The captain could also take his pick of the best whores in Brasov, and he often did. Yet it was not enough to satisfy his libido. His tastes and needs pushed the boundaries of many of those whose bed he shared, to their limits. Those things he desired were well outside what anyone would consider normal. In truth, many women saw his appetite for violence and his other kinks as perverse, if they were even legal.
This did not deter him, and so he often combed the more secluded areas of the nearby forests. There, he sought out women who lived alone and away from the public eye. Taking them against their will provided him with his greatest thrill. That and the things he did to them afterwards. It was not good for any woman to meet him on such a day.
Such a girl had caught his eye, and he harboured a strong craving to bed her. He had thought of nothing else in the two hours since he had spotted her. She could certainly satisfy his need for some sadistic fun, and his bulge throbbed and ached at the image of her that filled his mind. Through the trees, he had caught a glimpse of her playing with her child near to a waterfall. It was to there that he now rode.
His horse moved at a steady canter as he guided it with skill through the trees. They hurdled a series of minor obstacles, while others he had to duck to avoid. Soon he arrived at the secluded cascade. From the cover of the trees, he watched her bathing with her child in the pool near the waterfall. She stepped out of the water and sat on a rock to dry herself and her child.
He ran a hand over his mouth as he coveted her beautiful form. She appeared quite young and could not have been long out of her teens. His eyes fell on her heavy breasts and the fullness of her hips. She carried some excess weight for one so young, but he liked that in a woman.
She wrapped the baby in a shroud. The noise of the waterfall meant she did not hear him as he approached. Naked, she walked with her child in her arms towards the shack where she lived.
Her husband chopped wood around the side. The captain had not yet seen the man and grew more cautious when he did. The woman stopped to kiss him. “How much longer might you be?”
“I have to chop these logs,” he said. “We need a good supply before the weather turns colder. You know that.”
It was then they noticed the stranger. The woman ran into the hut, where she quickly bolted the door shut. Her husband stood in front of it. The axe he hefted in both hands, eyeing the stranger with suspicion. “What do you want?”
“That is no way to speak to the Captain of the Guard. You should mind your tone with me. I could have you arrested and thrown in the stocks.”
The peasant eyed the man he still regarded as an intruder. He appeared tall and gaunt, and his dark hair fell long about his face. A slight whisker covered his chin. He had dark green eyes, high Slavic cheekbones, and an aquiline nose. They gave him a menacing appearance, even when he smiled. “What do you want here, Captain?”
“I was passing by on my way back to the garrison.”
“Then you had best be on your way again, sir. Night is drawing in.”
“You are quite the bold one, peasant.”
“I have a young family inside. It follows then, I do not welcome strangers.”
“Yes, that I can see,” he said, eyeing the door. He leaned forward in the saddle and leered. “Tell me then, peasant. Does the land you live on not belong to the boyar, Victor Florescu?”
“Yes, it does.”
“Then, as his marshal I have every right to be on it. So I think you should pass and allow me inside.”
“Not while I pay the rent on this land.”
“That is of no consequence to me.”
“It is while the rent is up-to-date. You have no business here, so you best leave.”
“Do you realise what you are saying? Are you sure you know who I am?”
“Of course I know who you are.”
“Then you should not be so curt with me.”
“I, too, was a soldier once, and I have served the same boyar as you. It is a shame your memory fails you.”
Varkal did know his face. It explained how the man knew his rights. “In the now, you are a peasant. The respect due a soldier does not apply to you. So move aside!”
“I know much of you, Varkal Gabrul. I also know why you are here.”
Varkal grinned at him. He knew he would have to kill the man now to get what he wanted. “Is it so obvious?”
“But I also know the law. You have no right to be here, so I bid you to leave.”
“You must be useful with a sword to have served at the garrison.”
“I am that.”
“Though I do not see it on your person. How would you defend yourself against me?”
“Why would I need to do that?”
“You claim to know why I am here.”
“I believe I do.”
“We both know I want to have sport with your wife. To stop me, you shall have to kill me. It is either that, or step aside.”
“I cannot do that, sir.”
“Then prepare to die!”
Varkal dismounted and drew his sword in the same action. “You do not really think you are a match for me? Spare your life and step aside.”
“I shall not step aside. I am not afraid of you.”
“I did not ask if you feared me. You are such a fool.”
“While I draw breath, you shall not set foot inside my home.”
“Such a shame.” He grinned, allowing his sword to dangle low while he circled the man. “It is rare to meet a man so eager to meet his maker.”
His taunt did not affect the man’s resolve. “Perhaps you might meet yours.”
The grin extended across Varkal’s face. “So brazen you are, peasant. And yet so brave. I do admire that quality in you. It is your stupidity that is your failing. You shall die this day because of it.”
“Do as you must. No man fights harder than he who fights to save those he loves. Be warned.”
They circled each other a number of times. Varkal probed and jabbed at the man with his weapon. Each time, the peasant fended off the blows with the axe.
He knew the axe would not be enough to hold the captain off for long. For that reason, he discarded it. He reached for a hayfork that stood against the hut. It would serve as his choice of weapon.
Varkal grinned. “That evens the score, but it shall not be enough to save you.”
They completed the initial sounding out manoeuvres. The duel then took on a more sinister edge. Varkal pressed hard with his attack, desperate to get his hands on the man’s wife. Although he did not remember the man too well, the peasant showed he was more than capable. He proved an experienced opponent desperate to protect his family.
The captain grew agitated by his resistance. His angered aggression saw him begin to lunge wildly with his sword. This gave the peasant a chance to strike back with his own weapon, and he stabbed his foe in the left arm with the prongs.
Varkal cried out in pain. He flew into a rage and swung like a madman. The blade sliced the peasant’s thigh. Even so, the man managed to counter, despite his injury. He lashed out with the butt end of the hayfork. It caught his rival full in the stomach and knocked him to the ground.
He drove the fork down at his adversary. Varkal was quick to react and blocked with his sword. The two of them remained locked there in a battle of strength and wills. Varkal pushed up with all his might, but the prongs continued to inch closer to his face.
Using both hands, he pulled the sword sharply to the left. The action disarmed both men. As the peasant lost his balance, he received a painful kick in the groin.
Varkal used his advantage to land two solid punches to the man’s jaw. He followed it up with a series of kicks to the head and body. They were vicious blows that left the man bleeding. He crumbled to the ground, only half conscious. Varkal left him there and picked up the discarded axe.
Breathing hard, he walked over to his dazed and defeated opponent. He raised the axe high and brought it down against the side of the man�
��s head. The fight was finally over. Just to be sure, Varkal struck him again with the axe, but this time across his spine. He then spat a mouthful of phlegm at the dead man. “You should have stepped aside.”
He left it embedded in the dead man’s back and retrieved his sword. His eyes then fell on the door of the shack. Behind it, his prize awaited him. He beat it with both fists when he found it bolted. “Open the door!” he shouted.
The woman climbed under her bed and clutched her baby tight to her breast. She had nowhere else to go, with the front door providing the only entrance in or out of her home. God only knew what might happen if he found his way inside.
Varkal rammed the door with his shoulder several times, though it refused to give way. Blood trickled more freely from his injury. With the pain in his arm added to his failure to get inside, his temper began to boil beneath the surface. Still, he managed a grin when he thought of the woman. “Pretty little peasant girl, where are you?” he half sung to her.
She trembled at the sound of his voice. Closing her eyes, she whispered a prayer for the safety of her and her baby.
“Pretty little peasant girl?” he continued. “Open the door. If not, I shall have to huff, and puff, and blow your house down.”
He listened with his ear to the door. There was not a sound inside. His eyes fell on the axe protruding from the peasant’s back. He walked over to the dead man and, pressing a foot between his shoulder blades, yanked it free.
Varkal grinned again. “Let us see for how long you can hide from me.”
Beads of sweat trickled from his brow. He wiped them away with a sleeve and headed back towards the shack.
Chapter 16
TRANSYLVANIA. THE FORESTS NEAR BRASOV.
OCTOBER, 1494. THE SAME EVENING.
The axe crashed down against the door. Under the bed, the woman put her hand over her mouth to muffle her cry. The baby stirred in her arms.
She moved her hand away from her own mouth and put it gently over his. “Hush,” she said, soothing him. “Be a good boy for Mama.”
A second blow against the door shook the shack to its foundations. The woman cried out again. It would not take him much longer to get inside her home. She thought of her husband, and the reality struck her that he must be dead.
Tears streamed down the sides of her face. “Oh, Cosmin,” she cried.
Varkal grew more and more eager to get inside. Images of the woman naked in the pool flashed through his mind. He had not enjoyed an encounter such as this for a time now, and he wanted her. It was the first time he had had to kill another to get to his quarry. But in trying to save her, the dead man had only served to whet his appetite further.
He pushed his foot against the door to help pry the axe loose. It had smashed a hole big enough for him to see through. He stopped for a moment and peered into the small living area. “Pretty little peasant girl,” he said out loud. “I am coming.”
The space she hid in allowed her no room to move. She shivered so much her knees knocked against the wooden slats. It caused the bed, which her husband had crafted with his own hand, to vibrate a little.
The door came crashing down. As hard as she tried to stop herself, she cried out again. It led him right to her. He walked into the small side bedroom. In one corner, he saw a low bed and in another, an empty cot.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he teased.
A spider crawled across her naked breast. She whimpered and brushed it off. He was sure to know her hiding place now.
“I wonder where you could be,” he said, walking back to the other room. “Are you hiding in here?”
She had not fed the baby yet. Its tummy grumbled, and it wanted her milk. When it cried out, she placed a firm hand over its mouth. She held it there, hoping the stranger still did not know their location.
He returned to the bedroom. “Perhaps you are in here after all.”
Her child struggled beneath her hand to breathe. It pained her to have to do it. She could see the feet of the stranger only a yard or two away.
“Are you under the bed, I wonder?”
She forgot him in an instant. The baby had stopped moving.
“Carol!” she cried, not caring about Varkal any longer.
Suddenly, the bed rose from above her as Varkal lifted it and threw it back. He looked down on the naked woman and her blue-faced child. “I told you I would find you,” he said, running his tongue over his lower lip.
She turned her head and glared up at him. “Can you not wait!”
Her outburst took him a little aback. She returned to her child. “Carol!” she repeated his name, shaking him.
The baby did not respond. In a panic, she pushed a finger into his little mouth. She pushed his tongue down flat and then exhaled a lungful of air into him.
Carol coughed and choked. She held him tight to her breast and burst into tears. “Good boy,” she whispered, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
Varkal traced a line with his eyes down her back to her thighs. His mouth felt dry and he rubbed his hand over it. The ache in him grew ever stronger, and he could wait no longer. “Put the child down,” he said, his tone cold and firm.
She looked up at him, knowing what he had in mind, and fearful of it. His eyes cut right through her as if to confirm it to her. From his gaze, she sensed a threat to her baby and cradled him, to try and shield him from harm. Her fears for her own safety had all but gone. “He stopped breathing,” she shouted, in a venomous tone.
“Put him down in his cot. If not, he might fashion the end of my sword. I doubt you would be able to revive him then.”
She looked at him with hatred burning in her eyes. He had killed her husband and now he threatened her baby with the same. All to satisfy an urge in his crotch.
He watched her lay the child down in the cot. It cried again to go on her breast.
“He is hungry,” she said, looking for a little compassion.
He had none. “The brat can wait, but I cannot. Get over here!”
She put an arm across her breasts to shield them from his eyes. Cold shivers ran right through her. What worse fate could a woman endure than to have to pleasure the man who has just killed her husband?
He pushed the bed down flat again. She walked gingerly toward him, her thighs close together. He loosened his breeches and released his swollen erection.
She looked down at it with a degree of fear. “Please, not in here. Not in the same room as my child.”
Varkal dismissed her request and pushed her down hard onto the bed. The force of her fall splintered some of the slats her husband had crafted with such painstaking care. Varkal discarded his clothes and let his sword fall to the floor. “You had best be good to me, wench,” he warned. “Lest you and your baby should both feel my sword.”
He pushed her thighs apart with his hands. She closed her eyes and trembled as he cast his over her. Then, parting her legs by the calves, he went down on her.
She tried to think of Cosmin. The last moments she shared with him entered her mind. He was the only man who had ever known her in this way.
Varkal probed her with his tongue, and she shuddered at his invasion of her. He was the most despicable of men, as were all the men of noble birth she had encountered. They took what they wanted when they wanted. The day had turned into a nightmare. When would it ever end? She just wanted to be alone to mourn her beloved husband.
He stopped and grabbed her by the hair, tugging hard at the roots before dragging her to the edge of the bed. She cried out and clutched his wrists as he pulled her down towards his throbbing manhood. “Make it feel good,” he warned.
When she hesitated, he slapped her across the back of the head. The blow brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to scream, but knew it was not a good idea, as afraid as she was. God only knows what he might do to my baby. Perhaps if I give him what he wants, he might leave us be.
She grimaced as she closed her lips around it. His taste and smell sickened
her. It occurred to her to bite him, but it would only result in her losing Carol too. She could bear anything but that. The act he wanted her to perform, terrified her. She had rarely ever done it before. Until now, it had always been something special.
Due to her lack of experience, she was a trifle clumsy and caught him with her teeth. It made him crazy. He pushed her away before punching her in the face. For a moment, the blow stunned her. She put up a hand and recoiled in horror when she felt the blood oozing from her broken nose.
“You clumsy bitch!” he snarled, as he struck her again. “You are nothing but a whore! Even as the blood lies warm in your husband’s veins, do you have another man’s meat in your mouth!”
She could not understand his outburst. His face twisted with anger, even though she had done what he wanted. What more can I do?
Rising from her knees, she stood up on the bed. She glared at him and lashed out without even thinking. It took him completely by surprise when she slapped him hard across the face. Her action was born more out of fear for the welfare of her and her child than courage.
For a moment, he just stood there and gave her a blank stare. It came as a shock to him that she might fight back. As he regained his composure, his temper boiled within. He clenched his fist to strike her again.
She did not give him the chance. Before he could deliver the blow, she kicked him full in the groin. He doubled over in agony and dropped to his knees. She felt real triumph and her heart raced as she jumped off the bed.
He remained on his knees with both hands tight to his crotch. His face turned dark red as he fought for breath. The woman stepped past him and picked up his sword. He had not anticipated that she might fight back, and it stunned him.
She held it out before her in a threatening manner. Her nerves were so frayed that she could scarcely manage even that. She took a deep breath. “Get out of my home, you murdering bastard!” she shouted. “Before I stick you with it!”
He looked up at her, and then at the sword. To back up her threat, she thrust the weapon at him, forcing him to take evasive action. He ducked sideways and fell on his stomach. The sword missed his face by inches, but the fall crushed his aching testicles. He groaned again in pain.
The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels Page 155