Dark
and deadly… you have never seen…
Death
stalks down the street with burning eyes of sapphire blue… hair a raven cloak
shrouding broad shoulders. Mysterious darkness emanated from him as he moved
and electric magnetism drew the eyes of many…
Six
feet tall he stood in black leather boots as he stopped and turned to cast a
furtive glance behind him… eyes searching, always searching for the one thing
that could quench his thirst… his desire… his burning need… it was here…
finally he’d found her again…
The
last thing Beth thought to find when she looked up from the cash register was
the six foot tall body of her husband. A soft cry escaped her throat and she
lifted both hands to her thick mahogany hair where they lay bundled behind her
head.
“Jacobeth.”
He breathed and she swallowed the urge to let out another small cry. “How did
you find me Nikolai?” She managed to ask and scanned the room for a possible
escape route, although she already knew there was none, not from him, not this
time.
“I
followed my… heart.” But he had no heart…
“Meet
me in the alley outside. I will not run…” He knew she wouldn’t and nodded
quietly, turned and left as soundlessly as he’d come. How was it that he still
moved without making a sound…
Nikolai
was leaning against the wall when she stepped out and as she had been for the
past five hundred years she was yet again struck by his strange, but cruel
beauty. There was something about his mouth that lured her, and she was
powerless against him… powerless…
“Jacobeth.”
He stated easily in his deep resonant voice and she felt goose bumps appear
across her entire body. Was it pleasure of fear that caused them?
“Please,
call me Beth at least. No one has called me Jacobeth for… well since I sort of…
you know… ran away. How did you find me?” It was a burning question and she
knew it had nothing to do with his heart. He had no heart and if he had it was
black as night.
“I
am a hunter, and you were prey. I would not have stopped looking for you… ever.
Where is the child?” Beth shuddered again and swallowed deep. “She died an old
woman. She did not have the gift Nikolai… she was not immortal. I envy her
death. It was so quiet…” A fleeting moment of intense loss travelled through
his eyes and then he looked away.
“Why
did you take her? She was mine too. I have often wondered if she resembled you…
it kept me looking.”
This
time she had no words. There was no way to explain what had welled up inside
her at his words. The night she’d fled she’d known he’d never stop looking for
them, but somehow she’d hoped he’d just find another wife.
“You
were a monster… Nikolai… you had the devil in your soul and you were going to
harm us sooner or later. I couldn’t stay.” That was true he had to agree, but
it was such a long time ago.
She
knew in the deepest part of her soul that if he reached out his arms to her now
she would not be able to resist him… she could not.
“Beth.”
Someone said behind her and she turned to find the manager of the bar, Toby,
behind her looking uneasy.
“Are
you all right out here?” She just nodded and tried a smile. “I’m fine. Look can
I leave early tonight? I have some things to take care of.” Toby let his eyes
touch the tall dark stranger and he just nodded. “Sure.” The screen door closed
and with a sigh Beth slung her bag across her red t-shirt covered shoulder and
started down the alley.
He
was following; she knew… she could feel his presence in every fiber of her
being.
It
wasn’t far to her apartment and they walked there in virtual silence. Beth
noticed the looks he was getting and smiled to herself. A Viking berserker
couldn’t have drawn more attention than her tall husband.
It
had always been like that. Always…
500
Years earlier
Jacobeth
curled herself into a ball in the alley between two dockside drinking holes and
tried to make herself as small as possible. To her dirty chest she clutched the
cloth bag that held the few shillings she had been able to buy with her body,
but she’d had enough of drunken stinking sailors tonight… enough.
The
sound of steel caught her attention and she hazarded a look around the corner.
Two men were hacking away at each other and she stood in awe as her gaze rested
on the bigger of the two fighters.
He
was immense she thought; and the bulk of his black armor only added to his
brawn. He felled the other man easily and then turned to look at her… straight
at her… as if he’d known she was there all the time…
Afraid
she ducked back into the alley and grasped her belly as torturing pain ripped
up her insides. Then he was there beside her, crouching down to touch a dirty
cheek gingerly.
“What
is your name pretty?” He breathed and the three dimensional resonance of his
voice left her breathless.
“Jacobeth.”
She answered with a whimper and he grinned slowly. “My bed is in need of
warming. Do you come?” Biting her lower lip she nodded against her will and
better judgment and took the large gloved hand.
He
led her to a large ship that lay in anchor in the harbor. “The Kurgan
Chained
to the walls, she noticed as they reached the interior of the ship, were women
of all ages, some in rags and some newly clothed, but they all shared a dull
look in their eyes as they watched her walk by disinterestedly.
“Slaves
to be sold.” The dark man boomed in a strange rich voice as he noticed the
stray of her doe brown eyes. “All slaves bought and sold… but not you pretty.
You are special.” They’d reached the very back of the ship by now and she was
pushed into a small anteroom with a curt word.
“Another
girl for the slaughter?” A creaking old voice asked and Jacobeth made to leave
the room, but a strong hand held her back. “I have no wish to harm you, my
child. He left you here to be cleaned. He cannot abide filth and you are
covered in it.”
That
was true she had to agree and without any protestation at all she allowed the
old woman to bathe and dress her and shave her… it was heaven to be so clean...
“Go
into the door opposite. Captain Nikolai will be there.” Jacobeth did what she
was told and touched a hand to the soft silk chemise she was now wearing.
Nikolai
she thought with a shiver. So that was his name…
Present
day
The
apartment was small and somehow with him in it, it seemed even smaller. “You
are still pretty.” Sighing deeply she flopped into the kitchen chair and
watched as he sat down opposite.
“Was
it really that awful being my wife?" That was a daunting question… being
in his arms had made it all worthwhile, and then he left her and she’d woken
from a dream into the harsh reality of his life.
He
was a slave trader that took women from their homes. Stole them from the
street, chained them and then sold them for profit. It was not above him to
rape and whip the ones he’d taken if he fancied… he was a monster that didn’t
mind killing for no reason.
He
was also an immortal with a relentless thirst to kill others of his kind… and
she was of his kind and so might be their child… how could she allow him to
kill them when the time came?
“Yes.
It was… and it wasn’t… let’s not talk of those days now? What do you do now?”
He frowned. “I do not work sweet wife. I let others do that… I still have my
fortunes amassed from the old days. This is stupid, Jacobeth… all I want to do
is…” He stopped, not sure how to continue.
“But
I am not that monster anymore. When you left with the child… I banished it.
Jacobeth… just take my hand…” There was no way she could resist she realized
and reached out with a shivering sigh.
“Nikolai…
how do you do this? In five hundred years I have never been with another man.”
His fingers closed around hers tightly and he lowered his head as their
life-force again mingled and engulfed them both.
They
drifted into each other’s arms and the love that followed filled her with such
desire that as she lay cradled spent to his chest her heart did not falter its
maddening staccato, and her lips still yearned for his pressed close… it was
not natural…
500
Years ago…
Jacobeth
lay quietly clasped against his wide chest, listening to the slow rise and fall
of his breath… what had made her do this… what had made her come in here…
Powerful
arms curled around her possessively and pulled her closer against him as if he
loathed loosing the warmth of her skin. He had been so gentle…? She had not
expected tenderness…
Very
slowly she tilted her head back and her eyes traced the line of the thick scar
that slit across his throat. What would have been the cause of such a monstrous
wound, and how had he managed to survive? Tenderly she pressed her warm lips
against the scar and smiled when he let his head fall back a inch, exposing
more of his throat, but he didn’t wake up, and with a sigh she pressed her
cheek to his chest.
His
skin was pale as silk and blue veined she found. This thought made her frown.
Surely the Captain of a ship would be exposed to the sun relentlessly on the
high seas? Why wasn’t even a part of him sun burned and copper?
His
hair was thick and as black as midnight and hung to his shoulders in tousled
disarray. It would be no small task to brush the snags from them, but she would
do it gladly if he’d but ask.
Would
he send her away if he woke? Like all the others would he press a coin in her
hand and forget about her? How could she go back to her life after having
experienced this man… she could never lie with another, not even if starvation
threatened…
A
loud knock resounded into the room and Nikolai was instantly awake. “Come!” He
bellowed and the first mate appeared around the door, his burly unwashed form
bringing the stench of the sea with it.
“Captain.
The tide is high and we need the order to set sail.” Carefully he dislodged her
blushing body and sat up, running a hand through the hair she’d just admired.
“Set
out. I will be up shortly.” With that the other man left and Nikolai turned his
attention back to the girl lying prone beneath the single cover, her eyes wide
as she stared at the bulkhead above.
“You
will stay with me.” Her eyes flew to his and she bit her lower lip to hide a
smile. “Until I tire of you.” Her smile faded and she just nodded, resigned to
her life. Maybe tomorrow she would be dead… why had she not expected cruelty…
it was all she knew…
“They
will be worth nothing sick and underfed.” Jacobeth felt bold enough to venture
two days into the journey. “Are you going to tell me how to handle the slaves
now girl?” Lowering her eyes she shook her head and then remembered the comb in
her hands.
“No…
I do not presume… will you let me brush…” Her voice drifted off at the look in
his eyes that could easily have been mistaken for tenderness. Was it?
“Will
you let me wash and brush your hair? It is a small thanks for… all this.” Not
sure what to do with her hands now she folded them behind her back and
attempted a faint smile.
“What
makes you think you will not be sold at the market?” The words were meant to
cut and they did, but she just shook her head and lowered her dark eyes to the
ground.
“I…
I do not presume to think otherwise, Captain. Yet… for this small time you have
treated me well, and I am clean and fed and… dressed not in rags. If I were to
be… sold, it might still be better than where I had been… for the first time in
my entire life I do not retch and gag after having laid with a man. This is
bliss.”
Some
small part of the dark Captain that hadn’t been demolished yet was able to
shine through and she saw real tenderness.
“I
will accept the thanks you propose to give.” His voice sounded less harsh, and
the resonant notes slipped across her like balm. Maybe she had won some small
battle here.
After
having acquired a rough towel and soap and water Jacobeth set about her task
with shaking hands, but as soon as she slipped her hands into the wet mass she
managed to relax, and to her delight she felt him relax as well…
“Do
you sing Jacobeth?” He breathed and she laughed softly. “My mother did say I
could carry a tune fairly well.” Deftly
she let her fingers soap his thick hair and smiled when his eyes closed. “Sing
then.” His voice came out a hoarse whisper and she obliged, letting the long
forgotten melody and words fill her mind until they spilled from her mouth in a
soft lilting harmony that relaxed the giant man even further.
With
a sigh she rinsed his hair until not a shred of soap remained and then set
about drying and combing the thick mass.
“You
do have a good voice…” He managed to whisper as her fingers and the soothing
motion of the comb lulled him into a deep dreamless sleep. When he sagged into
the chair she smiled to herself and kept combing until his hair was dry and
gleaming in the lamplight.
Night
had fallen outside…
The
present
Nikolai
was sitting on the balcony in the early morning sun, his hair shrouding bare
shoulders as he stared down at his large bent hands. Inside was the suitcase
that held his prized sword. He would have to use it soon.
Beth
sat down quietly beside him and handed the steaming mug of coffee over with a
grin.
“This
cannot last.” He breathed and she felt the cold grip her heart. “So you came to
take my head then?” She whispered and he groaned, but it came out a growl. “You
need to move to Holy Ground. Remove yourself from me… we were married on Holy
Ground.” What a day that had been.
“Only
because you threatened the Priest with decapitation if I recall. He would not
marry a slave trader to his whore… it didn’t help that I was already carrying
your child as well.” The words were spoken softly, but each syllable was clear
and melodic. He’d missed her voice, he realized and frowned.
“You
could come with me?” The question was out before she could stop it. “No! I… I
am a monster, sweet wife. Holy Ground would not be my savior. Not anymore. I
renounced all that long ago. I created my own prison.” Biting her lower lip to
keep the words at bay she reached out and brushed a soft hand across his
shoulder and down a powerful arm. He was still pale as death…
“They
used to call you Death… I remember hearing about you after I’d left and
thinking… that wasn’t you at all, and yet it was what you had become. Nikolai…
I love you. I’ve loved you from the first breath of this being, but… you are
going to have to kill me. I could not… live without you again. Not even on Holy
Ground. I could not survive the ages of this world without you. It is torture…
I would rather be with our daughter…”
Sapphire
eyes turned on her and the strange look there nearly severed her heart. “You
are the one small part of peace I have ever had. I am four thousand years old,
Jacobeth. From the day my father slit my throat and made me what I am…” He was
quiet for a long moment.
“Jacobeth…
I could not kill you… not even if I dredged up all the vile evil in my being… I
have done terrible… unimaginably terrible things, but I could not kill you.”
“Will
you take me to her grave?” Nicolai breathed as he watched her dress for the
day. Whether it was corsets and lace or t-shirts and jeans she still was easily
the most beautiful woman he had ever seen…
“Do
you really want to see?” He nodded and sighed deeply. “She is buried in Scotland
On
impulse, and this was not something she ever did, or had ever done, she moved
to his side and sat down in his lap, wrapped her arms around his strong neck
and hugged tightly.
“I
know what you have to do…” She whispered and pressed her cheek against his,
gasping softly when his arms closed painfully around her and held tight. “Just
hold me like this for now, Nicolai… and tomorrow will tell its tale…”
500
Years earlier
Jacobeth
sat on the side of the large bed that they shared in the Captain’s Quarters,
her hand slipping across her belly. Not in all the time and all the men she had
been with had she conceived. How could this happen? How had his seed managed to
hold fast in her barren womb?
They
had been at sea for the past three months, and she had not set foot off the
ship in all that time. She was hardly ever allowed on deck, and she usually
spent her time inside the upper staterooms with some of the servants, who were
almost all women. Her nights were spent with Nicolai, sometimes quietly
talking, and sometimes more passionately.
She’d
learned a lot about him and his past, and in turn had told him about herself.
She’d been born in Scotland Dublin
She’d
travelled from fishing village to harbor port, scratching together enough
pennies to eat, stealing clothes from windows and clothes lines. She’d been
raped and beaten and… still, she lived for another day… and then Nicolai came…
and now this…
“I…
need to tell you something.” She began that evening, and joined him where he
stood by the wide bulkhead window. “What could you possibly say that I do not
already know, pretty?” She swallowed hard and touched a hand to his broad
shoulder.
“I…
I’m c-carrying your child…” She whispered and jerked her hand back when he
turned instantly, recoiling from her like a snake. “I cannot father a child!”
He cried and lashed out with one hand, sending her to the ground at his feet.
She cried out and covered her face with both arms, tasting the familiar taste of
blood in her mouth.
“Neither
could I conceive!” She managed after she watched him turn and walk to the other
side of the cabin. “I have never conceived, not in sixty years upon this earth…
you know what I am, Nicolai, I did not think myself capable of motherhood… but
you are here, in my belly, growing, and…” She was quiet as he strode back to
her purposefully, and she slipped both arms around her belly for the protection
it lent.
“Are
you certain?” She nodded and stood quietly, pulling her gown flat across her
belly. The bulge was unmistakable. “I’ve never had a… a… women’s time, as Amity
calls it… but she is certain as well… and it’s… I can feel it move.” One large
hand reached out and rested against her belly, as if he was trying to ascertain
the truth from his touch.
“I
feel it… growing.” Nicolai was quiet as he stood there for a long moment
touching her belly, his touch gentle. “I was told… I could not father a child,
by the one who made me.” At last his arms reached out to pull her roughly
against him and she bit back her tears, anchoring her arms around his waist.
“Maybe this one did not know the way of it then… because this child could only
be yours.”
The
present
Nicolai
took her to work that evening and sat brooding at the bar the entire evening as
she served drinks and traded friendly smiles with well known customers.
He
still drank Vodka and it still had no effect on him at all. As always there was
a vacant space that surrounded him begot by the danger he emanated.
What
vexed him most about the whole evening was the reason behind her working in
such a place? Why on earth was he sitting here watching as she served drinks
like a common wench! She was his wife. She was five hundred years old and… she
was his wife!
He
was Nicolai Kurgan… and the name held such a wealth of terror that they’d even
used his name and likeness, which was amazingly close to the target, in a movie
about immortals not long ago. He had the suspicion that whoever had done the
writing had come across him somewhere in the past. He must have made quite an
impression…
She
was still thinking about his brooding silence when a clammy hand wrapped around
her wrist and pulled hard. Caught off balance she stumbled against the bar and
cried out softly before her flashing eyes met and held those of a well known
abusive drunk she’d met on occasion.
“How
about a kiss girlie!” He sneered and the rankness of him and his breath made
her pull a face. It brought back so many unwanted memories…
“If
you don’t let go of my arm, Dick, I’ll...” She managed to say just before a strong
hand closed around the stringy wrist with the sickening crunching sound of
bones breaking. The fingers released her wrist instantly and a cry welled up in
her assailant’s throat.
“I
might kill you this night… but it would be frowned upon. Take your drink and
your broken wrist and leave… Dick. My wife is not for sale.” He growled and
propelled the injured man easily to the door.
There
was a loud chorus of cheering when Nicolai re-entered the smoke filled room and
he frowned at this, meeting his wife’s eyes with a confused look. Why did she
work here, he was asking… the question was clear in his diaphanous blue eyes…
When
he was sitting at the bar again she walked over quietly and placed a shot of
vodka before him, trying not to smile when he took her hand and gently slipped
his fingers across the bruised flesh.
“You
found me outside an inn do you remember?” His nod was curt. “You were filthy
and crouching on the ground like an animal… then I saw your eyes and there was
no fear at all. No fear… because everything you feared had already happened…
except me… my pretty… when did I become your worst nightmare?”
He
was still holding her hand when one of the locals that she had to admit was
rather sweet on her appeared behind Nicolai and in a loud I-am-being-a-hero
voice demanded to know if the fellow holding her hand was troubling her.
Nicolai
turned before she could answer and pinned the newcomer with a look that would
make a demon turn and run. “She is my wife… and this is the last evening she
will be working here. Do you want a drink or do you want to leave on a
stretcher. My patience grows thin.” All this was said in a voice barely
audible, but the intent behind each perfect syllable turned the other man paler
and paler still.
“Can
I have a brandy straight?” He asked and Beth nodded quietly, feeling sorry for
him. Nicolai turned back to the bar and swallowed down the shooter without
pulling a face.
“Give
the man his drink Jacobeth.” He breathed and she obeyed without thinking.
Nicolai’s threat passed through the establishment like wildfire and soon
everyone was saying please and thank you and not looking at Beth directly.
Everyone had been properly intimidated it seemed.
And
that was Nicolai for you… daunting and feared and respected without thought…
500
years earlier
“I
have found an island and a priest.” Nicolai said as he pulled her from the
warmth of their bed. Deftly he wrapped a cloak around her shivering shoulders
and lifted her easily against his chest. She was far along with child by now,
and the day of birth drew nearer and nearer.
“What do you mean?” She breathed and he
adjusted her against his chest before leaving the cabin, but he did not answer
her question.
“I
will not marry a whore to a murderer!” The old priest cried, and Jacobeth was
placed gently on a wooden bench in the small chapel by the large captain. With
him came six or seven of his most trusted men and they were all cutthroats to
the last.
“If
you do not marry her to me, priest, I will have your head on a pole outside
this church, and we will pillage this pitiful village and kill every last
person in it!” Nicolai drew his sword and settled the blade against the
trembling priest’s neck. “Her name is Jacobeth McDonnell, and I am Nicolai
Kurgan. We do not have the luxury of time!” The priest nodded and crossed
himself a few times before he beckoned Jacobeth closer.
With
an ungainly gait she moved across the cold stone floor and started shivering
instantly, her teeth chattering. After a word from Nicolai one of the men
ripped his cloak from broad shoulders and placed it at her feet for her to
stand on. They weren’t sure why the captain was marrying this woman, or why he
cared about a child. He’d killed and sold many…
The
vows were spoken and soon she was a Kurgan
The
present
Jacobeth
sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes touching the golden band she still wore
around her finger. It had never been a symbol of his undying love or need, and
she wasn’t even sure if he was capable of love, but… maybe it had been his
promise to her. He’d married her on holy ground after all, and he was hardly a
religious man. It might have been his way of promising trust to her… she’d
never know now what might have been had she stayed…
Nicolai
turned onto his belly behind her and she shifted to watch him. His hair fell
across his face and shoulders and his breathing was slow and even. Faint silver
scars criss- crossed his back and she sighed, not remembering them. Who had
whipped this man? Who would have dared to do it?
Tenderly
she wiped the hair from his cheek and she placed a kiss on the pale skin.
Entrancing blue eyes opened and seared into her. “I should never have left you…
I should have stayed with you and… loved you Nicolai… even had the demons
consumed us all, I should still have stayed.” With a growl he moved onto his
side and reached up to slip a hand around her frail neck.
“I
forgave you a long time ago… now it is your turn to forgive me. I know why you
left, wife… and I do not blame you for fearing me.” The resonance of those
words filled her being and she slipped into his waiting arms to be wrapped
against his hard chest. They shared their passion for most of the morning, and
when dusk gathered they rested in each other’s arms.
PREVIOUSLY
Jacobeth
lay panting against the stark white pillows with her eyes closed against the
immense pain she had just endured. She was vaguely aware that the midwife was
doing something, but the memory of the pain was so overwhelming that she could
hardly manage to breathe.
“Jacobeth?”
His resonating voice trembled through her and she opened her eyes to find his.
“It is over now.” His lips rested for a mere moment against her cheek before he
carefully gathered her to his chest and held her closely.
“Your
child.” The old midwife breathed and Jacobeth pushed away from his chest to
accept the tiny bundle. “She is perfect Nicolai.” She breathed after he’d
dismissed the woman and he just nodded.
“She
is that... and she might be immortal too.” Those words drew her eyes to his and
she frowned. “What does that mean?” She whispered and he just shrugged and
reached out to touch the small head with a tender hand.
“It
means what it means wife. Do not worry about that now.” Smiling strangely he
kissed her lips and she sighed when he held them both to his chest. She wasn’t
going to worry about his words now…
Two
women had been raped and whipped on the decks above, and she could hear the
others whimper as she stood in the hallway that led upstairs. She was not
allowed upstairs, and with good reason.
Their
daughter lay safely nestled in her crib locked in their cabin, and again she
wondered about raising a child here.
Nicolai
was up there, she knew he was, because he wasn’t down here, and… had he raped
those women as well? Amity was caring for them now… but their skins were marred
and they’d be sold for a pittance to a whorehouse somewhere.
One
of the men stumbled down the steps, and she could taste the stink of him in the
back of her throat. He didn’t notice her, and she moved quietly into the
shadows as he unchained another luckless woman to drag her screaming to the
open door. In his haste to subdue the wretched girl he forgot the door open and
Jacobeth was treated, or rather, subjected to the horrific rape…
Nicolai
didn’t do the raping, she found, and bit into her lip so hard that she tasted
blood… he did the whipping… and he did it while she was face down, spread
eagled and being raped by one of the men. Her screaming drew laughter from him,
and Jacobeth stifled her nausea.
“What
had you expected?” Amity whispered by her side and Jacobeth nearly cried out in
fright. “He is a demon.” She declared and the captain’s wife simply nodded.
“You
are the first woman that he ever brought onto this ship that hadn’t been beaten
or flogged or raped within a day…” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she
watched them rip the girl’s clothes off and she was turned around on the rough
wooden deck to be raped and whipped again… the whip tearing into soft female
breasts that had never even seen the sun…
What
made Nicolai look straight at her, Jacobeth could never know, but she cried out
when he did and started running for the cabin.
He
followed with a demented bellow, and Jacobeth hurled herself into the room just
before he followed. He was still holding the whip in one hand and his shirt and
coat were flecked with the blood of the girls he’d whipped.
“Do
you spy on me!” He screamed and she shook her head, hearing vaguely that their
daughter had awoken in her crib. She was mewling like a forlorn little kitten.
“No!
Nicolai! I heard the screams, and… someone left the door open!” The whip raised
and fell across her side stingingly, ripping her shirt.
“Please
don’t hurt me!” She cried out and sagged to the floor, hands covering her face.
For a long moment Nicolai stood watching her and then his daughter’s crying
broke in on his state of dementia and he moved to the crib to touch a soothing
hand to her little bald head.
“Shh
little girl…” He breathed, and the whip fell from his bloodied hand. “Shh.” Her
crying stopped as she was lulled back to sleep and when he turned Jacobeth was
still crouched on the floor like a wounded animal, crying in great tearing
sobs.
The
spilling of blood, the screams of the women he whipped, the wild demented rage
that welled and filled his being to capacity drained away, and all that was
left was the hollow curse of disgust and wretchedness. He’d nearly whipped her…
“Jacobeth.”
He breathed and removed his soiled shirt and coat before he went to her. “Why
would you do all those things to those women?” She whispered when he knelt
before her, and there were no words to describe what he felt.
“It
is what I am… I am a monster, and not even the blissful peace you bring can
still the bloodlust… it flows and ebbs in my soul and fills me with darkness… I
should have left you on holy ground… soothe the demons Jacobeth… touch me and…
will them to subside…” Mesmerized by his voice she slipped her hands across his
chest and around his neck…
“I
do not understand this Nikolai…” She whispered against his hair as he rested
his head against her shoulder both arms wrapping around her to draw her into
his lap.
“You
need not understand, wife. It simply is… what it is.” He growled, the resonance
of it lingered in his chest, and it struck fear into her.
She
stroked his fine hair and willed her shivering to subside. Her side was
stinging where the whip had grazed her, but she ignored this. Pain she was used
too… comforting him was not something she was used to.
“I
love you, husband.” She breathed and her arms tightened around him. “I will
always love you.” He seemed to relax and the growling in his chest subsided.
Maybe if she said it enough it would keep the demons away. Maybe…
With
her daughter in her arms Jacobeth made her way unseen across the empty ship and
down the gangplank. Dressed as she was in Amity’s old clothes, no one
recognized her. No one hardly ever saw her, so they had no recollection of her
face and movement.
Nicolai
had taken his men into the large town and down to the slave markets to sell the
women they’d so brutally raped not a week ago.
It
was her chance to escape, and she had no other option but to run. Nicolai was
growing more and more violent as each day progressed, and she was sure he now
partook in the raping as well. She couldn’t just love him and pretend he wasn’t
a monster anymore!
She’d
stolen a small bag of gold coins from his dresser, and she was sure they would
sustain her for a long time if she lived moderately.
She
knew Glasgow
“How
far will this take me?” She said urgently to the driver of a likely looking
coach and he smiled toothlessly. “Far enough.” She nodded and slipped inside,
trying not to exhale until they were well away from the city.
She’d
never be free of her love for him… but they’d be safe at least. She could live
with that.
The
cry as it echoed across the sea was so wretched and forlorn that it stirred the
waves and drew the fog from the currents. The painful lament drifted through
the still night and was lost in the thick miasma… Jacobeth… my child… where
have you gone…
The
present
The
small fenced cemetery was nearly ten miles from Glasgow
Beth
couldn’t remember what the church had been called… could only remember the
intense sense of loss she still felt being here.
The
simple inscription was nearly faded with time, but to the keen eye could still
be read. Although Beth didn’t need to read the words, she knew them by heart.
“Nicole – Daughter of Nicolai and Jacobeth – As she was in life may she be in
death, a Peaceful Angel.” Beth read and touched the headstone with a sigh.
“And
here we are my husband, on holy ground and it could be no more holy than this.”
Nicolai hunched down and touched the ground at his feet. “You named her for
me?” She nodded. “How could I do otherwise… her eyes were as blue as yours and
her hair just as black, even at the end her hair was still black as night and
her eyes wide blue pools of trust.”
They
were thus in silence for a long time, and when Nicolai rose she knew he had
reached a decision.
“We
are the last to live this wretched state of being. Will you live with me…
here…” Her nod was barely a jerk of her head, but…
“Are
you sure?” His hand leaned against the simple squared headstone and he nodded
in silence.
“I have found peace here…”
THE END
She’d
never be free of her love for him… but they’d be safe at least. She could live
with that.
The
cry as it echoed across the sea was so wretched and forlorn that it stirred the
waves and drew the fog from the currents. The painful lament drifted through
the still night and was lost in the thick miasma… Jacobeth… my child… where
have you gone…
The
present
The
small fenced cemetery was nearly ten miles from Glasgow
Beth
couldn’t remember what the church had been called… could only remember the
intense sense of loss she still felt being here.
The
simple inscription was nearly faded with time, but to the keen eye could still
be read. Although Beth didn’t need to read the words, she knew them by heart.
“Nicole – Daughter of Nicolai and Jacobeth – As she was in life may she be in
death, a Peaceful Angel.” Beth read and touched the headstone with a sigh.
“And
here we are my husband, on holy ground and it could be no more holy than this.”
Nicolai hunched down and touched the ground at his feet. “You named her for
me?” She nodded. “How could I do otherwise… her eyes were as blue as yours and
her hair just as black, even at the end her hair was still black as night and
her eyes wide blue pools of trust.”
They
were thus in silence for a long time, and when Nicolai rose she knew he had
reached a decision.
“We
are the last to live this wretched state of being. Will you live with me…
here…” Her nod was barely a jerk of her head, but…
“Are
you sure?” His hand leaned against the simple squared headstone and he nodded
in silence.
“I have found peace here…”
THE END
[Fan Art - The Kurgan (Highlander)]
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