New Day-lighters - -Living Dead--VI

Chapter VI


It took several days for Borgda to return with Janine. Not knowing what she would find when they finally reached the small cave, she had brought all of her medicinal herbs with her expecting the worst. Borgda just said that her beloved husband had been wounded, but he didn't say how bad the wound was.

Janine dismounted from the wagon clutching her potions in a woven sack cloth, hugging them protectively to her bosom. Her black woolen cape
snagging occasionally on the thick branches seemed to be trying to keep her from her ailing husband.

"Keep walking toward that mountain. I'll catch up to you after I hide the horse and wagon," Borgda told her as he stood pointing in the direction of the cave.

Strange shadows seemed to dance among the trees, half hidden in the low lying morning mist. Fear engulfed Jeanine as she started walking the mile through the underbrush. Her gaze danced from side to side expecting something to jump out at her. Within ten minutes Borgda was by her side. Janine trembled in anticipation of the unknown. Would her husband still be alive after three day's and nights, injured and alone, or would she arrive in time to morn his passing?

The the cave loomed ominously ahead of them as they pushed through the underbrush toward it's hungry mouth. Janine could see the mouth of the cave appear and disappear as the mist passed in waves across it's opening. Like a hungry predator chomping at anything that got too close the mouth of the cave seemed to await it's next meal. Janine sensed an unknown force looming ahead and was frightened.

"Something's not right," Borgda whispered. It's way to quiet, there are no forest sounds. All is still, even the air does not move. Wait here. I'll go on alone."

"No! I can't wait any longer. I must know how he fares. Take me with you."

Slowly Borgda entered the darkened cave, with Janine close behind. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness they spied Bogard lying in a small pool of blood.

A horrendous scream escaped Janine's lips as she crumbled onto the floor of the cave, anguished tears fell from her eyes. Her magical potions scattered across the dirt covered floor like leaves being tossed by the wind.

Disbelief, etched itself on Bogard's face. As he gazed upon his twin's lifeless body, he was consumed by the look of terror frozen in his dead brother's eyes and noticed his once jet black hair, was now almost completely white.

"What could have done this?," he cried, as he knelt beside the pale, lifeless form. He bent down and picked up his fallen brother's body, he cradled him in his arms and exited the cave, not noticing the huge bat hanging in the shadows.

Janine remained motionless as Borgda carried her beloved to the wagon. Ten years seemed to have been added to her once beautiful features as her strength ebbed. Nothing will ever be the same.

**************************

The old dappled gray mare pulled the dray slowly through the early morning mist. Tired and weary from it's long arduous journey, the old mare was looking forward to the comfort of it's stall waiting for it back at the castle. Hungry for some oats she plodded onward. The rutted dirt road wound it's way through the shrouded forest and the experienced mare navigated the path with ease. Borgda held the reins loosely in his hands, the mare knew the way. The normally proud man sat slumped over as he sat on the bench staring at the backside of the mare. Occasionally he flicked the reins to speed their progress, but his gesture was ignored by the old gray.

The silence between the two travelers was overwhelming. Janine knew that her life would never be the same without her beloved Bogard. As she stared into the dense fog she felt so alone. A emptiness seemed to engulf her, no longer did she feel alive. She felt dead inside, as dead as her husband lying in the back of the wagon. Slowly she turned and stared at the man next to her, and in a voice weak and scratchy from crying she softly spoke.

"What happened Borgda? Why is my beloved lying back there silenced forever while you remain unscathed? Why did you leave him alone and uncared for? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Believe me Janine I would not have left him alone if I thought he would not be able to make it by himself. I loved him. You know that. My mind struggles with everything that had happened and I can find no fault in my actions."

"Then why do we bring his lifeless body back home? What do I tell his children?"

"I swear to you Janine, he was doing better when I left. I removed the arrow from his shoulder and cauterized the wounds. It was healing nicely, and his strength was returning when I left to fetch you and your magical healing herbs. When the time is right you will tell the children that their father loved them. That he will always remain in their hearts, and we must remain strong as a family, if we are to get through this. We must help each other with our grief."

"Easy for you to say, but I have to look them in the eyes. They will see into my soul and know that I lie. For I am weak, he was my strength, my life...my love. I am nothing without him. I miss him already."

"As do I. He was my twin, we shared a strong bond. I would have known if something was wrong with him. Maybe I was in just too much of a hurry to fetch you, that I did not pay attention to the signs."

"Signs? What signs Borgda? What signs did my Bogard send you? Tell me, please."

"I don't know...I'm not sure? That first night after I left, I had a dream it seemed so real, so frightening. Bathella was in my dream. She came for me in the night. It was wonderful and frightening at the same time."

"What did she want?"

"Me, or maybe it was Bogard she wanted. Maybe it was she who killed him?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know, I can't remember the dream, but I feel it. I hope to someday find out what happened. God help her if it was her."

"Who is this Bathella?"

"We only met her once for a few moments but there was something different about her, something wonderful, something strange...sinister. I don't know? She tried to drug us. She succeeded in drugging Bogard, but I got him out of there, that's when he was injured."

They continued on in silence and the air became still. The dense fog seemed to get thicker as day wore on. The sun usually burned off the fog after a few hours but the heaviness of the mist did not let the sun do its job.

The clip clop of the mare's hooves echoed loudly in the stillness that surrounded them. The trees, however were silent, their usually chattering leaves alive with the music of the forest, paled into a morose silence as if honoring the dead.

This abnormal silence worried Borgda, the hair prickled at the nape of his neck. Although he was dressed warmly goose bumps appeared on his arms. He felt like they were being watched. The strange eeriness of their surroundings kept him on the alert. His eyes scanned the tree line for anything out of the ordinary.

He was familiar with the dangers of the forest, and he had enough confidence in himself, that he could protect them from anything or anyone that might try to attack them. But somehow this was different, he couldn't rationalize the fear he felt. This feeling of dread, like an omen of something to come, it worried him. He could not tell this to Janine, he did not want to frighten her any more than need be. She had been through enough all ready.

As evening approached a cold gust of wind blew from behind parting the mist in front of them. Janine clutched at her cape and watched as a shadow moved in the distance ahead cloaked in darkness and partially obscured by the milky fog. Borgda was aware of the newcomer, his hands tightened on the reins. He wished now that he had brought a younger steed, the mare was sure footed but was old and slow. If the stranger should attack they could not out run him, not for long.

A flutter of wings was heard and the shadow disappeared. The two stared ahead and wondered if it was just their imagination. They thought the wind, trees and swirling mist were just playing tricks on them. They were cold and tired from their long journey and their mind was imagining things that were not there.

The forest loomed darkly around them. It would be about six more hours before they reached the safety of their home, but time and distance seemed to stand still. The never changing scenery obscured their sense of reasoning. Borgda spurred the mare onward and prayed they would not encounter any resistance. The rest of the way they traveled in silence, their eyes continuously scanning the obscured trees for any sudden movement.

By the time they reached the castle, it was beginning to rain. Borgda helped Janine down and went inside to change and get warm. She sent Gregor outside to assist with the horse and wagon, and made arrangements for her husband's body to be brought inside. The servants were to prepare Bogard's body, to be placed in the family crypt. After issuing the orders, she went upstairs to prepare herself for the dreaded task of telling the children.

Borgda gave Gregor orders to take good care of the mare and to give her an extra portion of oats. She earned it. With Gregor's aid they removed Bogard's body from the back of the dray, and Borgda carried his limp form inside and placed him on a table in the entry hall. The servants then removed him, to prepare him for his burial.

That evening in the chapel, Janine prayed for Bogard's soul. She prayed for the children and for herself, for how was she to go on without him?
He was now at peace but she was in turmoil. Strength was what she needed but she was not strong. She needed her faith now more than ever.

Borgda kept his feelings to himself, guilt overcame him. He blamed himself for everything, and took his anger out on the servants. As he stood over his brother's body he wept, and bent down to kiss his brother's cheek. It was then that he noticed the wound on Bogard's neck.
Just then the family arrived to pay their last respects.

Janine and Arianne were dressed all in black as was the custom. Johann stood by his mother's side and held her hand possessively. Although his lips quivered he did not cry and Borgda was proud of him. Janine needed his strength. He needed his mother. As the rest of the servants entered and all were present, Borgda cleared his throat and spoke.

"The master of this house has been violently taken from us. His death shall not go unavenged. I swear to you Janine, on my brother's grave, that I will find out what happened. The new master, will give the orders from now on. Johann, as the new master, would you like to say a few words?"

The stunned servants stared at Johann and Borgda. They all expected Borgda to become the new master.

Johann's mouth dropped. He was unprepared for this. Turning to his mother he said.

"I can never replace my father, but with your help mother, we can try to set things right."

Janine smiled at her young son and hugged him toward her, kissing his forehead and caressing his tender young face. The tears she tried to hold back in front of the children, now flowed freely and uncontrolled. Her heart wept for her youngest child, and yet her pride in him showed on her smiling trembling lips.

"Arianne, would you like to say anything?"

"No...yes, yes I would. What happened uncle? Why did you not protect him? Did you covet his family? TELL ME!"

"I don't know what happened Arianne, I just don't know?"

"Janine, come I would like to show you something."

As Janine approached her husbands body, she trembled and her knees grew weak. She wondered what Borgda wanted to show her.

"Look at this Janine, I think this is what killed him, it is from this wound that he lost so much blood, not from the arrow."

Janine stared in disbelief, and staggered backward clutching at her heart. She clasped her golden rosary close to her lips, kissed it and whispered a silent prayer. Her eyes held fast to the to the two small wounds on Bogards neck. She screamed and began issuing orders to the servants.

"We must take him to the crypt now, hurry before it is to late. God help us all."

The once pale and fragile Janine was now a force to be reckoned with. Her strength and determination evident in the decisive orders she issued. If they were not followed quickly enough, she admonished the dawdler with a swift kick in the pants. She knew now what had killed Bogard.
And to save his mortal soul she had to act quickly. Her children's lives were at stake and she would protect them from the devil himself if need be.

The castle's dungeon was littered with catacombs and the crypt where generations of ancestors were buried would be the safest place to put her dearly beloved. As they traveled down the long circular stone steps, the air became rank and putrid with decay. Rats scurried into the shadows as the procession entered the catacombs. The half eaten remains of unknown creatures littered the dusty stone floor where maggots gorged themselves, and flies swarmed in abundance.

The somber procession's lit torches cast eerie elongated shadows on the dark cavernous walls and a monstrous fire breathing dragon formed and reformed on the walls as the procession moved onward.

One of the litter bearers almost stumbled as he tried to cover his nose and mouth with his hand to ward off the offensive stench of the catacombs. The others quickly compensated for him and he was given a severe tongue lashing from Janine. The servants were amazed at her new found bravado. Janine who was always so quiet and sweet had now become bold and in control. If they only knew how frightened she really was they would have fled in fear for their own lives.

As they approached the tomb where Bogard was to lie for eternity, Janine breathed a sigh of relief. It was almost over. Once the sarcophagus was sealed, only god would know the fate that awaited her beloved. Only after Bogard's body was placed into the sarcophagus and the heavy four inch stone lid slid into place, did Janine show any signs of exhaustion. Her hands trembled and her body shook from the cold. All the emotion she held inside now boiled to the surface. Johann watched as his mother's face aged before his very eyes.

She unwound the golden beaded rosary from around her clenched fists and kissed the bejeweled crucifix, after making the sign of the cross in front of her face. She recited an ancient prayer
taught to her by her gypsy grandmother.

"Protect my beloved from this fate forced upon him and give him peace of mind and spirit. Protect us from the evil one who did this horrific deed and send her back to hell where she belongs. God please bless this family and guide us safely away from the realm of darkness."

She then placed the beads lovingly on the casket knowing they will keep her beloved Bogard safe and prevent him from becoming a member of the Living Dead.

With that final gesture, she just turned and walked away never looking back. Arianne and Johann walked cautiously behind her, a stunned look on their faces. The servants followed closely after them, anxious to leave this place of the dead. Only Bogard lingered, and as he ran his hand across the hard surface of the stone lid he whispered.

"I love you Bo. I will get revenge for your death."

He then turned and walked away, and as he and the torch disappeared down the stone corridor,the darkness seemed to slowly devour the stone tomb, and it soon disappeared into the shadows as if it had never existed.

*********************

When Bogard awoke, he discovered he was unable to move. He tried to rid himself of this nightmare, but his body would not let him. Paralyzed with the fear of being confined, Bogard tried to scream for help. The words formed in his mind but his lips remained silent, and so he began to panic. He tried to breathe but but no air entered his lungs. He knew he was in some sort of stone compartment, and its cold hard surface permeated through his thin tunic.

'Help! Get me out of here.' he tried to scream but the words only echoed in his mind. He felt paralyzed, and his failure to voice his fears terrified him.

'Where am I? What am I doing in here? LET ME OUT! Somebody HELP, HELP ME...PLEASE!'

He tried to struggle, but to no avail. 'Why can't I move? What is wrong with me?'His mind began to wander, wondering what could have happened to him. Who could have placed him in this cold lonely place? He tried to think back to the events that had transpired on his last adventure with Borgda. His mind was spinning as he tried to remember.

Confined in his tomb, Bogard was thinking he must be having a bad dream. If I just close my eyes and fall asleep, when I awake this nightmare will be over and I will be back in the cave waiting for Borgda to return with help.

As his eyes closed, he drifted off into a deep restless sleep. Images of a beautiful slender woman with piercing black eyes and long straight black hair appeared before him. She beckoned for him to enter, and so...he did. Her gaze seemed to overpower him, as he melted into the blackened abyss of her eyes and became her puppet.

Although he slept, it was an uneasy sleep, his eyelids fluttered rapidly in the darkness and the realistic nightmare continued.

When Bogard awoke from his nightmare, he found himself still locked in his tomb, and unable to move. His dream was no longer a dream, it was now a memory, a memory that frightened him. He saw her face, a face of evil and it laughed at him, taunted him, loved him, controlled him. He was too weak to fight her, she was much too powerful. He knew he was domed.

**********************

The servants had prepared a feast for the return of the weary travelers, but no one seemed to be hungry. The family retired early to their rooms and so the servants shared the feast instead.

"He was a kind master, 'tis a shame he lies below
leaving his poor widow all alone."

"She's not alone. Master Borgda will do her up just fine. You just wait 'n see. He's a handsome young buck, and she's still a fine lookin' woman.
Wouldn't mind havin' me a piece o' that. Nooo sir, wouldn't mind at all."

"Roulf, she wouldn't give you the time of day if you asked for it. You ain't nothin', nothin' but trouble."

"Hush that mouth of yours Gregor. What makes you better than me."

"I never said I was better than you. I'm just not as stupid as you."

"Stop it you two, stop acting like idiots. Roulf what could you offer her that she don't already have?"

A leery grin appeared upon his face.

"I could offer her this," he laughed as he grabbed at his crotch with his right hand.

"Borgda could give her that and a lot more. You have nothing, no money, no home of your own, nothing."

"You're just jealous, 'cause I don't give you no tumble in the hay, Margola. I could get me some money, easy."

"How?"

"I'll just go down into those catacombs and get me that cross and beads. Those big beautiful jewels must be worth a king's fortune."

"You're afraid of your own shadow, you would never go down there alone."

"You just wait and see. Tonight when everyone is asleep I'll just slip down there and get me that fine piece o' treasure, and prove to all of you that I'm not afraid. It's all of you that are afraid, not me."

"Why would mistress Janine want any part of someone who would rob her husband's grave?"

"She don't want it no more. She just left it there and walked away."

"She left it there for her husband, not you."

"Her DEAD husband. I'm alive, and I need It more."

"You'll be sorry, just you wait and see."

After their meal and everything was cleaned up, the servants all went off to bed, all except Roulf. Roulf waited until midnight when he knew everyone would be sleeping and he could roam the castle freely. After securing a torch he lit it and proceeded down the winding stairs into the catacombs.

The putrid air smelled worse than he remembered and he wondered if this was such a good idea. Being alone down here with the dead sent chills up his spine. His eyes kept darting in all directions, he felt as if someone were watching him. Roulf knew he was alone but his nerves were on edge and he was afraid of being caught.

He thought about what Borgda would do to him if he found out that he was the one who took the rosary. Borgda might kill him or cut off his hands. He could be boiled in oil or locked up with no food or water. He thought of all the things that might happen to him and each one was worse than the other. He almost turned back several times, but then he remembered how he had bragged to everyone and he knew he had to go on.

Each footstep he took seemed to echo off the dank, moldy smelling, stone walls. Frightening images seemed to dance in the shadows, and he kept feeling he was not alone. He thought, that just maybe the other servants were following him and were waiting for him to chicken out. He knew they thought he was nothing but dirt. He would show them, he would show them all.

At the base of the stone steps, he turned to the right and proceeded down the long corridor leading toward the catacombs. He could hear dripping water somewhere in the distance and wished he had brought some rum with him. The rum would help him forget about his surroundings and give him that extra boost of courage he needed. If not for his greed, he would have fled and never returned. He closed his eyes and tried to envision what his life would be like if he were the one with all the riches.

'I would whip those lazy servants into shape and Margola would grovel at my feet and beg for my attentions. Ha, I would show them who the master was, that I would. I would bed me a different wench every night, and if she obeyed real good I would bed her again. If she didn't, the dungeons would be her new home.'

By the time Roulf found the sarcophagus he was out of breath. His heart was pounding with anticipation, and he couldn't wait to place his greedy hands around the jewel encrusted cross.

As he approached the coffin with his torch held high, sparkles of crystal light reflected back at him. His outstretched hands trembled, and his body shivered as if someone were walking across his grave. He stared at the cross for several minutes before he found the courage to pick it up.
Now that he actually held the jeweled cross in his greedy hands, his confidence surfaced. He couldn't wait to show Margola and Gregor, and prove to them that he was not afraid of anything. So engrossed he was in examining the jewels and polishing the stones on his sleeve, that he never heard the heavy stone lid sliding off the sarcophagus until it was too late.

The instant the cross was removed from the lid of the sarcophagus Bogard felt a sense of release. His fingers flexed and his muscles began to twitch. Whatever had kept him frozen in time had now released him. Though still weak he was getting stronger. He felt a hunger building deep inside and an urgent need for freedom. As he stretched his arms upward he felt the heavy stone lid move. He gradually lifted the lid and slid it to the side.

As Roulf turned to leave and take his treasure with him, a cold chill raced through his body and he shook uncontrollably. He felt a flutter of wind caress his cheek and he wondered where the breeze had come from. There were no doors or windows in this sealed off room and the air was dank and stale. Spinning around to look, a shocked expression appeared on his face, and it quickly turned to fear. The fear of knowing that he had been caught robbing the dead.

"I'm sorry Master Borgda, I just wanted to look at it. It is so beautiful. Here, I'll put it back."

As he stepped around the imposing figure he cringed in anticipation of the beating he was about to receive. Reaching out to place the rosary on the coffin lid, he stopped in his tracks, it was then that he noticed the lid was off and the coffin empty.

His hands began to tremble, and the dangling beads wavered from side to side. It was then that it dawned on him, that it was not Borgda that stood behind him...but Bogard. He sucked in his last foul breath of air, the as rosary slipped through his fingers, and the last thing he heard was the echoing sound of the cross clanking against the inside of the sarcophagus and settling to the bottom of it's stony surface.

He could feel his knees buckle underneath him as he grew weaker and weaker from loss of blood. The pain of his tearing flesh was worse than any punishment he could have imagined. As the light slowly disappeared, his glazed eyes became fixed and his pupils dilated from lack of oxygen to his brain. Bogard then scooped up Roulf's lifeless body and tossed it into the stone coffin, and easily slid the lid into place.

"A fitting tribute to be buried with what you covet most."

Bogard screamed in triumph, "I'M FREE. I'M FREE AT LAST!"

His body quivered as his strength slowly grew in intensity and he felt a powerful surge of energy seep through his entire being. His senses became acutely aware of his surroundings. It was then and only then that he realized the magnitude of what he had just done, and of the crime he had just committed. But it felt good to be alive and out of that dark cold tomb.