The Devil's Daughter by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 24

The people of the village were quickly alerted by the clip-clopping of hooves, as the carriage arrived. Stopping at the square, Bradley was first to step out, and extending a hand, assisted his wife as she held their daughter. On the way, they had changed into their best clothes, intending to make a grand entrance. And grand it was, as the people of Gura Haith came out to witness the spectacle of wealth and privilege. But no one welcomed them. Instead, the small family was seen as an oddity, a queer display of strange dress and customs. However, as they waved to the many curious onlookers, they were quickly approached by Aizic who had become gravely concerned about receiving unannounced visitors at a time when the village was in crisis.

“Who are you?” he asked. “We were not expecting visitors.”

Bradley took a moment to introduce himself, as well as his wife and child. But Aizic was adamant and gave them a firm warning.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

His breathing became quick, and his voice sounded panicked.

“But you cannot stay here!”

Bradley, in his usual arrogance, interrupted him. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked. “I wasn't aware an invitation was required.”

His attempt at humor went unnoticed, but his arrogance did not, and many in the crowd had already become offended by the behavior of their unexpected visitors.

Having stepped out of the carriage, Janet approached Aizic, as Ileana slowly made her way to the square. Extending a hand, her intention was to offer an introduction until Ileana interrupted.

“What is this?” she asked.

Her approach was stern but somewhat confused. They rarely had visitors, and the village was not safe for anyone, let alone a small American family. “Who are you?”

Bradley motioned Kaku down from the carriage, requesting that he unload their luggage.

“Oh,” he replied. "My name is Bradley, and this is my darling wife, Janet, and our angelic daughter, Emily. We...” Ileana's patience was nearly immediate, and she interrupted with a tone of shocked disbelief.

“You brought a child here?! Why would you bring an infant to this place?!”

Janet came to the belief that the elder was questioning her ability for motherhood and quickly spoke up in her defense. “My good woman,” she began. “I'll have you know that I am perfectly capable of being an excellent mother. And I don't believe I got your name.”

Ileana, still with an expression of deep concern, briefly introduced herself.

“I am Ileana, one of the elders of this village. Now, why did you come here?”

Having unloaded their luggage, Kaku quickly climbed back onto the carriage, snapped the reins against the horses and began his escape. He had already been paid, and refusing to spend another minute with the small family, chose a hasty exit, leaving the American tourists behind. In all honesty, Kaku didn't care if they lived or died, and once he returned home planned to spend a considerable amount of money on a several-day alcoholic binge.

Realizing their guide was abandoning them, Bradley gave a short chase, yelling for Kaku's return. Now, in the absence of a response, Bradley stood in the road feeling helpless and terrified, as the reality of everything leading up to that moment rose to the surface. They were days, possibly weeks from the nearest telegraph office, and it was unlikely they would be able to reach anyone back in Targu Mures to see them to civilization. But he couldn't let Janet see his fear, knowing that if they both panicked, it would be that much more difficult to return home. As he watched the carriage disappear around a corner, Bradley took a deep breath and attempting to find his courage, turned and walked back to Janet with all eyes focused on his fearful expression.

“Well,” he began. “I'm certain that you must have suitable living quarters in your lovely village.” Ileana was becoming more impatient by the moment, and with the Americans without a way back finally relented, against her better judgment.

“We will arrange your return,” she began. “For now, you will stay with us.”

She turned to Aizic and instructed him to find them quarters. As the village rarely received visitors, guest quarters were not needed. However, with Father James dead, their unannounced guests could stay in the church, temporarily occupying its living area.

A handful of men were picked out of the crowd to help carry the family's luggage, and within only a few minutes, found themselves walking into its congregational hall. In spite of the priests' absence, it had been kept clean, and in exquisite condition. Letting them in, Aizic motioned to a heavy wooden door at the back right corner and opening the door, Janet was overtaken by a startled shiver as its hinges let out a loud creek that echoed throughout the darkness behind it. Walking up a set of carved stone stairs, the sound of their shuffling feet took on a hollow, distant quality that Janet found other-worldly. Continuing on, Aizic opened the door to the church living quarters. As with the rest of the church, the priests' chamber was kept clean, ready for the unlikely arrival of any man of God who dared enter what had become a dangerous and unpredictable place.

Led by Aizic, Bradley and Janet stepped into the room and immediately noticed its spartan appearance, as well as the fact that there was no priest. Curious, Bradley turned to Aizic.

“Where is your priest?” he asked. Aizic answered after a bit of hesitation. “Our priest is dead.”

Bradley and Janet looked at each other with uncomfortable, somber expressions.

“Oh,” Bradley said. “I'm sorry to hear that.” Rather than continue to reminisce on an event the village had not yet recovered from, Aizic simply got to the point. “Eventually, another will be sent. But for now, it is expected that this room will be kept clean and that you will leave it as you see it.”

“Of course,” Bradley replied.

Normally given to expressions of ego, Bradley managed a truly sincere response.

With their luggage set carefully on the floor, the men who had been volunteered for the task left, and made their way out of the church leaving Aizic with the newcomers. But as he turned towards the door, Bradley stopped him with one last question, as Janet put their baby on the bed. “What did that woman mean when she said we couldn't stay here?”

As one of the village elders, Aizic knew the necessity of being diplomatic and sometimes that meant providing a degree of misdirection.

“This is not the best time for us to receive visitors,” he answered.

Continuing in his curiosity, Bradley inquired further. “Why is that?”

Aizic paused in his response, not wanting to instill fear in their guests.

“I'm sure you understand that these woods are quite dangerous,” he said.

“So we've heard,” Bradley replied.

As the men spoke, Janet was busy changing their baby's diaper. It had a long ride, and the movement of the carriage had made it impossible to perform such duties. However, she did keep an ear to the conversation. “Yes,” Aizic continued. “We don't know why, but it seems that wolves are coming down from the mountains a lot more than they used to. So, I strongly suggest that you stay indoors at night. If you are going to go out during the day, go where there are others and do not wander beyond the village.”

Aizic opened the door, but turning back, offered a bit of graciousness to the couple.

“If there is anything you need, my name is Aizic.” Prompted by Aizic's warning, Bradley sensed that something had been left out of the conversation, and wanted to ask a few more questions. But he had been cut off by the sound of the door, as Aizic left the room on his way out of the church.

Hearing the sound of the church doors closing, Bradley saw the opportunity for a private conversation. “Janet,” he began.

His voice was filled with tension as his fear, once again, crept to the surface.

“What are we doing here? This place is not for us. Look at these people. They have no idea what it means to be civilized, and they barely speak English.” With their baby falling asleep on the bed, Janet tried to reassure him.

“Bradley,” she began. “This is what people refer to as 'the old country'. Places like this are filled with legends and ghost stories. Someone sees a wolf and suddenly the village is full of monsters. We'll go back in few days, alright?” Stepping in, she laid her hands on the lapels of his jacket and looked into his eyes.

“Besides,” she continued. “When will we ever see a place like this again?”

Once again, Bradley relented, knowing how much of a romantic she was. But, he couldn't help feeling some small sense of dread. Perhaps, he was compensating for Janet's lack of caution. Nonetheless, something had clawed its way into his mind, but it was not just fear. He was well accustomed to that emotion. This was something he had never experienced, and it spoke to him like a prophecy, yet never revealing itself completely.

His eyes wandered away from Janet, as his tension continued to mount. They had been together long enough that she could sense his mood, and inquired about what he was feeling.

“Bradley,” she began. “What is it?” Breaking away from the inexplicable darkness that had gripped his mind, Bradley took a sudden breath and did his best to evade Janet's inquiry.

“Oh, nothing darling,” he replied. “I think I'm just a bit tired from the trip. Perhaps, it would be best to eat early and turn in, don't you think?”

She could hear the anxiety in his voice, as her instincts told her that he was affected by something more than simply being tired. But, knowing her husband as she did, Janet was well aware of his habit of downplaying his fear in order to appear stronger than he actually was. He tended to believe he was being protective, that as a man, it fell to him to be the strong one. However, aside from this, Bradley was a quick learner, and while the previous nights' dinner had been prepared he had carefully watched the entire process, memorizing every detail. It didn't take long for him to organize what he needed, and using the wood stove in the priests' quarters, prepared their dinner. As a special treat, he opened a small chest and retrieved a tin of cheese they had purchased in Paris. The meal, simple as it was, was now complete, and after finishing Janet nursed their daughter as both sat at an open window.

They stared out at the blanket of stars, tossed over the cold mountains and inky forest. The icy wind, blowing down from the Carpathian slopes, gently pushed another window open, startling the young couple as they sat in the shadows of the steady flame of an oil lamp. After an involuntary gasp they looked at each other, and giggled in amusement, having become victims of their imaginations. But the moment quickly passed, as Bradley pushed the window closed and latched it shut. It wasn't long after that when Janet began to nod off. Their trip had been long and tiring, and now, Morpheus slipped a soothing hand over her weary mind. Bradley, once again, considered their circumstances but his thoughts were broken by the sound of mild snoring. For as long as they had been married, Janet had always snored. However, being a gentleman, he was unable to bring himself to tell her, fearing she would react badly out of embarrassment. Getting up from his chair, he walked over to Janet, and rousing her to a slight state of wakefulness helped her to the bed. Being too tired to change into the proper nightwear, she laid down on the rough sheet and tumbled into the abyss of sleep, as soon as her cheek touched the pillow. Next, Bradley put out their baby's wooden cradle, having kept it tied to one of the chests. He made sure their daughter was adequately clothed and covered, and draping a blanket over her to keep the cold out. Several times during the night, he got up to check on her, making sure she was warm enough. He would try to be up as early as possible to seek help in speeding their return home.