude.” Lucy corrected.

“Sorry,” Violet said, eyes on her floral comforter.

How do I do this? Lucy wondered. My girl is so grown up. How did I miss it? Lucy sat on the edge of her bed. “We didn’t have sex.”

Surprised at her Lucy’s bluntness, Violet’s eyes jerked to her mother’s face. She said nothing.

So Lucy went on. “We fell asleep together. He was kind and comforted me when I needed a friend.”

“He wasn’t holding you as a friend would.”

“Ok, I can see that your old enough to recognized the way a man would hold a women when he is after more than just friendship, but that’s all we are for right now. Though, I do think I may want more than friendship at some point in the future.” Wow, Lucy thought. I said it, and I do.

 

“But mom you can’t,” Violet pleaded the child reappearing. “What about Daddy? I don’t want you to break his heart!”

Lucy flinched. Deep gashes. “Honey,” Lucy swallowed hard. “Daddy is not coming back.” Oh my god! Lucy cringed inside. I said and believe that too!

 

“Yes he is momma! Don’t say that! Take it back!” Violet screamed.

Tears slipping from her eyes, Lucy forced  out what she did not want to say, but what her girl needed to hear. What Lucy knew she needed to hear. “He is dead baby. I’m so sorry. He is gone.”

“No, no,” Violet struggled as Lucy pulled her into her arms. Violet cried, aching, stinging tears.

***

“She’s hardly spoken to me since Thursday.” Lucy told Susan as they walked out of her house in Lincoln Nebraska each carrying a card-board-box labeled KITCHEN.

“Just give it time,” Susan soothed as they loaded the boxes in the large, white moving truck. “I can’t believe we got all this packed and loaded already.” Susan smiled.  “Me and all my stuff will be home by noon tomorrow!”

“I’m so happy!”

“Me too, now let’s go have dinner and get some sleep so we can leave with the moving truck at seven o’ clock.”

***

Doug waited. He had taken the entire day off in hopes he would have the house ready before they arrived. “Ok, the gas is on, the water is on, electric is on, house is clean, papers are ready to be signed,” Doug went through his list. “All done and it’s only eleven. They probably won’t be here until noon, or maybe one.” What do I do now?

 

***

“We’re home! We’re home!” The children cried from the back seat as they pulled up the little blue house on Oak Street.

The moving truck was already backed in and the movers unloading.

“Oh, the movers are taking stuff in. Doug must be here.” Susan said, relieved the movers hadn’t had to wait the extra hour it had taken her and Lucy to get their five children and their very small bladders home.

Doug had the movers stacking boxes in the dining room and carrying in furniture; while he placed the boxes in their respective rooms when Lucy and Susan walked in.

“Doug,” Lucy called. He set down his box and ran to meet her at the entrance eager to taste her lips, but thought better of it when Violet walked scowling through the door. “You’re so sweet! You’ve almost got everything unloaded!”

“Doug you’re a miracle worker!” Susan sang and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

“You’re so welcome,” Doug said with a chuckle.

Lucy sniffed the air. “Wow! It smells amazing in here. Are you cooking Doug?”

“And if I am?” He asked with a teasing smile.

“Then Lucy will be your love slave for the rest of eternity!” Susan burst.

“In that case, yes, I am cooking, baked chicken, rice, steamed veggies, oh and of course, wine.”

“Oh my,” Susan and Lucy cried together.

“So, am I awarded major points for this?” Doug asked looking directly at Lucy.

“Maybe,” Lucy said with a smile.

“Well, if it will help convince you, I also turned on the gas, the water, the electric, signed up for garbage removal and have the bill of sale for the house ready to sign.”

Susan’s jaw dropped.

“Ok, I am definitely considering that whole love slave thing now.” Lucy said shaking her head.

“Yes!” Doug replied. “Can we just start with a welcome home kiss?”

Susan stepped up and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek. “I know you weren’t talking to me, but I just had to do that. Thank you, really.” The kids flew by. “Now, you two should go out and see if there is anything the movers need your help with so Lucy can give you a proper kiss.”

Doug slipped his hand in Lucy’s as they walked out the door. She jerked a little then relaxed. “Is this ok?” He asked lifting their entwined fingers and kissing her knuckles.

“Yes, I guess, I’m just worried the kids will see. It’s too soon for them.” He let go. “No, I didn’t mean for you to feel like I don’t want you to. I just.”

“It’s fine, really.” The look on his face was so understanding that Lucy wanted to kick herself for making an issue of it. “I don’t want to hurt them.”

“I know. God, Doug you’re wonderful. I’m so sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

“Don’t,” he said pulling her in front of the parked truck and into his arms. “May I kiss you now?” He asked his breath hot against her skin.

She couldn’t breathe, or think, so she simply nodded. Desire pressed against craving and want against need as their lips melded. They took and gave, willing and waiting. Heart pounding and chest heaving, Lucy felt his grip loosen and watched him swallow hard, digging deep for control.

He let his forehead fall against hers. “It frightens me a little that I want and need you so severely.” He whispered.

“I understand, and a dollop of guilt to top it all off.” Lucy replied.

“Mother!” Violet called from the front step.

“Oh, damn, that’s Violet. I need to go in.” Lucy said and hurried up into the truck to grab a small end table. Doug followed.

The children ran into the house, up the stairs, down the stairs, out the back, in the front, ecstatic to be out of the car and home. Violet made a point of putting herself between her mother and Doug as they worked to unpack and set up Susan’s home. Doug grunted as he moved couches, tables, wardrobes and everything else, but never complained.

“So,” Violet began as they unpacked kitchen ware. “Do you have a girlfriend Doug?”

Doug smiled and looked at Lucy. “Nope.”

“Have you ever been married?” She inquired.

“Nope” he answered.

“How old are you?” Violet asked, and Lucy shook her head.

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“Did you know that my mother is thirty-one?” Violet asked surprised to find he was younger than her.

“Yes, I do.”

“Ok, Violet.” Lucy warned.

“What, just trying to get to know your friend.”

“Wow,” Susan said. “Mm, seven-thirty, didn’t realize it had gotten so late. Violet, why don’t you help me get the little ones to bed.”

“Fine,” Violet answered and gathered Bobby into her hands and stomped away.

“I’m sorry Doug.” Lucy apologized.

“It’s really ok. I understand.”

Lucy went to follow Violet. “Lucy,” Susan said reaching for her sister. “Let me talk to her.”

Looking toward the stairs, Lucy nodded her head.

“Violet?” Susan called after they had all the children tucked into two beds. Susan pushed the door to the empty bedroom open to find Violet staring out the window. Across the room she moved and set her hand on Violets shoulder. “I know it has been a very difficult year and a half for you,” Susan began softly. “But do you know who it has been more difficult for?”

Violet breathed deeply, “my mother.”

“Yes, and don’t you want to see her happy?”

“I guess it is nice to not have to worry that I’ll wake and find that she has killed herself!” Violet burst.

“Oh sweetie,” Susan said and wrapped her arms around her. “Your mother loves you, and she loves your father but-” 

“I know,” Violet wiped her eyes. “I know. I do want momma to be happy. I just don’t want admit that he’s gone, and Doug being here, with mom, it makes it really hard to pretend Daddy’s still coming back.”

“I know sweetie. I’m so sorry.” Susan held her. “Promise me you’ll cut your momma some slack, ok?”

“Ok.”

***

Lucy sighed as the hot water careened down her naked body. Head back, eyes closed, she reveled in the pleasure of a relaxing shower.

“God, you’re so damn sexy!”

Lucy’s eyes jumped open. Doug, naked, wet, and simply glorious stood in front of her. Lucy just stared.

“What baby? You look at me as if you’ve never seen me before.” Doug said. “Mm, it makes me hard to see you so stunned when you see me naked. Like the first time.”

“What?” Lucy managed. It looks like Doug, but it doesn’t sound like him. Lucy thought. She glanced around, not recognizing anything. “No.”

The door squealed as he opened it, rust against metal.

“Oh shit!” Doug cried out and yanked the curtain back. “Robert!”

The metal poker glowed menacingly in Roberts hand, and his eyes burned more brightly.

“The god damn grocery boy!” Robert yelled.

“Clam down Robert!” Doug pleaded, standing naked in front of me.

Robert swung. Blood splattered across Lucy’s naked body.  Chest aching, she sucked but the air would not come. Gore spilled from Doug’s broken face covering the floor.

“Robert, please, I love you!” Lucy screamed as the metal bare plummeted toward her head. “No-.” The scream ended abruptly as Robert sunk the weapon into her brain.

Lucy woke screaming in Susan’s arms. “Lucy! Lucy! Honey, wake up!”

“Oh, god! Susan?” Lucy blinked, shook.

“Yeah sweetie, it’s me. It was just a dream.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Lucy cried sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Um, six-fifteen, are you all right?”

“Uh, just a bad dream.”

“Yeah, I got that. Do you want to take a hot shower or something?”

“No!”

“Ok, are you sure you’re fine?” Susan worried.

“Yes, I’m sorry. How about some coffee?” Lucy asked getting up, putting one of Susan’s robes on and walking out.

“Sure,” Susan said hurrying after.

Lucy related the dream as they sipped hazelnut flavored coffee. “Maybe, I shouldn’t go out with him.”

“No, no, Lucy you’re just scared to move on. You need to. You have to find a way to move on, and I know you’re carrying a torch for the sexy doctor boy.”

Despite herself Lucy smiled. “He is quite attractive isn’t he?”

“And super considerate, and thoughtful, and can cook, if you pass that up I’ll have to have you committed!”

Laughing, Lucy rose to grab the coffee pot and refill their mugs. “You’re right.”

“I know. Now what are you going to wear?”

***

Lucy donned the silky black dress Susan had suggested.  It cut close to her bust, wrapped tightly around her waist and hips and fell just below her knees, sexy but not vixen. Perfect, Lucy thought as she began to remove her curlers.

“Momma,” Violet called from the bathroom doorway. “I could help you fix your hair if you’d like.”

Lucy smiled. “I would love that honey.”

Violet removed the curlers from Lucy’s hair. Handing her bobby-pins, Violet watched as Lucy secured the curls where she wanted them.

“You look pretty momma.” Violet praised.

“Thank you sweet heart.”

“Wow, look at the gams on that broad!” Susan sang as Lucy walked down the stairs.

“My legs do look rather amazing.” Lucy replied. “Thank  you so much for sitting with the children.”

“Of course, you’ve been working your butt off for me. It’s the least I can do little sis.”

“He’s here.” Violet said from the window and walked toward the door. “Hey Doug,” she greeted.

“Hello Violet. How are you?”

“I’m ok. Um, I just wanted to say that I hope you and my mom have a good time.” Violet said making Lucy smile.

“I’m sure we will. Thank you Violet.” Doug said.

Lucy could see the change in his eyes when he looked up, and realized it was the first time he had ever seen her dressed up. “Wow, Lucy, you look stunning!”

“As do you,” Lucy replied looking over his wide-brimmed Fedora hat and grey patterned tie accenting his long dark suit-coat.

“Thank you, shall we go?” He asked reaching for her soft hand.

Doug couldn’t get enough of the sound of Lucy’s voice and laughter as they ate. He peppered her with questions about her likes and dislikes, her childhood, her favorite foods. “Ok, so let me get this straight,” Doug said cutting the steak on his plate. “You hate just about every food, and if the food you do like touches on you plate you won’t eat it.”

“Yes, that’s exactly right.” Lucy said with a smirk. “So, let me get this right,” she mocked with a grin, and giggled when Doug rose his eyebrow at her. “You’ll eat anything put in front of you, you believe in the ‘five second rule’ for food dropped on the floor, and you like your cow still mooing when you eat it.”

He laughed aloud. “Yes, precisely.”

They joked and teased laughing until their faces hurt.

“God,” Doug exclaimed and reached across the table taking Lucy’s hand in his. “You are so beautiful!”

Her face flushed. “I was afraid I wouldn’t ever laugh like this again. Doug, you have saved me from a hell I thought would take my life.” His hand tightened, and his heart beat a little faster as he watched the emotion swim in her deep brown eyes. “Take me home.” She whispered, and he thought his heart would stop.

Gently, he pulled her up from her seat. They didn’t speak a word as they left the restaurant and drove to his townhouse on Main Street. He cradled her hand until he had to unlock his front door.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered as he clicked on a lamp and watched her sit on the edge of his bed.

“A savior always deserves his prize,” she said trying to focus enough to control her breathing, not wanting to look like a school girl virgin.

“You’re shaking,” he took her hands in his, but laid his lips on hers before she could answer.

Hot, slow, the kiss sent her blood blazing through her veins to her center. From fingertip to shoulder, he caressed, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. The silk slid easily off her collar, and he kissed the soft skin it left bare. Sighing, she pushed at his suit coat letting it fall to the floor. He turned her, planting kisses along her neck and shoulders as she spun. His hot breath tickled her ear as the dress slid to the floor.

Inside Dougs embrace Lucy’s heart, so eaten with pain, began to beat with life again.

Heart Eaters – Part Five – Helen

Posted in Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Nightmare, Works in Progress with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2010 by cjirwin

(Please note: This post contains graphic violence that some may consider offensive.)

Heart Eaters

Chapter Three

Helen

The three days off that  Doug had insisted Lucy take had been misery. The only thing that kept Lucy sane was not having time to think. Too much time to wonder, to dream of Robert, and Lucy knew she would end up in a padded cell alongside the helpless souls she cared for. Violet, Sandra and Bobby were her life vest in the raging, stormy sea she was trying to survive. Extravagant meals in the evening with custard and fresh raisin bread pleased Lucy’s precious children, and helped her to busy herself while the children were in school. She doted on them, playing games, making treats, even taking them out to the local dinner one evening, she needed them so she wouldn’t remember. However, the prospect of not being alone in the house cleaning all day trying not to wonder where her love might be laying, pondering the many places his bones might be scattered was calming as she prepared to go the hospital.

White, like the color of early morning mist and soft as rose petals, Lucy wrapped the scarf around the dark purple marks on her neck. Parts of the bruise had started to turn the sickly yellow of healing, and she was thankful for it.

It was Monday, another week without him, Lucy thought as she gathered her things to care for her patients. For Christ’s sake Doug! Lucy thought as she went over her rounds for the day. Only one patient from the C.I. Wing, I can cover my own responsibilities! No reason to push my patients onto other nurses because I was careless.

 “Good morning Luce,” Doug called enthusiastically.

The cheerfulness in his voice irritated her as she spun to face him. “What right have you to change my schedule!”

“Whoa, whoa, Lucy, I was simply worried for you and I, as your supervisor, have every right to organize the nurses as I see fit.”

“Ok, I understand that I was careless, but that is no reason to make the other girls carry my weight!”

Sighing, Doug shook his head. “I was trying to help you. You know it might do you some good to let somebody behind that wall of yours from time to time. The other Nurses wanted to help anyway. They were all more than willing.”

“Great! So now I’m a charity case! I don’t need your help or anyone else’s! What I need it to be able to come to work and not be coddled.” Lucy put her hands on her temples and breathed deeply. Doug said nothing. You’re being ridiculous! Lucy thought to herself. He is, after all, only trying to help. As if to remind her of her need for help  the white scarf slid of her shoulder.“I’m sorry. I, mm,” Lucy grunted looking up at him. His forest green eyes were deep and troubled, not angry as she had expected. If Zeus could have been hurt that’s what he would have looked like, Lucy though examining his staggered, chiseled face and tense, muscled form. Along his jaw line, down his pristine white jacket that did nothing to hide his tone and robust shape, her thirsty eyes traveled. Jolting at the realization she wanted to see his eyes sparkle as they usually did when he greeted her, Lucy’s face hardened again. “I appreciate your concern but it’s not needed.” Lucy gathered her things and stormed past him.

“Lucy,” Doug entreated.

“I have work to do,” she called over her shoulder.

Doug cursed and walked into the break room. Running his hand though his dark hair, he shook his head wishing he could see that look of interest, of want on her gorgeous face again. It had only been a glimpse, but he knew he hadn’t imagined it.

Shame, anger, disloyalty bloomed and danced hideously inside her as Lucy hurried down the hall. It had been over a year since she had felt any stirring, any desire for anyone and it rubbed her insides raw that she had. Not knowing what had come over her, Lucy begged Robert for a forgiveness he could not give.

Needing to work, Lucy pushed her feelings to the back of her mind alongside so many others she could not, or would not deal with. The thought of Doug’s tortured eyes didn’t resurface until she made her way to her only C.I. patient.

Before Lucy had completely slide the small window open on cell one o’ seven, she heard the prayers, smelled the blood, it made her stomach turn. Sato masochism, that’s what she remembered reading about her patient, Helen Christenson and also reading something about a self-inflicted stigmata. That’s what Lucy expected to see when she entered. That was always the way with Helen, cutting or hitting her head with whatever she could find to inflict damage, biting her wrists, digging holes in her feet with her nails, breaking her skin and ribs by throwing herself against her bed to try to recreate Christ wounds. That was until they removed her bed to save her rib cage.

Blood crusted under Helen’s finger nails and flaked, falling dry and sour from her hands as she pressed them together in prayer. “Forgive me father for I have sinned. I have no confessor, and unable to stand before our Holy Mother and ask her forgiveness for my wickedness. Please preserve their souls, keep them from the fires of Hell. Forgive them their sinful deeds.”

Lucy couldn’t help the revulsion that rose like bile in her throat. She knew who Helen prayed for; she knew what sins she begged forgiveness for. “Focus on your job.” Lucy said to herself as she called out. “Helen, Helen, please come to the door.”

Helen did not answer, and her prayers did not cease. “Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death. Amen.”

“Helen, please come to the door,” Lucy reiterated calmly

“Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from Christ’s side, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesus, hear me. Within Thy wounds hide me. Suffer me not to be separated from Thee. From the malicious enemy defend me. In the hour of my death call me; And bid me come unto Thee, that I may praise Thee with Thy saints and with Thy angels. Forever and ever, Amen.”

Lucy huffed. “I hate having to do this,” she whispered then called through the hole. “Helen if you don’t do what is asked of you, we won’t allow you to see Father Cohan this month.”

Lucy cringed when Helen’s prayers came to an abrupt halt. Her hands, bruised and bloody thrust through the hole.

Lucy began methodically wiping the crusted blood from the floor and chaffed inside as Helen began to pray. It was like, Lucy thought, a pair of dirty hands desecrating a holy relic.

From the day Helen had been admitted and Lucy had read the police reports given to the hospital a war had ragged inside her; pity for a young girl who would never lead a normal life and revulsion for someone who could do something so horrific in the name of God. The simplicity of her chore allowed her mind to wander back, imagining how it must have happened based on the information from the reports she had read.

*****

November 21, 1944

The gasoline vapors burned Helen’s nose as it gurgled out of the red, spouted, metal can, and sloshed on her conservative, black shoes as it dripped of the plush, floral, king size bedspread. Satisfied that the bed was thoroughly soaked, Helen set the nearly empty can on the carpet. She prayed under her breath as she reached up to assure herself that the steel cables were tight around their wrists and ankles and secured to the wrought iron bedpost.

“Dear God save their evil souls,” Helen prayed as they breathed heavily in their drug induced slumber. “Holy Father save their souls from Hells damnation. Dear Jesus forgive them for their wicked acts knowing that after this night they will sin no more.”

Over and over she prayed the simple prayer as she sat in the rocking chair next to the bed. She prayed as she waited. It shouldn’t be too long now, she reasoned. I gave them the pills six hours ago. They should wake soon so I can tell them I love them before I save their souls.

Helen turned at a moan from the bed.

“Helen, Helen, what is going on?”

“Relax Daddy,” Helen said softly. “Don’t struggle. I don’t want you to cut your wrists on the wire.”

“What the Hell is this,” Helen’s father said jerking against the bed. “Untie us now! Is that gas I smell? What in the Hell Helen!”

“Daddy you shouldn’t curse. It’s a sin. Don’t you see I’m saving your soul?” Her voice was deceptively calm.

“What are you going to do? What do you mean saving our souls! Honey, please untie your mother and I and we can talk.” His chest started to heave quickly.

“No daddy it’s too late. I saw what you did, with the Susan Flyn.” Helen said as she moved to the side of the bed.

“Helen, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her father said, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Dad, I may only be sixteen, but I know what adultery is! I listened as you coupled with her, made her squeal unholy things. Susan will go to Hell, but daddy, I’m going to save you.”

“Yes, yes, I have sinned.” He blurted. “I repent. Please honey it was my sin not your mothers. Release her.”

“You don’t know do you?” Lucy waited, he did not answer. “Daniel Weber, you know you’re very best friend, has been bedding your wife longer than you’ve been bedding Susan.” Lucy smiled at the shock and pain on her father’s face. “How ridiculous!” Helen laughed. “You judge mother even when you’ve been doing the same thing.”

Dumbstruck he turned toward his wife, now awake, “Is it true?”

Not seeing any reason at that point to deny it she simply nodded as tears began to tumble from her eyes.

“I have been worried that you and mom had been drinking too much so I was watching you. I had been reporting back to Father Dexter.” Lucy said.

“What! The church had you spying on us!” Her father raged.

“It’s a good thing they did. Now you won’t go to Hell. Ask God for forgiveness before I say goodbye.”

“No, Helen, don’t do this. Baby, we love you please this is ridiculous! Let us go!” He begged as her mother blubbered.

“Repent daddy, repent!”

“Honey,” Helen’s mother mewed. “Please!”

“Helen, stop this!” He commanded.

“Repent mom, repent for your unholy acts. Repent before I save you from eternal damnation.”

Helen pulled a small, brown matchbox from her pocket.

“Oh God!” Her mother cried. “What are you doing? Please honey, we love you don’t do this.”

“Helen! No! Please!” Her father cried.

“Repent Daddy, repent!” Helen commanded.

“I repent! It won’t happen again! Please, please!”

“Repent mom, repent for letting that man inside you!” Helen almost begged.

“I repent baby. I repent.” She cried struggling against her bindings.

“Helen stop!” Her Father cried, his wrists bleeding against the wires. “No, no, please. We have loved you!” He screamed as she drew the match across the side of the box and it flamed to life.

“I love you to daddy,” she said as she threw the match.

The bed became an inferno.

“Helen!” Her parents screamed in unison as they were engulfed in fire. “Please! Helen! Please! No!”

She prayed as she watched them burn.