The Cursed Bride

by Camille Oster

  "We must not give ourselves to superstition," Reverend Stubbe declared and Aldine looked up. She'd lost track of the sermon, but this drew her attention and she listened to every word. "It is our own weaknesses that needs to be guarded against. The fight over one's soul is never outside of oneself."

  It was rare that Aldine wanted more once a sermon was finished. It was normally the time she prayed for, if she were honest.

  With the end, everyone rose and mingled. Reverend Stubbe first came to speak to Heinrich, being the most illustrious member of the congregation, then Wilhelmina and working his way down the line.

  "Could I ask you a question?" Aldine asked when he came to speak to her.

  "Of course. Come," he said, showing her toward an empty pew on the other side.

  "I am sure you have heard the things said about this family—about there being a curse on the family."

  The vicar watched her for a moment, as if he didn't know what to say. "As I said in my sermon, superstition is not true religion. There are no answers in such beliefs. It is all false."

  With a frown, Aldine listened. "But the church has always believed in magic, in witches. If there is magic, how can there not be curses?"

  With a sigh, he leaned back a little against the wooden backrest. "It is true. Martin Luther himself believed in witches, even said they had to be executed, but he also believed they could be led back into the light. He believed that there was a sphere where the devil's influence was God's will."

  "God's will," Aldine repeated. Now she was more confused than ever.

  "It is not in dark spells that your soul will be tested. It is within you. Luther did believe in magic, but that it has no power if one trusts in God."

  That was easy to say when one wasn't the victim of it. "So curses can exist."

  "Well, we don't believe such things these days. Then, as now, it is simply a belief in lost souls. People who have turned away from God. God is the only salvation."

  It wasn't so much of an answer as a diversion. "So how does one combat a curse?"

  In a sense, he looked a little disappointed in her, but his life wasn't on the line from some witch's curse. "Prayer," he said. "Witchcraft, any form, cannot harm a righteous man—or woman. It is nothing more than ill intent, and it cannot pierce the armor of trust in God."

  On one level, she understood what he was saying, but then he cared about souls not lives. At no point had Aldine ever felt as though her soul was in jeopardy—but according to the previous Countesses Graven, her life may well be. "So a curse cannot act upon an innocent party, make them do things they don't want to?"

  "No, Aldine," he said. "Magic is not real. Those who practiced it might have wanted to believe so, but it was their own souls who were in jeopardy. The things that have happened at Schwarzfeld, we must accept as God's plan.”

  "Then what is his plan for me?"

  "That we cannot know, but we must trust."

  Again, easier said than done.

  "Trust and pray, Aldine, and if you still struggle, come and see me again," he said as he rose, ending this conversation. There was, perhaps, little else to say, even if she felt less assured now than a moment ago. Apparently, curses existed, but their effects were not something to worry about. Heinrich said curses didn't exist, but everyone else, even most of the people in this church believed that they did, and she was the target of it.

  While the others chatted on the ride back to the house, Aldine couldn't pull her thoughts away from her predicament. She didn't know what to do—if she could simply ignore all this about a curse and burning beds and just get on with her life. But then what if her life, on its current course, was very short? What if a curse was working to kill her that very moment?

  How did one simply ignore something like that? Silently, she watched the faces in the carriage with her. Heinrich and Ludwig rode horses next to the carriage, so it was only her, Elke and Wilhelmina being driven by Weber. As per usual, Wolfgang disappeared the moment the service was over and sought to spend his Sundays elsewhere. Did anyone know where he went?

  Lunch was served shortly after they returned and it was a nice meal. For a moment, everything seemed calm and jovial. Even Aldine could forget everything for a moment and simply enjoy herself. Heinrich seemed happy. How could he possibly be the one who hurt these women? How could he look at her and have dark thoughts about murdering her? He couldn't. But then could a curse simply act through him, make him an unwitting conduit? Could he be doing these things and not be aware of it?

  All these questions she had and no answers. Normally, she would find a book that would tell her the answers, but there weren't books for these questions. Who could she ask? The church obviously had no answers for her. Where did one find an expert on curses? This wasn't an issue she had ever dealt with in her life. Her parents would think she had lost her mind if she brought this up with them.

  After sitting in the salon for a while, Aldine sought the solitude of her room. No one, other than Anna, ever came in there, and today, she sat by the fire and watched the dark, cold weather outside. Her mind was too occupied to read or draw; it wouldn't let go of this constant panic she felt inside, the urge to do something, to fight.

  Her stomach clenched today, feeling out of sorts. Perhaps something from their lunch had not agreed with her. Or maybe it was simply nerves that made her feel so unsettled.

  The weather outside grew darker and darker, to the point where it was hard to see dusk coming. It was simply dark one moment when she looked up.

  A soft knock came at her door, and she knew it was Anna. "Come in," she called and the young maid silently entered the room.

  "Do you wish me to light the lamp?" she asked. The room had grown dark too.

  "Yes, I suppose," Aldine said. "I hope your walk to the house wasn't too horrid."

  "It's raining a little now," Anna said, who'd just come back from her day off.

  "How is your mother?" It was a guess, but where else would Anna go on a Sunday?

  "She is well. Shall I dress your hair?"

  Getting up, Aldine shifted to her dressing table, where Anna undid the pins holding her hair to brush it out before redressing.

  "You mentioned before," Aldine started, "about people believing there is a curse on this family."

  Anna remained silent, and Aldine knew she didn't like being questioned about these things.

  "If I wanted to find out more about curses, who would know?"

  "No one around here curses people," Anna said.

  "There must be some way of breaking a curse."

  Anna's eyes carefully sought her in the mirror. These things scared her and she didn't want to discuss it.

  "It's just that Reverend Stubbe was little help, and I think I need help."

  The maid shifted uncomfortably between her feet as she worked. "Maybe one of the elders? The Tober woman might know about such things. By the look of her, she's old enough to have witnessed the witch trials. I've heard that there are some that go to her for potions."

  "Potions?"

  "For conceiving—or the opposite," Anna finished quietly. "She knows forest remedies."

  Not exactly what Aldine wanted, but if she knew of such things, maybe she knew of curses as well. "Where is she found?"

  "Some miles away in the Gelling Forest."

  "She lives alone?"

  "No, there is a small village there. They have lived there for a long time."

  "Thank you," Aldine said, feeling like she had a lifeline. It may not solve anything, but at least she had someone to ask. Tober, this woman was called. It was the only hope she had.

  Chapter 18

  WITH A START, ALDINE awoke abruptly, again escaping the fire in her dreams. This time she had been running from Heinrich, feeling him chasing behind her. He'd called for her, but he hadn't meant her well.

  Her heart still pounding and her lungs fought for breath, her eyes frantically searched the darkness, but the whispers in her dreams seem to have follow
ed. It wasn't with her ears she heard them, but she still did. Whispers, too faint to understand. They were whispering about her, but she couldn't make out the words.

  Her nightgown was soaked through and the blankets felt incredibly hot, so she lifted them off, but wasn't greeted by the cold air she expected. It was still hot. Flames, like she had felt in her dreams. Was she still dreaming?

  "Heinrich," she said, seeing the dark form next to her, but he didn't wake.

  Flames licked her skin, traveling along her body as if the bed was on fire, forcing her to jerk back.

  "Heinrich," she called again and turned to shake him, but he still didn't wake. No one would sleep through that.

  Whispers continued and she looked around, trying to get her ears to identify a direction, but there was none. The heat came in currents, washing over her, her skin, her lips, her eyes. The bed truly felt like it was on fire.

  Scrambling out of bed, she moved away and was finally met with cold air—and silence. The room was dark and still, the floorboards cold under her bare feet. The cold air a balm to her skin and her ragged breath. Shaking fingers, she held them to her lips, her eyes darting around the room.

  Stepping closer, she felt the heat again, so she backed away. It was there; it was real. Moving back, she yelped as the back of her legs struck a chair. Sitting down, she tried to get her thoughts under control. She was not asleep. This was not a dream, but the heat had followed her into waking life. There were no flames, but the bed felt as if it was on fire. Josefina had said she'd experienced the same. This wasn't just her. The bed felt like it was on fire.

  Tucking her hands under her arms and crouching over, she looked back on the bed. Nothing was seen.

  "Heinrich," she called, but still he didn't wake. A noise made her startle, but she realized it was coming from beyond the closed door. Disbelievingly, she stared at the door, fearing it would open, but it didn't. Getting hold of herself, she walked to the door and threw it open, seeing nothing but a dark and silent hall. There wasn't a person standing on the other side—a witch wishing them ill. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

  It was even colder out in the hall and Aldine felt goosebumps rise along her arms. The fact that the nightgown was drenched didn't help.

  Taking a last look, and hoping deep in her heart that she didn't see anything that shouldn't be there, she returned to the bedroom and closed the door. Placing her head on the door, she closed her eyes, not knowing what to do. Something was going on—something dark and harmful. It was either centered around the bed or around Heinrich. Whatever it was affected him, because he would not rouse.

  Turning back, she stared at the bed. It looked so innocent, just a bed in the darkness with the sleeping form of a man. Slowly, taking a step closer, she tried to feel for the heat, but it wasn't there. Whatever it was, it had passed. No more heat, no more whispers.

  Her arms wrapped around her, her eyes searched the room for something out of place, but saw nothing.

  "Heinrich?" she called and finally he moved.

  "What?" Whatever had held him asleep had lifted too. "What are you doing out of bed?"

  "It was here, the curse."

  With a groan, he turned on his stomach. "Just go back asleep. You were dreaming."

  "I was not."

  But she did as she was told and crawled back under the sheets. The damp nightgown made it uncomfortable, but she waited a while until he was asleep before taking it off and letting it drop to the floor. Every night, she seemed to have to strip off her nightgown.

  What she really wanted was to be held, but she’d heard the annoyance in Heinrich's voice, so she tucked the blankets closer to her and tried to feel comfortable in a bed that had the habit of trying to burn her.

  Too much had happened for all this to be dismissed. She hadn't imagined the heat, or the whispers. A shudder passed through her at the thought. What were those whispers? Who were the people whispering? Were there ghostly presences watching them as they slept?

  Discomfort turned her stomach and she had to close her eyes, but also feared what went on around her if her eyes were closed. But there were no more whispers, or heat. In fact, the bed didn't seem to get warm at all. Her feet felt frozen, almost painful as she struggled to get heat into them.

  For a moment, misery got the better of her and all she wanted to do was run away and go home, but this was her home now. With this husband who didn't believe her that something strange and otherworldly was happening. If just morning would come. Light would chase all this darkness away, but there wasn't even a hint of light through the window.

  Aldine was awake when Heinrich woke, the sun having slowly crept in through the window. Sleep had been hard to get and she had lain there staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours.

  Heinrich rose and started dressing. "I will call for the doctor today."

  "This isn't me," Aldine said, sitting up in bed.

  "These dreams are stopping you from sleeping."

  "It wasn't dreams," she said. "Yes, dreams, but it was here when I woke. I could feel the fire. I heard whispers. I tried to wake you—you wouldn't wake. I shook you."

  "You're being hysterical. It was a dream and you are giving yourself over to nonsensical fantasy."

  "I am experiencing the same thing Josefina experienced. Exactly the same. Isn't that curious to you?"

  "No!" he said harshly. "I don't know what it is you want from me? I give you as much attention as I can."

  "Attention?" she said incredulously. "This isn't about attention. I don't want to die like all other of your brides. Something is happening here."

  "Nothing is happening here, other than you being overwrought and neurotic." Grabbing his jacket, he stormed out of the room.

  "Which in this house seems to come before death," she said to the door that just slammed shut. He didn't believe her, that much was clear. What more proof did he need? From his perspective there was no proof—except two dead brides. Would he take it seriously when he was burying her? All the good it would do her then.

  Exhaustion made her sluggish and miserable as she lay back down on the bed. Tears flowed down into her hairline. Her stomach was still an uncomfortable twist of nerves and ill ease. And soon she would have to face a doctor to treat her neurosis. God knew what he would do.

  How had this marriage turned into an utter nightmare? But she had a lifeline, this woman, Tober. Firstly, though, she didn't know where this woman lived, and she had no means of getting there. She could just imagine the look she would get if she asked Wilhelmina, or even Elke.

  Sleep was not going to come, she determined, so she got up and went through the door leading to her own room, where Anna had already lit a fire for her. Lying down on the bed, the exhaustion weighed down every part of her body. Could she insist she sleep in her own bed tonight? Whatever this was seemed tied to Heinrich, or his bed. Was she safer sleeping in another bed? Would the dreams leave her, the heat and the whispers? If it was the first time this had happened, she would question her own senses, but she had felt it when she'd first gotten here, and now that she knew others had felt it too, it only confirmed something was very seriously amiss—except no one believed her.

  Anna's soft knock sounded at the door, coming to help her dress. It would be another day of sheer exhaustion, and it was a good six hours until she could retreat back here for a nap. Napping in her own bed during the day had never given her any trouble, but the nights—they were horrendous, and they seemed to be getting worse.

  How could she beseech Heinrich to understand? How could she prove that this wasn't in her head? But he didn't even want to listen to her, dismissed her the moment she uttered something about it. And now they'd had harsh words. He'd called her overwrought and neurotic. Anyone who knew her would never accuse her of that—didn't he understand that? She wasn't a woman to give herself over to fanciful ideas. But every night, she dreamed of fire and awoke drenched in sweat.

  Could she be wrong? Could this be her a
nd her nerves were getting the better of her? It would be the logical conclusion over some age-old curse enacting its evil from the distant past. Still, she was going to find this Tober woman.

  Chapter 19

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, the doctor came. Hagen his name was, a neatly dressed young man with wavy hair. Heinrich wasn't there, but they met him in the salon. Wilhelmina had taken it upon herself to direct him, telling him that Aldine was having nightmares that stopped her from sleeping properly. Overwrought nerves were mentioned a few times. Apparently, her participation in this wasn't necessary. They spoke about her as if she wasn't there.

  Elke smiled intermittently, sitting quietly and listening to Wilhelmina and the doctor speak. At times their voices were hushed as if they didn't want her to hear what they were saying. Heinrich's concern was mentioned.

  With her head held high, there was nothing Aldine could do but sit there and let them talk about her. It was Heinrich's responsibility to see to her if her health was in jeopardy, even if he refused to listen to her concerns.

  Had this happened to Josefina too? There was mention of her being given pills and potions for her nightmares. The fact that she had died from a fever sent a thrill of fear down Aldine's back, the thought of lying in bed and burning up. She had some measure of what that felt like, the pervasive and piercing feeling of being trapped, of the heat refusing to relent.

  As she watched, Doctor Hagen leaned over his black doctor's bag and pulled out a bottle of pills, which he handed to Wilhelmina. "This should calm her nerves," he said. Biting her tongue, Aldine stopped herself from expressing that she was perfectly calm. They weren't interested. This was Heinrich's command and it was him they took direction from.

  Coming over, the doctor sat down on the small footstool next to her. He smiled calmly. "These will make you feel better. They calm nerves and will induce sleep."

  Keeping her tongue, she smiled back, fearing that if she relayed what she truly believed, he would recommend that she be hauled off to a madhouse. The last thing she wanted was to be deemed the troubled wife who needed more direct medical supervision. No sane person would seek that fate—to be experimented on with potions and terrifying lunacy treatments. Perhaps she was overreacting a little, but everyone heard the stories of ‘touched’ wives who spent the rest of their lives in madhouses.