Back to Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty-One � The Destroyer�s Gold
Throughout
the morning, Danka sped past bewildered peasants as they lined the
roads, staring at the gap in the distant mountainside where the
cathedral used to be. They were so shocked by the disaster that no one
bothered to take a close look at the slim feminine-looking guard
galloping past on one of the most expensive horses in Central Europe.
The Bishop�s horse was an excellent ride, fast but very controllable,
even for an incompetent rider like herself. In fact, the ride seemed
almost too good, more like she was floating through air than bouncing
around on a living animal.
Danka didn�t stop again until noon, when she came up to a stream with a
patch of grass next to it. She�d let the horse drink and graze while she
adjusted her clothing and examined the contents of the Bishop�s
saddlebag. It was heavy; full of coded messages, a Christian Bible,
dried meat, preserved fruit, and Turkish delight, and� gold coins. Danka
couldn�t believe what she was seeing. There were several coin-purses
containing more than 300 coins. For the first time in her life, Danka
was wealthy.
She moved the Bishop�s possessions to the guard�s saddlebag and
discarded the one from the Church. She removed a fine saddle-blanket
with Church emblems from the horse and folded it. Her trip suddenly
became much more complicated, because not only was she worried about
escaping, she also was worried about safeguarding her fortune. 300 gold
coins. What could she do with all that money? She�d buy land, lots of
it, and put a nice house right in the center. She�d buy a library of
books, and have a garden, and hire servants and guards. She�d spend long
relaxing summers sitting under her fruit trees, sleeping, reading, and
eating fruit. She�d bathe every day in her own heated tub. She�d never
bother to wear any clothing when the weather was nice. She�d enjoy her
body and her male servants would be available to pleasure her whenever
she wanted. And during the winter, she�d wear the finest dresses and sit
in the front row of church and go to fine parties with the wives of
guild masters and city councilmen.
She decided to continue riding west, in spite of the risk from riding in
broad daylight. She wanted to start her new life as soon as possible,
but she also wanted to return to Rika Chorna before news of the
avalanche reached the eastern capital. She stopped only long enough to
let the horse graze and rest. The meat and candy were enough to keep her
going, and she supplemented the preserved food with pieces of fresh
fruit taken from orchards. Her plan was to return to Rika Chorna just
long enough to retrieve her bucket from the safe-house, obtain a couple
of different disguises, and then continue towards Novo Sumy Ris and the
pass.
Four days later, Danka returned to Rika Chorna in the late afternoon.
Both she and her mount were covered with dust from the lengthy trip. She
entered the outskirts of the city and saluted a group of guards who
returned her salute. She was very nervous the guards would more closely
examine her and discover that she was a woman and that her horse was far
more expensive than one normally issued to a guardsman. The Ancients
continued to protect her, however. The men were distracted trying to
extort an extra silver coin from a farmer attempting to bring a wagon of
produce to the market square. When she moved past the checkpoint, Danka
reflected on the irony of the situation. Those guards were worried about
a single silver coin. Had they more closely examined her, they would
have been rewarded with a haul of 300 gold pieces.
As she moved through the city, the stallion drew the attention of anyone
with knowledge of horses. Even exhausted and dirty, the animal was too
flashy, a liability for a person who needed to stay anonymous. Danka
realized she�d have to somehow get rid of him, preferably by selling
him. But, how on earth could she find a buyer for the Bishop�s horse in
Rika Chorna? She�d have to somehow take him to the western valley before
selling him, but she realized there was not a chance she�d ever make it.
She already had drawn too much attention to herself and people would be
watching to see when she left the city. The horse would undoubtedly be
stolen, probably with her being murdered as part of the bargain, as soon
as she resumed her journey.
The doubts about the horse expanded to doubts about the gold. To use the
gold, she knew she�d have to somehow smuggle it over the pass and then
find a safe location where, as a single woman, she could anonymously
purchase property and avoid being cheated or double-crossed. She had to
worry about being recognized almost anywhere she went in the western
valley. It was possible she could buy land in H�rkustk Ris province if
she could travel that far, but she�d have to cobble together small
parcels purchased from homesteaders, an action that was sure to draw
attention from the Royal Guards and the curiosity of the Grand Duke�s
informants. She arrived at the terrible realization that, although she
was wealthy, it didn�t matter. Her circumstances would not allow her to
enjoy that wealth. So, what was the point of attempting to transport all
that gold? She�d be risking her life over nothing.
She arrived at the safe-house and announced her presence with those
thoughts still on her mind. Z�nktia answered the door, dressed in her
nun�s habit. She was shocked to see Danka dressed as a provincial guard,
but that shock quickly became irritation when she realized Danka had
shown up at the safe-house with the Bishop�s horse.
�You fool! What are you doing? Move that animal away from here,
immediately!�
�But, what do you want me to do with him?�
Z�nktia thought for a moment, before telling Danka to take the horse to
a rendezvous spot behind the city�s church. She�d send a guard to take
charge of the horse, disguise him, and get him out of Rika Chorna. Danka
was enormously relieved when the contact met her and took away the
Bishop�s fine stallion and exchanged him for another black horse. The
new horse was much more ordinary in appearance, but looked like a nice,
dependable animal. Danka moved her saddlebag to the second horse. She
didn�t bother moving the Bishop�s saddle.
Danka knew that she should have been upset, because she had just been
horribly cheated by her co-conspirators. The Bishop�s stallion was worth
far more the horse she had been given. However, she was more relieved
than anything else. Both she and the Bishop�s stallion were much better
off being separated. She did not have the means to take proper care of
such a fine horse and she couldn�t use him or sell him without drawing
attention. She had exchanged a horse she couldn�t use for one she could
use. She returned to the safe-house with her new mount and led him into
an adjacent stable.
Danka unloaded her saddlebag and took off her guard uniform. With
Z�nktia available to help her, she settled into a tub of warm water and
finally was able to bathe and properly wash and re-braid her dust-filled
hair. Z�nktia offered her a nun�s habit, but Danka refused it. When
Z�nktia objected, Danka grabbed a worker�s dress for herself and
insisted on putting it on.
Z�nktia sent out messengers to gather the conspiracy�s members while
Danka ate. Still dressed in the simple garment of a city working-woman,
Danka gathered her companions around the dining table to summarize the
Bishop�s pilgrimage and what she knew about how it ended. From what she
had seen, the plot to assassinate the Bishop had succeeded beyond the
conspirators� wildest hopes. The entire True Believers� hierarchy had
been wiped out and their most sacred shrine completely destroyed. When
her audience asked how she managed to trick the guards watching over the
horses, Danka replied:
�I didn�t trick them at all. They tricked themselves. When they looked
in my direction, they didn�t see me. What they saw was their own drunken
fantasy. With the help of the Ancients, all I had to do was play along.�
Z�nktia asked about Enockt and the men who were working with him. Danka
responded that she wasn�t sure if Enockt survived the blast, but it was
for sure at least one of the men setting the fuses did not. She ran past
him while escaping, but when she returned to see what had happened to
the church, she observed the spot where he had been stationed had
completely fallen away during the landslide.
Danka had not yet mentioned anything about Enockt�s willingness to
sacrifice her as part of the assassination. Resentment against him
burned inside her, but if he was dead it didn�t matter. Even if he was
still alive, she wouldn�t benefit by telling anyone about the betrayal
before directly confronting him. She was more interested in leaving Rika
Chorna. She insisted her debt to Enockt was paid and she had no further
obligations.
�I�m sure a dead Bishop and a dead heir are worth far more than a dead
nymph squad-leader.�
The conspirators exchanged glances with each other, as though they were
bewildered and offended. Z�nktia coldly looked at Danka and spoke on
behalf of her companions:
�What are you talking about, with this nonsense of debt? There is no
debt, and you�re not going anywhere without our orders. You�re Path in
Life is to serve the Duchy, by serving us.�
�You mean� I�m not free to leave?�
�Of course you're not free to leave. What made you think you�re free to leave?
That�s why I don�t understand why you put on a worker�s dress. You need
to change back into your nun�s habit because you�re going back to the
convent in Novo S�kukt T�k. You�ll wait there until we can reassign
you.�
Danka was speechless. She felt she was going to be ill. After everything
she had endured, her only reward would be to go back to pretending to be
a True Believers� nun. She realized the group did not see her as one of
them. She was nothing more than their servant. A useful servant, but a
servant with no rights and no purpose in life apart from following
orders and collecting information.
Before she had the chance to think of a response, a look-out excitedly
showed up with the news Enockt had just entered Rika Chorna and was on
his way to the house. Everyone quickly dropped their conversation with
Danka. Enockt, the planner of the assassination, would have much more to
say about his victory. The distraction gave Danka time to go to the
storeroom where weapons were kept and pick up a goose-egg bomb. She
pulled off the protective covering, thus arming the device so it would
explode if she threw or dropped it. She waited in the passage entrance
while the others gathered around the outer door.
Enockt entered, still wearing the worker�s clothing he had on the last
time Danka saw him. The others excitedly saluted him and whistled to
celebrate his victory. He froze and his smile vanished when Danka
stepped out of the doorway, casually holding a bomb in her hand.
�What�s
worth more, the soul of the girl from the palace, or all the others?�
�Put that down. Put the bomb down.�
�Not until you answer my question, in front of everyone here. What�s
worth more, the soul of the girl from the palace, or all the others?
Then you can explain why I�m asking it.�
Danka held the bomb above her head with just her thumb and one finger.
�If I drop this, all that�ll happen is I�ll die, just like you wanted.
Your only problem is I�ll die in the wrong city. Isn�t that so?�
�The others, if you really must know! You're just one person! My concern
was to preserve the lives of several thousand! But right now you�re
still alive! So what difference does it make?�
�Exactly! I�m still alive, and your plot succeeded anyway! So what
difference would it have made to have the honor to tell me to move out
of the way, since it was my information that helped you murder a
church-full of people! Just a simple �move out before the Bishop lights
his incense�. That�s it! That�s all you would have had to say to me!
After all I�ve done, you really don�t think I�m worthy of a simple
warning?�
�It�s of no importance. You survived! You should give thanks to the
Lord-Creator, not be challenging me!�
�It is of importance! A lot of importance! I don�t work with dishonored
liars! And you had better tell everyone here my debt to you is paid!
Paid in full! I�m leaving this city and none of you will dare come after
me!�
�Stop it, you dishonored fool!�
�NO! I will not stop it! I swear, before the Ancients I swear, I will
NEVER wear a nun�s dress again, do you understand me? NEVER! I will
NEVER collect any more information for you! I�m done with this
conspiracy! I�ve paid my dues and I�m finished!�
The conspirators glanced at each other. Danka knew there was no way they
would let her leave. Since they were about to kill her anyway, she might
as well drop the bomb and take them to the Realm of the Afterlife with
her. Then she remembered the Bishop�s gold. She realized what she needed
to do with it: use it to ransom herself, and in doing so rid herself of
its burden. The gold, stolen from the hard labor of thousands of
ordinary working people, was the cursed product of great injustice and
evil. It would destroy anyone who tried to keep it, including Enockt and
his companions. Still holding the bomb, she held up the saddlebag with
her left hand.
�I want to show you something. Once you�ve seen it, I�m sure you�ll
change your minds about letting me leave.�
Danka struggled to pull out a coin purse with one hand and undo the
drawstring. When she scattered the coins across the room, the
expressions of her handlers completely changed. One of the men bent down
to pick up a coin, but Danka shook the bomb, which was a very risky
thing for her to do. The conspirators hissed in fright and held up their
hands.
�That�s only a small part of what�s in this saddlebag. I took it from
the Bishop. If you want the rest, I�ll give it to you, in exchange for a
few trivial things. I want a longbow and arrows and some more crossbow
bolts. I want a clean set of guard�s clothing and a standard traveling
kit with unused supplies. As payment for my services, I want 50 silver
pieces, which is a bargain compared to what I�m about to give you. Give
me those things, let me walk out of here and mount my horse, close the
door behind me, and we will part ways.�
In spite of his desire to keep Danka under his control and punish her
for calling him a �dishonored liar�, Enockt told the others to bring
her bucket and the other items she demanded, including the silver coins.
Seeing the gold completely changed him. He didn�t care about his
informant or the insult: the only thing he wanted was the contents of
her saddlebag. To speed up the delivery of her items and to prove she
still had most of the coins in her possession, Danka scattered another
bag of gold on the floor. She warned the others not to touch it until
she was outside.
The conspirators were no longer looking at her at all: they were looking
at the coins. When she saw the greed in their expressions and the weird
glint in their eyes, Danka�s belief the gold had a special curse on it
seemed to be confirmed. Something definitely was not right about that
fortune. She could feel it. She felt no remorse about leaving it to
people she hated. Instead, all she felt was relief it no longer was her
problem. She emptied a two more purses of coins on the floor. A couple
of coins dropped between floorboards, to the dismay of the conspirators.
Danka set the saddlebag against the wall behind her while she moved her
bucket, clothing, and traveling kit out the door. She had to move
everything with only one hand while holding the bomb in the other. She
could only hope that, once she was outside, the others would be too busy
picking up coins to worry about stopping her.
�I�m sure you think I�m an idiot, leaving this fortune behind, or that
I'm doing you a favor. I�m not. I know for a fact this gold is cursed. The
only person I�m doing a favor for is myself.�
When she stepped outside, one of the conspirators slammed the door shut
and dropped the crossbar. She went to the stable, saddled and loaded her
horse, and changed into her guard outfit. She had been right about her
companions: they were too distracted by the fortune to worry about
pursuing her. She replaced the cap on the bomb and gently set it down.
She didn't care who found it. That no longer was her concern.
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The disguised traveler rode through the western sector of Rika Chorna in
the middle of the night. No one took notice of a slightly-built
provincial guard riding an ordinary-looking horse. She left the town and
emerged into open countryside. She wondered what to do. The allure of
returning to the western valley had faded, but she certainly didn�t want
to stay in the Vice-Duchy. She thought about the region�s odious ruler,
its odious religious leaders, and the equally odious people who
conspired against them. The sooner the Destroyer dealt with all of them,
the better.
She had been riding for a couple of hours when the horse suddenly
stopped. He whinnied and backed away from something that obviously had
frightened him. She tried to get him to move forward, but he shook his
head and whinnied in protest. The animal absolutely refused to go any
further. The rider reached for her crossbow. She saw nothing, but a
strong premonition entered her thoughts, a warning from the Ancients
that she shouldn�t continue towards Novo Sumy Ris. She decided to turn
around and avoid whatever had spooked her horse. Life had taught her
that whenever she had a premonition, she�d better heed it.
She directed the horse along a country lane to distance herself from the
road. She figured the animal needed to graze and she badly needed to
rest. She had endured an entire week with almost no sleep at all. She
crossed some fields before coming across a poorly-maintained orchard. It
was evident the owner was poor, so perhaps in exchange for one of her
silver pieces she could count on him for a couple of meals, a place for
the horse to rest and graze, and a safe place to set up her tent and
sleep. She changed into her worker�s dress, approached the cottage, and
introduced herself as Vesna Rog�skt. A destitute-looking family blankly
stared at her until she held out the coin. It was a small fortune for
them, as it would have been for her father ten years before. Assured by
the parents that the children would take care of the horse and make sure
he was fed and watered, she set up her bedroll and tent under one of the
trees and promptly fell asleep. She woke up in the late afternoon just
long enough to indulge herself in some stew and half-a-roasted chicken.
She wanted to resume her journey, but was too tired. She decided to obey
the needs of her body and continued resting.
She didn�t wake up again until the middle of the night. She thought
about leaving, but was hungry and wasn�t sure she�d find all of her
belongings in the darkness. She saw no harm in waiting until the
following morning. She got up and went to the cottage. The farmer�s wife
gave her another bowl of stew and a scrawny roasted rabbit. As they
conversed, Vesna emphasized her lower-class accent, putting her host at
ease by letting her know they were both peasants. The visitor didn�t
talk much about herself, but asked questions about the area to find out
what she could about people she needed to avoid, such as tax collectors,
guards, and church officials.
Vesna stayed with her hosts for three days. A heavy rainstorm prevented
her from leaving on the second day. She was glad about that, because she
realized she needed the sleep. Finally, when she was ready to depart,
she left a second silver coin with her hosts. Might as well let someone
have a good year, she thought as she saddled her horse and prepared to
ride off.
Vesna realized she didn�t know her horse�s name, if he even had one. She
decided to call him Moonlight, since she expected to be riding him
mostly at night. She would have to train him to respond to that name.
She had no proof she was his owner, so the only thing she could fall
back on was having him respond when she called him.
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Vesna resumed her journey towards Novo Sumy Ris and the pass. She
changed into her guard outfit and approached the main road. She pulled
back when she heard the galloping of a platoon of mounted guards. They
sped by, carrying black mourning banners. In the Vice-Duchy, a black
banner was the sign that an important person had died. It wasn�t hard to
figure out the news of the deaths of the Bishop and the Vice-Duke�s
oldest son had just caught up with her. As if to answer that suspicion,
Church bells rang all around her to announce the Vice-Duchy had just
entered a period of mourning. The roads were closed and anyone
attempting to travel along them would be arrested for disrespect, so
Vesna would have to give up her plan to return to the western valley
through the pass.
She remembered a possible alternative route, which might actually be
better if it allowed her to avoid the Vice-Duchy�s guards. When she was
living with the Followers of the Ancients and visiting the cave-charcoal
mines, the elders had mentioned a couple of paths going east through the
forest and eventually leading to another set of mines. Beyond those
mines, even further to the east, were several small silver mines the
Followers avoided because they were under the control of owners from the
Vice-Duchy. It seemed the paths could all be traveled by horse. Assuming
the information was correct, it would be possible to ride from Pl�tnackt
D�k, the northernmost town in the Vice-Duchy, to Sev�rckt nad Gor�dki,
the northernmost town in the western valley. Vesna figured the alternate
route was worth investigating. Going over the main pass was no longer an
option, and probably wouldn�t be for the rest of the year.
Vesna avoided the main road as she moved north. She traveled along
country lanes as church bells continued ringing all around her. She
traveled at a casual pace, more interested in keeping Moonlight healthy
than she was in moving quickly. She�d have to take proper care of her
horse. She�d have no way of escaping the Vice-Duchy if anything happened
to him.
She had traveled about half the distance between Rika Chorna and
Pl�tnackt D�k when a strange urge hit her. The night was hot and she was
tired of sweating in her guard outfit. The paths were deserted, so she
didn�t see any harm in dismounting, taking off her clothes, and walking
naked for a while. Her legs were stiff from so much riding, and
Moonlight needed a rest anyway. For several hours she walked in the
dark, enjoying the peaceful night air and the gentle breeze caressing
her body. She led the horse by his reins and followed a dark trail that
was barely visible between fields of wheat. She ascended a hill, and
tied the horse to a fencepost. She stood alone, trying to make out what
lay ahead and what kind of countryside she�d be traveling through the
next day. It occurred to her that she should pray to the Ancients. She
received no answer, apart from confirmation she was where she should be
and going in the right direction.
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Pl�tnackt
D�k was the most recently founded of Danubia�s major cities. Today it is
a pleasant place full of unique architecture from the late nineteenth
century, located at the base of the Northern Mountains. However, in 1759
the town had existed for only twenty years and was a raw, primitive
settlement of wooden shacks and ore processing kilns. The town�s name,
�The Silver is Here�, reflected both the main source of income and the
population�s total lack of imagination for naming things during the
first decades of its existence. However, during the late 1700s Pl�tnackt
D�k was of vital economic importance for the Vice Duchy. Its mines
produced not only silver, but also iron, copper, and nickel.
During the early years of Pl�tnackt D�k, small farmers supplied most of
the food eaten by the miners. Landless peasants from other parts of the
Vice-Duchy had moved in, filling the region with ramshackle homesteads.
The area was poor, but the people had a culture of independence that
contrasted with the tightly-controlled society of the rest of the
eastern valley. That was not to say life was safe for a single woman,
especially a young one moving about, because it was not. Vesna�s plan
was to stay in the town as briefly as possible. However, she did have to
go in and find someone trustworthy to ask about the trails going up into
the mountains. She could not afford to become lost as she worked her way
past the metal mines towards the cave-charcoal mines. She wasn�t worried
about surviving in the forest, but she was worried about what would
happen if roving groups of miners found her traveling alone. She was
very glad to have her guard disguise, which she�d have to wear during
the first part of her journey along the trails.
Before going into the town itself, she decided to find a farming family
with whom she could stay so she could reconnoiter the region and figure
out the route she needed to take. She had to re-supply herself with food
and rest Moonlight before subjecting him to a rough trip through the
forest. She prayed to the Ancients to assist her. Shortly after she
finished praying, she approached a farm with a garden and some fruit
trees. An old man on crutches was outside, directing a teenaged girl and
five children to weed the garden. There were no young or middle-aged
adults on the property and it was clear the family was not doing well.
The children did not look healthy, and the old man�s condition seemed
even worse.
The group was frightened when they saw a guard entering their property.
The children instinctively clustered behind the old man and the
teenager. Vesna considered leaving, but she remembered her prayer. Was
it possible the Ancients had led her to that particular farm? She
decided to take a risk and remove her helmet. The family stared at her
with bewildered shock.
�It looks like you could use some food, and I need a place to stay.
Maybe we can help each other.�
�You� have food, Mistress?�
�No, but I have a have a silver piece.� Vesna held up a coin. �It�s
yours if you give me a safe place to set up my tent and rest my horse.�
The old man tapped the teenager with one of his crutches. Very
reluctantly she approached the stranger.
�You�re offering us silver, Mistress?�
Vesna looked around the farm. There was a chicken coop, but it was
empty. There was a pen for keeping pigs, but that was empty as well. It
was clear the first thing the group needed to do was eat, so they�d have
to procure some food. Vesna realized that going to the village market
with a local girl to buy a meal would be a perfect way to have a look
around.
�Let�s do this. I want to go to the local market anyway. We�ll buy a pig
and you can help me cook him. I�m sure you wouldn�t mind having roast
pig?�
�Mistress, you shouldn�t be taunting us. We�ve done you no harm.�
�I�m not taunting you. I�d like a good meal, a safe place to eat it, and
companions to share it with. I can�t eat a whole pig by myself.�
After convincing the teenager and the old man she was serious, Vesna
unloaded Moonlight and piled her belongings next to the cottage. She
excused herself to change into her worker�s dress. She decided to take
her longbow with her.
Vesna led her horse, the teenager, and the oldest boy, who was ten, into
the closest village. The townspeople seemed surprised to see the
destitute children accompanied by an armed young woman who was
considerably healthier. The food merchants had no problem accepting
Vesna�s money, however. She bought the pig and ingredients needed to
roast him, but she knew that it would take at least a day to prepare and
cook the animal, and the family needed to eat right away. She bought a
half-wheel of cheese, eight loaves of bread, a bag of apples, vegetables
and salt to make stew, a cage containing six hens, and grain to feed
them. She ended up spending not one, but four of her silver coins. As
the sun set, the stranger and the children returned to the farm with the
pig and the loaded horse. She ate a good meal with her astounded hosts
before setting up her tent. She announced they�d slaughter and cook the
pig the next day.
The pig took two days to properly prepare, so the family continued to
feast on the food their guest bought at the market. Vesna sent the girl
back to the village to purchase more hens to re-stock the chicken coop
so everyone could have eggs. She examined the old man�s legs and treated
an infection. Over the following week the children recovered from being
malnourished.
Vesna talked at length with the old man about the surrounding area and
the new silver-mining town. She found out that his name was Pl�menckt
and the teenager�s name was Marg�ckta. The children were all Pl�menckt�s
grandchildren. Marg�ckta and the oldest boy were the orphans of a
daughter who was executed by the True Believers for prostitution. The
other four were the offspring of a son who went into the mountains with
a group of prospectors and never returned. Pl�menckt�s daughter-in-law
had moved in with him, bringing her children. However, in the spring a
neighbor found her dead along the lane leading to the village. She was
killed by a musket-ball, but no one knew why. After burying the
daughter-in-law, Pl�menckt tried to keep the farm going over the summer,
but his health was failing and he did not have the resources to take
care of six children by himself.
When Vesna was alone with Marg�ckta, the girl provided additional
details about the family�s history. She also confessed she was planning
to run away to the mines and work as a prostitute, in spite of what
happened to her mother. Vesna responded:
�Well, you�d better not try doing that while I�m here. You won�t need
the True Believers to separate your soul from your body. I�ll track you
down and execute you myself.�
�But�what can I do?�
�Braid your hair and find a husband. That had better be the only Path in
Life you think about.�
�But, I� can�t. I don�t have a dress� or anything else��
�We�ll see what we can do about that. Don�t assume you�re the only girl
who�s ever faced that difficulty. But I�m warning you not to try running
off. Be patient.�
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The days went by and Vesna�s instincts as a peasant took over as she
started addressing many of the farm�s longer-term problems. Without
giving much thought to what she was doing, she directed the children to
start cleaning up the homestead. The house was in deplorable condition,
so she returned to the market to buy some tools and nails to make
repairs. She addressed the family�s lack of cleanliness by converting an
old barrel into a primitive bathtub. She oversaw a bathing and
teeth-cleaning regimen. She inspected the children�s clothing and made
sure it was at least reasonably clean.
By
the beginning of the second week she began working in the garden. She
couldn�t help it: she just couldn�t bear looking at a farm in such
deplorable condition without doing something about it. When she was
outside in the dirt, she returned to the western Danubian custom of
wearing nothing but shoes and a broad-brimmed hat to reduce the amount
of time she had to spend washing and drying her worker�s dress. To save
time dealing with their own clothing, the older children followed her
example while performing their chores. At the end of each day the
visitor insisted that everyone use the improvised bathtub before going
into the house.
Vesna spent August exploring the area around Pl�tnackt D�k when she was
not trying to fix the problems with Pl�menckt�s farm. She took Marg�ckta
with her as a guide and companion, but also to keep the girl under her
watch and make sure she didn�t try leaving the farm in her absence.
Vesna inquired about the mines and paths going into the mountains. She
discovered there was a book-seller in Pl�tnackt D�k who was able to
provide her with what she needed; a map of the paths and lanes
surrounding the silver mines, including the trails going west towards
the cave-charcoal excavations. He warned her not to go into the
mountains, however. Recent rainstorms had washed out one of the mines
and some of the trails. Unemployed miners were repairing the area, but
the men were destitute and a single woman attempting to ride through the
area on a horse would be a tempting target.
�It won�t be so dangerous after they fix their mine and go back to work.
But right now those men are starving and blocking the road. Your horse
would make a fine meal and you�d provide the after-dinner
entertainment.�
�So, when do you think the road will be clear?�
�Not till the end of August, at the earliest. Whenever you come into
town I�ll update you with anything I find out.�
Meanwhile, Marg�ckta was paging through the books, looking at the text
with bewilderment. Vesna glanced at her, then at her map in frustration.
The end of August. Knowing how the Realm of the Living worked, the date
was optimistic. Probably those workers wouldn�t have the road fixed
until sometime in September. It would take at least another month to
navigate the paths to Sev�rckt nad Gor�dki, meaning the best she could
hope was to finish the trip in mid-October. She wouldn�t make it before
the first snowfall in the higher elevations stranded her. So, she�d have
to wait until the following year. She sighed in frustration. She had
wasted her time, coming to Pl�tnackt D�k.
There was more bad news awaiting Vesna when she and the girl returned to
the homestead. Pl�menckt was in bed, unable to talk, with the kids
gathered around him. When Vesna examined him, it was apparent he had
suffered a stroke. Vesna questioned Marg�ckta about the old man�s health
over the summer. The girl related he had suffered a previous stroke, the
one that forced him to use crutches. The second stroke was even more
serious. It was obvious he was not going to recover.
Vesna sat by the old man�s bed. He struggled to talk. He was able to
nod, but not much more. After looking around the room at his grandkids,
Pl�menckt looked at her with a pleading expression. It wasn�t hard to
figure out what he wanted. Vesna took a deep breath and accepted the
responsibility the Ancients had given her. She took his hand.
�I�ll stay with the kids over the winter. I can�t promise you anything
more than that, but I�ll help them make it through the spring planting.
I know a few things about surviving and I�ll teach them what I can while
I�m here. And I�ll watch Marg�ckta. I already told her what will happen
if she tries to run away. I know how to use a switch and she�ll find
that out if she tries anything stupid.�
The old man continued looking at her. She didn�t know what else to do,
so she continued talking to reassure him.
�I came here because I wanted to go through the mountains to get to
Sev�rckt nad Gor�dki. I�m a fugitive from Rika Chorna and I can�t risk
going over the main pass. I just found out I can�t go this way either,
because I can�t go past the mines until next spring. So, I�m stranded. I
couldn�t leave even if I wanted to.�
Vesna�s cold logic reassured the old man more than any promise she could
have made. Vesna called Marg�ckta to her side. She placed the girl�s
hand onto that of her grandfather.
�You heard me tell your grandfather that I�ll watch over you. I will
keep that promise. Do you understand, Marg�ckta?�
�Yes, Mistress Vesna.�
Vesna figured it would be best to let the grandkids be alone with the
old man during his final moments in the Realm of the Living. She carried
a new pickax to the gravesite of the murdered daughter-in-law. She took
off her dress and started a new grave next to the one already there. She
began hacking at the ground halfheartedly. However, as the memories of
the Vice-Duke and his hideous palace and the hideous people who filled
it took over her thoughts, rage built up inside her. This� right here�
this was the price of what that group of degenerates was doing to the
Vice-Duchy. She grunted and perspired as she wildly swung the implement.
She was sick of her life and sick of the Realm of the Living. At that
moment everything disgusted her. The face of the weakling Prince
Hrist�ckt, as he lay in his bed beneath her, filled her imagination. She
savagely swung at that offensive apparition, landing the pick squarely
into his nose. Oh, how she would have liked to use that pick on him for
real. He had died suddenly, in an explosion or a landslide. That was way
too good for him. Why couldn�t he have suffered like that old man inside
the cottage?
As she swung the pick, the faces of other people she hated came into
view: Enockt, Oana, the Vice-Duke�s family, the women from the palace in
Rika Chorna, the nuns, the matrons from the Grand Duke�s castle, Guard
Ann�kki � and the Crowned Prince of her bitter memories, Bagat�rckt. She
grunted in rage as she swung the pick into each of their faces.
Before she realized what she had done, Vesna was standing in a grave
that was as deep as her chest. Sweat poured down her naked body, she was
covered in mud, and her hands were full of painful blisters that already
had broken. She looked up to see the bewildered children standing above
her. Marg�ckta made the announcement that her grandfather�s soul had
separated from his body. Vesna climbed out from the muddy hole and told
the others to wait until she could bathe and get dressed. A half-an-hour
later the patriarch of that sad family was laying in the ground, holding
the remains of a broken mirror as the dirt piled on top of him. The
funeral consisted of a prayer to the Ancients and three hymns of
mourning sung by Vesna in archaic Danubian.
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Later that night, after the children were asleep, Vesna returned to the
grave. She silently stared at the mound of dirt for a long time. As
pathetic as it was, the funeral for a stranger was more than she had
been able to give either her dead husband or her dead lover. She decided
a prayer to the dead was necessary. Yes, she had prayed for Pl�menckt,
but it had been a while since she prayed for the souls of Ermin and
Ilm�tarkt.
Before she could kneel, an owl flew over her head and landed on a fence
post. The bird turned his head and stared at her with cruel yellow eyes.
The world slowly went black and the ground grabbed her feet. She was
immobilized. The eyes grew until they filled her entire range of vision.
�Danka� Danka� Danka S�luckt. Answer me. Do not try to ignore me.�
�Why are you calling me that? I�m using the name Vesna Rog�skt right
now.�
�Not with me, you�re not. To me, you will always be Danka.�
�So, what now? What are you taking from me this time? Or are you here to
tell me something awful about the old man?�
�I�m not taking anything from you, Danka S�luckt, and I�m not here to
tell you anything awful� at least not about anyone you care about. I�m
here to congratulate you. I tested you, and you were one of the few
mortals who�ve ever survived that challenge.�
�Tested me? You�re� you�re talking about the Bishop�s gold?�
�Exactly. You saw the gold for what it is. It took you a while, but you
realized what that fortune would do to you. You were smart enough to get
rid of it. I�m impressed. It�s not often I can say that about a mortal.
You impressed me.�
�So, I guess� I should thank you for the compliment.�
�If you wish. I know you�re curious to know what�s happened to the gold,
whether you care to admit it or not. So, I�ll tell you, and in doing so
I will give you some insight of the true stupidity of humans, and why I
see fit to torment them. As you know, the gold was indeed cursed. The
Bishop collected it over the years, making life miserable for tens of
thousands of people in doing so. That gold was his purpose in life, so I
saw fit to destroy him. Would you like to know what happened to your
co-conspirators in Rika Chorna?�
�Yes.�
�Very well. As soon as you gave them the coins and departed, you�re
companions argued over what to do with my fortune. The smartest member
of your group argued for taking it to the Great Temple in Dan�bikt M�skt
and handing it over to the Prophets. Had they followed that advice, they
would have rid themselves of my curse. Unfortunately for them, Enockt
overruled that member and asked, what else should they do with the gold?
Buy land? Weapons? Use it for bribes? Construct a better safe-house? As
the arguing continued through the night, your companions lost trust in
each other. Each began to wonder how he or she could take away a portion
of the gold for personal use. They became greedy, so no one had the
common sense to admit the coins should be evenly split up. The
quarreling turned into an open fight. Finally, close to dawn, Enockt
snuck out, retrieved a flash-bomb, and tossed it into the room to
paralyze the others. Your leader killed his companions, people he had
worked with for years, with a short-sword. He gathered all of the
purses, stole the Bishop�s stallion, and departed to return to his home
in P�vdenkt T�k. Shall I continue?�
�Please.�
�As soon as the sun rose, a group of provincial guards recognized the
Bishop�s horse and pursued the rider. It took several hours, but finally
they cornered Enockt and arrested him. Without bothering to ask any
questions or formally put him on trial, they bayoneted him. Interesting,
is it not? They had, in their custody, the most notorious criminal in
the Vice-Duchy, but they were so deluded by the gold they never bothered
to learn their prisoner�s true value. The guards spent the rest of the
day arguing over what to do with the gold and how to divide it up. Each
thought he deserved to have most or all of it. At sunset, the guards
grabbed their muskets and clubbed and bayoneted each other until a
single man was left alive. He took off with the Bishop�s stallion and
fled. The surviving guard was dead in less than an hour, murdered by
brigands who recognized the horse and wanted the animal for themselves.
By sunrise the following morning, the brigands were dead and the
treasure changed hands yet again. So, that was the fate of the gold and
the horse. For the rest of the summer, the coins and the animal moved
from town to town, separating souls from bodies wherever they went.�
��and how will it end?�
�It just ended, today in fact. Another mortal, a bit smarter than most,
did what you did. He rejected the gold and refused to touch it. I spared
his life and took back my coins and my horse.�
There was a long pause, as Danka (as she was still known to the
Destroyer) stared into the unblinking yellow eyes.
�I have a question. I�d like your permission to ask it.�
�As you wish. Ask.�
�You seem to enjoy punishing people who indulge in hubris. That�s the
weakness that seems to attract you the most. Am I correct about that?�
�I don�t �punish� mortals, Danka S�luckt. I separate souls from bodies
because that is what the Cosmos calls upon me to do. But you are correct
about hubris. A person, or a nation, indulging in hubris is more likely
to draw my attention than one that is not indulging in hubris. And
remember, hubris takes many forms and destroys mortals in many different
ways.�
The eyes vanished and the darkness receded. The ground released the
young woman�s feet. When she looked at the fence-post, the owl was gone.
She felt strangely at peace, which was the first time she had ever felt
that way after a visit from the Destroyer. Previously she had felt
frightened or bewildered or angry, but this time the Destroyer had not
visited to taunt her. Instead, the Destroyer had given her some insight
about the Realm of the Living. She was grateful for insight, regardless
of where it came from.
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