Amrita brought the Murano glass bowl, and the crystal glasses, and then, with a deep silver spoon, she took out some of the light red drink. As soon as the luscious juice touched the doctor’s tongue, the only thing he could think about was whether the witch’s brew poisons him. It was apparently the most delicious punch he has ever tasted, but Amrita’s proximity, smell and the suspicion that wormed its way into his heart, made him say good-bye to the ladies as soon as possible, and leave.
When Catherine and Amrita were left alone, the princess flung her arms around the girl’s neck and squeezed her so much she could hardly breathe.
“I wish you had come to the court earlier! But I don’t want to be dissatisfied, because the future crown prince is on its way, and then nine more children are going to arrive!” She released the clench and looked into Amrita’s eyes seriously. “You can ask me for anything. Do you understand? Anything!”
“Thank you, but I have everything I need.”
Catherine smiled conspiratorially.
“Don’t you want to be the doctor’s wife? He is an honored, wealthy gentleman, and it's obvious to anybody with eyes how he gazes at you! I'll arrange for him to propose you, just say the word.”
“Oh no!” It slipped out of Amrita’s mouth too quickly.
“Do you consider him old? But he is in his prime! All right, if you prefer the younger ones, just give me a name. Who do you like?”
“Nobody, and I don’t want to get married at all,” she swayed her head.
“Don’t say such things, every girl wants to get married,” laughed Catherine. “Oh, I see, you must have been crossed in love, because you were disappointed in someone. Who was that bastard that gave you pain? We will punish him!”
“Nobody gave me pain….”
“Then you are hopelessly in love!” The princess got into the swing of guessing. “Is he married already?”
“There’s nothing like that…” Amrita shook her head, and the conversation started to become increasingly embarrassing for her.
“Well then, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s not a must,” Catherine gave up sulkily. “But don’t tell me you don’t like the earl de la Roux either! I saw it from my window as he ran after you in the park when you were walking with the doctor. I bet he didn’t skitter because of Michel!”
Amrita blushed, and it extremely annoyed her that there is something even witches cannot control, despite their magic abilities.
“Oh, of course, you like him! Your complexion does not lie!” The princess winked playfully.
“All right, I admit that I find him attractive,” whispered Amrita as if she was afraid that the man might hear it. “But please, don’t tell him a word about this!”
“What’s wrong with you? Probably, you must have caught his attention,” said Catherine uncomprehendingly.
“Please don’t interrogate me about this,” the girl glanced at the floor, and she raised her eyes after a long while.
She felt terribly bad that she has to conceal things from her mistress, but she avoided lying as much as she could, and she obviously could not tell the truth either: that she has been in love with Morgan, the blood-sucker, for several millennia, who besieged her since time immemorial, and who is also immortal just like her, the witch. “Immortal”, she was savoring the word, and she knew it well that it does not mean that they cannot be destroyed at all.
Chapter 9
Vengeance
Louvre, Paris – 3 May 1543
“Milady, Doctor Nostradame would like to talk with you,” her maid awkwardly stopped next to Diane.
Princess Poitiers gave one last glance in the mirror, and acknowledged the sight contently. The light rays of the morning sun glittered on her maroon curls, and the rouge powder masked the dark circles that the insomnia drew under her eyes. She has hardly slept for days; terrible presentiment disturbed her thoughts, the reason of which she did not understand. She rubbed some more rouge powder on her cheeks and lips, and then said with a sigh:
“All right, I'll receive him. Show him in!”
The doctor was approaching with soft steps, and then he stopped next to the sofa. Before he bowed, he noticed that trouble shaded the princess’ forehead.
“Excuse-me, Ma’am, for disturbing you at such an early hour, but due to the issue at hand, I took the liberty of visiting you, and it allows for no delay.”
When he uttered these words, Amrita appeared again in front of his mental eyes as she was lying in the arms of earl de la Roux or d’Angerville or whatever was the name of that hellhound. He knew that the girl could never be his, because apart from the fact that her heart has already long been taken, according to all indications, the wheel of time does not turn equally for the two of them either. The glimmering hope at the time of seeing her again was pushed into a dark, bottomless pit by the emergence of the earl, and it also irrevocably confronted him with the fact that he squandered his love to an unearthly creature.
“What’s wrong doctor? Your words and features frighten me,” said Diane, and waved to the maid to leave them alone.
“I must inform you of two bad pieces of news; moreover, these are in correlation.”
“Come on, Michel!
“First of all, you have to know that Princess Catherine is pregnant for some days, and she will give birth to a boy within nine months.”
“What?! But how could this be possible?” The noble lady’s face grew pale at first just to burst into flames in the following moment. “But that woman is infertile!”
“Not anymore…”
“Are you sure? How could anyone know about a pregnancy after a few-days?!”
“Milady, maybe you have already heard that I have certain abilities, which help me to see the future.”
“All right, let’s assume that you’re telling the truth. According to these, a miracle has happened?”
“Yes, we can say that,” nodded Michel. “And we can also say that someone made a miracle.”
“Please, Doctor, don’t speak in riddles! I’m at the end of my patience,” whispered Diane with the calmness of a simmering volcano.
“Well, here is when the other bad piece of news comes into the picture,” continued Michel, exhilarated, because he knew that he found his match for his plans with the woman. “A witch is living in the court, near the crown prince and his wife. This wench helped Catherine with black magic to get pregnant by her husband.”
“Who is that?!”
“Amrita du Bois, the princess’ lady,” Michel uttered the name, and it discouraged him that by mentioning the girl’s name, his heart still sank.
“That little whore!” hissed Diane, and the feast came to her mind where Henri glutted his eyes on the red-haired girl. “I should have got rid of her when she first queered my pitch…”
“And this is still not the end of the story,” said the Doctor languidly. “I’m so sure about this, because I knew Amrita in my youth as well. At that time, she lived in Arles, and she was twenty-five years old as was I. But since then, I became forty years old, and she has not aged a single day. Then, she was, and still she is, the lover of earl d’Angerville, but the earl is known under another name, and he also hasn't aged,” after a short pause, he added: “He is Morgan de la Roux, whom you also like very much as far as I know.”
By mentioning the name, Diane lifted up her head. She was sure that the Doctor told her this because he is well aware that she is also the lover of the earl.
“Morgan is a witch too?” She asked, and thought that nothing else could explain his witchy skills in the bed, and elsewhere.
“Oh, no, he is something else,” Michel swayed his head. “Worse. He is a vampire.”
“What the heck?” The princess was taken aback.
“Blood-sucker. When I was a medical student in Montpellier, several mysterious deaths happened, and all the clues led to the earl. Of course, nothing could have been proven, but I knew that there was something wrong with him. Each and all of the
victims were young girls with two tiny wounds, the size of a pinprick, on their necks, and all drops of blood disappeared from their bodies.”
“By gosh…” Diane’s eyes widened. “One of my maids, Claire is really pale, and few days ago I thought I saw such wounds on her neck that you have just mentioned, Doctor.”
“Well, you can see Milady; none of them gave up their evil practices. We have to stop these demonic creatures!”
The princess was deep in her thoughts. She was more practical and utilitarian than to decide about someone’s fate on the basis of whether the person is virtuous or demonic. The red-haired girl has to die, she had no doubt about that, and not just because she caught Henri’s eyes. If she really helped Catherine to get pregnant, she has to be punished, because the birth of the successor to the throne causes unpredictable consequences for Diane. So far, she could easily play the role of the first woman of the future king because his infertile wife could not have a say in anything. But if Catherine gives birth to a boy, who is going to be the successor to the throne, the situation in the court will undergo a great change. And from that time on, she will have much less influence… And it is also not acceptable if that red-haired woman mesmerizes Morgan, because although it is obvious that the man has been in several beds apart from hers, but as long as these beds belong to simple womenfolk, it does not upset her. However, she did not want to fight for the earl’s favors with a witch. But what will Morgan’s fate be? It is obviously out of the question to give up the luscious hours spent with him.
“All right Doctor, I'll help you to commit the slut to the flames, but on the condition that earl de la Roux doesn’t get hurt.”
Nostradame’s penetrating glance sank into the princess’ eyes. It was no doubt that such voluptuous passion fetters the woman to the earl whom he had better not to disturb, because otherwise, he would turn Diane against himself.
“Let it be then,” nodded Michel, because it was not de la Roux who's trampled down his heart, but Amrita.
“I’ll give a command to the guards to arrest her,” Diane set out towards the door.
“I suggest you to take her to Arles where many people remember her,” said Nostradame. “So, not only my confession goes against her.”
“Why? Isn’t that enough?” The princess stopped.
“It is, of course. But Amrita seems to be so kind and innocent. It wouldn’t be good if people thought that only my malice sends her to the flames.”
“I see Doctor. You want to protect your own reputation as well. Let it be this way then. I'll call the guard.”
She stepped out to the corridor, and then through the open window, she called out to the soldiers waiting in the castle’s yard.
“Go and arrest Amrita du Bois, the princess’ lady! If she is not in her room, search all over the palace for her!” Then, she turned to the doctor: “Let’s go there! I want to see Catherine’s face when her main confidante is arrested!”
When they got to the room opposite to the suite of the ducal couple, the guards have already torn the door open, and they were pulling Amrita out to the corridor. Catherine came forward to the noise, and she was gazing at the chaos, flabbergasted. Diane’s malevolent look left no doubt that it was not only some kind of a foolish mistake.
“Amrita du Bois, you are hereby under arrest for witchcraft!” Michel shouted hoarsely and looking in the man’s eyes, Amrita knew that the end has come.
Chapter 10
Flames flare up
Langeais, Paris, Avignon – 6-7 May 1543
The light rays of the morning sun just danced around the corridor when a slender blonde woman left one of the luxurious bedrooms of the five hundred and fifty-year-old castle of Langeais. Earl de la Roux, next to whom she got up, was still deep asleep among the black silk-covered pillows of the carefully carved canopy bed. However, next to the edges of the heavy, full-length brocade curtains, the sun tried to peek in vain, only a few narrow beams of rays reached the gilded clock, ticking on the opposite wall of the room. The big hand unhurriedly, but relentlessly, crawled towards twelve, and then, when reaching it, the clockwork started to ding-dong loudly.
Morgan de la Roux sat up in bed with one agile motion, and gazed at the clock that showed eight. He never wakes up at this time, although the old machine indicated every hour on every single day with the same loudness. The man was not scared by the tolling of the clock, but by an obscure and more pressing feeling that broke from out of his guts.
“Her hour has struck…” He murmured in front of himself, but only slowly, gradually realizing that Amrita was in big trouble.
Over the past millennia, since the red-haired witch has become the only lady of his heart, he felt increasingly stronger if she was in danger. This time also, he tried to concentrate with his eyes closed, but he was only sure that Amrita is not in the court, but she was arrested somewhere afar, maybe in the south. If only he knew where to go after her, but first, he has to go to Paris to find out who kidnapped her and in what direction they headed.
He jumped to his feet, got dressed, and ordered one of his fastest horses to be made ready. Then, he swung into the saddle and galloped towards Paris.
Four hours later, he opened Catherine’s door without announcement. The princess was standing at the window and gazed into the distance. When the steps, pounding across the hall, sank into the thick carpet of the salon, she turned slowly and gazed at the earl uncomprehendingly.
“Where is Amrita?” The man asked urgently, and Catherine did not notice that he had not greeted her.
“They took her two days ago,” whispered the woman in a trembling voice.“ She spent the first night in the dungeon, and then they set out to Arles with her the following morning.”
“Who?”
“The royal guard. Princess Poitiers accused her of witchcraft.”
“How do you know this?” Morgan’s eyebrow flinched.
“Doctor Michel de Nostradame knows her from Arles, from some fifteen years earlier, and some say that Amrita has not aged a single day since then. But it is crazy, isn’t it?” Catherine swayed her head, upset.
“Nostradame…” Morgan was savoring the name, and then he slapped his forehead. “Of course! I knew he was familiar from somewhere! That little bastard…”
“Are you talking about the Doctor?” Catherine asked doubtingly.
“Never mind,” waved the earl. “So they took her to Arles?”
“Yes, but only to find witnesses to support the Doctor’s statement, according to which Amrita looked the same fifteen years ago. Then, they will carry her to Avignon where they are going to throw her onto a burning pile in front of the Palais des Papes,” sniffled the princess in a dying voice. “They want to create a precedent with her.”
“They are looking for witnesses? The cunning hog!” hissed Morgan. “This time he wants to play a sure game…”
“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”
“Catherine, you have to know something,” said the earl, and lead the princess to the armchair, because he thought it would be better if she sits down. “Amrita is really a witch, so they can find people in Arles, who will confirm the Doctor’s statement.”
“A witch? That is impossible…” Catherine felt dizzy, and she would have definitely collapsed, if Morgan was not so careful.
“Calm down! As there are good and bad people, some of the witches are helpful, the others are harmful. I think I don’t have to state which side Amrita is on.”
“But if she cannot grow old, then she is not mortal either, is she?” Catherine asked trustingly.
“Her soul is immortal and nothing can consume her body but fire…”
“Then…”
“Yes, she is going to die on the pile,” Morgan bowed his head.
“Of course, not forever, but who knows when she can reincarnate again.”
“Save her, please, and bring her back!”
“I’m afraid that is impossible. I mean, perhaps I can save he
r, but you can never see her again. If Amrita stays alive, she has to start a new life in a faraway land.”
“I don’t mind, just save her!” The princess sprang up and pushed Morgan towards the door, who also thought that it is time to leave.
With relay horses, without rest, he galloped to Arles where he arrived on the following day at five o’clock in the morning. Only the third innkeeper, roused from sleep, could provide information, and he said something which the earl did not like. According to the news, the red-haired witch from Paris was taken to Avignon the previous evening, to place her on a pile and burn her at six o’clock in the morning.
Morgan spurred towards the former papal residence. He knew that every minute would count.
A few minutes before six o’clock, he arrived at the square in front of the Palais des Papes, where a huge crowd had already gathered to see the witch pay for her dark practices. Morgan, looking over the hustling crowd, saw the pile standing in the middle of the square, which was still empty. From there, he could only continue his way on foot, so he threw himself into a whirl and, without selecting, he pushed aside the people who got into his way. He should have hacked his way through about thirty mortals when the mob started to scream mindlessly. The earl stopped and lifted up his head: he had to see the marauders dragging Amrita up on the pile, and then tying her hands and legs to the thick pillar.
He knew he was too late.
Of course, it would have been only an instant of work for him to get on the top of the pile, wring the neck of the guards with a single movement, and finally, by tearing away Amrita’s cords, take her in his arms and run away with her. He will tear out the heart of those who would stand in his way with one hand. But he was also aware that there are too many bystanders here, and he cannot kill everybody. Obviously, he cannot disclose his real self, and what he is able to do.
At that moment, they set the pile on fire with a torch.
The Rose of Provence Page 5