Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch

by Stefano Pastor

  «Rupert needs an heir, and desperately so. An heir he can’t give to me. He has never been a husband, he can’t fulfil his duty».

  I grew more and more confused. «But…».

  She pointed at Mike. «He was fine with him being the father. He would have been perfect for his son. Rupert had loved him, too. That’s why I boarded your ship: to give a son to my husband. But it was everything in vain. Even Rupert can’t understand why».

  The truth was so overwhelming that I was left speechless. «I…».

  «You were the only one. I couldn’t find anybody else. I can’t bring the son of a pirate to Rupert, he would never accept it. I couldn’t accept it either».

  «But… but…».

  «This game has gone too far, we can’t stop now. Morgan wants me, he desires me, I don’t know how much longer I can resist him». She locked eyes with me. «I don’t want to have his son».

  «I’m a cabin boy», I whispered. «I’m just a cabin boy».

  For the first time, she smiled at me. «Wouldn’t you wish to be the father of the future King of England?».

  «I have never done this», I admitted, my voice breaking.

  Her smile widened. «Neither do I».

  Yes, I could see that she was young, even younger than what I thought at first. Perhaps she was truly a virgin, considering the husband she chose.

  She was still smiling. «It won’t be a sacrifice, for me», she said.

  The same could be said for me. I wanted nothing else since the first time I saw her.

  «Your husband…», I whispered. «Lord Stuart…».

  Her smile turned mischievous. «Oh, I’m certain he’ll approve my choice». And she added: «Undress».

  Once more, I glanced at Mike, unsure. «Does he have to witness this?».

  «Oh, dear Mike will stand guard so that we won’t be disturbed. After all, he owes me, don’t you think?».

  Mike looked away and turned to face the door.

  This was crazy, I was doing something crazy, but I couldn’t care less. I was ready to day to be with her.

  I got on that bed.

  Mike had taken a blanket and was sleeping on the floor. We couldn’t share the same bed, not after what I discovered about him.

  Still, watching him like that made me sad. I couldn’t be angry at him anymore, I couldn’t keep silent. «How long have you been… like that?».

  He wasn’t answering.

  «With Lord Stuart, no less! How could you? He’s… old, disgusting!».

  He shrivelled up even more, under his blanket.

  I sighed. «Come on, get on the bed, stop acting like that».

  Finally, he spoke to me, after all that time. «Not with you, I swear! I would never dare… don’t even think about it. You were my friend, it was different. I never thought about…».

  Yes, I believed him. This time he was telling the truth. «Come on, come to bed».

  He was older than me, stronger than me, but still so vulnerable. He tried to keep some distance, but instead I hugged him.

  «We’ll make it, you’ll see», I whispered, like he was a child.

  Over a month passed by but eventually the day came. The worst day of my life. The day when captain Morgan, the pirate, took my beautiful Lady Stuart.

  The worst part was that I had to witness it. Both of us had to, Mike and I. After all, we were nothing but part of the furniture.

  He didn’t rape her, no. On the contrary, he was all too delicate with her, and Lady Stuart didn’t resist at all.

  I knew it was about to happen, I knew it for some days already, since I saw a strange smile creep up on the noblewoman’s face. Then I realized we made it, Lady Stuart was pregnant with my child.

  Every night she came to free us, because she wasn’t a captive, she could do it, and every night we slept together. It had been a crazy, wonderful month, even if I knew she was using me.

  Now, anyway, I wasn’t needed anymore. I fulfilled my duty. Now she was only interested in Morgan. By now, she was ruling over him, she could have him do as she pleased. That night, it happened. She gave herself to him completely. We, standing still like statues, had to witness it.

  Lady Stuart’s voice was mellow, as she stroked the pirate’s muscles. «Make me yours, I want nothing more. Give me a child, may it be the new Lord Stuart».

  And then again, ever more urgent. «One day your son will sit on England’s throne, Morgan. You’ll be proud of him».

  Those words again. They felt like burning embers on my flesh, as he was possessing her in front of my eyes.

  Night after night I witnessed their intercourses, powerless. I didn’t want anything more than to kill that bastard. Except I couldn’t, because his death would mean our downfall. I could only stay and watch.

  It seemed like he was enjoying it, having us as an audience. Maybe though he never thought of us as human being, but only as furnishings.

  Mike and I became friends again, beyond what happened.

  After all we had both been used, respectively by Lord and Lady Stuart, as we had used them. Despite all, we weren’t all that different.

  We started talking again, dreaming, and making projects. We almost believed the idea that we would survive this foolish adventure.

  I still couldn’t understand Lady Stuart. She said she had no choice, that I was the only one she could find, but I still couldn’t believe her.

  She had had all the time in the world to choose any other sailor, a young and strong man, but still she came to me. This had to mean something, hadn’t it?

  I didn’t know, I couldn’t understand, I remembered holding her warm body in my arms, how she was overflowing with passion, the same passion she was now pouring on Morgan, who she said to hate a moment before.

  Was it all over? Totally over? Did I lose her forever?

  They freed us after two months. Lady Stuart’s pregnancy was barely showing. Morgan’s eyes were glistening with pride as he escorted us to the shore.

  Lady Stuart’s eight chests followed her, and so did we.

  Mike and I were holding hands, our hearts beating in our throats, we didn’t even dare to breathe.

  Freedom was close, the ransom was paid.

  Morgan caressed her, smothered her with kisses, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  «What are you going to call him, my love? What will be the name of our son?».

  «What would you like to name him, my lord?».

  «Would you give him my name? Would you dare to?».

  Lady Stuart’s crystal-clear laugh startled me. «Morgan! King Morgan. It sounds perfect».

  «Would you truly do it?».

  «I would do anything for you, you know that».

  I was so disgusted, I wanted to puke.

  They left us on the deserted beach, and getting him to go leave her wasn’t easy. It seemed like he no longer wanted to part from her. When they had to say farewell, she was in tears, weeping so hard that even I suffered from it.

  Then his comrades dragged him away and we were left alone.

  As his boat was heading away, I was looking at those eight chests with despair.

  «I have to change», Lady Stuart said.

  She wasn’t crying anymore, her face completely dry.

  I swallowed. «Is someone coming to get us, Milady?».

  «No one knows we’re here, we’ll have to adapt».

  I panicked. «When the ransom was paid, didn’t…».

  «There was no ransom!», she rebutted.

  I didn’t understand. «And he freed us all the same?».

  A malicious smile appeared on her face. «I think I more than earned my freedom».

  I swallowed again. «Captain Morgan…».

  «Oh, he loved me, he couldn’t be without me. She would have never given me away, no matter the entity of the ransom. He didn’t even ask for it».

  «I can’t understand», I had to admit.

  «He couldn’t give it up. No one could. Even if he loved me,
he couldn’t give up on such an opportunity».

  I grew more and more confused. «What opportunity?».

  «To put his son on the throne! How can you not understand? No one could give up on an opportunity like this!».

  I swallowed for the third time.

  «Now, can you please hurry? I have to change!».

  This time, as I tried to undress her more than it was necessary, she slapped me on the face, and I understood that I wasn’t needed anymore.

  She wore a simple dress, almost masculine looking, which surprised me very much.

  I pointed at the chests. «What about these, Milady? Do we have to bring them with us?».

  She looked at them in horror. «Are you insane?».

  So, we abandoned them on the beach and went to look for a village.

  It took us almost three months to get back to England, so now Lady Stuart’s pregnant state was blatant. She brought us with her, despite my fear that she would have dumped us.

  When we finally set foot on our country, Mike’s eyes were glistening. I didn’t know for sure what he was expecting. Even I had no idea of what role I would have had now. Lady Stuart said nothing about it, she went back to be our mistress and didn’t think us worthy of any confidence.

  We left London almost immediately to head to Scotland’s castles. The journey lasted two weeks and was a rough one for the noblewoman.

  She was moving closer to her seventh month of pregnancy when we arrived at Lord Stuart’s residence.

  Seeing Mike being excited like a little girl disgusted me, and the feeling worsened when I thought of how I would soon lose my dear Milady forever.

  She immediately got rid of us, as we got housed in two little but decent rooms, together with the servants.

  I should have felt happy that at least she hadn’t left us to our own destiny. Those were hard times for England, consumed by internal wars, and for sure none of us wanted to go back at sea. Still, it wasn’t easy to accept that now we were nothing.

  Mike was having it tougher, he did nothing but pine. I couldn’t understand: the case with me was clear, but how could he be pining over such a despicable being?

  Two weeks went by before they called for us.

  Lord and Lady Stuart were taking a walk in the gardens, followed by their court.

  Lady Stuart was hiding his state underneath a wide and fluffy dress, and she needed no support. Her husband never left her side, meaning that he wasn’t embarrassed by her condition. In fact, he was extremely kind to her, almost grovelling.

  Mike was shaking as we reached them.

  We cleaned up, but we could never reach their level.

  Lady Stuart’s voice was emotionless as he introduced me to his husband… «Rupert, my dear, this is your son’s father».

  I felt myself sinking before Lord Stuart’s gaze.

  I never saw him this close before. Beside his clothes and contrived mannerism, his gaze was alert and bright. I felt naked before him, as he was studied every part of my body. I was so tense that if he tried to touch me, I would have screamed.

  Instead, he noted: «He’s a bit short».

  «He’s young, my dear. He’s only a boy».

  «He’s still a bit short». He pointed at Mike. «He would have been better».

  There was no doubt about that, but Lady Stuart puffed. «As you wish, my dear. Then keep him. I’ll take this one».

  She shoved Mike, pushing him toward her husband and grabbed me by an arm. It wasn’t easy for her to make me move, as I stood frozen.

  Lord Stuart looked at Mike and shook his head. «So, you made it here. You did it». Then he smiled. «Come on, follow me. We wasted way too much time».

  I saw nothing more, because Lady Stuart dragged me away.

  I was ever more confused. «What… ?».

  She sighed. «I’m afraid we’ll have to wait a bit longer». She caressed my cheek. «In a couple months, the baby will be born and we’ll be free to do as we please».

  I was afraid to speak. «This wasn’t a coincidence, was it? Wasn’t I the only one?».

  She shrugged. «Let’s make him believe that, it’s better this way for us».

  My heart was beating wildly. «She… you…».

  She simply laughed and took me away.

  And…

  But that’s another story. The unsinkable Lady Stuart gave birth to a male heir and I had no saying in the choice of name. To tell the truth, I had no saying in anything at all, but after the birth I went back to attending her room, with the blessing of Lord Stuart, that was no longer keeping his infatuation for my friend Mike a secret.

  Did I become Lady Stuart’s lover? Not exactly. Did I stay in the castle with them? No. Lady Stuart fulfilled her faithful wife’s duty and was now truly free.

  The world was waiting for us, and the adventure I would live with her, by her side, would have been unbelievable and phenomenal.

  But, I told you, this is another story. Perhaps one day I’ll tell you about it.

  So long, my friends.

  December 2010

  THEY WILL TELL YOU

  Translation by Matteo Baldetti

  They will tell you that he is the one, don’t believe in it. It’s not true. If it was the only one that commandment had not any kind of value.

  They will tell you that he created us, that he is a sympathetic. Even more lies. He did not create us and as regards the compassion… read the Bible and you will understand. His anger has not equivalent, it is indiscriminate, he is scorched earth while he passes. Love, what a useless word. Obedience, worship, veneration.

  Think. Think with your head. Don’t listen to what they tell you. Them, the others and those who have bent their head, the defeated ones.

  There is always a choice. You can choose who to love. Decide whether there’s someone who deserves your love. Fight for what is yours, don’t give in.

  I fight for you, I don’t give up. Against everyone, even against who they call god, of which I don’t understand the nature. Until death and beyond, if there will be a beyond. For eternity, between infinite comebacks.

  I need to tell you a story so you may understand. It is not a parable neither a product of fantasy. It’s the reality, remember this, no matter what they tell you about me.

  The truth.

  It hasn’t even been a year since I met you for the first time.

  You were at the class door, alone and lost. I believed that you lost yourself, you were too young to be there. But no, you were 10 years old, even though you looked like you were 2 years old younger than that.

  A twig, coated in a white robe running all the way down to your feet. Nude feed, with open sandals on. And that funny hat, similar to an upside-down bowl. An instant of tease, then resignation.

  I was not able to comprehend some particular choices, clinging to the tradition at the cost of ruining a child’s life. I already had collided with that way of thinking. I couldn’t be otherwise, when my pupils were for most foreign people. Extra-community people, what a stupid word.

  The crucifix had disappeared for years. Silently, without having anyone realising it. Closed in a drawer, forgotten. It was easy, I did not know that god. It happened a day, when I found a girl locked up in the toilet. Crying all alone in that burial plot. She was terrified, she had nightmares during sleep. She could not put up with that tortured man who was staring at her. Ours is a strange religion, which assumed a torturing tool as a symbol. She was Indian, she believed in reincarnation.

  How many compromises my life has. One more.

  You were there staring at me, you did not know what to do. Your name was Aziz. You spoke a very good Italian and I just came to know right after that you were born here. Your parents are Egyptian. You would have got a tough life, they wouldn’t have forgiven you for being different, and flaunting that diversity with pride. I managed to get you one of the desks in the front just to keep an eye on you.

  You were strange, you always smiled, you seemed to be happy
to be there. The fact that everyone spied on you and kept an eye on you seemed to make you feel happy. You adored being the centre of the attention.

  I did everything I could to integrate you. You were concentrated but you never asked any question. You were calm, placid, the calmest child in the world. It was easy to forget that you were there. It happened to me.

  Some days passed and it did not happen.

  I knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable. But it was not happening.

  Children know how to hurt, a lot, more than an adult, and without even realising it. They could destroy a life, lead you to desperation, and I see this happening a thousand times. But not with you.

  It was impossible. Tanned in that way it was inevitable that everyone would tease you. They had to do in a stealthy way, when I could not see them. I made myself more careful, I would watch you.

  So, during the break, I caught you. You were alone, surrounded by half the class, in the school’s courtyard. I panicked for a moment but then I realised that they were not attacking you. You were speaking and they were listening. It was something of unprecedented, it had never happened before.

  I almost did not know your voice, you had never spoken to me. Not a single question. I didn’t even interview you because I was afraid of making you bad in front of the class. I came closer, more curious than worried.

  You were telling a fairy tale, at least it was what it seemed to be until I realised you got it out from the Koran. It was a story about a stone fallen from the sky, sent by Allah to free the man of the evil. Mahomet himself brought it to the Mecca and today it is still venerated.

  I knew that story, vague reminiscences from school. I stayed to listen anyway, because it was good listening to you speaking. You had a warm voice, not the one of a child, full of surprise and participation. You were living what you were telling, each phrase left from the heart.

  Then you put your hand into the tunic and get a pebble out. It was all black, big as an olive. Even the shape was similar.

  «This is a fragment of the Black Stone», you said.

  Big surprise and even fear. I wouldn’t hide the smile and I let you go on.

  «It has been my family’s for so many generations, My grandfather gave it to me, I need to keep it».

  You believed in it. You grandfather fooled you. Who knows how many fragments of the Black Stone existed all over the world, maybe more than the splinters of the True Cross, that were even sold on EBay.