The room they arrived at was huge, dark, lit only by candles and torches. Through the high window openings one could see the starry sky and the full moon. A circle was drawn in the middle of the room, in which a pentagram was inscribed. There was an inscription in Latin around the circle, black candles burned at the corners of the pentagram. A cross was inscribed inside the pentagram. A smaller part of him was looking at the door. In the place where the planks of the cross met, there was a bowl. Along the walls of the round room were couches with pillows and bedspreads, which could be guessed from the outlines, since most of the room was in the shade. Bertrand de Gault came out of the darkness with a tarred torch.“Here you are,” he said, and lit a torch from a nearby candle. Sweetish smoke drifted across the room. Bertrand waved his hand. Pierre put a three-legged stool over the cup in a pentagram and led Boris to it. Boris, who had already begun to have its effect on the smoke,
Well, - Guillaume clapped his hands and rubbed his hands. – Would you like to have a bite to eat? A simple question reminded Katya of a monstrous feast, and nausea rose in her throat.No, no, she shook her head. - Do not worry.Then coffee. Suddenly, quickly, the little man rode up in his chair to the corner where he had a kitchen. It really was a miniature kitchen with a refrigerator, electric stove, microwave and dishwasher. A switch flipped, and a soft, muted light lit up the corner. Everything was sparkling clean and tidy. Jars of coffee, a sugar bowl, a teapot, a salt shaker and other little things were at arm's length. Katya watched in amazement as Guillaume deftly managed all the objects, moving his chair along the way.Yes, in this sense I am not disabled, - he said without looking at her. I have been living with a chair for a long time. It is my legs, and it would be surprising if I had not learned to manage it for so many years. He pointed Katya to
Guillaume looked attentively at Katya, sighed and opened his mouth to continue the story. Suddenly he became alert. Katya also had an unpleasant feeling. For a while, an uneasy silence surrounded and weighed on them. Then there was a thump of feet, and the door swung open. Katerina stood in the doorway, alarmed.Catherine,” Guillaume turned to her. “I feel the presence of a member of our family. Who is this? Katerina suppressed her surprise and spoke quickly.Some woman came and brought the police. She screamed that her friend had gone mad here and she was being locked up like a beast. That people are being killed and eaten here. She brought her hands up to her face. “And worst of all, the commissar who came with her is a distant descendant of ours. Guillaume looked at Katya with a smile. Then he turned to Katherine.But is it possible to influence him?Bertrand finds out just that,” Catherine said calmly.And what is the name of a friend, she did not say? Katya ask
During the same week, Katya tried to leave the castle , worrying about Agnia. She was also made nervous by the ever-increasing number of relatives gathering in the castle . And also the strange behavior of golems, wearing something all the time, dragging and repairing. What caused such a pilgrimage of relatives to her, no one could clearly say. However, the sane, interrogated by her, fell into some kind of inhibited state and insisted that they should be here. By the end of the second week, Katya became more and more worried. Moreover, Guillaume became somehow apathetic and clearly tried to avoid her. And Katerina just stopped noticing her. Discouraged Katya tried to act herself. But then her clothes suddenly turned out to be dirty or washed, then the keys to the car or passport disappeared somewhere, then it rained from morning to evening, turning the roads into impassable obstacles, then the candles in the car flooded, then gasoline disappeared somewhere, then she herself ha
After a while, when there was no place for the apple to fall in the hall, the door slammed shut with a loud noise. Katya looked doomedly from one face to another: so different and so the same. Bodily deformities and mental pathologies, the gifts of the psyche and the curses of the soul - all this must soon be destroyed. All this will die and not be reborn. The poems written by a novice boy centuries ago were just poetry. And no prophecy. And now some fanatic decided in his own way to fulfill what he considered a prediction. All of a sudden, all heads went up to the glass ceiling. Katya also heard a sound and raised her head. High above her in white robes and a white mask on his face stood a man.Dear relatives! Suddenly, a voice sounded in her head. “Today, the prophecy of the old monk who was killed right on this spot will be fulfilled. Many years ago, the abbot Gilbert Orsi was crucified by our ancestor and, dying, predicted his punishment up to the thirteenth degree. Only
“I told you to leave the sword,” the woman said calmly. The knight's fingers loosened. “I didn’t see you or your coat of arms. I haven't heard of you or the sorcerers. I was just waiting for you.- How did you know that I would come? the knight asked furiously. The woman shrugged and turned to the shack. - No, you say! The knight grabbed his sword again. But the woman, without turning around, waved her hand, and his fingers seemed to burn. He stared at his hand, then at the back of the retreating woman, and with a cry he rushed to grab her and strangle her. But his hands passed through the void. And the woman herself was a few steps ahead of him. The knight hesitated.- Well? the woman asked as she continued walking toward the shack. - Will you come in? Or am I here to predict your future? The knight hesitated and followed her. Indignation bubbled in his soul - this peasant woman dared to turn her back on him, and even expose him to ridicule with her tricks. Muttering curses,
Prologue While there is no peace in the soul,There is only evil and darkness in it,that will be damned man from birth to ages.Fall on his race with a curse. Given only as long as While the sinless child They won't let you under the axe. The red winter sun shone dimly on the towers darkening at sunset. Flashes of fire illuminated the battlements and the jagged stones in them. Black snow covered the roofs, and acrid smoke obscured the eyes. The once rich monastery of Saint-Catherine now burned like a great fire. Clouds of crows, covering the sky, circled over him. What happened to the dwelling of the brides of Christ, which even corrupt churchmen considered a model of virtue and Christian humility? Where did the elderly priest come from in the nunnery, now nailed to a cross made of unplaned roughly knocked together boards with a white beard fluttering in the wind? His body, blue from the cold, was black in places with soot and blood, and from his clothes there was only a dirty rag
- But they are cold, - said the second slyly, named his curious comrade Giles. Let's warm them up. He picked up a burning torch nearby and threw it into a pile of bodies. Frozen clothes slowly settled in. The rest of the soldiers rushed to the other torches. And soon, spreading the stench and the smell of burnt flesh, a bright fire blazed. Occupied with maintaining it, they did not notice how a black shadow rushed from the other end of it and disappeared in dense bushes of nettles, thistles and thistles. The rest of the soldiers also awoke. Exchanging jokes over the fire for some time, the soldiers wandered into the monastery building, where, if there is no special heat, there are walls, a roof and a fireplace. Not to mention wine cellars. In the monastery of Saint-Catherine, weak wine was made, which, although not in great demand, brought income. When the conversations of the soldiers died down, and the silence of the night was interrupted only by the crackling of a