The Bathory Curse

by Renee Lake

  “I am not a member of the Fae court, and since the battles began they have mostly disappeared from these woods any way. However I appreciate the amusement, now eat.”

  Cneajna went to join her and then stopped dead, “my children,” she muttered, a hand going to her chest as pain resided in there, deep and painful. It was as if a veil lifted in her mind and even more memories came swarming back, the most poignant was that she had children, ones she loved., “I can’t stay here.”

  “What?” Bendis asked, eyes darkening at the change in her new Strega.

  “My children…What is going to happen to my children?” Cneajna all but wailed it, “You have to let me go, oh please!” She begged.

  “Strega, quiet. I have said it before, you are not going anywhere, I am sorry, but you cannot return to them. Now, tell me about your children.” Bendis consoled her, again motioning for her to sit and eat.

  Cneajna sat and drank deeply from the goblet of wine the Goddess gave her. Her lower lip trembled as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

  “I have sons,” She drew in a straggled breath, “two of them. Mihnea is only two and Mihail is five.” Choking on a sob she took another drink, the alcohol warming in her stomach. Her eyes darted to the entrance, her skin crawling with the urge to get up and dart out.

  “If you leave the soldiers that are in these woods searching for you will find you. I will have no choice but to have them killed so they cannot spread rumors.” Bendis words stilled her craving to run.

  For a moment Cneajna didn’t care, every fiber of her being trembled with the need to be with her children, her family. She glared at the Goddess, hating her.

  Bendis closed her eyes and leaned back, a few moments later they popped open and focused on Cneajna, “what do you wish to know about your children, my Strega?”

  “Will they be all right…? Both were at the castle with me.” Her voice was small and scared.

  “Mihnea will live to the ripe age of 50 and shall follow in his father’s footsteps.” Bendis slitted her eyes, “but it is Mihail you really care about, tell me why.”

  “He is….different, quiet and strange… Vlad, doesn’t care for him. But he is a smart, sweet boy and I worry with me gone…Vlad may do something…” Cneajna admitted.

  “Mihail will only live to be 28 years old, I am sorry but I do not see his life turning out well.” Bendis didn’t want to tell Cneajna that her favorite son would die before his time, but it was better that she know.

  “You could be with him forever if you turn him into a Strigoi.” Bendis offered the solution on a whim; she didn’t normally recommend changing family members.

  “It wouldn’t damn his soul?” Cneajna asked, hesitant to do something so dark to her eldest son.

  “No, it might save him much pain and suffering, should you take him earlier than what I have foreseen.” Bendis began to eat again, watching Cneajna.

  “You’re sure?” She had to double check.

  “I am….he will never have a normal life, children, an occupation…but he can be happy, even find love if he so chooses.” Bendis tired of the subject. They sat in silence for a few moments, Cneajna mourning her children and pondering the Goddess’ words.

  “You will need a new name. You can longer go by the one you have.”

  “My mother called me Nea.” She answered absent mindedly, a deep hole in her chest as she thought about her sons.

  “That is good; I must also relocate you outside of your husband’s rule. As long as you follow my rules and do your job for me I will take care that you want for nothing.” Bendis said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You will have a home, money, a staff…anything you desire.”

  “I desire to be home with my sons.”

  “I am sorry,” and she was, “but I cannot do that.” Bendis finished her food, noting that Nea did not eat anymore.

  Finally the Goddess stood up, “now for the main reason I chose you.” She led her through another door, when it opened Nea found herself inside a small castle.

  “This is your new home, you are now in Transylvania. It has already been staffed and has been awaiting your arrival. You must lay low the next few months before beginning to venture out.”

  “How did you know I was going to die tonight?” Nea asked, her family home had been in Transylvania, her father a Voivode, at least something would be familiar, though she hadn’t been back in ten years or so.

  “I can see into the future, not all things, but enough.”

  “How long have you been waiting for me?” It was safe to say it was a little creepy, the thought she had been stalked by a Goddess, could she trust her? What if Bendis killed her for some personal gain? Again, thoughts that this was all a nightmare flittered through her mind.

  “Five years; had you not been destined to die young I would have grabbed you up after your natural demise.” Bendis pondered her young Strega for a moment and draped an arm around her shoulder, Nea shivered in the Goddess’ embrace. It was unnatural to be this close to such power, something so inhuman.

  “Your doubts are understandable, in time you will trust me…and yourself…completely. Now what do you think of your new home?” Her arm fell away and Nea relaxed.

  Chapter 2

  Nea looked around, it was smaller than what she was used to, but it still had the same cold and musty feel of the other castles she had lived in. At least it was clean and there was a huge fire already roaring in the main room. Nea could smell meat cooking in the kitchen and was happy that she would, at least, not be alone. The fox pups, which seemed to shadow the Goddess began to yip and ran off towards the kitchen. This made Nea smile, like the Goddess came here enough for them to be familiar with the cook. It also gave her a measure of relief, she didn’t know how to cook much, she had always had Roma servants

  Following Bendis up the stairs they came to a fork, the left hallway seemed to lead to bedrooms but the right led down a long hallway, she could see an arched entry way at the end. It was lit with torches, there were no windows and it seemed to be the only place no one had cleaned: a layer of dust coated the rugs and cobwebs hung from the corners.

  “It’s nice, but I don’t understand, why do you even have this place? It’s too old to have been built just for me.” She grimaced as her feet left prints in the dust; naturally whatever she needed to be shown was down the grime covered hallway.

  “It was built over 100 years ago for a Strega who has since passed away,” A shadow fell over her eyes, “it now belongs to you.”

  “Thank you, it is interesting,” Nea walked under the arch and into a portrait gallery, a questioning look on her face.

  Bendis took a deep breath and walked after her, “You are descended from a very old line Nea. You were born a Bathory and that is no small deed. What you do not know is that your mother ran away because of the curse that lies with Bathory women.”

  “My mother never mentioned her family.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a second. Bathory women are almost never mentioned in history because of the horrible things they did and most die young. The men hide their secrets well and keep the records of their wives, daughters and sisters buried. That ritual will change though and some of the evil that the women of your family have done will eventually come to the light.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Nea ran a finger along the edge of the wall and blew away dust.

  “Yes, I have foreseen that some of them will do wonderful things, in the future, if the curse is broken. However, with one rumor surfacing, one horrible tale making it into written record those women will have to take a different name and the Bathory line will fade from existence.” Bendis explained.

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” Nea commented, so what if they had to change their names to avoid pass atrocities, many families did.

  “It is more difficult than that. It is a curse Nea and with all curses the main issue is deeper than that.”

  “Tell me.”<
br />
  “I cannot yet. You must just trust me and do as I say.”

  “Are these portraits of the women in my family?” Nea asked the stupid question, because she needed to, and if she wasn’t going to get anymore answers from Bendis about the curse she might as well get some on a different topic.

  “Yes, I chose you because your mother was the first of her line to lead a good pure life and die of natural causes. She was a rarity, since the curse was cast no woman has escaped it.”

  “There are not many women born to the Bathory line, are there?” Nea questioned, the room had only eight portraits in it.

  “Well, women who survived past puberty.” Bendis acknowledged, “For every Bathory woman in whom the curse activates and dies a new portrait blossoms.”

  “How is that possible? There should be dozens of girl children born throughout the years.”

  “Aside from normal maladies like sickness, girl children do not survive in Bathory households. The curse has a strong hold on your family and the men tend to murder them young, whether right after birth or later when the fear takes hold. Several Bathory men and women have chosen abstinence or sterilization instead of breeding new generations with the capacity for insanity and violence.”

  “Sterilization?” She hoped she understood the word correctly. As far as Nea knew there were few things you could do to stop an unwanted pregnancy, but nothing like what the Goddess was talking about.

  “There are herbs and some less than reputable doctors have a new surgical procedure, but both have severe side effects, like death and deformation.” Bendis sounded like she disapproved and Nea was glad.

  “Enough of this ghastly subject, I still have much to tell you.” She motioned to the pictures.

  Nea spied an empty picture frame first, it was white wood and looked like the painting had been ripped out.

  “Who was that?” She touched the plaque beneath it that had been scratched so feverishly it was almost unreadable, she could barely make of the dates: 1290-1321. She could feel the emotion around the emptiness, someone had wanted to eradicate all evidence of whoever had inhabited this picture and had done a decent job.

  “Nothing…a mistake.” Never had the Goddess sounded so harsh and cruel. Nea held her tongue, understanding to pry was to risk more than the other woman’s anger. She decided there would be a time to get the answers she needed.

  The first portrait was of a young woman, maybe 17 years old; her dark blonde hair was in a net under a pale yellow pill box hat held on by a chin strap. She had on a loose gown, matching the hat, with tight sleeves. Underneath it the plaque read: Viva Bathory 1321-1340.

  “This is where the story mostly begins Nea. With Viva, she consorted with things humans are not supposed to and became pregnant. Her husband was sterile and knew it. After the child was born Viva was tried for witchcraft and killed. They would have killed the babe, but even then I took an active interest in your family.” Bendis touched the portrait’s frame with emotion.

  “Why do you care about my family so much?” Nea asked, the Goddess speared her with a dark look that sent shivers down her spine.

  “That is none of your business Strega, you are to listen and do as you are told.” Taking a deep breath, Bendis moved on.

  “What happened to her child?” Nea asked. She didn’t like being told what to do, but arguing with a Goddess? That was a bad idea.

  “It was a son, who died before he reached his tenth birthday.” Bendis answered.

  “Did you raise him?” Nea figured that’s what she meant by intervened.

  “No I asked some monks to take him in. I didn’t want his lineage to affect his chances of a good life…It seemed I didn’t need to worry.” And that was the end of that.

  The next portrait was of a rather homely girl. Her light brown curls were crammed under a gray linen cap. She wore a dark blue floor length gown fitted with a black ribbon under her breasts.

  “Madalina Bathory 1355-1370” Nea read. “So young.”

  “This portrait gallery is special, but I wouldn’t recommend coming in here too often. Touch the frame.” Bendis suggested.

  Nea took a few steps forward and placed her hand on the dark wood that surrounded the picture. Her hand tingled almost painfully, when she went to pull away Bendis stopped her.

  “Wait.” the Goddess said. The tingle ran up her hand engulfing her whole body, her eyesight dimmed and when it came back into focus the picture seemed brighter and a voice filled her mind: A young girl, quiet, but passionate began to speak.

  “Father says they are beheading me tomorrow. It is because they are all jealous, yes, that’s it: jealous…of me, my ideas, my mind…that I am not just some stupid girl. They are angry with me for grandfather’s death, that I told lies about him and some of my uncles, lies that made them sound untrustworthy in town.

  “Who cares if they were not true, I own this town now! The people had begun to think I was the only one in my family worthy to rule here….but now….now, it’s over. Father and mother are going to disown me. Mother said they won’t even bury me with the rest of the family after what I did to Hanna….How was I to know the slave master I sold her to would rape and murder her so quickly? It’s not my…”

  Nea pulled her hand away before she could hear more, Bendis motioned her on.

  “No, I don’t want to.” Nea shook her head.

  “It’s important you know and this is the best way for you to connect to your family.”

  The girl in the next picture had a striking resemblance to Nea, dark blue eyes and long black hair, though she was much thinner than Nea and her face much more striking. She was painted up in a way most women didn’t dare and in garments that suggested mourning. Nea read out loud, “Jozsa Bathory 1385-1407.” Nea repeated the gesture, magic filling her until the room seemed more in focus and then words seemed to fill the gallery, this time the voice sounded older, huskier.

  “They just don’t understand me. I am not like other women, I don’t enjoy strange men to put their hands on me. It feels so much better when it’s a brother, or uncle, or even grandfather!” Laughter, sultry, filled Nea’s ears.

  “It is even better when they are willing to pay me to keep our relationship a secret. But now that time is over…they killed my Sara, my precious baby girl, simply because she was Stephen’s. Took her away not even dry from my body and murdered her. So now that I know I carry twins from my beloved Stephen I will do anything to make sure they are taken care of. I have to, for I am going to die, I can see the sores on my body and feel the weakness in my soul. I will have Stephen take them away and hide them so my family cannot find them!”

  “Who was Stephen?” Nea asked

  “Her little brother.”

  “What happened to the girls?”

  “They spent the first ten years in a secret place with their father; he died from the same disease as their mother. They were found by their grandparents and brought home. They should have been killed on sight, but the grandmother was beside herself with grief and begged for their lives.

  Nea’s eyes settled on the faces in the next frame. There were two women in this frame. The girls looked exactly alike with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. They sat together, holding hands. They both wore long high waisted black gowns with v necks showing purple under gowns beneath. They had purple cone shaped hennins on their heads with veils.

  The plaque beneath was inscribed: Agata and Marta Bathory 1405-1431

  “They seemed to like purple,” Nea knew it was obvious but she had never so much as heard the name of her mother’s relatives before and was at a loss for words.

  “Yes, it was their signature color; they gave every lover a purple scarf and left purple fabric at every crime.”

  “Jozsa’s daughters.” Nea stepped forward for a closer look, took a deep breath and slapped her palm against the frame. A masculine, but female, voice filled her mind.

  “They are going to catch us, Marta.”

  A higher pitch
ed and breathy voice answered, “I know. I could see it on their faces.”

  “I think it’s time, don’t you?”

  “To die together?”

  “Of course. We will kill our husbands and then ourselves. They won’t mind, they knew this day would come.”

  “They had to; I mean they couldn’t think the stealing and all of us fucking each other wouldn’t come without a price.”

  “When we go I want it to be with my face between your legs.”

  “Oh Agata, you are so wicked. Of course my love, of course.” The words died away with their combined laughter.

  Nea pulled away sickened and moved on. She didn’t like the looks of the next member of her family. A sour faced dirty blonde, she was overweight with small blue eyes. She didn’t seem like she even wanted to be painted. Her black and blue dress was frumpy and she seemed to be rather unkempt, she wasn’t even wearing a hat. In the picture she was holding a book.

  “Were all the women in my family educated and intelligent?” She asked

  Nea was well learned for a woman; her mother had taught her to read and her father had encouraged her to learn other languages and to write. It was very rare and Nea had never quite understood her mother’s passion for the written word.

  “Yes. Nothing holds a Bathory back. This one wrote some very twisted poetry you can find in the library.” Bendis motioned to unkempt girl.

  “This is your great aunt Catharine.” Bendis said. Nea read the plaque and saw the dates were more recent 1415-1440.

  The voice that came was weak and sad, tired and dry.

  “They have forgotten about me down here, they are simply going to let me waste away and die down here. I can hear them upstairs, my mama is weeping and so is Margaretha, my brothers’ sound so angry. I can smell their supper, the eggs they had for breakfast, the wine mama always buys for Sunday meal, and I am so hungry and so thirsty.