"Take that dreadful thing off."
Phaedra nodded and tossed the blonde wig to the foot of the bed.
The Contessa stroked Phaedra's close-cropped, mousy hair as she would the fur of a cat.
"That's better," she said. "You must be tired after all that. Come child, rest your head."
With a grateful sigh, Phaedra pillowed her cheek against the smooth curve of her mistress's right stump. The Contessa's hands, no longer twisted by arthritis, continued to play with her hair.
"Contessa—?" Phaedra's voice was high and sweet, like that of a little girl.
"Yes, my sweet?"
"Tell me a story."
"Very well, my dear. Which story would you like to hear? How about the one about the Secret Princess?"
"No. The other one."
The Contessa smiled and nodded her understanding. "Ah, yes.
That
one. Very well. As you wish, my pet. Now, how does that one begin...?"
'Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a beautiful young girl named Elizabeth'..."
Phaedra prompted.
"Of course!" the Contessa chuckled. "Now I remember! Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a beautiful young girl named Elizabeth, who lived in a land far, far away. This far away land was very beautiful, and because it was so beautiful, everyone wanted to own it. So there was constant war for control of the land. Life was very hard for the peasants and commoners who lived in the battle-torn land, as there was little money and rarely enough food.
"But since Elizabeth's family was very rich and very powerful, none of this concerned her, for she always had plenty of food to eat and nice clothes to wear and servants to wait on her, hand and foot, day in and day out, from the moment she was born until the day she died. Elizabeth was a very pretty little girl, and everyone adored her because she was so beautiful. As she grew to womanhood, she quickly learned that because one cousin was the Prime Minister, another was the ruler of an allied kingdom, and her great-uncle was a cardinal in the Church, there was nothing she could do that would not be overlooked or forgiven.
"When Elizabeth was but fifteen years old, her family married her to the Black Count, who was eleven years her senior. The Black Count was not as politically important, but he had a great deal of money and possessed considerable property, so the marriage was deemed a good one in the eyes of her family. So Elizabeth was sent away, against her wishes, to live in her new husband's castle, which was in the farthest reaches of the land.
"Things did not go well from the very start. Although the Black Count was not unhandsome, he was always going off to some battle or another, leaving his young bride alone with only his mother and castle retainers for company.
"The wicked mother-in-law was a horrible woman, with a shrewish tongue and a narrow mind. All the wicked mother-in-law did day in and day out was pray to God and berate poor Elizabeth for not being perfect. There was nothing Elizabeth could do that the wicked mother-in-law approved of. If Elizabeth had the servants put more logs on the fire,
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) the wicked mother-in-law accused her of being a spendthrift; if Elizabeth did not order the servants to light a fire, the wicked mother-in-law accused her of stinginess. But what the wicked mother-in-law complained the most about was how Elizabeth had failed to produce an heir.
"The wicked mother-in-law was most eager to have the marriage annulled, so that the Black Count might take a more 'suitable' wife, one who would give him children—and plenty of them. It did not matter that her son was rarely home long enough to change his clothes, much less impregnate his wife. The fault, it was clear, lay with Elizabeth.
"As much as she resented being married to the Black Count, Elizabeth knew that to be sent back to her family as a failed wife would be her undoing. Determined to secure her place as lady of the castle, Elizabeth began to scheme on how to beget a child. When the folk remedies and old wives tales proved useless, she took as lovers men similar in build and appearance to the Black Count, so that any child sired by such a union could be easily mistaken as her husband's. But nothing came of those liaisons, as well.
"Despairing, she begged her old nurse to help her. The loyal servant introduced her mistress to a witch, who claimed she could use her dark arts to place a child within Elizabeth's womb. So, during the dark of the moon, the witch smuggled Elizabeth out of the castle and into the surrounding forest, to a magic grove used by her kind since the days of Rome.
"The witch had Elizabeth strip naked and anoint her body with an unguent made from the fat of unbaptised babies. Then she poured the blood of a black goat upon the ground and called upon her master.
" 'With this blood I summon thee, He Who Makes Shadows. With my will I bring thee forth, He Who Makes War. With these words I beseech thee, He Who Makes Dreams.
Come forth from your world into this!'
"A cold wind blew down from the mountain tops and the shadows in the darkness shaped themselves into the semblance of a tall, dark man with the legs of a goat, eyes of flame, and six fingers on each hand.
" 'Who calls me forth upon this plane?' asked the dark man, his voice echoing like thunder through the mountains. 'Who would summon He Who Makes?'
"The witch bowed before her master and said: 'I call you forth, master, in the name of this woman.'
"He Who Makes looked upon Elizabeth, who stood before him, naked and shivering.
" 'Daughter of Eve,' said he. 'What would thou have me Make for thee this night?'
"The very sound of the demon lord's voice was enough to make Elizabeth's breath freeze in her mouth. But although she was frightened by the thing that stood before her, she was even more fearful of being sent back to her people in disgrace.
" 'I would make a child, lord.'
"He Who Makes looked at Elizabeth's naked belly as if it was glass and shook his head.
'No seed sown by a human husband can ever take root in such rocky soil as yours, little sister.'
'Then I have no choice but to take an inhuman husband, lord,' she replied.
"The flames within the demon lord's eyes leapt like burning bonfires as Elizabeth knelt before him. With a fearsome roar, he took her under the moon-less sky like a beast of the field, his member hard as horn and cold as ice, and never once growing warm within her.
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) Elizabeth cried out as her demon lover loosed his seed, which burned like that of oil of peppermint poured upon an open wound. Finished with her, the dark man returned to the shadows from which he had emerged; leaving Elizabeth collapsed upon the ground, clutching her belly as if she had been stabbed in the vitals.
"The witch quickly redressed her mistress and hurried her back to the castle before any of the courtiers noticed she was gone. For several days Elizabeth lay abed, wracked by fever, tended by none but her loyal nurse. When she awoke from her delirium, she could feel the seed He Who Makes had planted within her womb.
"That night she crept into her husband's bedchamber and made herself available to him.
But as the Black Count placed his member inside her, he cried out in alarm, for she was cold as ice. It was then Elizabeth realized that He Who Makes had placed his mark upon her, assuring that no mortal man would ever again know her as Adam had known Eve. In her own way, she was bound to her demon lover in unholy chastity as surely as the Brides of Christ are wed to their resurrected lord.
"Despite this change to their marriage bed, if the Black Count suspected the child she claimed he had placed within her belonged to any but himself, he showed no sign. The impending arrival of an heir appeased, somewhat, the wicked mother-in-law, and her scoldings grew less frequent, although they did not stop, for there was still plenty of other things for her to find fault with in her son's wife.
"As time passed, Elizabeth's belly grew, and she took to lying in, attended by her loyal nurse, the witch, and her major domo. Then, seven months into her maternity, she fell into heavy labor, her body struggling to bring forth the thing within her.
"What emerged from Elizabeth's womb resembled something dragged from the bowels of the sea, for it was without bones or limbs, its skin the color and consistency of fresh pitch, broken only by patches of hair, a lipless mouth ringed with tiny, razor-like teeth, and a single red eye. The witch screeched and wailed and called it a name unspoken in a thousand years. Then, as the nurse and the major domo whispered amongst themselves as to whether or not to slay the wretched thing as it lay shivering on the counterpane, it gave a solitary cry and surrendered its breath.
"Elizabeth gnashed her teeth and cursed herself for not having been more specific when she bargained with the demon. She had asked for a child, but did not say she wanted a human one or that it should be born alive and healthy. She was ruined for childbirth, her womb having been rendered as icy as a tombstone in the dead of winter.
"The thing that she delivered forth was not given a name, nor was it buried in holy ground.
Instead, the witch placed it in a bag and left with it hidden under her cloak, no doubt with intentions of rendering it for its unbaptised fat. To allay suspicions, Elizabeth's loyal nurse bought the corpse of a new born from a midwife who specialized in the disposal of unwanted children, and presented it to the Black Count as his stillborn son and heir.
"The Black Count, who was more interested in warfare than posterity, seemed slightly grieved by the loss, while the wicked mother-in-law was visibly relieved she no longer had to be civil to Elizabeth. However, with the entombment of the infant impostor in the family vault, the subject of annulment was no longer whispered in the castle hallways.
"As the wicked mother-in-law grew older and more and more feeble, Elizabeth's power within the castle strengthened. The years passed and became decades, and the wicked mother-in-law's sharp tongue became blunted, for fear of Elizabeth and her allies within
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) the court. As the old woman's reign as the lady of the castle neared its end, she kept more and more to her chambers, until she was little more than a memory. Then, one day, a courier came bearing news of the Black Count's death on the field of battle.
"Upon her husband's passing, Elizabeth assumed the title and power of Countess and lost no time in banishing the wicked mother-in-law to a small hunting lodge atop a distant mountain; there the elderly woman was forced to chop her own firewood, draw her own water, and subsist on nothing but black bread and stone soup. Needless to say, the wicked mother-in-law quickly joined her son in the grave.
"For the first time in her life, Elizabeth was free from her husband and the control his family had exerted over her. She was the most powerful and wealthy woman in the land.
None could compare to her when it came to her riches, station and comeliness.
"But of these three attributes, it was her beauty that Elizabeth treasured most. Although she had long since lost interest in the love of men, Elizabeth was proud of her physical appearance. It pleased her that men would be moved by the sight of her to unthinking lust.
For, as she had long ago learned, men possessed by lust have their uses in the political arena.
"Since she no longer enjoyed the embrace of men, she developed a taste for the pleasure of others, and orchestrated orgies for her amusement. As the years passed, the orgies became more and more extreme in nature, involving erotic circuses complete with acrobats, trained animal acts, and a freak show. Black Sabbaths were held within the castle's chapel, where highborn guests ritually desecrated the altar and baptismal font in honor of He Who Makes.
"There were whispers of the goings on up at the castle amongst the villagers, but the rumors rarely made it to the royal court. And even if they did, what did it matter? The Countess was a blood cousin of the vice chamberlain. Who would dare lift a hand against her? Any outraged guest or disgruntled servant who threatened to expose her was quickly disposed of by her manservant, their corpses harvested for those parts useful in the casting of spells by the witch, then sealed behind the castle's walls.
"And so it went for several years. But as roses fade and silver tarnishes, as the sun will, one day, lose it fire, Elizabeth's great beauty finally began to dim. She was in her fourth decade and lines had etched themselves into the corners of her mouth and the folds of her eyes. Her breasts were no longer firm like apples, but more like ripened plums. Her buttocks and belly were starting to sag, victims of gravity's toll. Silver threads were now woven throughout her dark hair, and her hands resembled more the claws of crows than the wings of doves.
"For a woman such as Elizabeth, the effects of aging were no more to be suffered than the stare of an insolent peasant. She became as determined to restore her rapidly disintegrating beauty and youth, no matter what the cost. She instructed the witch to find a rejuvenation spell or she would put her to death.
"The witch pored through her collection of spells and incantations, until she came upon a ritual described within the pages of an ancient tome known as
The Aegrisomnia.
The spell promised the restoration of youth and vigor and, eventually, the gift of immortality, but only by bathing in the freshly shed blood of young virgins. Elizabeth decided that if Cleopatra became one of the great beauties of the civilized world with the help of asses'
milk, then she would have her bath of blood.
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)
"The major domo, in collaboration with the witch, butchered one of the servant girls and bled her into a large cauldron, in which Elizabeth steeped herself. From that day on, the ravages of age held no sway over her.