Forever Midnight

by Kate Hill

His booming voice filled the castle, as he called out to the servants.

  “Get dressed,” Maria ordered. “If his evil mother has returned for Filip, then ya alone stand between them.”

  “Me?” she questioned. “I am nu witch. I have nu power ta stop her.”

  “Da, ya do Zolona. Look inside ya and speak yer heart.”

  Running up the stairs to her room, she pulled a dress over her head and left without taking the time to have the back buttoned up. The wind tore at her hair as she ran. Tears streamed down her face at the thought of being too late. Her breath came in harsh labored gasps and her side burned as she entered the clearing at the lake.

  A thick swirling fog surrounded the gazebo. Lightning flashed within the stone pillars. His face pale, her father stood rooted in fear before the fog. Zolona did not know what awaited her inside, but with her courage bolstered by the words Maria had spoken, she ran past her father and into the gazebo.

  Helen Garlanzo hovered over the Altar of Sacrifice and the body of her son. “Ya dare ta think ya can stop me. Ya have nu power over me. Filip is mine,” her evil cackle filled the ruins. Lightning danced across the floor and around the stone where Filip lay.

  “I command ya to leave!” Zolona boldly took a step towards the body of Filip lying on the stone.

  “Ya command me.” Her evil laugh sounded like thunder. “By what authority do ya make such ridiculous request?” Helen demanded.

  Look inside ya and speak yer heart. “I love Filip.”

  “Nu!” The cloud turned dark, blotting out the sun. “Ya do not!”

  “I do.” Her heart swelled with joy, “and Filip loves me. Yer evil cannot harm us.”

  Filip struggled to sit up. “Ya know in yer wicked heart what she speaks is true. Be gone from here back ta the fires of hell and may ya burn forever, in yer envy and hatred.”

  Zolona ran to him, placed his good arm over her shoulder, and staggered under his weight out of the gazebo. A pillar of fire rose from the center of the floor and engulfed the ruins. A large plume of black, rolling smoke towered overhead and a brilliant flash of light momentarily blinded them.

  Her sight slowly returned. The ruins were gone. In its place, stood a gazebo made of white marble. “What has happened?” She stared at the beautiful structure. “Where did that come from?”

  Filip chuckled. “It has been here all along, obscured by Mother’s hate and the curse, for four hundred years. It was built for the day I would take a bride. According ta the lore of the land, if the marriage vows are said with the couple kneeling on the altar, the bride would bear strong children and the land would prosper.”

  “Is it true, or just a myth?”

  “I do not know, but I am willing ta find out.” Filip lifted his hand to her face. “If ya will kneel with me on the altar and be my wife.”

  Her heart swelled up with joy and she found it difficult to see. Turning her head, she took courage in the tear-blurred image of her father’s smiling face. She lifted her face to his, “I do love ya, Filip, my shadow-time lover. I would be honored ta be yer wife.”

  His lips touched hers in a sweet, tender kiss.

  Chapter Eight

  Zolona sat relaxing in the bath and lifted her chalice as Maria poured more wine. With all the preparations for the wedding, this was a well-needed break. Guests arrived all day and the brother of Richard, Basarab Governor of Valachia, made a grand entrance to the castle and sleeping space soon included the floor of the great hall and the courtyard.

  “I take it Filip is still determined ta live at the other end of the estate.” Maria laid her head on Zolona’s shoulder. “I shall miss ya living so far away.”

  Zolona sighed. “I am sure ya will, but it is only a short journey.”

  “I think all the fuss over this wedding is a waste.” Charline replied with biting sarcastic malice. “After all, it is not like ya are a virgin.”

  “Like you were, Charline,” Maria giggled and sat up.

  “At least I did not run naked around the castle or come riding in at dawn with pine straw in my hair.”

  “Please,” Zolona begged. “Can not this petty snobbery between us be put aside?”

  Standing, she stepped from the pool. Light from the torches reflected off the water droplets clinging to her skin. Maria quickly rose, picked up a wrap, and draped it around her.

  “Charline,” Zolona paused to gather her words, “as a sister, I love ya even when ya are a pain in the ass.”

  The Charline’s face turned red, and her hand flew to her open mouth.

  With a smirk, Maria whispered, “How does it feel ta be on the receiving end for once?”

  “Good night, Sisters.” Zolona left the bath, made her way through the inner bailey, and climbed the stairs to her room. This night gave little chance of satisfying the craving of her body. Instead of sharing her bed with Filip, she was stuck with the sister of Richard and the portly wife of the Governor for bed partners. Making matters worse, the lady snored.

  With her hand on the latch, she paused as the sound of continuous chatter reached her ears. Zolona leaned her head on the cold stonewall and groaned. Turning away from her door, she took the stairs to the castle wall.

  She reached the darkened parapet and the night breeze cooled her heated flesh. The song of the whippoorwills along the river filled the air. Below, torches and campfires burned giving light and warmth to those who had not yet sought their bed. A horse whinnied in the corral and another answered. In the distance, somewhere in the mountains, a cat cried, a wolf howled for his mate, and the little foxes sang to the moon.

  “Come ta me, my love,” she whispered to the wind.

  The soft tread of footsteps intruded into the peacefulness of the night and she held her breath. It would not do to be discovered alone on the wall so late at night, especially if the person had stayed too long in his cups.

  “My little wolfkin,” the low sensual voice of her beloved reached her ears. “Ya should not be up here.” His hands clasped her waist and crept up and around her to cup her breasts.

  “I am not alone, now.” She laid her head back against his solid shoulder. “My shadow-time lover is with me.” At the movement, she felt his body tense. “Forgive me, my love. In the joy of your presence, I forgot the injury the beast delivered.”

  “Think nu more upon the beast, nor upon the past.” His fingers loosened the sash of her wrap and the material parted. The light touch of his fingers against her breasts sent a thrill of expectation to pool between her legs.

  She lifted her hand to caress his face and her fingers raked through his hair, still wet from his bath. Her other hand slipped between them, her fingers crept inside his robe, and wrapped around the hard length of his cock. A low, trembling groan drifted across her ear.

  “Can ya not wait one more night, my love?” she teased as her fingers stroked his throbbing flesh.

  His hand dropped lower, fingers slid through the musk-dampened hair and into the wet folds of her flesh. “Ahhhh,” her long tortured moan, although whispered, seemed loud in the dark shadows of the walkway.

  “Is it my lady’s request? Do ya wish me ta stop?”

  Zolona rocked her hips against his probing fingers. “Nu, my lord.” Turning her head, she sought his mouth and welcomed the fire of his kiss.

  “Ya have made me a wanton woman.” She let go of his cock and lifted her hand to the wall for support.

  “Tomorrow, I shall make you my wanton wife, but for tonight I seek a woman ta satisfy my desire.” His tongue captured hers and sucked on it.

  “Seek nu further, my love.” She ground her hips against him. The length of his cock pressed against her from behind and she leaned over the parapet wall.

  Filip lifted the thin material of her wrap. She felt the probing head of his cock seeking entrance and then sliding inside her. Zolona bit back the cry of pleasure lest the guard below her hear and look up.

  “Ya are so wet. Yer be well prepared.”

  His heat
dispelled the chill of the stone against her flesh. The roughness of the rock against the aroused nipples of her breast clouded her thoughts. “Ya conspired…with Maria…ta seduce me?”

  “Da,” his low sensuous chuckle stirred her hair as he bent over her. “I followed ya from the bath, hoping ya would seek the shadows and we could be together.”

  “I asked the night spirits ta send ya ta me.”

  Filip drove her into the wall with his savage thrusts. The sensual slap of flesh on flesh filled her ears and drove the night sounds away. His low grunts brought a smile and she ground her hips against his. Fingers clutched at her hips, pulling her hard against him.

  His legs trembled against hers and his body shook. Heat flooded through her. Zolona placed her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out as his climax triggered her own and lifted her up where the eagles dwelt, to the snow-covered peaks of the towering Carpathians. She soared on the winds of desire before falling into the refuge of the arms of her shadow-time lover.

  Filip held her for several minutes before breaking away and pulling out of her. “Come, my love,” he whispered against her hair. “It is with much regret I must return ya ta yer room.”

  “I do not wish ta go.” She turned within his arms and placed her head on his shoulder as her arms snaked around his waist.

  “Richard will soon be off watch and we will be discovered.” He kissed her forehead and then her nose. “But after tomorrow, we will not have ta be apart in the night.” His lips touched hers in tenderness, and with the promise of tomorrow.

  His fingers quickly tied the sash of her wrap below her breasts. Taking her hand, he led her back inside the castle walls and to her door. With a final kiss, he turned away and the night shadows covered him.

  Zolona finger combed her hair and straightened her wrap. Lifting the latch she entered her room. There was space on the bed but if she had to sleep with someone who snored like a man, that person better have a cock, too. No wonder it was rumored that the Governor and his wife slept in different rooms.

  Quietly crossing the floor, she sat on the window seat and leaned against the sill, staring out into the night. She was happy and at peace.

  * * * * *

  A gentle hand shook her awake. The late morning sunlight brightened the balcony and spilled across the floor. Zolona lifted her head and gave Maria a kiss on the cheek.

  “Come, and I will wash away the essence of yer night meeting with yer beloved.”

  Zolona took her hand, stood, and walked with Maria behind the privacy curtain. A tub filled with steaming water awaited her. Maria untied the wrap and it dropped to the floor.

  Stepping over the side of the tub, Zolona eased herself into its encompassing heat and the sensuous fragrance of the rose. “Ah, it feels so wonderful,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

  Maria washed her with care, preparing her for the wedding later that day. “We have good men.”

  “Da,” Zolona answered in a soft relaxed whisper.

  “They understand the close bond that be between us ever sense I came to live with ya after me dear parents were killed. They will not deny us our time together.”

  “Da,” Zolona opened her eyes and smiled. “Ya think, perhaps they would like to watch?” She lifted her lips to Maria and took her mouth in a tongue-probing kiss.

  Maria broke the kiss and ran her fingers across her breasts. “Perhaps.”

  She stood and picked up a towel. “Come, there is much to do before the wedding.”

  Maria dried her off and picked up a long white cotton gown trimmed with red lace, and short off-the-shoulder sleeves. Over the gown, she placed an apron covered with red and purple flowers, and golden feathers of the peacock.

  “I have never seen this before.” Zolona ran her hands over the tiny stitching of the design.

  “It is my wedding present ta ya.”

  “It is very beautiful, Maria.” She gave her a hug. “Thank ya.”

  Going down to the great room, she found servants scurrying around sweeping the floor, cleaning the table, and laying new reeds and flowers on the floor. Dogs sniffed the floor for bones hidden away in the bedding only to find them gone.

  Outside in the courtyard, a sense of enthusiastic chaos hovered under the surface of growing tension. With the wedding only hours away the final preparations for the feast were well underway. Large spits, turned by young boys from the village, held sides of beef, pigs, and roasts of mutton.

  Toddlers ran naked through the crowd playing and adding to the festive atmosphere permeating the courtyard. More guests arrived from the surrounding countryside and the activities spilled over outside the castle walls.

  A special gift arrived from the Governor of Valachia, a wagon bearing three barrels of oysters straight from the Black Sea, and a barrel of his finest wine.

  The wedding feast would last for days.

  She wandered over to the chapel. Having been purged from evil with a liberal sprinkling of salt, the new priest stood before the altar confirming wedding vows, christening babies, and offering sacraments.

  She watched for a while and turned away, confused seeing little difference between the priests and the old witch. If they were so powerful, why had the old woman been able to laugh at their Holy Water and eventually drive them from the estate?

  “Wait, child.”

  Zolona looked up into the face of Lord Basarab, Governor of Valachia. “Da, Sire.” She bowed her head and curtsied. She rose to her feet but kept her eyes lowered.

  “What power broke the evil curse of the witch?” he asked.

  She lifted her eyes to his kind face. There was no condemnation or rebuke, only a comforting smile. The words of Maria came to mind. “The power of love, my lord.”

  “So this love,” he paused, “was more powerful than the evil?”

  “Da.” Had his lordship been reading her thoughts?

  “The God of love, whom these people now worship openly, has shown mercy ta the land. He does not demand their allegiance, but waits for it ta be freely given, from the heart.”

  It was as if the sun had burst through the darkness of her confusion and she smiled.

  “Will you go with me ta the priest, and give yer allegiance to the True Power, the God of Heaven?” He held out his hand to her.

  “Da,” she whispered and glanced around in apprehension. “If He will have me, I will.”

  “He turns none away.” The Governor offered his arm and she placed her hand on it. He led her to the altar and knelt with her as the priest offered up prayers on her behalf.

  She lost track of time as she listened to the priest. Feeling a tug on her arm, she rose with Governor Basarab, walked with him down the aisle, and stepped outside. Maria came running up to her.

  “There you are.” She clutched at her breast, her sides heaving. “I have searched for ya until I am near beside myself. We must hurry and dress for the wedding.”

  Zolona lifted her eyes to the mountains. Where had the day gone? “Da, I’m coming.”

  She turned to the Governor, curtsied, and kissed his hand. “Thank ya, my lord. Now if ya will excuse me.”

  Taking Maria’s hand, they ran across the courtyard through the throng of guests.

  * * * * *

  Shadow-time quickly approached. Zolona came down the stairs wearing a wedding gown of imported dark blue Chinese silk and a wreath of edelweiss woven through her hair. Her father waited at the foot of the stairs and held out his hand.

  “Ya make a beautiful bride, my daughter.” He kissed her cheek. “The Governor and I feel it best if the name of Garlanzo never surfaces again, and Filip agrees. Everyone has been sworn ta secrecy and his true identity will never be known.”

  “Even Sister Charline?” she asked with great doubt.

  “Da!” he laughed. “Even she has been warned ta hold her tongue. Although,” he winked, “the task may prove too taxing for her.”

  He led Zolona out of the castle and paused. The scene before her had been altere
d dramatically. The animals were gone, except for the dogs looking for free handouts around the fire pits. Long tables filled the yard and the tantalizing aroma of cooked meat assaulted her senses. Placing her hand over her stomach, she waited for the butterflies to leave.

  A path of flower petals led out of the castle and with her hand on the arm of her father, she left the castle and followed the flower-strewn cobblestone path. Torches burned along the way sending shadows dancing through the trees. The sweet perfume of their oil filled the air.

  Stepping into the clearing, the heady fragrance of freshly cut hay hung heavy over the area and assaulted her senses with every step. The wedding chapel, awash with the light from a hundred torches greeted her. Inside, Filip and the priest waited at the stone altar.

  Her father led her to the chapel and stepped inside. Kissing her on each cheek, he placed her hand in the hand of Filip and stepped back. Together they knelt on the stone altar.

  The priest lit two large white candles, one on each side of the altar and began reading from the 127th Psalm. She had secretly hoped the ceremony would be short, but it was not to be, as the priest began to offer up prayers for each noble in attendance, and, it seemed, for every person living and dead the priest had ever known. Next he went through the church history from creation of Eve from the rib of Adam to the Christ dying on the cross. “…Blessed is the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, now and forever.”

  He paused and all those assembled sang “Amen”.

  He picked up the marriage crowns. Her sigh of relief of it being almost over changed to a whispered groan as the priest again started petitioning God for His blessing of the crowns. First by reminding Him of Adam and Eve in the garden, and progressing through the patriarchs and saints of the Holy Book.

  She was only half listening to the priest, wishing the ceremony were over, when part of his prayer became very personal. “…bless Zolona and the fruit of her womb. May her children rise up and be great. Blessed is the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, now and forever.