Chapter 10

When Brita and Deirdre got back to camp everyone was relieved. When Konstantin and Jim returned, they were overjoyed. The twins went wild, dancing and singing, kicking up dry autumn leaves with their booted feet until Felix coerced them back into the firelight with a celebratory bag of marshmallows. Even the stoic Naoise gave Konstantin a small nod of acknowledgment.

“What in the world was that creature?” Brita asked.

“Siberian tiger,” Felix explained. “During the dark times, or what you call the Judgment, when humanity left these lands, the old flora and fauna returned. I don’t know whether these are the descendents of animals that were raised in captivity, in zoos and private households, or whether the populations of wild creatures remaining in the Far East have grown to such an extent that their territories now extend this far. However it occurred, it is clear that in only one generation the world has done much to erase the results of mankind’s centuries of expansion. I can promise you that one tiger, or a pride of lions, or a handful of bears will be the least of our worries by the time we reach our destination.”

Brita rubbed her slender hands together nervously. “Lions and tigers and bears? Oh my.”

Deirdre signaled for Felix from her nest of sleeping bags beside the fire. When he approached she snagged the hem of his jacket, pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear. He stood up abruptly, giving her an unhappy look. She grinned, waving him away imperiously.

Muttering to himself, he rooted through her saddle bags for a time. Locating the object of his search he stood and stomped over to Konstantin. The long-haired northerner gave the ragged Inquisitor the stink-eye. Konstantin raised an eyebrow.

Felix gave a long-suffering sigh. “Raise your hands.”

“No.”

“Don’t be a jackass Konstantin; I’m taking off your chains.”

“Oh. Here,” Konstantin allowed the man to remove the heavy binders. Naoise grunted from where he was unrolling his and Deirdre’s bedding, noticing his younger brother’s actions.

“Felix, what the hell?”

“Ask your wife man, I’m just doing what she told me.”

Snorri gave a bleat of disbelief.

“Relax boys,” Deirdre cut in, “If dear Frederick was going to give us trouble, he would have already done so, don’t you think?” They shrugged, unconvinced. “Where is he going to go? Like it or not, we’re the closest thing to allies he has at the moment.”

“He is an Inquisitor!”

“Not a very good one,” Deirdre countered drolly. “We’re all still free aren’t we? If he does anything…reckless, I will know of it.” Crows shuffled in the surrounding trees. She met the ragged prisoner’s eye. “As Felix said, where we are going there will be many dangers. I need every man I can get. I trust I am not making a mistake releasing you.”

Konstantin stared at the woman that had until recently been his most frustrating quarry. He ground his teeth. He looked at Brita. He looked at the twins. He looked at his boots. He sighed. Why did God feel the need to test him at every turn?

“I go with Brita. As long as I believe you can provide her with the help she needs, I will not interfere. You have my word.” He looked at the supine figure of the driver. The fool’s newly restored face wore an idiotic grin as he gave the dour Inquisitor the thumbs up. The reconstruction had been miraculous, but not perfect. Puffy scars stood out in angry lines across his chin and cheek. His nose looked like it had glued back on crooked.

Konstantin rolled his eyes. “Lord, give me strength.”

Come Frederick William Konstantin, let me show you your bedroll.

One of the twins tugged insistently at his soiled coat. Whether Hrist or Mist, he could not tell. She showed him the worn sleeping bag he had been assigned. Scanning the area around the warm fire, he dragged it beside Brita’s, placing himself between her and Felix. As he lay down the big northerner glared from his previously prime position. Konstantin grunted, turning on his side to face his sister. She grinned sleepily at him from her insulated cocoon, the trials of the day already pulling her under. In a matter of minutes she was breathing deeply and evenly.

Konstantin tilted his head, staring into the fire. He could hear Deirdre gently shushing the girls, whose giggles leaked periodically out into the chill night from the small tent they inhabited. He could see Naoise’ broad shape through the flames as the gruff man sat dutifully, keeping watch. He rolled onto his back. A small patch of sky was visible through the dense column of trees surrounding them. The stars were beautiful.

***

Inquisitor-Brother Solomon Rex irritably adjusted the bandages across his shoulders. He was wasting his time. It was clear the fugitives had left the city days ago. He envied them that. Munich was a filthy, undisciplined place. Rex pulled on the leash in his hand. The boy stopped rooting through the rubbish filled basement and obediently loped back to the Inquisitor’s side. He moved with a strange shuffling gate, remaining hunched over until his knuckles sometimes brushed against the dusty ground. Reaching the large man he nuzzled in close, leaning against Solomon’s thick leg. Not once did his gaze rise from the pavement. Solomon patted his skinny back in approval. The child remained still, not flinching when the Inquisitor’s heavy hand brushed the spider web of cuts covering his filthy shoulders. His training had been harsh, but to Rex’s eye the results had already proven most rewarding.

“Come child. I want to visit the North Gate again. I have a feeling the men there know more than they have admitted about our missing friends.”

***

There was a noise. Konstantin crept through the dark forest, his muscles tensed in anticipation. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill night air. Pushing aside a low-hanging branch he crept stealthily toward where he had heard the telltale crackling of twigs. He could see the fog of his breath in the silver moonlight. A dark blur moved in the periphery of his vision. Diving into a roll his hands snatched for his holstered pistols. Too late he remembered surrendering them to Felix.

“Acting a little excitable, aren’t we Mr. Konstantin?”

Konstantin slowed his desperate evasion. He knew that sultry voice.

“Raven. I heard something a moment ago.” He stood, brushing twigs and leaves off of his soiled coat.

“There is no one out here but us Mr. Konstantin.” She was standing uncomfortably close. “And I told you before, my friends call me Deirdre.”

Konstantin shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not…”

Before he could finish his argument she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling herself tight against him. Turning her head up, her hot wet lips met his with a forceful urgency. Her body was soft and firm in all the right places. Konstantin groaned past her full lips until, caught up in the passion, he wrapped his strong arms around her intoxicating warmth. The Inquisition was nominally a chaste order, but he was a young man, and bridled with all of a young man’s desires. Pressed together in mutual need they sank down into the fallen leaves carpeting the forest floor and…

Konstantin woke with a startled gasp. Looking across the embers of the fire he could see the outline of the witch’s body snuggled close to her husband. With shaking hands he opened his dog-eared bible, searching for comfort in the familiar passages.

“Bad dreams buddy?” The irrepressible James was awake again.

“Horrible Driver, horrible.”

***

They had been travelling for days. Konstantin found the incessant plodding motion of his horse torturous. Compounding the discomfort, Elvis had proven to be chronically distrusting of his new rider, and was doing his best to lose him against any conveniently placed branch or rock formation. As far as Konstantin could tell, Brita had never ridden before, yet she seemed to be getting along with her mount swimmingly.

Even through his discomfort, Konstantin could not help but notice the savage beauty of the wilderness surrounding them. Whenever they passed a remnant of human civilization still stubbornly standing against the spreading forest, he felt a distant stirring of anger at the alien object.

By the time they stopped to make camp in the evenings, Konstantin was a wretched, frazzled mess, whose foul mood had alienated him yet further from a group which he knew barely tolerated his presence to begin with. That was fine with him. He was used to being alone. He was sick and tired of being sick and tired though. After each long day of riding he hobbled through his duties setting up camp, sore in places he had never known existed until they began hurting. He had blisters on his rear the size of silver dollars, and adding insult to injury nobody else seemed so adversely affected by their mode of transportation. In fact, nearly everyone’s spirits had been rising of late, probably in direct correlation to the distance they gained moving away from Church lands. It is easier to laugh and joke and enjoy the simple things in life when you don’t feel the need to keep looking over your shoulder for bad guys. Deirdre even had the poor manners to give him a teasing smack on his aching bottom whenever he limped past.

Of small conciliation to the miserable Inquisitor was the fact that Snorri was even less comfortable. The abrasive northerner had contracted some sort of stomach illness, and spent his riding time sweating and groaning. Every few hundred yards he would desperately boot his horse off to the side of the trail and crash into the bushes fumbling with the buttons of his pants, to the amusement of his friends. At night he lay next to the fire shivering and mumbling to himself as Brita dutifully kept him nourished with a weak broth. Deirdre could have probably eased his discomfort with some of her magic, but he was still out of favor amongst his friends after his poor showing against Konstantin in Munich.

Konstantin dumped his latest bundle of sticks beside the fire. This evening they had stopped in the remains of an old factory, its interior long ago gutted by fire. All that remained of the once great structure were crumbling outer walls of stone and concrete, never rising more than two stories. In places, trees had sprouted through the floor, rising toward the open sky.

When the time came to cook dinner, Deirdre had decided against chopping down this convenient timber, instead opting to send the Inquisitor out for dead wood. To retrieve a sufficient amount of burnable fuel, Konstantin had been forced to enter the surrounding forest by clambering up and down the shifting piles of rubble bordering the largest cracks in the wall. His return was hampered further by heavy armloads of sticks and bark.

Favoring Deirdre with a glare he grouched over to where his sister now was sitting with the twins. The girls waved cheerily at him as he approached. As likable as they were, he could not bring himself to wave back. He had seen little of Brita in recent days, she always seemed to be off somewhere with the dark skinned witch. He glared at the woman again, wondering what trouble the two were getting into.

His ruminations were interrupted by the inevitable arrival of Jim. The American had attached himself to Konstantin like a leech since the incident with the tiger. Not for the first time, Konstantin questioned his decision to save the man. His friendship was proving to be an onerous burden for the solitary Inquisitor. The chatterbox American tossed Konstantin a small jar.

“Hey buddy, I’ve got something I think you’ll appreciate. Yes sir, this will put a twinkle in your eye and a bounce in your step.”

“What is it?”

“Just some lotion. You know, for your bum. Don’t worry though, it will callus up soon and you’ll be sitting pretty.”

Konstantin grimaced. “How delightful.”

Nodding his grudging thanks he pocketed the lotion. Doing his best to ignore the man rambling beside him he squatted gingerly next to the boisterous twins. The girls were cute, but they made him uncomfortable. If he had the capacity to really examine his feelings, he would be surprised to realize that it wasn’t their powers that made him feel this way. He just didn’t know how to deal with kids. He was irritated to see that Brita was playing cards with them, but he supposed it was alright since it was not gambling. The girls always won. Even with their eyes blinded they seemed to know exactly what cards their opponent held every time.

Hello Frederick William Konstantin

“Hello Mist.”

I’m Hrist! She’s Mist.

“Sorry.”

Brita laughed, “Don’t fret, even Deirdre gets it wrong sometimes, and she’s known the girls since she found them at that old farmhouse outside Campobasso when they were infants.”

Konstantin grabbed her arm. “Near Campobasso? She told you that?” he hissed, his face white.

Brita pulled on his steely fingers, trying to pry them from her smooth limb. “Fred, you’re hurting me. I just said that Deirdre sometimes confuses the girls too, and she has been raising them since they were infants.”

Konstantin’s reaction had drawn attention. Deirdre was looking from the twins to Konstantin and back. She clearly did not like the conclusions she was drawing. Storming over to the haggard looking Inquisitor she poked a manicured nail firmly into the center of his chest.

“What do you know?” She demanded. “What do you know about that farmhouse?”

Konstantin lowered his head into his hands, bracing them against his bent knees.

“I was there,” He whispered.

Inquisitor-Brother Frederick Konstantin bowed his head in acknowledgment. “His will be done.”

Dismissed by Father Clement, he carried the squirming bundles back upstairs, afraid of what he must do, and afraid of what it would mean if he didn’t. Stepping gingerly over the gory remains of the man he had shot, he entered the room where the women had hidden. It was a simple bedroom, with a neatly made bed and a plain dresser. On the wall was a small circle of embroidered fabric lined with pastel flowers. In the center of the scrap a prayer was written. Konstantin read it. May the Lord continually bless you with heaven’s blessings as well as with human joys. He closed his eyes. The Lord had clearly forsaken this house. Praying for guidance he gently lowered his tiny cargo onto the bed. Removing his gun he slowly reloaded it. The two babies had grown still and were sleeping peacefully, one with a thumb planted firmly in her small mouth. Crossing himself Konstantin took aim. With a prayer for the little one’s souls he pulled the trigger.

The gun jammed. Staring at his disobedient weapon, Konstantin let out a deep breath. Raising his eyes from the small occupants of the bed toward heaven, he thanked God for watching over his own. Walking from the room, he quietly shut the door on the slumbering infants. Aiming his weapon at the dead man on the ground he pulled the trigger again. The dark hallway filled with the gun’s loud retort. He pulled the trigger again. Again the gun fired, filling the corridor with a flash and the wet thump of the bullet burying itself in the dead body. Holstering his weapon Konstantin hurried down the stairs to rejoin his mentor. Behind the closed door the noise of the gun had awakened the babies. Blind eyes stared out into the darkness.

“You bastard!” Deirdre began punching and kicking the squatting Inquisitor. “It was you! You killed their family and left them to die!”

Konstantin did nothing to defend himself, allowing her to vent her anger. Not even Jim or Brita moved to stop the assault. Help came from an unexpected source. Moving between the irate woman and her target, Hrist and Mist wrapped Konstantin in their little arms.

Deirdre, stop it! Frederick William Konstantin saved us! He might be guilty of many terrible crimes, but our death isn’t one of them!

Ignoring the uncomfortable burn of their barely restrained magic Konstantin gathered the girls to him in a desperate hug. Rocking back and forth, Inquisitor-Brother Frederick Konstantin held the small witches close.

“I am so sorry little ones. One day I will pay for my sins, not the least being what I did to your family. Until then I will do everything in my power to make it up to you, I swear it.”

***

Eventually Deirdre calmed down enough to allow the Inquisitor to stand. Gathering the twins protectively she brought them to sit with her and Naoise where they were talking with the other men around the fire. Giving her brother a sad look, Brita joined them.

Shunned, Konstantin departed the circle of firelight, seeking refuge in solitude. Moving away from the factory ruins he rooted around half-heartedly with his boot in the detritus covering the forest floor. Periodically his scuffing would expose an acorn or mushroom, which he promptly brushed off on his already dirty jacket and popped into his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, Konstantin sent a silent lament to God, asking for guidance. Like usual, he received no overt answer, but like usual, the act of prayer soothed his roiling thoughts. It could do nothing for his roiling stomach however.

As he was shuffling through the quiet forest, nature summoned. Remembering the jar of lotion in his coat pocket he decided to kill two birds with one stone, and dropping his trousers began dabbing experimentally at the blisters on his rear. It was at that moment that the men hiding in the trees attacked.