The Devil's Daughter by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 37

Once again, the elders sat with the hunters, as they considered what should be done.

“Supposedly,” Nelu began. “This thing went right through a wall, like a ghost.”

“Yes,” another of the hunters said. “I heard the same thing.”

Seated at the table, Ileana gave some thought to what she knew should be impossible – that no living thing can pass through any solid surface. But given everything that had happened thus far, she was forced to consider the irrational. “Alright,” she began. “Let's say that it went through the wall, grabbed the baby, and ran back through. How do we kill something that can do that?”

Her question was met with silence, but after a few moments, Nelu suggested that the village be abandoned. “No!” Aizic shouted. “We have lived here for hundreds of years! There must be another way!”

“Aizic,” Ileana interrupted. “I understand your desire to stay, but we cannot fight this thing, and I will not endanger these people's lives for sentimentality. I'm afraid we must consider leaving unless someone has a better idea.” After a few moments, one of the hunters broke the silence with a suggestion.

“What if the little girl was taken to another village? Everyone knows she is the cause of this.” Nelu's anger was immediate, as he stood and challenged the man.

“Excuse me!” he bellowed. “That little girl is my daughter, and she will not be leaving!”

The man stood with an accusing finger pointed in Nelu's face.

“If she had not arrived, none of this would have happened!” Facing the man, Nelu stood his ground and pointed out what he knew to be false.

“No!” he replied. “She did not arrive. We brought her here and if I remember, you were the one carrying her! You took as much pity on her as the rest of us!”

Quickly losing her patience, Ileana beat the table with a frail fist, bringing a swift end to the confrontation. “We are not here to bicker! We need answers, now!” The two men sat down, but the tension between them was far from broken and after a pause, another of the men added to what had already been said.

“The village has to be told and given, at least, the chance to leave. To decide for themselves.” With Aizic still fuming, Sabin took the opportunity to speak.

“I understand your feelings Aizic, but we cannot let ourselves die out of pride. Before we created this village, we had all come from other places, places we called home and yes, we have been here a very long time. But now, we may have to find another home. Our ancestors gave up everything to come here, so why is it so difficult to think that we may have to do the same?” Aizic fell silent, with an expression that made him appear to be grieving. Now, everyone knew what had to be done. They must sacrifice the village to save its people, walking away from what had been home, for several centuries.

The group reached a silent agreement, but after a moment, Ileana spoke up with something that no one ever thought would happen.

“So, that's it. We're leaving. We'll go to some of the outlying villages. Maybe we can get as far as Targu Mures, buy some farmland and start over.” Everyone resolved themselves to the task they now faced, and in spite of the fortitude the men held in common, nearly all felt their eyes well up.

“It's getting late,” Ileana continued. “Start organizing people in the morning. Anyone who does not want to leave doesn't have to. No one will be made to go.” She stood slowly and forced her aging frame around the table, while Aizic, having a great deal of respect for her, stood and gently took her arm, only to be waived off. Despite her age, Ileana insisted that she remain strong and independent, accepting as little help from others as possible.

As she slowly made her way to the church doors, Ileana raised a hand and in a tired voice, requested that the men retire for the night.

“There's a great deal to do.”

Within the next few minutes, the church had become dark, empty and cold. It had seen its last congregation only a few weeks ago and now, it would stand in the midst of abandonment, surrounded by lifelessness, as a monument to hope and persistence. But the decision to leave was relatively easy, compared to what it would take to convince the people of Gura Haith into leaving the only home they had ever known, and people could not be allowed to simply flee in fear. Hence, the most difficult part of what was to come would be in maintaining order.