Eliska

by von Mechtingen

  I nodded, for indeed this was the victim in question. I felt distraught on her account. Without a trace of shame, Milan brought out his pounding shaft before me and proceeded to anoint it with the copious secretions flowing from the slit.

  “I will not deny my interest in the body, my lord,” he remarked, smoothing the belly and running his finger round the whorl of the crucified girl’s navel. “I think you are aware of my predilection for breasts like this. In a manner of speaking, I rather envy this dumb servant of ours sometimes. I would relish an hour or two down here with this slut. But Eliska is obstinate about this cellar, insisting it remain Sebastian’s own. Naturally the man has to have his own enjoyments, as we have ours.”

  He then invited me to take stock of the chamber, eagerly describing the racks of whips, scourges and riding crops, the stout wooden leather-bound penises, leather masks and strange nail-studded cache-sexes. He spent a long moment admiring the whipping pillars, the stone benches with their bondage rings and the multitude of chains hanging from the beams. I did not, I assure you, Nephew, mention that I had seen the impaling monster on the block in action. He would have been consumed with envy.

  I glanced surreptitiously at his erection. “You are obviously in great need of relief, my lord,” I muttered, expressing genuine concern. “Why do you not make use of this lovely crucified body before we mount? The young lady, I am sure, would be honoured beyond words.”

  Milan smiled. “No, to use her now would never do. We must rejoin the group before the Margravine notices my absence.”

  As we left the chamber, ensuring the door was ajar as before, Milan said: “It would be appropriate, sir, if you were not to mention this visit.” His plea was similar to that of a lad who envisages trouble.

  I assured him of my ability to keep a secret and mused again at the power this terrible woman wielded even over her lovers. As we climbed the steps, leaving the crucified one to suffer her forthcoming buttock whipping and subsequent tuition, Milan mentioned the word ‘cistici’, which they employ to mean ‘cleansing’.

  “If our province is to be cleansed, sir, then every living lesbian must be rooted out and put to the whip and, if recalcitrant, submit themselves to a certain degree of sex-torture and serve as sex slaves until this curse is eliminated. Lesbians deny us access to their bodies and therefore must be whipped to be made available for normal use.”

  I risked a comment. “I understand that the gracious Gräfin herself is not averse of enjoying such creatures.”

  Milan stared at me in astonishment. “Perhaps, but then the Margravine of Zatoransky is above our local laws and customs!”

  With that, we donned the detestable cowls and stole quietly into the dungeon. Both Ladislav and Premsyl were making full use of the serving-girls kneeling before them, and Maryska had been released - no doubt by Sebastian, recalled momentarily to the dungeon. She was kneeling submissively before her resentful owner.

  Thrusting his serving-maid aside, Ladislav came forward with parchments in his hand.

  Pray for your weary uncle, Nephew.

  Huldrych.

  Letter The Twenty-Fifth

  The Margravine’s voice made me turn cold.

  “Read the sentence!”

  As a month ago, it was Ladislav who unrolled the parchment spelling out Maryska’s doom. It began with the usual pompous preamble which irked me and which, I noted, did not make any reference to the Emperor - not that His Majesty would have wished to be included in such a scurrilous paper. Everyone gazed at the wretched Maryska while I, for my part, strove to understand the clauses. In case your legal mind is interested, Nephew, they went something like this:

  Exordium:

  In the name of the gracious and bountiful Eliska Helena, Margravine of Zatoransky and hereditary territories, we declare this illicit whore guilty of attempted escape from due justice and therefore condemn her body to further cleansing.

  Expositio:

  Item the first: At the stroke of midnight on this same day by the castle chapel bell, the whore shall,ex curia and at the hand of the Peitschmeister, be put to the scourge naked in the preparation cell to ready the buttock flesh;

  Item the second: The whore shall be taken to the branding chamber, chained, and marked with the heated irons on both buttocks;

  Item the third: Thereafter, the whore shall be conducted by the bailiffs into the town and there be chained beneath the sign of the phallus before our brothel which she profaned in perpetrating her initial crime, and there be exposed naked before the populace for vilification;

  Item the fourth: Thereafter, the whore shall be conducted to the dungeon, suspended, and flagellated by the hand of her Mistress and proprietor, the gracious Margravine.

  Hardly able to believe my ears, I looked over at Eliska to gauge her attitude. Her anger dissipated, she was absently admiring her sapphire rings and looking calmly down at Maryska motionless on her knees before her. Ladislav continued in a colourless voice:

  Item the fifth: Thereafter, the whore shall be conducted back to the brothel where she shall thenceforward be offered for prostitution, chained by the neck;

  Item the sixth: The Chief Bailiff shall issue orders to the Brothel Master to ensure the closest supervision of the whore at all times, permitting absence from the pallet or palliasse of work solely at feeding and ablution times;

  Item the seventh: The Chief Bailiff or his assistant shall ensure that the whore is put to the whip naked in the brothel every Sunday, on Feast days and other rest days. The number of strokes is left to the discretion of the Bailiffs, on the basis of conduct and fornication reports from the Brothel Master or Mistress.

  By order of the Margravine. May God cleanse her realm -Excudit.

  There followed a series of other flourishes - among which, stipulations regarding the monk’s prior sanctifying of the instruments and their purification after use, & cetera, after which Ladislav rolled up the parchments with their weighty seal.

  Preening themselves like cockerels at the mention of their roles, the two bailiffs seized Maryska brutally and led her out. In a hubbub of conversation, the group went up for supper.

  You must bear with me, for I have little time, as you can imagine, for writing or sketching.

  Huldrych

  Letter The Twenty-Sixth

  The supper I mentioned in my last letter was a grand affair. We were treated to thick pea soup, roasted rabbit, a superb goose with dumplings and cabbage, then, best of all the desserts here, we had a sort of bread pudding with apples (which they store carefully in the attics on racks to preserve them from all the vermin).

  During a walk in the night air in the garden, I was again accosted by an excited and nervous Brother Ignatius. Evidently trouble was afoot in the valley and Radka, he confided in a whisper, was at that moment with the Eliska’s elusive lansquenet somewhere in the woods to the east of the castle.

  Corruption of the bailiffs, he claimed, was making progress, but slow and expensive progress. For some reason, neither Radka nor Ignatius is suspected over the Maryska incident - possibly because the old nurse and he, the priest, are privy to too many secrets, in and out of confessional.

  Following Eliska’s loss of face before her lovers (who are too besotted with her to notice), her servants (too terrified to mutter a word except behind her back), and before me her guest (who, being on the eve of departure, hardly counts), it is on Maryska that she will now vent her rage.

  She seemed oblivious to happenings outside the narrow circle of the castle and, as she is feared, no one brings rumours to her ears.

  Broadly the news is this: the lansquenet, hiding out in an abandoned barn, is gathering together an ever-growing number of starving peasants, wandering soldiers and deserters, impoverished artisans and journeymen, beggars and even widows, whores and waifs. He firmly meant to wrench Maryska from the
talons of the Gräfin. And avenge her.

  The failure of the escape has complicated matters. Little could be done tonight, Ignatius admitted, which implied that Maryska could not be saved from the irons. Possibly the next day? But seizure before the populous brothel-inn was considered hazardous.

  Brother Ignatius therefore, on behalf of all concerned, including the soldier himself, formally requested me now to intervene with Eliska. Above all to prevent Maryska’s condemnation to the brothel from which there would be no chance of escape at all. If this failed, he was prepared to attack the castle itself.

  I tried hard to dissuade Ignatius, and through him our lansquenet, from such a foolhardy scheme, which might well put Maryska in far more danger, lodged down there with the pitiless Sebastian, only too close to the moat. Moreover, I warned him that I myself as an Imperial envoy was under the protection of both Nuremberg and the Gr”fin and if anything should befall me... I immediately reproached myself for my self-serving vanity, as Brother Ignatius left me to find Radka.

  Thoroughly disturbed at the way matters seemed to be developing, I determined to speak to the Margravine at some appropriate moment the next day. Meanwhile, I sealed my despatches and wondered whether I had now covered every aspect of the region. The work has been hard but complete and really the sole harassment I have suffered are these sessions I am made to attend below. Otherwise, people have left me alone and so I cannot complain. I am far more preoccupied about Maryska and now about her lansquenet and the disturbances in the valleys below.

  Just before midnight, as I was reading by the light of the modest candle they give me, Jakub knocked and requested me to attend the ‘ceremony’ below. I followed him more unwillingly than ever before.

  I find sketches, however inadequate, quicker than writing - and less painful - but I shall do my best one way or the other.

  Huldrych

  Letter The Twenty-Seventh

  The chamber I was led to was new to me; this labyrinthine castle is an ants’ nest.

  The smoke from Sebastian’s brazier seemed to be perfumed with some sort of leaf or herb. The odour, which I had anticipated would be acrid, was far from unpleasant as it spiralled and found its way out of the only aperture high in the wall. The chamber was lit by several candles in sconces and holders and these made the many chains, hanging from the beams, glint in an ominous readiness as Maryska was led in, superbly naked.

  Her lavishly oiled curves glistened as she stumbled forward; the buttocks had been specially smeared with a honey-coloured grease - no doubt a sure sign of dear old Radka’s administration and which, to me, indicated that she was safely back in the castle after her dangerous nocturnal encounters in the woods.

  Blind behind her purple velvet masking, Maryska passed close to the flickering brazier and sensed the threatening heat. For once she hesitated and tugged on her chains held firmly in Sebastian’s grasp and spreading out to the neck, nipples and sex. Sebastian jerked on the bonds to bring the beautiful body to the centre of the chamber before a central pillar. She stood, magnificently naked, erect and submissive; I marvelled at this attitude, concluding that whatever thoughts of resistance may momentarily enter her paralysed mind, the body will not respond to them. Somehow, as Premsyl had so eloquently expounded, that mystifying combination of resignation and erotic willingness conspired to make her offer herself.

  Sebastian, also oiled, exhibited his erection by smoothing its length with several slow caresses, excited at the prospect of what he was about to be called upon to do. He secured the body in what the voluble Radka later told me is the classical posture for all branding sessions, no matter which part of the body is to be marked: legs attached apart to floor rings, arms taut above the head, clitoris and neck chains hooked to the pillar and the labia drawn down and backwards to be chained tight to a further floor ring.

  We were treated to a long moment of her gleaming flesh, fully prepared, the glow of the coals stippling the skin with bars of crimson amid the pungent, aromatic, perfumed smoke. After stirring the irons in the brazier, Sebastian also enjoyed a few minutes of pleasure, sliding his hands down the superb, sleek loins before him, seeking out the most sensitive points until the girl was quivering, jerking, imploring with soft groans some relief, urging the man to take her there and then.

  Although fully aware what was now about to be done to her, Maryska showed how gifted - or cursed - she is with this sexual lust of hers and which draws men to her.

  The man slowly and deliberately extracted one of the irons from the incandescent coals, tapped it against the wall and then thrust the white-hot H down into the profusion of the right buttock-bulge.

  Maryska screamed once - a hoarse shriek from the depth of her lungs. The body rose on tiptoe and hung, shuddering. A moment later, the second iron seared the left buttock. A cry like a white arrow through the darkness of the cellar pierced the walls as Maryska reared again and slumped. Each cheek was inscribed for all time with H for Hure - a strange custom, I found myself thinking (as if to distance myself from the scene), to use the German word for whore instead of the local one - but I am told, Nephew, that the practice comes, alas, from us.

  In silence the group left the chamber, consigning the girl to Sebastian’s further care. I watched him raking out his brazier and then unchaining the stunned woman. Eliska and her companions, suitably satisfied and excited, retired together, after bidding me a good night. For my part, I needed fresh air to clear my mind and so walked the terrace garden in the moonlight and under the impartial stars. I had hardly walked the battlements twice before Radka stole up to me. She was agitated.

  “My noble and charitable lord -” she curtsied briefly, drawing her homespun cloak around her, while I wondered what was to follow this greeting “- I beg of you to follow me down to the girl’s cell where I must go to treat her. We have to speak to her urgently, before it is too late. It is important and only you can convince her.” Then she indicated a grating set low down in a hollow against the castle wall. “Come, my lord, when you see a light in that grid. Do not fail us.”

  Testy, tired and uncertain of what was afoot, I was brusque. “Cannot all this wait, woman? It’s late. The evening has been trying. I have work to do. Can it not wait?”

  “It cannot, sir, and beware!” She was gone like a spectre from a graveyard.

  I sensed that Maryska’s fate was at stake again and, despite my hesitations, I knew I would go down. While awaiting the signal, I wandered back to the great hall out of the chill of the night. Suddenly I saw Sebastian carrying Maryska’s body over his arms, heading in the direction of the stairway to the cells. Where he had come from I could not tell - this place is full of mysteries, Nephew. Had she been taken up and then down again from Eliska’s bedchamber? If so, why? The dumb man bore the girl almost with tenderness, two creatures condemned to the underworld. Why did no one ever revolt here?

  Again in the garden, it was a long time before the signal came. I felt warmed by Radka’s courage and defiance in this world where force prevails over law. Although it was Maryska who was suffering like an expiatory victim for the foiled escape, it was Radka who remained the valid instrument in guiding the obscure - but probably militant - forces outside the castle.

  In the cell Radka was caring for Maryska, who lay prostrate on her slab. The old nurse was smearing ointments gently into the scorched buttocks, talking to the girl in soft tones.

  “She will heal quickly. The marks are not too deep.” She stroked the girl’s hair. “Tell this good lord you decision, girl.” Radka stripped off the blindfold and Maryska looked up at me, as Radka added: “Even if you often enjoy the whip and sex here, say what you want.”

  “I have changed my mind, my noble lord.” Radka helped me to understand her words. “I do not want to be their slave. Never again. They’ve made me into an animal. But even an animal fights. They’ve stolen my mind, my body. All I wait for is
the whip and the men, one after another. And the chains. I’m an animal tethered to its stake, to be fucked and flogged.” The girl paused, exhausted, as if she had lost her force to talk. Radka urged her on. “But tell the noble lord what you have decided, even if you enjoy the whip.”

  “I want to escape. I want to find my lover again. I don’t want to be condemned to the brothel. I want my soldier man,” she shouted. “Where is he? Where’s my man?”

  “Now, now, child. All in good time.” Radka clapped a hand over the mouth. “As long as you will fight we will help. Your man is close to the castle, near the gates. Waiting for you. So first this good lord will intercede for you with the Margravine. This is your wish, isn’t it, girl? You want to escape, yes?”

  The girl nodded. Although she did not seem to recognise me, her self-confidence had returned and I supposed she could be relied upon to remain resolute and not surrender like the last time. Unless they flogged her again into submission and confiscated anew her courage by demanding more nudity, more connivance, fiercer orgasms from her.

  “Very well,” I said, “I shall do what I can, to the best of my ability, but I guarantee nothing. I cannot extricate you from the humiliation you must suffer in the town nor from the final whipping, but I shall try to see that there shall be no brothel.”