The Roaming Zubr by Chrys Romeo - HTML preview

“How’s your report going?” she asked casually, passing by.

“Very well”, he replied sure of himself. “I found so much

interesting information today.”

“Very good!”

And she went on, heading towards the elevator.

Zarek wondered if Agnieska had been waiting for him to get back

from his walk in the woods, just to check up on him or make sure he

did not get lost. He wondered if she knew more about Katrin than he

did. He doubted it. Agnieska probably had no idea how special and

different Katrin was… how out of the world she seemed… how

heavenly her music sounded. He thought she only knew data about

the castle, the woods and the hotel. But she didn’t reveal half of what

she knew to visitors.

At that moment, he didn’t care anymore what others would hide

in their agenda. His main feeling was happiness and he wasn’t about

to be concerned with anything else. He loved Katrin and that was the

truth he was very sure of... if anything, it was the only truth that

mattered, like the blue limitless sky of her eyes…

He got in the shower with her smile and her music still in his

mind. The hot water running down his shoulders reminded him of the

warmth of the colorful summer field, of the heavenly songs and her

guitar with golden letters… and more than anything, of her. And of

the love she stirred in his soul.

He jumped in the bed and turned to sleep, without saying

anything to the painted king who was watching him from the wall.

He almost didn’t notice the face staring with fixed resentment. He

closed his eyes. He wanted Katrin to be there. He wanted her to just

be there, next to him, at that very moment… He wished he could just

hold her and he fell asleep with that unquenched longing, imagining

she was close by his side, the thought of her like a soothing presence

accompanying his dreams.

He went into deep oblivious sleep, but when he opened his eyes,

after a few hours, he was in the meadow. He was in the sunlight,

riding his horse and looking for her. He looked around. The heat of

summer was burning through his helmet and he could no longer

stand it, yet he was determined to find her. He lifted himself in the

saddle, glancing from above around the entire field. And he saw her:

she was waiting for him, waving a long scarf, like a white leaf in the

air. He prompted the horse to gallop towards her, through the tall

grass and the wild flowers, and when he got closer, he jumped down

and ran.

Katrin had taken off her veil and her Tzarina robe with golden

garments was shining just like the waves of her brownish hair. He

stood there in front of her, almost not believing he could see her again

after so many battles and so much time. Only half a year had passed

since he had left to war, but the months had seemed like years. He

took off his armor and threw his helmet to the ground. He was

breathing hard from the heat and the long ride. He wanted to be

himself in front of her, no armor and no metal shields to separate

them. He let the horse loose and took a step forward. She was smiling,

her blue eyes like the sky, filled with happiness and light, with

kindness and love…

“I missed you!” he told her, trembling inside at the thought of her

being so close, just longing to take her in his arms.

“How did you arrive? Is the war over?” she asked, as if she

actually had many other questions, but she didn’t want to bother him

by inquiring too much.

“No, the war’s not over yet, but I got away for a while. We

finished a battle to the East and there was a truce for a week or so. I

left the camp and came to see you immediately.”

“Do your soldiers know you’re gone?...’

“Yes, they know. I told them I’m going to see someone. I have to

be back in a day or two.”

He paused to stare at her.

“I don’t have much time” he added. “The battle might start any

second.”

And then he continued, changing the subject to something that

had been on his mind for many days and nights of falling asleep with

a wish of having her close:

“I can’t take it anymore, Katrin. I want to be with you. I know I’m

a knight and you’re the Tzarina, but to me, you are the woman I love

and I want to be yours.”

She looked at him thinking deeply. As usual, she understood

what he meant. She could sense his emotion and the overwhelming

desire to step closer that made his voice tremble. He was fighting

with himself, with the need to reach out to her. She asked him calmly:

“Don’t you want to wait until we have approval from the castle?”

He shook his head.

“No, I don’t want to wait.”

She smiled at the speed with which he had answered, no doubt

remaining about it.

“But we’re not married yet…” she said tentatively, not really

trying to convince him, but expressing her vision of it. “It would have

been right to have approval from the castle… and get married first.”

“They’ll never give us approval. They don’t want me there.

Besides, I’m going back to the war. I might die in battle. I don’t want

to die without living this moment of being with you.”

He sighed and looked to the horizon. She was waiting for him to

say something more.

“Look, Katrin... As far as I’m concerned, I’m already yours and

you are mine because this love we have is stronger than time and

stronger than distance, stronger than the world that might be against

it. But you don’t need to do anything your heart doesn’t wish for. If

it’s so important to you, if that’s what it takes for you to say yes to me,

I’ll marry you any moment if you want to have it as a certainty. I’ll

marry you under the sky, under the stars and under the sun. I’ll

swear to be yours as long as the grass grows and the trees will know

it for hundreds of years. I’ll marry you with my soul and this field will

forever be my witness.”

She was still silent. She was watching him attentively, but

something from his speech had moved her deeply. He took off his

sword and raised it in the air.

“I swear on this.”

And then he threw it to the ground. He was unarmed and

unshielded in front of her, his long cotton shirt like a flag, baring his

shoulders in sunlight. He kneeled in the grass.

“I love you, Katrin. Be mine under this eternal sky…”

Her blue eyes filled with light and she smiled, with the same

sweet acceptance and love that was sinking his heart into endless

emotion. He was waiting, his arms wide open. She took a step

towards him and kneeled in the grass too. She took off her royal cape

slowly and gracefully, and untied the robe, letting it fall among

flowers. She only had a sleeveless white summer dress and her arms

that had not been exposed to the sun seemed to glow softly in

daylight. When he took her in his arms and his hands touched her

skin he felt as if he was holding something sacred and fragile, a

precious life he would never hurt in any way… he only wanted to

cover her in love and kisses. As she leaned her head back, closing her

eyes to the sun, her blissful smile was the only approval he had ever

needed, responding to the kisses he was insatiably laying on her skin,

down her neck, like little words of love and fever. She had abandoned

herself to his caresses. He ran his fingers through her hair. She

seemed to let him do anything he desired. And he wanted so much to

love her, to make her happy, while she stayed abandoned in his

arms… he felt so ecstatic doing it that he couldn’t get enough of

kissing her face, her ears and her bare shoulders, but she didn’t even

attempt to interrupt his caress and she didn’t seem to intend to make

him slow down.

He understood she was letting go of anything else and saying yes

to him with her entire soul, with her entire being.

“I’ve been waiting so long to make love to you”, he said in her ear

like a secret he could no longer keep hidden, as if it was painful to not

admit it to her and he couldn’t bear it for another second. “I love you

so much…”

“I love you too, Ziven. Hold me”, she whispered, sliding her arms

around his neck, and her words got lost in the shuffling grass and

wild flowers, in the foliage of the trees at the edge of the woods and

the eternal blue sky spreading above.

He laid above her in the grass, carefully holding her, his heart

beating so close to hers, as he was drowning in the warmth of her

embrace. For a moment, she opened her eyes into his. They stared at

each other. It was as if their souls had never been so near, so

entwined, melting together in a love brighter than the summer

around them. He caressed her with his hand; again and again...

touching her seemed like a privilege he could hardly believe.

“You’re not going to be sorry about this…?”

He just wanted to be sure. But her eyes had no doubts, only love.

“I’m not going to be sorry…” she answered peacefully.

Her calm smile bared her emotions, a bit shy but somehow

confident and eager, which encouraged him to slowly and dreamily

trace her lips with the tip of his fingers, contemplating and feeling

breathless while his heart was beating faster and faster.

“Come closer” she whispered, laying her palm on his chest, as if

to feel his heartbeat rapidly increasing and he ended her sentence by

covering her whisper with a kiss.

Her lips opened softly to him like thin petals and he felt as if they

were wings locking him in a flight, taking him to a sky where only

love existed, and as he forgot to breathe, not letting go of her kiss, he

felt his mind slowly drift away and lose itself in a swirl of sensations

where they were rolling over and had become just one soul, as in

another world.

*

Later that afternoon, Ziven had to return to the camp.

“Take me with you”, she pleaded to him, as he jumped up in the

saddle of his horse.

She was holding the horse’s harness, her bright eyes staring into

his like an absolute prayer.

“Take me with you, Ziven. Take me away from here.’

He looked at her, as she was waiting in the sunlight, a red orange

aura glowing around her hair spreading freely on her bare shoulders,

with soft small leaves and grass blades scattered in the brownish

waves, as a reminder of their hours spent together. He looked at her

with nostalgia. He didn’t want to leave.

“I can’t take you with me. I’m going to a war. You shouldn’t be

there, as much as I want you with me…”

She understood there was no way for them to leave together. A

shadow appeared in her eyes. She let go of the horse’s harness. He

placed the helmet on his head.

“I’ll come back for you after the war… I really love you,” he told

her.

And he turned to gallop away. He had made the separation short,

because he couldn’t stand to tear himself from her, so he just took off

to the horizon, as she remained there, watching him disappear away.

He went back to the camp. He continued his battles, but his life

would never be the same. His soul belonged with her. After having

shared so much love with Katrin, he felt they were destined to find

each other again. It was the truth he knew most.

The war lasted for many years. He didn’t have another chance to

return to her, but when he finally came back, he didn’t find her at the

castle anymore.

The castle was deserted and only Bazyl, the tower guard had

remained.

“Where is Tzarina?” Ziven asked him frowning.

“She’s gone to a village, to ze South. Ze others were upset and

they left ze castle. They were upset at you too - you know? Because

Tzarina ran away. You won’t find her, she’s hiding in peasant

clothes.”

But Ziven didn’t care in what clothes she was hiding. He knew he

was determined to find her, no matter what. So he didn’t even pause

to rest, he turned his horse and went to look for her, from village to

village.

He finally found her in a small gathering of wood cottages, stone

houses and clay huts.

He saw her carry a bucket of water and he recognized her from a

distance. He just knew it was her. He didn’t even descend from his

horse. Both he and the horse were tired, but he didn’t wait.

“Katrin!”

She turned to look at him, surprised and lost. She was indeed

wearing peasant clothes, but it didn’t fool him. He knew her too well.

He jumped off the horse. The armor was scratching his shoulders, the

metal becoming rough on his body, but he didn’t notice it anymore.

He walked towards her, as she placed the bucket down to look at him.

Her blue eyes were distant and somehow reserved.

“I finally found you!” he said relieved. “Now you can come with

me.”

She didn’t answer. She looked down. Her silence troubled him.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He became worried and anxious.

“What’s wrong? Tell me, Katrin!”

She looked directly in his eyes.

“I can’t come with you now. I’m married to another man.”

He stared at her, bewildered.

“No… I don’t believe you!”

A small boy ran to her from nearby, grabbing her skirt with his

hands and looking at the knight a bit scared.

“Be careful, Ziven”, she told the little boy. “Don’t run so fast. Go

play with your brother for a while, I’ll be home in a minute.”

Ziven stared at the little boy, even more astonished: the child had

his name. He felt he could recognize something in the boy’s eyes. He

felt as if something new had been revealed to him. It was something

he never thought he could see.

“He’s mine!” he exclaimed, while the boy ran away.

Katrin turned to him, a bit angry.

“No, he’s not yours. His father is the blacksmith. My husband.”

The way she said those words was hurting him more than the

battles he had been through. He looked at her confused. Why did she

have a husband? Why was she married to another man? And what

about the little boy?

“But you called him Ziven. Why did you give him that name, if

he’s not mine?”

Katrin seemed very determined to deny him the joy of having a

child with her. She didn’t want to let him have that notion, that

certainty. She was shutting him out of it.

“The boy is not yours. But I gave him that name because I loved

you.”

He stared at her, trying to understand. He didn’t even ask her

why she had chosen to marry a craftsman and live a simple rustic life,

away from the royal court – and from him, the knight she had loved.

The clouds were gathering above the village and people were running

inside. It had started to rain and rushing drops of water were pouring

down both of them.

“So…” he concluded, “you don’t love me anymore?...”

“Don’t ask me that. I must go”, she said.

“Where?” he asked.

She confronted him, determined.

“I’m going back to my husband.”

That word again. He clenched his teeth.

“Why did you get married? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I waited for too long and I realized my love was not enough for

you, since you didn’t care to return… you just wandered through the

world, while I was waiting. So one day, I didn’t wait anymore. I have

a life here now.”

“I was in a war!” he protested. “I couldn’t come back!”

Katrin shrugged.

“It was long ago, Ziven… This is how it is now… It doesn’t matter

why it happened this way.”

He understood there was nothing he could do or say to change it.

So he turned around and galloped away, with the storm

darkening the woods and the rain beating on his armor.

*

Zarek woke up with a headache and a troubled mind.

The rain was beating on the windows and scattering on the

surface of the pond outside. As happy as he had been to fall asleep

with Katrin in his mind, imagining he could hold her by his side, the

moment he woke up he felt confused and worried about the

unexpected manner in which the dream had ended. He was worried

some of it would reflect upon reality. He was worried it predicted

something. Anything was possible, just as well as those people from

the paintings were walking along the corridors.

He went to have breakfast, hoping to see Agnieska and ask her

what was going on.

Agnieska was in the dining room, but she had a reserved attitude

towards him, as if the dream had already started to influence reality

and she knew something about him that made her keep a distance. “I

didn’t do anything to upset her”, he said to himself. “Why is she like

that with me? ’

She seemed afraid to talk to him. He didn’t understand why. She

was bothered by something.

“Can I talk to you? he asked her.

“I’m busy”, she replied.

And she left the room preoccupied by something.

He wondered if she could guess his dreams, or read into them and

be upset about it. She had no reason to, anyway: she already knew

the story of the knight and the Tzarina. What she probably hadn’t

expected, was to find him involved in it so much.

“Don’t mind Agnieska, she’ll be fine. It’s just ze morning weather

and ze rain, you know” he heard a voice and saw Bazyl who had come

to breakfast in a polo t-shirt and grey jeans.

Bazyl was wearing a pair of defying orange trainers, which were

contrasting with the rain outside. He was looking amused, his

moustache briskly sticking out like a grey hedgehog’s spikes.

“Agnieska is a good girl. Ze many guests are just making her

more preoccupied.”

“She seems upset about something”, Zarek noticed, looking to the

door where she had left the room.

Bazyl took his cup of coffee and sat next to him at the table.

“I know why she’s like this. I’ll tell you – I know what she’s afraid

of.”

Bazyl lowered his voice.

“She sees you started to look more and more like Ziven ze knight.

You know? You are becoming him. And that frightens her. She’s

afraid you will repeat ze legend. You will make it happen again. She’s

afraid other things will happen too. Unexpected things.”

Zarek stared at Bazyl and his spiky moustache. The ancient

tower guard seemed to be sure of what he was saying. Besides, Zarek

hadn’t looked in the mirror recently, but since he was having dreams

of being and living as Ziven, he had felt indeed a bit stronger and

bolder. He thought it might have been a random impression; he didn’t

guess it might actually be more than that. Could he have started to

step into the legend, living it for real? He knew the dreams were too

real to be just simple visions.

“Do you think I’m beginning to look like the knight?”

Bazyl blinked at him, sipping from the coffee.

“Yes, definitely. You’re changing each day. You are becoming

Ziven. A few more days and you will be him.”

Zarek was still wondering about it.

“How do you know what the knight looks like anyway?”

The tower guard grinned under his moustache.

“I know everything.”

Zarek was thinking.

“So Agnieska is worried about me becoming Ziven, but she’s not

worried about the people from the paintings walking around the

corridors? Does she know about them? Does she know about you, that

you’re a guard from centuries ago?”

“She knows. I’m not sure she knows about me, but she knows

about the paintings walking around in the present days as guests of

the hotel. They’re harmless. They’re just figures from the past. You,

on the other hand, are more dangerous because you’re bringing

unexpected events. You’re making things happen, stirring the present

upside down unpredictably. That means trouble to the castle. “

“But the people who come from the paintings… aren’t they

already troubling enough? They are walking paintings, for heaven’s

sake!”

Bazyl was watching him with a fixed glance.

“And so are you.”

Zarek thought he hadn’t heard right.

“What did you say? Me – a painting?”

“You’re about to turn into one very soon. Come, I’ll show you.”

Bazyl got up and started walking through the silent halls. Zarek

went after him, curious. They arrived in a room covered with tapestry

and big paintings, the size of entire walls. The light was dim and the

carpets were softening the steps. Zarek stopped in the doorway,

staring ahead. On the front wall there was an oil picture with a

knight, on his horse, in the woods. He recognized himself somehow in

that image, it was him – but stronger, a bit sadder as he was

clutching the long sharp sword, frowning, fierce and dangerous, like

an untamed, rough apparition. He looked at the knight with a

mixture of respect and admiration. He knew he wasn’t entirely that

way – not yet. He wished it though. He glanced further in the

painting. An elegant, beautiful, kind and somehow lost in thoughts

Tzarina would stand beside the knight, wearing a royal robe with

golden garments. Her eyes were looking insecure somewhere to a

dark distance of a future she could not envision, and yet she was not

leaving his side, holding his arm as if they were facing the world

together. Katrin, Zarek thought and his heart flinched almost in pain

to see her so lost and melancholic. A wave of tenderness went through

his spine. Somehow, after the dreams he had been experiencing at

night, in her presence, he felt they were more connected with each

other, with each moment passing by. He felt as if her charm was

heating under his skin, lighting his mind, infusing his thoughts,

running through his veins, confusing and alluring him second by

second. As he stood there in amazement, watching the imposing

painting of the two lovers in the woods, he heard Bazyl speak

carefully, as if not to disturb the figures on the walls, beneath a

majestic and triumphant tone:

“There you are! Ze knight from ze legend!”

Zarek was silent.

“And of course,