2023-03-17 12:55:37Opening her eyelids with difficulty, Jane was surprised to see a glass of water and a biscuit on the table by her bed. She didn't want to eat, but the thirst was strong. “God, what did I eat for breakfast? she asked herself, feeling her head. The head was like a big cast-iron cauldron: empty and heavy. - What am I doing here? I had to run away from here yesterday. Where did Mary go? Maybe she was drugged with the same stuff that I was, and she just can't get up? God, how I want to drink! Despite her thirst, Jane fought with herself as best she could. Although she ate and drank only at the common table, she had no doubt that her incomprehensible dream after breakfast had something to do with the dishes served on it. Jane distracted herself, but her gaze stubbornly returned to the glass of water. Finally, unable to control herself, she rushed to him like a hungry wolf to a sheep. quench my thirst, she was surprised to feel that her anxieties had gone somewhere, and the light from the candles and the fireplace in the room became brighter. Perhaps Bianca really is out of her mind, she thought lazily. “And brother and sister are a little strange. However, after the weddingand the Gladstone mok will be brought into proper shape. Bertrand de Gault will take care of it. And as for his wives, then about Gilles de Re *, the notorious Bluebeard, and not such rumors circulated. As far as I remember, half of them were fiction. It's just that people are bored with living an ordinary life, so they invent nonsense. And if a person is a little different from everyone else, then gossips are only happy to scratch their tongues and intimidate neighbors. Yes, the appearance of Guillaume le Mouy is ugly, and Bertrand de Gou had no luck with wives. But this is no reason to call their family cursed . Bianchi's religious fanaticism and abstinence are all mixed up in her head. Can the old dwarf be her son? This is just a crazy old man who was taken in by rich relatives out of pity. Son! Wow! What nonsense!
Jane surprised herself. The rare glimmer of consciousness was invaded by the thought that something was wrong with her in this castle. But then a calming wave rolled over her, and she stopped worrying.
She spent the whole day in the library, reading The Romance of the Maiden. When she picked up a book, she was pierced by a thought - this is not Virgil, not Dante, whom she loved as close relatives. And a love-sentimental chivalric novel, which she had not read since childhood. But this thought was followed by another: so what if you haven’t read since childhood? The head, like the body, must rest. And serious things make her very tired. And so the "Romance of the Maiden" lay in front of her, and next to it were several more books on a similar topic. Reading them, Jane brushed away involuntary tears. Sometimes she caught herself thinking that she had not cried for such trifles for a long time. “This is all a wedding and a gloomymok. My nerves can't stand it, - looking away from the book, she thought. - And who said that I should be a stone statue? God gave man the ability to cry and laugh not so that he would cover these abilities with dust. Then it would be blasphemy and disrespect for the gifts of the Heavenly Father.”
Turning a few more pages, Jane slammed the book shut and picked up another. It was a collection of ballads about a beautiful lady. Opening it at random, which was also unusual for her, since she loved to read books from beginning to end, Jane burst into tears almost immediately.
Our herb has a strange effect on your bride,” said Guillaume le Mouy, watching Jane through a slit in the tapestry, as Bertrand quietly approached. - Togo's eyes will turn red.
And what? Afraid of being mistaken for a vampire? She's worse. Our Aunt Claude drank other people's blood until she got a pitchfork in her heart. And that blacksmith did the right thing: there is nothing to wander around the villages on a full moon and scare the peasants. Was it not enough for her those three virgins that she received every month along with pigs and cows?
Guillaume le Muy frowned.
Don't frown, uncle," Bertrand chuckled behind him. “I know that you loved her. After all, I loved her too,” he added meaningfully.
Guillaume le Mouy twitched his ugly shoulder and turned to Bertrand.
Is the seamstress already here?
Imagine, uncle, - Bertrand crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the stone wall. This impudent woman had the audacity to say that she was afraid.
What? Me or you? Or maybe a bride?
No, he is afraid to come to the castle .
Devil. So take her, - he poked at the tapestry. - To her. This Zhavot began to annoy me with its whims.
Her name is Joveta. And she can be accommodating, - Bertrand closed his eyes and smiled lustfully.
Damn bastard! When will you stop? cried Guillaume le Mouy.
Be careful, uncle,” Bertrand said coldly, narrowing his eyes. - How would you not wake up without a head.
Guillaume le Muy frowned at his predatory grin and said more quietly:
How can you not understand. If all this reaches Pope Paul, he will not excommunicate us from the church, like King Henry, he will simply send the Jesuits to us, and they, with the help of the Inquisition, will send us to the stake.
Far from Paul the Third ...
No further than Henry the Eighth was before him. Despite the fact that Luther's religion * draws crowds of people, he was burned at the stake. And he was not a simple monk - a theologian with followers. Philip the Fourth did not regret not only Jacques de Molay, but the entire order. And among the Templars there were very noble families. Gilles de Re, the glorious marshal of the Hundred Years War, an ally of Joan of Arc, who, however, betrayed her, but that's another story. So, he, this beautiful warrior was forced to confess what we are doing, almost without hiding. And do you know how it ended? He was burned alive at the stake.
Why are you croaking, uncle, - Bertrand stretched lazily. - If you believe the legend, then only the thirteenth descendant will not be in trouble. And we are only at the top of the list, in the top ten.
Five or ten, I don't care. I don't believe in legends. I want to live the way I live now. Without fear that some monk in a klobuk or a peasant with an ax would smash my life and my castle to dust.
My lock , " said Bertrand coldly. Don't forget, uncle.
Good, - Guillaume le Mouy grimaced in annoyance. Yours, mine, what's the difference? After all, we are relatives.
More than, - Bertrand laughed. - Our grandmother invented a good joke to prevent Providence from counting generations.
Yes, our grandmother, Catherine de Gou, was something else, - On the gloomy face of Guillaume le Mouy, something like a sly smile flashed. - Despite these ugly growths that popped up on her like mushrooms after rain, she was a frisky old woman. How she whipped the servants before making love to them! The floor was all red with blood.
Imagine, uncle, one liked it.
I remember how, barely breathing, he crawled at her feet and asked her to flog him again.
And she put her huge foot on his penis and said: today you will be of no use. And then, as it should, she pressed on him, so that the poor fellow went into convulsions all over his body. Then he died.
How do you know all this?
Yes, I was in the front row. On that day, my grandmother took my innocence.
Yes? And I thought it was me...
No, uncle. You were later. But what a grandmother was a craftsman!
It was said in the village that she flies to the Sabbath every Friday.
For what? We have no worse place here, - Bertrand grinned, and they both burst out laughing.
So what about this Joveta? asked Guillaume le Mouy, leaning again to the hole in the tapestry.
But nothing. We have girls who will iron and clean the dress. In the end, anyone will do. Don't put off your wedding because of him.
Guillaume le Mouy frowned at his nephew and moved away from the hole. Bertrand took his place.
For some time, the uncle watched his nephew, then quietly left along the stone corridor. Bertrand looked back at him, his lips twisted into a smirk, and he again clung to the hole.
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“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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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Entering, he saw the hostess standing by the fireplace. In her hand was a frighteningly long mouthpiece, at the end of which a cigarette smoldered, spreading a sweet, intoxicating aroma.I don’t understand you, Boris,” she said. - Why was it necessary to hide and eavesdrop if you are a member of the family, and everything will be told to you anyway?However, about Agnia, you fooled me. Boris walked over to the fireplace and took a cigar from a box on the shelf. The flame of the candle danced merrily at the tip. The woman smiled as she puffed out a puff of smoke.You already think we're out of your mind. What if we told you the whole truth right away? You would run and call a psychiatrist here. We don't need more noise today. Boris thought and nodded in agreement.You were talking about guests. Will there be someone else? The woman stepped away from the fireplace and, taking a cigarette out of the holder, put it out in an ashtray on the table.I received a
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The silence was broken by the melodious chime of a clock that stood somewhere in the darkness. The candles had long been extinguished, and only the light of the moon, softly pouring from the window, dispelled the darkness. The clock, having finished cooing, struck eleven.It's time to get up, - Katya said languidly, stretching under a light sheet. The shifted corner revealed Boris's contentedly resting nature.So you can’t see a damn thing, ”he muttered, sitting up on the bed.And what? - Katya jumped off easily and ran barefoot to the door. – Peter! she called. - Light!What are you? - Boris involuntarily covered his penis with a sheet and stared in amazement at Katya. - Cover up! But she did not pay attention to his words, impatiently tapping her bare foot at the door, while the impassive Pierre lit the candles in the room. He walked from one chandelier to another. It seemed that the darkness and twilight did not bother him at all. When he finished with th
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Finally, the forest ended with a clearing, which in turn turned into a small clearing. The outlines of a castle rose on the horizon . Light shone from two windows. The trees creaked ominously in the wind. The road through the clearing led to a high wrought-iron gate that locked a stone fence. When the car pulled up, the gate swung open noiselessly and closed behind her just as silently. After making a semicircle around the dark mass of a flower bed, the flowers of which were difficult to see in the dark, the car stopped in front of a high dark door, which immediately swung open. A tall, gray-haired man in a gray sweater stood in the doorway. Approaching him with a simple luggage, Boris shuddered: on both eyes of the man there were thorns that completely covered the pupils.Welcome to us, - he said in a hollow voice and smiled. His face instantly changed: he looked like a cunning dwarf. Pierre will take your things. A stocky man with a stiff expression stepped out o
