Authors: Gemma Liviero
The other day she asked me the strangest
question as we were coming back from chapel prayer.
‘Gertrude, do you think that we are meant to
always stay the same. Do you think that God frowns on change?’
I replied that God loves all creatures and does
not judge us on our change if it is to better others.
‘But what about ourselves?
Should we not change ourselves to
be happy?’
‘Yes, of course, but our vows are not about
personal ambition, rather our happiness in our commitment to our Christian
values and God’s will.’
She frowned at this and I knew that something
was happening outside any control. Perhaps even a minor disturbance of the
mind. When she first came here as a young girl I could tell she had experienced
some previous mistreatment. She arrived with her
mother,
an unloving person who seemed grateful to be rid of her, if I can be so blunt,
for it is rare for me to judge. Her personality was not unlike what I was
seeing now and I wondered if whatever damage had befallen her had returned to
play havoc with her commitment and solace.
‘Are you happy Annie?’ I asked her in private.
She paused before she answered. ‘I am happy
when I am doing something good for someone else.’ Then she seemed to make up
her mind about something. As I said, her behaviour had been erratic and
flighty. It was difficult to know where one stood with her at any time. ‘Yes,
you are absolutely right. If you are making others happy then change is a good
thing.’ She kissed me. ‘Thank you Gertrude, for everything.’
Whatever I had said she had wielded the answer
to suit herself. I then reminded her that two young siblings had been admitted
and could she see them. Unfortunately, because part of our monastery has been
given to the doctor who now resides here, we offer only temporary emergency shelter
to children who have met with misfortune. Only those ill enough will spend
longer here while these others will be given something to eat and then sent on
their way.
‘Of course.’ She bounded eagerly from the room
to wash, dress and feed the children. She sang to them and when I checked on
the children later they were in high spirits and clearly smitten by her as was
everyone.
I still wonder
if it was right in sending Lilah away. She had been a stable influence on
Arianne. I sometimes have to pray for my own soul.
Lilah,
kind and good, yet carrying something so bad within her.
That is what
was said to me by others in our order, yet perhaps we were all wrong. Perhaps
it
was
God’s work that she performed. Apart from myself, only Arianne
knows the reason for Lilah’s abandonment and I cannot help feel that by
breaking their union I have unleashed such sadness in Arianne, which has
altered her.
Chapter 9
Lilah
The days after I arrived at the
castle were uneventful, yet my senses warned me that this was only temporary. I
spent much of the time in my room with my own company, listening to the wind
from the north whistling through the tiniest of window gaps and whooshing down
hallways the moment it could push through an open doorway.
Between long spells of solitude, tending my own
dress and having meals brought to my room by a servant, Gabriel would visit
briefly to check on me. He seemed excited at these moments, the blue of his
eyes magnified in the grey light, and I hoped his happiness had much to do
about me.
On the fourth day, just as I was starting to
wonder if I would ever leave my room, he took me on a tour of the castle rooms.
He warned not to venture outside the east wing I was designated – such
entry to the west wing restricted from the strigoi – unless accompanied
by either Lewis or himself, and until the other strigoi were used to my
presence. Part of the west wing was occupied exclusively by the strigoi, and
though it was against code to harm me, he stated clearly that there had been,
at one time or another, one rotten apple in the bag, especially among Lewis’s
reborn experiments. I would learn more about those later. I did not question
his warning. What I had seen in the short years of my life told me to expect
the unexpected and take nothing for granted.
Despite the castle’s extravagance with
paintings on the ceilings and gilded skirting, it did not emit feelings of
warmth. The hallways were drafty and heating seemed scarce except near the galley
and Lewis’s library where a fire was always burning; a fact made more curious
when I later learned that the strigoi did not feel the cold at all. I believe
that such heating in his private room had been for my benefit alone.
The many sleeping chambers were luxuriously
decorated with heavy curtains and thickly woven rugs, and each piece of
furniture was intricately carved with flowers and animals and unusual oriental
patterns, imported from countries across the lands. On the ceilings of most
rooms were pictures of beasts and fire. It was not something I thought
appropriate for sleeping and likely a cause for bad dreams. Most of the rooms
had their curtains closed and passing open doorways gave me chills as if these
creatures might pounce from their plaster and into existence.
Each room had tall windows with a view of the
surrounding forest. The castle was built like a fortress but not on a
mountain top
like some. This one was built on lower ground,
disguised by a thick circumference of trees, hoping to remain unseen.
‘Are they all strigoi who reside here, or are
there others like me?’ I asked when we were outside in the garden. Gabriel
playfully brushed the flecks of snow from my hair.
‘Only the strigoi reside here at present.’
I thought it strange to be the only one. It did
not occur to me at the time to ask about the witches who had been here
previously. All I could think about were the faces of those mysterious
creatures in the paintings.
Gabriel took me to a paved courtyard at the
back of the house, surrounded by gardens and the scent of the violet moonflower
bushes with petals shaped like trumpets. Gabriel explained that many of the
herbs and flowers had special properties for treating ailments. They were not
only grown for their brilliance of colour and I was not to pick or touch any
for although they were the most beautiful of plants, they were also the most
deadly.
Sometimes, he said, the moonflower is
given to humans to calm them. Our eyes met at that moment and I did not seek to
learn the reasons why a human might want calming, although it could explain the
dullness in the eyes of some of the servants.
I
was curious but not surprised that such plants thrived in their glacial
surrounds, as this was no ordinary place, just as the inhabitants were no ordinary
beings.
We sat closely on a stone bench. I could not
return his penetrating gaze for long; his attentiveness confused
me and his beauty
too much to take for such a length of
time. When I turned away, he put his hand over mine and it felt colder than the
air.
‘Tomorrow Lewis will begin your teaching. Take
note, sweet Lilah, because it is better to learn more than you need, than go
through life ignorant of much.’
‘Does Lewis know everything?’ I asked.
Gabriel laughed. ‘Almost everything,’ he said.
‘He has lived a long time and no matter how you feel about him, you must learn
of your ancestry. Such knowledge will make it far easier to accept who you are
and where you go from here.’
I didn’t say it at the time but I found these
words more ominous than comforting and that night I tossed and turned with
doubts and thoughts of leaving. When I finally dreamed, I saw Emil laughing as
I was dragged away by unseen beasts into the forest. I called to him but he
could not hear me. What this meant, I had no idea, but I was determined to stay
on my guard at all times and to trust
no-one
fully but
myself. Could my enemies be the same people I was close to now?
The next day, Lewis summoned me to his library
where he showed me a history of the world book written in a strange but even
scrawl. I flicked over each page reluctantly as sometimes the pictures were too
graphic – of blood and beasts and wars. On one page there were drawings
of beasts, half human, with the hind legs of wolf, similar to ones I had seen
on tapestries earlier. Lewis put another volume in front of me impatiently and
turned to the beginning. And so began my instruction in witch history, potions,
and the ancient language of
witch speak
. Lewis told me formidably that
before I could read the books I would need to learn his, or as he quickly
corrected himself,
our
own language.
It was awkward at first: his teaching was
rushed and forceful – possibly his way of testing my dedication –
but once my nerves had settled, it was obvious from my questioning and the
ability to listen that he considered me a worthy enough student. After this
initiation I was asked to come back to his library every day. It was his
intention to instruct me in the ways of the oldest race of all from which I had
descended.
The ultimate purpose of this instruction was
not something I had much time to consider; the fascinating books and
century-old knowledge distracted me from pondering my future. Even in bed at
night I would rehearse the
witch speak
language until finally too
exhausted to do anything but sleep.
For several months I studied the language
diligently, never late for my lessons, immediately after a lonely breakfast of
yeast rolls and bacon, and sickly sweet honeyed mead, which I eventually found
the taste for. It was not long before I could read part of the history books
and learn of my ancestry of strigoi, of their immortality built from human
blood, and those who could breathe in the lives of humans to extend their
powers. When I asked Lewis how selfish it was to take the life of another he
questioned me on my own devouring of earth’s creatures to survive.
Lewis talked of many things and he was a fine
teacher but there was a measurable distance between us. It did not matter how
long I was in his company, I was still wary that he was not the man he
appeared. There were a number of questions I wanted to ask him about his past,
but I did not yet have the confidence. It was difficult to read his stern face,
his piercing grey eyes and his dismissive mien. And, there were moments when I
grew so tired that Lewis thumped the table angrily, and times that without the
oath I had made to him and the friendships I was developing with Gabriel and
Irene, I perhaps would have turned my back on yet another home. Such ignorance
to think I would have been allowed to leave.
Irene was assigned solely to me and after an
initial few weeks she began to talk more freely. There was still an element of
guardedness, as if she was careful not to upset me. Over time she became more conversational
and I did so enjoy spending time with her.
One morning, a couple of months into my
training, she came to me with a new gown for my
fully grown
body. Irene told me that it came on a cart from the west, commissioned
especially to fit me.
It was sewn in panels of light green and cream
satin, and a row of bows centered with pearls down the bodice. Irene helped me
with the corset that also came with it and put the dress on me lacing it from
the back. It fitted perfectly and made my bosom more defined. She pinned my
hair in a knot at the base of my neck and placed a square of lace to cover my
hair modestly. After the excitement of dressing, only then did I wonder about
the extravagance.
‘Is this for a special occasion?’
‘As a matter of fact it is, Mistress. There is
a special dinner tonight. Lewis has invited some guests. Very important I
believe.’
I was apprehensive when I entered the foyer and
into a large dining hall. Not only was it the first meal outside my room, I was
beginning to wonder if there were any other inhabitants outside our closeted
domain. A sea of faces turned to view me. The light from the silver candelabras
dangled from the ceiling making their faces large and luminous. There was an
assortment of colours and textures in their clothing from patterned silks and
embroidered tunics. The women wore their hair in the style I was given, swept
away from their faces, and the sleeves of their gowns were pleated at the
shoulders and tight at the wrists. They dazzled and shone with garnets and
emeralds around their necks, along with other
jewels
the names of which I had learned from Irene back in my room.
Lewis and Gabriel were there and other strigoi
I had seen from my window. Some might ask whether I had been lonely for
company. There were moments when I missed the noisy sounds of the children
playing in the monastery gardens, but the truth was that my visits from Gabriel
and my lessons by Lewis seemed to fill every part of me.
I looked at Gabriel who was staring at me.
‘Lovely Lilah! I sometimes quite forget your age.’
Lewis shot him a look and when he turned away
Gabriel nodded at a
well dressed
gentleman who raised
his eyebrows in appraisal. The gentleman and his wife were introduced as Baron
and Baroness Brecht. My cheeks reddened and
I was suddenly
embarrassed by the flesh exposed at the top of my bodice
.