ISBN: 978-606-13-1925-1
Copyright: Chrys Romeo 2014
Cover by Chrys Romeo
*
Zarek the reporter didn’t know what to think of the Polski King
Hotel when he arrived there, but he knew from the beginning that
something unexpected would happen in that place. He had developed
a sense for the unexplained, unexpected and uncanny things. And
there was definitely something like that, waiting to be revealed.
The building seemed silent and cozy, with walls painted on the
outside in soft tones and inside in soft washed yellow, as if time had
wiped away the sparkles and had left only the traces of other
centuries hanging on the corridors. From the outside, the hotel looked
welcoming with its bright sign and the green garden surrounding it,
almost hiding the building from the street.
Zarek was greeted by the receptionist, a smiling blonde who gave
him the key to his room without any questions. However, by the
elevator door that was sliding its silver shiny mirrors, someone else
appeared in front of him.
“I’m the hotel administrator”, the red haired girl said to him
firmly. “Are you a guest here?”
Her inspecting eyes watched him, evaluating quickly who he was.
Her glimmering glance seemed restless and cleverly cutting through
everything like a blade. She smiled, but beyond her smile there was a
steel determination and some sort of hidden knowledge, loads of filed
information that she seemed to carry around in her head, organizing
and sorting out whatever came her way, somewhere in her mind.
Zarek the reporter felt he had to answer something to her. She
was staring at him in a friendly yet inquiring manner.
“I’m a guest, yes,” he said. “I’m a reporter. I came to the hotel to
write a story about the woods near the hotel. I must find out what’s
going on around here and make a report about it.”
Her eyes did not blink. Instead, she asked while she kept fixing
him with the same steady inquiring glance, apparently smiling in a
friendly way:
“What is going on here that you have to write about it?”
He shrugged.
“Well, there are some stories about strange events in these
woods… tourists noticing unusual sightings of some creatures… or
ghosts… or something out of this world anyway. I don’t know. That’s
why I came: to find out what it is… to see for myself.”
She still didn’t blink. Her sharp smile had something of a warm
welcome, but at the same time, her determination to evaluate and
manage whatever came her way was intimidating. After a few
seconds of thinking about what he had said, she seemed to let go of
her questions.
“Good. Then you can investigate the woods for your report. We
hope you enjoy your time at our hotel. If you find out anything, you
could tell us about it too, we’d like to know. And if you need to hear
some stories about this place, come talk to me whenever you want. I
know many stories and legends; maybe you’ll find them useful for
your report. I’ll be in the hotel lobby in the evenings. Call me
Agnieska.”
And she went past him, somehow amused by his presence and
relieved that he didn’t know much about the hotel.
Zarek took his bag in the elevator, then up to the fourth floor and
along the corridor. The walls were slightly lit by soft bulbs. He could
see the painted figures along the silent hall. There were ancient kings
and soldiers, holding their swords, loading their rifles, standing in a
field, looking to the horizon, in frozen thoughtful stances. They
seemed to have been there for centuries, watching the distance
through the walls, witnessing the changes of the world and time
going by from their immobile poses. Their eyes seemed to have
something wise and yet implacable, some knowledge of what they had
seen, something deeper than the modern tourists could guess or
understand.
The thick carpet on the floor was engulfing the sound of his steps
along the corridor. He felt as if he was passing in front of a row of
ancient figures that were still alive, yet not to be disturbed. He felt
their eyes watching, half asleep, frozen in their painted landscapes,
scattered windows open to other centuries. When he got to his room,
he found a note on the table, written in shiny golden letters: Welcome
to the castle! Let me know when we can meet again.
He thought maybe Agnieska, the hotel administrator, had
written it as a welcome joke or as a metaphor. He left the note on the
table. In the room there was another medieval king, painted in soft
brown and yellow, watching silently, with his dignified crown and
tired eyes. Zarek went to the window which opened to the woods and
a little pond. The last sunset rays were dancing on the ripples of the
pond. Frogs were making evening choir sounds in the background.
The sky was getting grey and cloudy, as if rain or a storm was
approaching. The forest seemed restless and dark. Beyond the
whispering foliage of the tall trees there was a shadow of a castle
somewhere in the middle of the woods. Its towers, greenish and
brown, could be easily taken for tree tops. Their shadows stood among
the oaks and pines, camouflaged in foliage.
Zarek went to have a shower and since it was already getting
dark, he decided there wasn’t much to do on that evening, except
maybe talk to Agnieska about the stories she could tell him.
So he went down to the lobby.
The silver elevator slid its door silently and descended through
the glass cylinder.
Agnieska was sitting on a double armchair and writing
something in a hurry, with her burning dark red hair spread in wavy
locks around her face, hiding her piercing eyes. She sensed his
presence and looked up, smiling again with her steely friendliness.
However, Zarek felt he was beginning to get used to her intimidating
restless determination and could see something warm in the deep
hazel of her bright eyes.
“Sit down”, she invited him. “You came for the stories, right?”
“Yes indeed”, he answered.
She closed the file she had been filling.
“I saw a castle from the window”, he said.
She looked at him attentively, as if checking to see how convinced
he was about it.
“You did?”
“Yes. Isn’t there a castle in the woods?”
Agnieska didn’t answer immediately. She kept smiling.
“I also found your note on the table”, he continued.
‘What note?”
“The note saying welcome and when can we meet again”.
Agnieska was staring at him. Her smile had disappeared and she
was serious.
“I didn’t write any note for you”, she said.
“It was written in golden letters…”
“It’s not mine. I didn’t write it.”
She shook her head, very seriously and the locks of her wavy hair
scattered like burning leaves on her shoulders.
Zarek felt confused.
“Who wrote it then?”
Agnieska shrugged.
“I don’t know. But it’s not mine.”
They remained in silence for a while. Then she decided to pick up
the dialogue again, with the same lively glance that resembled a
squirrel’s.
“So, what stories would you like to hear?”
“Tell me about the castle.”
“Very well, I’ll tell you a story about the castle.”
She was concise and direct, getting to the point without wasting
much time on anything.
“The castle belongs – actually, belonged – to a Tzarina. This
Tzarina fell in love with a knight. However, the knight was not very
civilized, he liked to live in the woods and he wasn’t well seen at the
castle. Therefore, her family did not want to let her marry him. And
she couldn’t convince him to get a higher rank, to be accepted by her
royal relatives. Eventually, the knight went to war. The Tzarina
waited for him to return from the battles, but the knight didn’t return
for many years. Because she thought she would never see him again,
she left the castle when a caravan of a migrant village passed by the
woods. She got married to a blacksmith from the caravan and she
didn’t come back to the castle. She abandoned her royal rights and
decided to just look after her family and the children she had with the
villager. Her relatives looked for her, but they didn’t recognize her,
because she was hiding in the village, in peasants’ clothes. After
many years, the knight returned to the woods, but the Tzarina was
married and gone with the blacksmith. Now a married woman, she
was lost somewhere in the world. The knight was very sad and
missing her very much, so he never left the woods again. Some people
say he kept roaming around the castle at night, waiting for the
Tzarina. Some people say the Tzarina came back one day but didn’t
find him there anymore because he was gone roaming through the
world, trying to find her. Some say that she gave up everything and
went to a monastery to live a religious life. Others say the knight
found her and they remained together forever by the pond,
apparently they might be seen wandering in the castle on nights with
a new moon, or so they say. The ending of the story has different
versions. It’s not concluded, not elucidated.”
Zarek was taking notes in his agenda. Agnieska was almost
scientific about it. He looked at her curiously.
“What was the name of the Tzarina and the knight? I must write
in my report.”
“The Tzarina was named Katrin and the knight - Ziven”.
“So they never met again?”
Agnieska wasn’t very sure of it.
“I don’t know exactly. Some versions of the story mention it as a
possibility… As I told you, nobody knows for sure which version is
true.”
She watched him, smiling somehow satisfied that he was
enchanted by her story. She changed the subject:
“Would you like to go for a swim? You can, if you want. You know
there’s a swimming pool in the basement of the hotel.”
Zarek finished writing and got up.
“That sounds interesting. I might go and check it out. Thanks.
See you tomorrow.”
“See you!”
As he was passing by the halls, he started deciphering the names
of the figures on the walls. He tried to find the portrait of Ziven the
knight or maybe Katrin the Tzarina, but he couldn’t. The long row of
soldiers and kings did not include the lovers from the story. It would
have been nice to see them here, he thought as he went to his room.
The note was still on the table, with golden letters, shining in the
night.
*
Zarek decided to go for a walk, even if it was already dark outside.
He was eager to see the surroundings and the whispering woods.
When he went to the door, the blonde receptionist seemed to be
worried and tried to warn him against going out.
“Are you leaving the hotel tonight?” she asked politely, but with
fear in her voice.
“Yes, I thought I’d go for a walk.”
“May I recommend you the tourist ride tomorrow? There’s a coach
and a tourist guide and it will be much better than now.”
“Thank you, I’ll think about it.”
And he wanted to step through the sliding doors.
“Could you wait a minute?” she asked him, becoming alarmed.
He stopped in the doorway, more curious than intrigued by her
reaction.
“What’s wrong?”
“I would advise you not to try to go too far into the woods at
night.”
“Is it dangerous? Are there animals?”
“Yes there are animals”, she said, but he suspected it wasn’t the
whole true answer.
She looked as if she was afraid of something worse than just
animals. Something she could not tell him about.
“Can you wait a minute until I make a phone call?”
He shrugged and waited. She dialed the numbers and spoke so
fast that he couldn’t understand anything she was saying. It was like
an ancient language he didn’t have a dictionary for. Then, in just a
few seconds, the squirrel-eyed Agnieska appeared in the hall, smiling
her steely friendly glance at him.
“So, you’re going out into the woods?”
“Yes… what seems to be the problem?”
“No problem. I thought you were going to the swimming pool.”
“I changed my mind. I’m going to the swimming pool later. I
thought I’d take a look around the hotel first.”
“You should be careful. It’s not recommended for tourists to go
out into the woods this late in the night. We are worried for your
safety.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Is there anything I should be aware of
out there?”
Agnieska held her file tightly to her chest and kept silent for a
few seconds. Then, her fast clever mind got another answer in a flash:
”The only dangerous thing is if you go too deep into the woods”,
she concluded.
“Okay, I won’t go too deep. Don’t worry.”
He turned around to leave. Agnieska was still standing there, as
if she wanted to stop him, but she couldn’t. And somehow it was
bothering her that he went beyond the boundaries she had decided for
the guests. But she couldn’t do anything about it, so she just watched
him go, while she was holding her file tightly, like an insurance.
Zarek stepped out into the night. The cool air smelled of moving
foliage and wild water, probably from the pond. He started walking
along the path that the moon would show from time to time, throwing
rays from beyond the grey thick clouds. There was a restless
atmosphere, leaves whispering, wind ruffling the trees and changing
the temperature, birds secretly whistling in the dark, the water
splashing on the shores, somewhere nearby. Zarek felt a sudden rush
of doubt as he went deeper into the shadows of the forest. The
moonlight wasn’t enough to show the way and the path was gradually
covered by tall grass and weeds. He felt he was slowly getting lost.
However, he looked back from time to time, to see the glimmering
sign from the name of the hotel. Suddenly, the moon went completely
behind the clouds. Darkness enveloped the forest and the shadows of
the trees became barely visible. There was a strange silence and the
name of the hotel had disappeared somewhere in the mist. He looked
around. He felt lost. He tried not to panic. He heard a sound of horses
galloping and he tried to distinguish in the night what was happening.
Something was moving towards him. Something was moving fast. He
hid behind a tree that he touched with his hand, just to make sure of
it. In the next second, a rider went past him. It was a knight riding a
very tall horse, holding a long spear in his fist and a helmet on his
head. He looked threatening and magnificently dignified. He was
covered in metal armor and the pieces of his equipment were rattling
rhythmically in the night. Zarek held his breath.
“Run!” the knight shouted at him in a coarse voice, as he passed
him by like a ghost, disappearing in the night.
Next, something else was coming very close. Drumming hooves
on the ground were approaching fast, so the woods seemed shaken by
an earthquake. Zarek started running back in the direction from
where he felt he had come. Something was after him, approaching.
The sound was deafening. He hid behind a tree in the last moment
and saw many aurochs, ancient European bisons rushing by,
galloping and stomping on everything that stood in their way, in a
whirl of dust, fur, instinctive power and scattered weeds.
Zarek waited until the herd disappeared into inexistent distance.
Because of the dark, he could not see where it had come from and
where it went. He was glad when he could see the hotel lights again.
He entered the hotel with his clothes in disarray, aware of the
fact that he had been running and catching his breath, looking
completely different than the way he had left. He tried to seem calm.
The blonde receptionist with a ponytail looked happy to see him
safe. She did not appear in any way surprised by his troubled
appearance. She smiled.
“Welcome back. You can go to the swimming pool now. It closes in
an hour.”
The reporter felt somehow embarrassed, somehow relieved that
he was safe inside the hotel. He wondered about the metal knight he
had seen. Was it Ziven? Was it a ghost? A tourist show? An illusion?
He could not tell for sure. He wanted to believe it was the legend, but
he didn’t have any proof.
*
The swimming pool was almost deserted when Zarek went there.
The room was large and silent. Splashing clear blue water reflected
the lights on the ceiling. On the side of the walls there were ancient
columns, resembling an ancient roman temple. On the front and back
walls the paintings showed green hills and ancient buildings, roman
gods and light bulbs that made the atmosphere mystical. The
swimming pool was lit from the floor and painted in light blue, so the
chlorine water seemed like a paradise basin. The sauna and Jacuzzi
nearby made it look like a relaxing spot, but there was still something
magical about the swimming pool area that Zarek felt from the
beginning. He dived into the water. It wasn’t very cold, not too hot
either. At that time of night people had already disappeared. He was
the last one swimming. The cleaning girl came sweeping the floor just
to remind him that there wasn’t much time left. But he enjoyed the
ancient landscape painted on the walls, and the mysterious light
bulbs under the broken columns.
As he was surfacing, he saw the cleaning girl had left. Instead, he
heard a splashing sound and he saw a long figure swimming in the
water. It was a girl in a red bathing suit. She looked like a mermaid,
flowing with the water and her long brownish hair glimmering in the
pale light of the room. He wondered if she was one of the guests. He
paused at the edge of the pool, breathing and hanging on to the metal
bar by the side of the wall, watching her. She surfaced from under the
water and her enticing light blue eyes flashed in his direction for a
second. He felt a shiver go along his spine. Her eyes had the same
color as the swimming pool. Her eyes had the same color as the
intense summer sky on an ethereal day when everything would
evaporate. Her eyes had the same color as the deepest infinite ocean
at the end of the world and beyond. Her eyes had the same color as
the immense warmth above a wheat field on a hot drowsy afternoon…
He was mesmerized. Her wet hair spreading in the water made her
look like a mermaid. She stared at him and smiled. Her eyes were the
kindest blue possible under the bluest sky, in the most magical
swimming pool on earth. And then she got out and left the room. And
he remained by the broken columns and the light bulbs, with water
splashing around, the same blue that reminded him of a mermaid,
water suddenly getting colder.
When he got out of the pool, he felt as if he was coming from
somewhere very far away.
*
“Come to our banquet tonight”, Agnieska said.
She was still holding her file in her arms.
“What banquet?” he asked, wiping his head with a towel.
He had just come from the showers of the swimming pool and his
mind was filled with the blue of the girl’s eyes, while his hair was wet
from the chlorine water.
“There’s a banquet at midnight. There will be dancing and
singing.”
“Okay, I’ll come.”
“Good”, Agnieska said.
And then she left.
Zarek went again through the painted corridor, with the kanonier
and soldier and kings within their landscapes, staring at him silently
while he walked.
He got dressed in a suit for the banquet.
There was already animation in the hall and voices rising up to
the other floors from the lobby, when he descended to the reception
desk. Agnieska was waving to the guests to come into a larger room,
where he immediately noticed a stage and many chairs surrounding
an oval table.
Zarek sat next to a moustache grey haired local citizen.
“Have some of our najlepse vodka?” the man said to him. “This is
Zubrowka. Bison Grass. The best.”
Zarek took the small glass.
“Okay’, he said and he sipped it at once.
He felt too tired to think about it anymore. The vodka went
immediately to his head, making the room sway a little and troubling
questions became lighter. He relaxed. The man poured some more. It
had a certain plant aroma reminding of no other strong drink he had
ever tasted.
“This is the authentic Bison Grass Drink”, the man said. “By the
way, I’m Bazyl. Ze one and only.”
The man’s accent was authentically rough, as if from another
time when people would speak in harsh consonants, but his
conversation skill made up for it.
“Nice to meet you. Bazyl. What’s going on tonight?” Zarek asked.
“There’s going to be a show. Listen. It’s a one-night one-lifetime
opportunity to see ze best of this area. I mean ze castle and ze woods
that belong to Mistre