The Bathory Curse (13 page)

“I figured out young that women in our family had
problems, it scared me to death; I had two sisters that my father
killed before my mother begged him for my life. She didn’t
understand, she wasn’t a Bathory. I knew my father loved me, but I
also knew he was dreading the day I would turn bad and he would
have to kill me. I decided I had to do something about it.” She
leaned back and closed her eyes.

The room began to swim and change, Nea realized her
mother was performing some sort of magic. Nea felt her eye lids
force themselves closed, instead of fighting, she sank into her
mother’s memories.

She saw a hazy vision of her mother, young, maybe 11
years old crouched down listening to her father and uncles talking.
Then she was her mother, she could hear her thoughts, feel her
emotions, see everything through her mother’s point of view.

“
Those girls were evil; saw it with my own eyes,”
her favorite uncle Nicolaus said in hushed tones. He had a huge
beard that tickled when he kissed her cheek.

“
Good thing they took themselves out, feel sorry
for the men that married them,” her father, Thomas added.

“
I heard the four of them had a twisted love
relationship, maybe a better thing they are all dead,” her other
uncle, Peter, spouted; he always stank like beer, she didn’t like
him.

“
Should have killed them when they found them,”
Nicolaus snorted.

“
They were only ten; you know he couldn’t, not
since they were all he had left of his favorite son.” Her father
was speaking of one of their cousins. Jenica had only met him and
his family once, but he was really old, much older than her father.
She knew his daughter had died a long time ago and his
granddaughters had died recently, girls only 15 years older than
Jenica was.

“
Makes you a bit worried about Jenica, doesn’t
it,” Peter put in.

“
Jenica is a good girl; you have nothing to worry
about.” Jenica breathed a sigh of relief at her favorite uncle’s
words. Maybe she wasn’t destined to wind up like other women in her
family. She listened; she knew that after the first female cycle
something went wrong in the heads of women in her family.

“
Her mother told me she entered her womanhood
last month.” her father sounded so sad.

“
Take care of her now, before she winds up a
blight on our family like the others.” Jenica wanted to scream and
throw Peter’s drink in his face. She wouldn’t wind up like the
rest!

She slipped away, unseen. She had to do something,
she couldn’t let herself become like all the others. Jenica knew
she was fighting a losing battle though, she could feel something
dark in her chest already, something that wanted her to hurt her
mother on purpose and see what the inside of the family dog looked
like. She knew if she gave in she would be just another warning
tale to other Bathory women.

The memories changed again, this time she saw her
mother about 13 years old, crouched over an animal, a dead dog,
wanting to gag at the smell. As before, one minute she was watching
and the next she WAS her mother.

She had found their beloved pet
dead, from old age, she imagined. The thing had been ancient when
she was a born, she was only surprised the dog hadn’t died much
sooner. She brought out a sharp knife, a book and a writing
utensil.
Nea wanted to gag at the pleased
sensations coming from the memory, wished she could distance
herself as her mother cut open the animal and began to examine it’s
organs.
She drew elaborate pictures and
labeled everything. It took over an hour, fear of getting caught
trickling down her back, but pleased that she was finally getting a
glimpse at the insides of something other than a cooking animal.
After she was done she took a needle and thread and sewed the
animal up and buried him in the hole she had dug. Her parents had
told her she could bury the mutt herself and she didn’t want to lie
to them.

When the memories moved again Nea was better
prepared. This time Nea saw her mother about 14 years old, half
naked astride a man who was not Nea’s father. She tried to look
away a bit disturbed at seeing and feeling her mother’s pleasure as
she rode the young man, sticks digging into her knees from the
forest floor, but it was no use, it was like she was her
mother.

“
I feel a bit strange about this, Jenica,” he
grunted from beneath her, face sweating as she rotated above
him.

“
You shouldn’t. I am doing what I like.” She
panted, increasing her pace.

“
I am supposed to be taking your virginity not
the other way around,” he gasped, eyes rolling back in his head as
he thrust up into her.

“
I took my own virginity, I told you that.” She
leaned forward breasts brushing against his chest.

“
I know, thought it would be weird, but this is…
oh God…” And the man, who had to be at least three years older than
Jenica came, bucking wildly into her. Jenica just smiled, pleased
with herself and rolled off him.

“
Won’t the man you marry be disappointed?” He
asked a few minutes later, “I mean you could marry me I
guess.”

“
I don’t intend to have sex again for a few
years, by then I can fake it.” Jenica said, breathing heavily from
exertion, “and I am leaving here as soon as possible.”

“
Your parents will be sad,” he said, putting away
his flaccid penis.

“
Don’t put it away I intend to use it again,”
Jenica barked.

“
I’m not sure…” he stuttered.

“
You’re fine…and I know they will be. It’s the
worst thing I can think of to do.” Then she leaned over and took
him into her mouth…”

They came out of Jenica’s memories too late for
Nea’s liking, she really hadn’t needed to see or feel that last
recollection.

“You see Nea, I faked being a
virgin for your father and left my beloved parents with no word or
thought to where I had gone;
they never saw me
again
. I didn’t break the curse, it took hold of
me, and I beat it the only way I could, at its own game. My wedding
night with you father was the last purposely malicious thing I’ve
done and it worked.”

There were no words for a few moments. She hadn’t
realized she and her mother had so much in common. Nea had similar
dark thoughts before she became a Strega, but she had used her
husband’s cruelty towards those he battled and her faith to fight
them off. Would she have eventually given in? Nea decided it was
enough darkness for one day. She didn’t know how long she would
have with her mother, so she accepted a cup of tea and found
herself smiling as they began mundane conversation.

Shortly after that Bendis took Nea home. It was
already dark and she found her family sitting around the dinner
table, eating, laughing and talking. The silence that filled the
room upon her approach was tangible. Stasi was the only one who did
not notice it was awkward.

Nea sat down next to her daughter. She had decided
after spending time in the hell that could possibly become her
little girl’s afterlife, she had better tell her the truth.

“Stasi, sweetheart, I have to tell you
something.”

“Serious?” The girl asked, a little frightened by
what she saw on her mom’s face.

“Yes, very serious.”

“Remember how much we all love and care about you,”
Sabine added, realizing what her best friend was about to do.

“And no matter what, nothing changes,” Mihail
assured her.

“I have had you in my keeping since you were only a
few hours old, but you are not from my womb as you know,” Nea began
slowly, Stasi nodded, they had this conversation before.

“Your mother lives in Hungary, her name is Elizabeth
and I am her Godmother.” Nea explained, putting a hand on her
daughter’s shoulder. The girl frowned, a crease in her
forehead.

“You know her? You still talk to her, see her?” she
asked.

“Yes.”

“Does she know I am with you? Why hasn’t she come
see me?”

“She doesn’t know you are alive.”

“What? Why doesn’t she? Did she just throw me away
and never look back? Can we tell her?” Stasi’s voice became higher
pitched with each sentence.

“Stasi, calm. She doesn’t know because your
grandmother was a mean woman and told her you died. Your
grandmother killed your father and would have killed you had Nea
not interceded.” Sabine took the reins on the story seeing the
anxiety in her friend’s face.

“My grandmother was bad…she didn’t want me?” Stasi’s
shoulder’s slumped, tears trickling from her eyes.

“Your mother wanted you, she loved you, she was
heartbroken to hear her baby was dead…she named you herself. She
cannot know you live, she has a family and a life…it would be
traumatizing.” Nea tried to make the words kind, but this sort of
news is almost anything but.

“So, I have sisters or brothers and I can never know
any of them?” Stasi crossed her arms over her chest, tears flowing
down her cheeks, sobs racking her tiny body.

“I am so sorry dear heart, but I love you, you are
my daughter.” Nea hugged her, saddened that Stasi was stiff in her
embrace.

“You lied,” Stasi whispered.

“She didn’t, I have heard her tell you your real
mother loved you and didn’t want to let you go. This is all true,”
Mihail smiled.

“Your family line is mine Stasi, we are related by
blood, but that blood is cursed.” Nea gave the final piece of bad
information.

“Cursed? How? When? What does that mean?” Stasi wept
into her mother’s chest.

“It was so long ago, long before you or me.”

“Your mother is trying to fix the curse, make it go
away.” Sabine stood and came over, kissing the little girl’s head,
“But that is why there are so many bad people in your family.”
Sabine stroked her hair and caught Nea’s eyes. She saw the horror
within them from her trip to Limbo and mouthed “LATER.”

“Like the portrait gallery, those women are all bad,
accept Grandma Jenica,I can tell.” Stasi looked up at Nea, who
could only nod in agreement.

“I don’t want to end up like them.”

“You won’t baby girl, I promise.”

Chapter 8

1598- Hungary

Nea stood in the great hall of Cachtice Castle and
smelled blood. She didn’t want to be there, eight years ago she had
helped bury Gryzelda and mop up a scandal that reinforced the need
to break the curse. By the time Gryzelda was 21 she and her husband
had made a profit by robbing coaches, inns and churches all over
Hungary. They had both been caught by vigilantes and before her
family could pay for her release she had been tied up in the forest
and left for dead. Nea had found her, but was too late.

So she didn’t want to deal with issues that had
risen at Cachtice Castle and her beloved goddaughter Elizabeth. Not
only did it stir up trouble at home, Stasi now insisted on knowing
everything about her biological mother, but it made Nea’s heart
ache to think Elizabeth was falling down the same path as the
rest.

Nea had come to the castle because after years of
hearing nothing but rumors of prosperity from Elizabeth’s people
she could no longer ignore the dark tales being passed along in
whispers. Nor could she ignore the ringing in her soul telling her
a Bathory girl’s curse had been triggered.

Murmurs of unexplained deaths in the castle, of
mothers dressing their daughters like boys when the Countess rode
through towns and refusing to allow them to find work in her
household, even though the money was much better than anywhere
else. Tales that were getting darker with each passing year.

In 1590 when she had attended Orsolya’s blessing she
had noticed one servant in particular that seemed to derive joy
from playing on Elizabeth’s fears of growing old and ugly. She had
tried then to remind Elizabeth about her mother and what happened
to women in their family. Elizabeth had just turned 30 and had
seemed to listen, but Nea could see the strain around her eyes
whenever she looked in a mirror.

In 1594 she had come for the birth of Katalin and
seen bruising and signs of beatings and rape among some of the
female staff. Elizabeth had blamed her husband, who Nea never cared
for and deemed cruel. But Ferencz was never home so Nea had tried
to push past it. She had given Elizabeth instructions to treat her
staff with more care and forbid her husband from such actions.
Everyone knew he bowed down to Elizabeth’s formidable temper. She
had praised her goddaughter’s beauty, in truth she was one of the
most beautiful women in all of Hungary, and hoped that would soothe
things.

Then in 1596 she received message of Andras’ birth,
but was never invited to the castle to bless the babe. Worried he
had not survived she had made a hurried trip, only to find a
healthy baby boy and Elizabeth furious with her showing up
unannounced. While alarmed at a growing temper and fondness for
indulgence, Nea was happy to see both Lizzy’s sisters were in
attendance for the blessing of the first male heir.

She had not expected an invitation to Paul’s
blessing and had been relieved to receive it, though against
Elizabeth bearing any more children. She was even more alarmed at
the fear in the villages she passed through and gossip about
Elizabeth and her husband becoming tyrannical and whispers of
torture at the castle. Convinced it must be jealous blather, she
brushed it off. She blamed her over fondness for Elizabeth, she had
never before ignored her instincts.

Now, however, standing in the stone arch way of the
beautiful castle she could smell the blood and the death. A normal
human wouldn’t have been able to, but she could. Castles usually
had a hidden death smell tinted with old fear, but this was fresh
and quite a lot of it. Dread leaked through the walls and it was
quiet. Servant skittered past as she made her way farther into the
main chambers.