The Bathory Curse (21 page)

Renata and Marina had been offered and accepted
immortality and were a permanent part of her entourage, they had
both become invaluable members of her staff and family. Especially
Renata, as Costica’s actions were akin to a modern day stalker.

She had spent the last 182 years between Scotland,
Ireland and England roaming and learning. She had been to see
Celtic leaders, and Witch High Priestess, even the Druids to gain
curse breaking information. None of it had worked. She had helped
the Jacobite invasion of Scotland fail in 1702; she and Sabine even
participated in the Scotland Malt Riots of 1725. She spent several
years in Ireland learning Gaelic and then in 1800 was there for the
United Irish Uprising.

She enjoyed England best, but got easily tired of
their prim and proper ways. Her current home was in London and she
had grown bored. While she was in the Underworld, Stasi and her
household were packing up and heading for a seaside village where
she had bought a little villa. She was craving peace and quiet.
London, for all its marvels, was smelly, loud and full of busy
people.

She stood against the wall
watching as Klara and Zsofia walked by. Bendis told her they spent
most of their time together. Klara had been a blackmailer, but she
had still died of old age, but alone and locked away. She looked
like she had the last time Nea saw her, in her forties, still
healthy and pretty in her own way. She took care of Zsofia who
spent her afterlife mourning the loss of her daughter Borbala. Even
though now she could see her whenever she wanted
they spent
no time together
.
Zsofia
was forever in a depression, made deeper with the knowledge that
her son and husband were not in the afterlife with her and Borbala
had almost no memories of her.

Zsofia was weak, pale with lines crisscrossing her
wrists that forever oozed with blood. There was a sword wound that
wouldn’t heal in her gut from Costica. Neither woman would speak to
anyone but each other, though sometimes they went down into the
cellar to try and make sense of Elizabeth’s ramblings.

Elizabeth’s daughter Anna, was normally found
downstairs laughing and drinking with her grandmother, high as a
kite.  When they had first arrived Nea had been appalled,
seeing her chummy with her namesake had been like a punch in the
gut. She knew Anna had become an alcoholic before she was thirty
and died of liver failure. The alcoholism had caused her to be
neglectful and both her infant sons had died as a result. She was
very thin with stringy hair, a bulbous nose and skin as yellow as
the sun. Her grandmother had taught her all about the vices to be
had in the future and so little Anna was an afterlife drug
addict.

“Do you hear that?” Bendis asked.

“The praying?” Nea nodded, they could hear fervent
and desperate prayers from a room down the hall. The door never
opened and the occupant never came out. Barbola was in there. She
had grown up well in the convent; she had married and become a wife
and mother, to the outside world a prominent figure in society.
However, under it all Borbala had been a religious zealot. She had
punished her children with beatings and ice baths, given women up
as witches for the slightest indiscretion and used religion like a
crutch. Now she stayed in her room, in a religious fervor,
convinced she was in hell and the other women demons. She had
attacked several of them; she stabbed Catharine in the eye with a
crucifix before boarding herself up in her room.

“I thought being with the church would save her. It
looks like it damned her as much as the rest,” Nea sighed.

“Of course, it’s what the curse does; it twists the
good in them and makes them act out every deep dark thought.”
Bendis closed her eyes, the Goddess appeared tired and she wasn’t
even the crone that day.

“Where is Katalin?” Nea asked, glancing around the
hall, they had checked the bedrooms, they were all currently
empty.

“Did you check her closet?”

“Oh Goddess…” Nea darted to the girl’s room and went
over to the closet, softly and carefully she opened it. Inside
Katalin was hanging, neck snapped, limp like a doll, it smelled of
feces and urine and her eyes were bulging out. Katalin had been
hung at the age of 30 after they found out she had killed three
husbands. She was pretty normal compared to some of the other women
she lived with, but every day at the same time she was compelled to
hang herself and relive her death. Bendis told Nea about it, but
she hadn’t seen it yet. Nea covered her mouth with her hand,
gagging while Bendis pulled her from the room.

“How does she get down from there?” Nea asked after
catching her breath.

“Anna will be up here soon and cut her down, in a few
hours she will revive like nothing happened.”

“Why Anna?”

“Even here they are close as they were alive.”

“Wait, where is Orsolya?” Nea had not even thought
about her, she had died at 20 and long before much of the other
drama had gone down.

“She spends her days with Gryzelda. They both seem
to find comfort in the dirt and the plants.”

“When did you start letting them go outside?”

“When Orsolya died I extended their confinement to a
yard and green house.” Bendis said. Nea glanced out, behind the
house was a seven foot stone wall that stretched about two acres,
there was a small green house, a pond and a table and chairs as
well as abundant plant life;.

Nea could see two figures outside talking. Orsolya
looked like she always had a young plumper version of her mother,
she sat at a crooked angle, and when she stood up she walked a
little funny. Nea watched as Gryzelda handed her a cane. Gryzelda
was thin, with sunken cheeks, her skin was red and raw, her hair
matted, lips parched and peeling. She was as she had been when Nea
had found her, exposed to the elements.

“They garden together; Gryzelda is obsessive to the
point of madness. Orsolya hadn’t really been affected by the curse,
aside from the incident with her horse, so she spends most of her
time in pain and confused.” Bendis voice was slightly choked up; it
made Nea remember that somehow Bendis had a personal stake in all
this.

“Do they ever go see Lizzy?” Nea asked, speaking of
Anna, Orsolya and Katalin.

“No, they blame her for most of this. Besides, all
that comes from Elizabeth is the ramblings of a mad woman,
nonsense. What does come out coherently is so horrible the other
women are offended.”

“That says a lot.”

“Yes, it does. Come, you should see your mother
now.” Bendis led her up the stairs and reminded her of the rule not
to speak to Mariska. Nea went inside.

As always Jenica was happy and sad to see her
daughter. Mariska, used to Nea’s presence, jumped and danced around
clapping her hands.

“Nothing?” Jenica handed her daughter some chamomile
tea.

“Nothing; everything I try fails.” Nea leaned back
against the sofa, the warmth from the tea cup seeping into her
hands.

“A granddaughter who is not a granddaughter! Alive
who isn’t alive! She is the key and she comes!” Mariska sang out,
coming to sit near Nea’s feet.

“You think she means Stasi?” Jenica asked quietly,
not wanting to upset Mariska.

“It’s all I have been able to figure out, Stasi’s
child would be a granddaughter but not really…the problem is I
don’t think a Strigoi can get pregnant, not without some serious
magic.”

“Though if she did would the child be alive but
not?” Jenica pondered.

“Yes, I think so…Stasi has taken over that part of
the riddle because it has to do with her. Now that she is Strigoi
the counter curse no longer effects her.”

“What about the other half?”

“I am still no closer at finding who placed the
curse than I was 50 years ago.”

“Have you considered the worst?” Jenica’s voice
lowered to a whisper as Mariska grabbed her doll and went to play
near the window.

“That Bendis cast the curse? Yes, but why would she?
Why spend the rest of her existence trying to break it? How would
we fix a curse a Goddess cast?”

“Flowers of golden blood spilled. Where the deer
lost its life by a God’s son.” Mariska said, looking up from her
doll clear eyed.

“What was that darling?” Jenica asked, warily.

“Shouldn’t speak of God killing, shouldn’t mess with
the Gods at all. But flowers of golden blood spilled will do it for
you.” She blinked a few times and went back to her toys.

“Another enigma.” Nea felt resigned.

“A clue, take it back with you and see what you can
find.” Jenica suggested. “Now sit and gossip while we drink tea,
relax with me.”

Nea spent another hour of so with her mother before
heading back to the world trying to decipher how she was to find a
place where a God’s son killed a deer and left flowers where golden
blood spilled.

When she got home she saw that there was still a
flurry of packing and rushing around being done, the manor in
London wasn’t large, but like anything it was a daunting task to
move a whole household. Something that Nea made her staff do every
ten to twenty years.

“Mihail is here to see you.” Marina said, coming
around the corner holding a box. She still no different physically
then when she had first arrived; 35 years old, tall and thin, she
had chosen to keep the gray in her black hair, which lay in a long
braid to her hips. She was still allowed to go to her own era for
vacation, but not cross her own time line. She always came back
singing the most ridiculous songs and with new weird clothing she
could only wear around the house.

“Thanks, anything else come while I was away?” Nea
asked, a dark cloud seemed to pass over Marina’s features.

“Talk to Renata.” Was all she would say as she
walked away.

Renata had an office near the library; Nea knocked
at the door and went in.

“Marina told me you needed to speak to me?”

“Not really, just to tell you I disposed of a
mangled cat while you were gone. It had a bow and a rather sweet
card attached.” Renata didn’t even emerge from the book she was
poring over. She was an overweight woman in her late twenties with
long curling black hair she always wore in a bun, peach colored
skin covered in freckles and warm brown eyes.

“Well, that’s interesting, it’s been about five or
ten years since that happened, I thought Costica had died or found
someone else to obsess over.” Nea came further into the room.

“He probably has a new woman he is stalking, but
that doesn’t mean he has forgotten about you. He hasn’t sent a gift
or note here in a while, but he still managed to kill two male
Strigoi in the past ten years.” Renata finally looked up at her
through golden spectacles, combined with the traditional black and
grey embroidered linen dress, she was dressed quite matronly.

“I know, Afrin and Afina have been in hiding for a
century, Antal moved to the New World to escape him, Erdely is dead
and Kato and Zamfira are in constant protective mode over Ion.
Ruxandra has attached herself to Sabine’s side and when she tires
of that Mihail introduced her to her grandfather and apparently
they get on well. Only Imre remains truly faithful, which is
strange.” Nea sat down at a chair next to one of Renata’s many book
shelves. She had a handful of other Strigoi but they were all women
and spaced sporadically around Europe.

“They are
all
faithful, you see them each once
a year,” Renata commented.

“Yes, they come disguised, stay long enough for me
to feed and run out of here like the hounds of hell are after
them.”

“Do you blame them? They are powerful beings and in
more than 200 years something has hunted them down. This isn’t what
they signed up for when they became Strigoi.” Renata was always
blunt.

“No, I guess not. Have you any idea where to find
Costica? Sabine and I want to hunt again.”

“He will find you for some sort of final showdown,
hunting him is pointless.” That was the end of the discussion.

Nea left and went to find Mihail and Stasi. She
embraced her son as soon as she saw him across the room. He held on
tightly, having missed his mother.

“This place is different than the last place,” he
said, motioning to the rich indulgence of the manor house.

“It came like this, I didn’t decorate it,” Nea
laughed, “it has suited its purpose.”

“When I got your letter about moving, I knew I
should come at once.” Mihail said. Stasi had slid up behind him and
put an arm around his waist. Nea frowned at this but said
nothing.

“Why what’s happened?”

“Father has hired a solicitor; he has aims to move
to England.”

“I can’t see where that should be a problem.
Transylvania hasn’t had need of his protection in years, he and
those harpies he calls brides are probably bored.” Nea waved a
hand, this wasn’t her problem.

“I think it is. He has something planned, the
solicitor already arrived and things didn’t go well while I was
there…The man was too paranoid and father too sadistic. I don’t
think father plans on letting him survive the trip. He wants
something here in England, he’s been very mysterious,” Mihail
warned.

“Where is he going?”

“Purfleet, by way of Whitby. He should have been
here yesterday.”

“Mama, that’s where we are headed!” Stasi
exclaimed.

“Again, not surprising, but he can’t bring those
women with him. They will eat the entire town in one tantrum. Why
didn’t you come to me with this sooner?” Nea frowned, walking over
to a cart and pouring herself a brandy.

“I was with those harpies as you call them, they
refused to leave their home and father asked me to stay with them
for the first week after he left. It’s a good thing I did too.”