Lilah (10 page)

‘I was her brother but always wrapped up in my
own woes, my jealousy of Andrew, my desire for my father’s attentions, my
loneliness.’

‘Emil, stop it! You could not have known.’

He turned to me, gripping his own wrist as if
somehow it would take away his pain inside. ‘Part of me did know but I refused
to believe it.’ He stood up. ‘I’m sorry he has hurt you so viciously. Neither
of them will hurt again.’

He opened the door to leave but I jumped up
then and grabbed his arm. He shook me free as if he didn’t see me, as if I no
longer existed, and I even sensed a slight revulsion, fleeting though it was.
Because of the deed of his brother I was perhaps no longer pure to him as
Andrew had predicted. Still, vengeance was foremost driving him, and whatever
his thoughts were of me I did not want any wrong to befall him.

I ran after him uncaring that I wore only a
chemise. Although he was not well, his cause had also given him strength.
‘Please,’ I called after him. I had not had time to heal the aching in my legs
and stomach, something I had never consciously had to do.

Emil was calling now for his brother. He walked
out the front door.

‘What do you want?’ asked Istavan who appeared
from nowhere, sneering at both of us. Emil’s eyes were wild, and
me
with my hair flowing without a cap, shoeless in my
nightgown.

‘You are no father of mine,’ shouted Emil.

Istavan stood for a moment, eyes narrowed. He
took a step towards his son with fists clenched then walked away towards the
barn, his black cap disappearing into the darkness of the grounds. Emil
followed him shouting: ‘
Are
you a coward father? Is
that why you hide?’

Istavan reappeared carrying a horsewhip, his
stride purposeful as he headed towards Emil. ‘You should know by now that I
hide from no-one and you are no longer a son of mine.’

‘No!’ I rushed forward but was quickly
restrained; Andrew had pinned my arms behind my back. A sudden movement caught
my attention and I turned to see Lady Köszegi at the window above us. When she
saw me looking she closed the curtain.

Emil lunged at his father with a small dagger
he had produced but one crack of the whip had instantly ended his attack. His
shirt was split at the shoulder and I watched the first drops of blood darken
the white cloth. He tried in vain to reach his father but again the whip lashed
him hard, pushing him backwards onto the ground. Emil examined the cross of
blood on his torso with disbelief. Istavan paused briefly to take stock of the
situation, perhaps half-hoping that it was all over, but instead it gave Emil
enough time to rush at his father before he could once again raise the whip.

Istavan was quicker and before Emil had time to
plunge the knife, he buckled from the force of his father’s fist in his
stomach. Emil doubled over lowering himself to his knees. I watched his failed
attempt to stand up, and he then began to wheeze heavily, his chest rising and
falling too fast for him to take a full breath. Blood trickled from his mouth
where his disease was seeping.

‘Stop,’ I shouted. ‘He is sick. You will kill
him.’ But Andrew’s large hand clamped across my mouth stopping any further
protest.

Emil lay on his side clutching his chest. His lungs
were collapsing and he could not stop coughing. Istavan whipped him again on
his back and Emil did not yelp in pain this time, but his body arched suddenly,
and several convulsions followed. The spasm in his chest seemed to have
subsided and I knew this could only mean that he had barely any air left in his
lungs. Ivan continued with several more lashings and Emil’s clothes now
resembled bloody rags.

I felt Andrew release me this time and step
forward. ‘Father,’ he said hollowly. ‘That is enough.’

Istavan turned to his second-born son and
bellowed for him to stay away, his face red with rage. I realised this was no
ordinary man and certainly not one of sound mind. He was enjoying this in some
sadistic way. ‘I will say when it is enough!’

Istavan hit his son with his fists several more
times then kicked him hard in the back. Emil’s body jerked with the force and
he lay still with eyes closed. With teeth clenched and his temper raging
through his veins, Istavan then stepped towards me. I thought he would hit me
too and his fist was close enough for me to see bone beneath his raw knuckles.
But then his breathing slowed and his arms lowered at his side. He took one
look back at Emil and rubbed and wrung his hands violently as if he wanted to
be free of something vile or, I thought at the time, he was absolving his own
sins. He nodded then with some satisfaction and headed towards the house. This
was familiar territory to him – another casualty of rebellion and no
allowances for his own flesh and blood.

‘Take the bitch into the forest and kill her,’
he ordered to his remaining son, casually over his shoulder, in the same tone
he had used to the stable boy to ready his horse.

Andrew grabbed me and pushed me roughly towards
the stables. With one arm around my waist he hoisted me across the front of his
stallion, and mounting behind me. I was too exhausted to feel loathing even
after what he took from me earlier that evening. We galloped past the limp and
bloodied form of Emil and I craned my neck to watch him disappear from view as
I was taken into the hilly forests at the far side of the property.

I no longer cared what happened to me. He
lifted me off the horse effortlessly, as if I was a cloth doll, and I waited
for his sword to strike me. I had
no-one
and nothing.
My parents had no love for me and I was homeless once more. Emil was dying,
possibly already dead, and death was probably my best alternative. I might at
least find peace.

In the light of the stars we stood on a rocky
outcrop.

‘I am sorry about Emil,’ he said suddenly. ‘My
brother was too weak for this world. Perhaps in some way he is better in
another place.’

I did not respond for any form of repentance or
regret was wasted on me now.

‘If you go now and disappear, I will not kill
you,’ he said, his voice slightly shaken. ‘Just don’t come back or I will have
to. Do you understand?’

I was shocked for a moment that he would set me
free, then slightly disappointed. ‘Please kill me,’ I said. ‘For I have no life
to go to.’

He thought about this a moment. ‘Alright then,’
he said. ‘I will make it quick.’

He told me to kneel and I looked up to the
stars. They were particularly bright nestled in their bed of azure. A cuckoo
bird called out into the night and others responded. I closed my eyes and
whispered a prayer to my God, asking for forgiveness and that he may accept me
in heaven.

I felt the rush of air as Andrew raised his
sword above me. There was a sudden stillness,
then
I
heard grappling sounds followed by the cracking of bones. Before I could open
my eyes I was suddenly swept to one side: the feeling of being pushed by giant
hands or by another unnatural force, sending me sprawling into the damp earth.
I raised my head to see that another figure had taken Andrew’s place.

Gabriel

I had seen enough. I had watched the
father strike his son to an inch from life. It was time for the girl to leave.

I had rushed past her and grabbed the man’s
head, breaking it like the stem of a flower. My speed passing Lilah pushed her
sideways, the force of the magic causing the earth to crumble and scatter
around her.

She stood up bewildered. At my feet was the
human called Andrew, his head twisted so that he now looked out through dead
eyes over his shoulder at the sky. But he should have been looking downward, as
that was undoubtedly where he was bound, to exist for eternity.

‘Is he dead?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

I was angry
at
her. At
the way she gave up so easily and lost the fight. I told her this.

‘You saw everything then,’ she said.

‘Yes.’ She was ashamed then and I put it down
to such human and witch condition where trauma weakens their spirit and clouds
their judgement.

I grabbed her hand and led her to the horse. It
was time to take her to a place where she would be safe. When I told her this she
began to panic, her former instincts for survival returned.

‘Emil,’ she begged. ‘I must check on him.’

Emil? She would soon learn that her concerns
are wasted on many such as these. They would turn on her in a heartbeat if they
knew of her origins. But she was young and not to know. We mounted the horse
and I nodded my agreement. I thought it was a slight deviation to a much larger
cause and so humoured her. We rode fast through the trees and she sat closely
behind me, her breasts pressed against my back, her arms tightly around my
middle. Her body was warm against my back, and I enjoyed the sensation, even
the sweet human smell of her; marred only by a faint male stench. I recognised
the heinous defiling and regretted not arriving earlier to prevent it, instead
pursuing my own indulgences.

As we neared the house, she pushed at me to get
down from the horse quickly then ran to the young male.

‘Emil,’ she called. He did not turn his head
but managed to murmur something and I thought what sort of father beats his son
and then leaves him in the cold of night to die a slow and painful death.

‘Evie,’ he rasped.

‘I will go to her but first we must get you
help.’

She began to put her hands on him.

‘No,’ I said and pulled them gently away. ‘You
will have no strength if you do this. Do as the boy says. Find the girl and
make sure she is safe and I will look after him.’

‘But you can’t…’ And then she stopped. ‘Are you
a healer too?’

‘I can be,’ I said, though this was only the
very tip of my skills and not applied to humans. Of course, it was not the time
to tell her this now.

She looked at Emil reluctantly and then at me.

‘I love you, Emil,’ she said and kissed his
forehead. ‘I will return to see you soon.’ She turned from us then and
disappeared into the house. I stood there looking at the boy, whose eyes met
mine, and for some strange humanly reason felt the slightest twinge of jealousy
that this girl should have eyes for someone else. The best thing to do would be
to feed from him so that his blood was not wasted in vain. It was not in our
code to cure humans. If they wanted to kill one another it was their choice.

I had watched a father batter his son with such
deadly intent to expose the marrow of his bones. You might ask why I didn’t
intervene in such a simple thing as healing. But the strigoi
are
not to interfere with the laws of humans. The mess they make of themselves is
theirs to own.

I did what was necessary and followed her into
the house. I could smell the repulsive human father long before I reached him.
His fetid stench was easy to find. I had even heard their conversation.

When I reached the bedroom of Evie I saw the
small girl cringing in a corner with bruises on her cheek. Istavan stood over
Lilah kicking her on the floor. Such unmatched acts of violence made my own
task so much easier. There were nail marks on his wrist where Lilah had fought.
The smell of his infected blood consumed me then and I walked menacingly
towards him.

He warned me to keep away, and I caught
atrocities and corruption in this man’s eyes in the seconds before he pulled
his dagger to lunge at me. It took but a moment to snap Istavan’s wrist and
twist his other arm so tightly behind him that it tore from his shoulder. 
He shrieked and I dropped him to the floor to writhe in pain. Urine soaked the
front of his trouser while he lay helplessly whimpering and pleading for mercy.
With the tip of my boot I pressed my strigoi strength onto his wounded shoulder
until the bones crunched from the pressure and the blood and muscles were reduced
to pulp. He was drowsy with torture and his pleas came in hoarse whispers. I
did not rush to release him from his suffering instead sending him images of
his hanging body burning in hellfire for the lifetime of torment he had
inflicted on others.

Pulling him up by the front of his shirt I let
him witness the fangs growing within my mouth and fed hungrily upon those last
moments of fear before I bit down on his neck. His blood flowed freely into my
mouth and I forgot all that was around me for a moment. The blood came in
gushes and I viewed his past. It was one of violence, of secret deals with
corrupt princes and those in waiting. There were rapes of his young daughters
and of others, and I was slightly shocked to see the girl from the monastery. I
knew that this man was her father but did not realise the extent to which he
had hurt her. I saw her hit back at her father and then taken away in a cart,
her mother crying pathetic tears. I saw this man kill his own brother while
sparring and then secretly bury the body. And then there was a final rush of
blood and a momentary feeling of floating before it was over.

When I opened my eyes I saw that the Evie
looked even more terrified as she slid from the room and Lilah stood
close-mouthed, appalled, but strangely not horrified.