Maxim Darko: The Greatest Gift of Evil. A Vampire Chronicle

CHAPTER THIRTEEN THE KATFIGIO MOUNTAINS

That evening in the inn's large common room, Ciril called the innkeeper over to his table. "Send for the village elders," he demanded. Without waiting for an answer, he glanced around the room. His warriors were drinking heavily, singing, and competing for the attentions of the few women in the room. Worriedly, Ciril took another drink of wine. Only his Lieutenant understood the dangers of the recent spring time rains in the mountains. The muddy roads would significantly slow their pace, leaving them vulnerable to an attack. Let the rest of my men be oblivious, he thought as he took another drink of wine. Fearless warriors are better warriors.

A short while later, the nervous innkeeper arrived with the few elders of the small village. Ciril looked at them with disgust. They were bent men. Old before their time. Probably never killed an enemy in battle, he thought as he sat up straight. He roughly lifted the innkeeper's daughter from his lap, and unceremoniously dumped her on the seat next to him. The innkeeper shivered at the sight. When Ciril had woken earlier in the day, he had demanded to see the girl again. With a farm daughter's fortitude, and few tears, she had obediently returned to Ciril's room. Fortunately for her, she reasonably fulfilled Ciril's demands, and he had not beaten her.

"The roads. Are they passable?" Ciril gruffly asked.

The old men spoke in soft tones to one another. Satisfied that a consensus had been reached among them, the elder of the group spoke. "Yes, my Lord. The mud will slow your pace, but the roads are passable. Go slow down the slopes. A fast horse can easily slide over a cliff."

Ciril stared hard at the elders, who failed to hold his gaze. The old men dropped their eyes and stared into their cups. Correctly judging that they were too fearful of retribution to tell falsehoods, Ciril chose to believe their advice about the roads. With a casual wave of his hand, he dismissed them. "Good. You may leave now."

Ciril stood on his chair and whistled loudly. His rambunctious warriors immediately became silent. "We leave in the morn at first light. Enjoy your night, for tomorrow we ride hard." Ciril stepped down from the chair and took the innkeeper's daughter by her hand. He drunkenly led her up the stairs to the innkeeper's bedroom.

A few hours later, the warriors, who were dissatisfied with number of available women in the inn, began a door-to-door search throughout the village for women. As they uncovered the hiding places of the village women, the warriors began a rape rampage. Shrieking from terrified girls, and women echoed throughout the village. The village men seethed with anger, and vainly attempted to protect their women with pitiful weapons. Ciril's warriors easily murdered three of the village's defenders. At the few places where the warriors encountered resistance, they burned the farm houses to the ground.

In the morning, the innkeeper's daughter rose early, and donned her rough-spun dress. She tip-toed out of the bedroom to use the outhouse. On her way back to the bedroom, she saw Randall eating his morning gruel in the common room. He waved his sister over and informed her of the previous night's horrific events. When she returned to Ciril, she gently woke him. "I have disturbing news for you my Lord."

Ciril grunted with anger, "What is it wench?"

The girl flinched at the insult but held her tongue. "Your men burned a few farmhouses last night," she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and then continued. "And they raped most of the women in the village. Old and young. Age did not matter to them my Lord."

Ciril grunted with anger. He rolled out of bed and removed a map from his pack. "Bring me a hot drink, and food, girl," he demanded.

The girl obediently left for the kitchen. When the food was ready, she rushed back to her parent's bedroom, in hopes of discovering Ciril's plans. A red-eyed, and hung-over Ciril, was pouring over his map when she set down a tray of food. In vain, he was trying to locate the best road through the mountain passes. He accepted the clay mug the girl and ordered her to sit. Ciril was worried, news of the villager's outrage over the raping of their women, and the burning of farms would travel fast throughout the region. This development swayed his choice of routes. He wanted to avoid any trouble that would slow his progress to Corfu. Erring to the side of caution, he chose to avoid the next village called Mega Dereio, which was along his previously planned route. He took the girl's finger and used it to trace a route on the map. "Tell me of this road girl."