The Forgotten Village: Tales of Misbelief III Read online

  The man pointed to three steps at the back of the wagon, leading up to a door.

  Taking this an invitation, I ascended the steps and knocked. “Marika?”

  Almost instantly, the door opened, and she looked out at me in surprise. “Elena? What are you doing here? It’s late.”

  Glancing back, I saw my escort was gone. Still, I spoke quietly. “I know… but we’re leaving in the morning, and at present my husband is occupied, and I so wanted you to tell my fortune.”

  I sounded like a silly, babbling girl.

  She tilted her head. “I cannot tell your fortune. I can only read your future, and it will show me an important event your life. I can tell you what I see, and I can counsel you, but that is all.”

  In a way, this disappointed me. Perhaps I was a silly young woman who wished to hear that she’d made the right choice and that she would be happy.

  But when Marika stepped aside to let me enter, I did.

  The interior of the wagon appeared very much as it had in my imagination. There were two bunks built directly into the left side wall, with a table at the back—also built into the walls—and two chairs. The right side wall contained a set of closed cupboards. The one window had lace curtains, and colored bits of glass on strings hung from ceiling. I found it all quite comfortable, considerably more comfortable than the barge.

  “Come and sit,” she said. “You seem troubled.”

  Was I troubled? Maybe I was.

  “I haven’t been married long,” I said, following her to the back of a wagon and sinking into a chair. “And I didn’t know my husband well beforehand. We are both still… learning a good deal about each other.”

  She listened.

  “I suppose I wanted to know if we’d made the right choice,” I continued. “If we will be happy.” Even speaking of these things to another woman made me feel a little better.

  “I may not be able to tell you that,” Marika said, “but I can look into your future and tell you what I see.”

  There were no crystal balls on the table.

  “Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for being so kind.”

  She shrugged. “It’s easy to be kind to those who are kind to me.” Settling in her chair, she added. “I need to hold your hand.”

  Without hesitation, I gave her my hand, and she closed her eyes.

  I had no idea what was about to happen, and for a few moments, nothing happened. Then, without warning her entire body twitched, and her jaw clenched. She twitched again, harder this time, and gripped down on my hand.

  Alarmed, I somehow managed to keep from jerking my hand away, and I watched her face. She was breathing hard and her body twitched several more times, but she didn’t speak. She almost appeared in some sort of trance.

  It probably did not go on very long, but it felt like an eternity.

  Finally, she opened her eyes and stared at me. Then she pulled her hand away from mine and gripped the table. “You have fought against true darkness,” she said. “You’ve seen things most others have not.”

  It was true that I had fought against darkness. For years, Lord Stefan had suffered under a curse cast by an undead sorcerer, and I’d found a way to lift the curse. I’d later fought a woman who could call up ghosts and force them to do her bidding, even to the point of murder.

  But I had not come here to speak of these events.

  Marika was still breathing hard.

  “What did you see?” I asked. “Please tell me.”

  Whatever she’d seen had both shocked and upset her, and now I began to grow worried. Was there tragedy ahead for Cooper and me?

  Perhaps I should not have come here.

  “Give me a moment,” she said, clearly trying to gather herself. “I cannot explain what I saw. The future can yet be changed, and I have no wish to change yours.”

  This calmed me slightly.

  Then she leaned forward, and her voice grew more intense. “You must listen to me, and you must do what I say. Soon, the people of Tetovo Village will beg for your help, and whatever you do, you cannot refuse. No matter what it costs, you must help, or they will be lost. Do you understand?”

  “No, I don’t understand at all.”

  “I cannot say more, but trust me. When they ask for help, don’t refuse.”

  “What of me and Cooper?”

  She stood up. Her head nearly touched the low ceiling. “Forgive me. You must go now.”

  Frustrated and feeling more lost than when I’d arrived, I stood up as well. For the sake of good manners, I knew I should thank her… but thank her for what? She’d told me nothing of use.

  I started for the door.

  “Elena,” she said from behind me. “I am glad to have met you.”

  ·····

  Sometime after the mid of night, I lay sleeplessly beneath the blankets inside our tent. I’d returned without Harlan waking or noticing me gone.

  But it was so cold outside that I’d taken off my boots and gone to bed fully clothed. Then I’d draped my cloak on top the blankets. Before long my body heat had warmed the blankets, and I grew more comfortable.

  Still, I couldn’t sleep.

  Soon, the people of Tetovo Village will beg for your help, and whatever you do, you cannot refuse.

  What did that mean? It meant nothing to me.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to still my mind when I heard voices—Cooper’s and Gregor’s—followed by footsteps on the barge. A moment later, Cooper crawled inside the tent, shivering.

  Pulling back the blankets, I drew him under the covers, and then I moved halfway on top of him, trying to help him get warm.

  “You stink,” I whispered.

  He did. The stench of the trading post had permeated his clothes.

  “Do I?” He gripped me tightly with both arms. “You smell good.”

  “How much money did you win?”

  “Enough to make it worth my time. Not enough to make someone desperate enough to come after me.”

  Again… so calculated.

  Soon, he stopped shivering and one of his hands began stroking my hair. “It’s nice to have someone warm in here.”

  “You need to sleep.”

  Apparently, he agreed because he rolled me over and pulled my back into his chest. His breathing grew even, and I knew he’d fallen asleep.

  I tried to join him in oblivion, but my mind kept going back to Marika.

  ·····

  The next morning, Cooper said there was no time for me to build a fire and make tea or cook breakfast, so I sliced some bread and cheese and then cut up a few pears.

  Still, Harlan and Gregor seemed pleased, as it was a change from dried fish. Cooper wolfed down what I handed him without even looking at it, and then he untied the barge.

  All three men used their poles to guide us back out in the current, and before I knew it, the trading post—and the gypsy encampment—vanished behind us. The air was cold and damp, but it wasn’t raining, and I sat at the end of the barge watching the dark, moss-laden trees slip by. Unseen crows cawed from somewhere overhead, and the forest was so thick I wondered if it would even be passable on foot.

  “Don’t worry,” Cooper said, standing over me with his pole. “We’ll be past these dark trees by mid day. Much of Stravina is beautiful.”

  I smiled up at him. This forest did not lack beauty. It was simply . . . dense.

  The morning passed quietly, and my thoughts often turned again to Marika. I wondered about her and about what it would be like to roll from village to town in a wagon, entertaining people with music and fortune telling and feats of magic. With the exception of being somewhat insecure, it didn’t strike me as a bad life.

  Near mid-day, I felt the world overhead begin to lighten, and I realized the trees on each side of us were thinning in number. Soon, the forest gave way to open farmland and rolling hills.

  I’d never seen quite so much open space.

  The barge drifted on.

  As du
sk settled in, I looked to the north side of the river and saw neat rows of grape vines growing as far as the eye could see. They were well tended, with large clusters of purple fruit waiting to be picked.

  “Lovely,” I commented. The sight seemed to suggest order and careful planning.

  Cooper frowned as he scanned the vineyard. “Those grapes should have been picked by now. Perhaps they started in a different field. I hope they have enough ready for us to carry.”

  “You hope who has enough?” I asked, wondering who “they” might be.

  “Oh… we’ll be stopping just ahead. These villagers have grown grapes for a hundred years. I come through at this time every autumn, buy as many as we can carry and then take the grapes to our final stop, Golognè, a town with a number of wine makers and merchants.”

  “Oh.”

  Again, I was struck by the balance of production and transport—of which I had now become a part.

  Gregor turned from the front of the barge. “Almost there,” he called. “I can see the docks.”

  The sun set as we pulled up to an empty dock and tied off. Peering north in the fading light, I saw a small village set a distance away. Beyond the village, I could see heavily forested hills. Someone must have cleared the land for vineyards a long time ago.

  “We won’t go in tonight,” Cooper said. “It’s too late. We’ll go in the morning.”

  In a way, I was relieved, as this meant we could make camp right away.

  “Can we have a fire?” I asked. “I’d like to make tea and something warm for dinner.”

  Harlan and Gregor perked up at this news.

  Cooper nodded. “I’ll find some wood.”

  As he got a campfire started, I made several trips between shore and barge, gathering up what I needed.

  Once I had the hook and iron pot over the flames, I made tea and again poured it into the urn and sealed the lid shut. Then I diced up onions and tomatoes and put them into the pot with water and lentils and basil.

  Harlan and Gregor carried over small crates so we could sit around the fire. There were no other barges in the dock and no villagers in sight. It felt as if the four of us were the only people in the world.

  “The stew won’t be ready for a while,” I said. “Lentils take a while to soften.”

  Both the twins nodded as Cooper came to join us.

  I sliced up the last of the bread and slathered the pieces generously with butter. Then I poured mugs of tea. We all seemed content to sit around the fire, eating bread and drinking tea while our dinner bubbled away over the fire.

  “How much did you win last night?” Harlan asked Cooper. “Were those men as drunk as they seemed?”

  Cooper offered a rare but short laugh. “More.”

  He entertained Harlan and Gregor with several stories of how he’d fleeced the card players in the trading post. I found the stories somewhat amusing, but for the most part, again, I couldn’t help feeling that he’d been taking advantage.

  Finally, well past full darkness, I stirred the thick stew and found the lentils to be soft.

  “Gregor, please pass me those bowls,” I said.

  Moments later, we were alternately blowing on spoonfuls of lentil stew and putting the spoons into our mouths.

  At the first taste, Harlan closed his eyes in contentment. “Cooper, you should have gotten married years ago.”

  With his eyes closed, he didn’t see the annoyed look Cooper shot him.

  But Cooper held his bowl up and nodded to me. “This is good. I’d never have thought to buy tomatoes or onions.”

  Coming from him that was high praise, as he normally didn’t notice what he ate.

  We finished dinner in a comfortable near silence, and then everyone helped clean up. I looked forward to getting a closer look at the vineyards tomorrow and helping my husband to purchase as many crates of grapes as we could carry downriver.

  Once the fire was out, and we headed off toward the barge to go to bed, I looked up at Cooper.

  “Oh, I forgot to ask. What is the name of this village?”

  “Tetovo,” he answered.

  I stopped walking and even in my cloak, I felt cold. “What did you say?”

  He glanced back and frowned. “Tetovo.”

  ·····

  The next morning, after a restless night, I dressed in the plum-colored gown Sophie had given me and then I brushed out and braided my hair. My stomach was in knots, and I wondered what I might have to face this day, but I also tried to reason with myself.

  Marika must know this area and all the villages well. What if she had no ability to tell the future and had been surprised by my late-night visit and had simply spoken the first village name that came into her head? She’d certainly convinced me that that she’d seen… something and had gotten me out of her wagon quickly enough.

  Perhaps I worried over nothing?

  “Are you all right?” Cooper asked, taking down our tent.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Harlan and Gregor stayed with the barge while Cooper and I started off toward the village. As I walked, again, I tried to reassure myself that nothing of note might even happen here, and I should concentrate my efforts on helping to purchase grapes.

  Ahead, I saw a collection of wattle and daub huts, but the thatched roofs all looked new and the village was well kept. We passed a smithy on the outskirts, but I did not see any sort of market. The place appeared too small to host one. Everyone probably grew their own crops and raised animals and used the money they earned from selling the grapes to purchase seed and feed and anything else necessary for daily life.

  As Cooper and I stepped into the main path down the village, two aging women emerged from a dwelling and looked at Cooper in what appeared to be open relief.

  One of them turned and called down the path. “It’s Cooper!”

  Cooper stalled in surprise.

  Other people came running from between dwellings or out of doors. As they hurried toward us, something struck me as odd, but it took a moment to put my finger on it.

  The villagers consisted of older or middle aged men, older women or middle-aged women, a few young women, and children.

  There was not a single man under the age of thirty-five.

  Then, I heard a dragging sound and looked to one side. A young man, perhaps twenty, came from between two dwellings. He dragged his right leg, then hopped on his left, and dragged his right again. He wore a large black patch over his left eye.

  “Oh, Cooper,” one of the old women breathed. “Thank the gods you’re here. You’re the only one who might help. Do you have Harlan and Gregor with you?”

  She didn’t seem to notice me, but I didn’t mind at all. Clearly she was in great distress about something.

  Cooper looked all around. “Where are Bronson and Ives? Where are all the others?” His eyes widened in alarm. “Is there civil war rising? Were they conscripted?” He looked to the young man with the eye patch. “Werner, what’s happened?”

  Several people began speaking at the same time, but Werner did not. He glanced between me and Cooper with his good eye. I thought perhaps he had once been handsome, as his features were even and narrow, and his hair was thick and dark, but the large eye patch covered nearly a quarter of his face.

  “Slow down,” Cooper ordered. “Someone tell me what happened?”

  The same older woman took a long breath. “Werner, you tell him.”

  Everyone fell silent and looked to the young man with the eye patch

  “No…” Werner tried to answer. Then his voice grew stronger. “There were no conscriptions. They… we went through the veil. Only I came back.”

  For a moment, I thought he’d said “vale,” but his pronunciation was slightly different, and it seemed he’d used the term “veil.” I didn’t understand.

  The villagers watched Cooper with expectation, waiting for him to speak, but he shook his head. “What?”

  “The veil,” the old woman repeated, a
s if Cooper hadn’t heard correctly.

  “Forgive me,” I put in, speaking for the first time. “What is the veil?”

  She finally appeared to notice me, and Cooper motioned with his hand. “Alma, this is my wife, Elena.”

  “Wife?” Alma repeated, and then shook her head as if this didn’t matter. “The veil between worlds,” she told me.

  I was no more enlightened than before, but I could see Cooper growing uncomfortable.

  “Alma,” he said, “we’ve come to buy grapes and get them downriver. If you need my help with something, tell me straight.”

  “Tell you straight… ?” she stammered. “Get them back! Our young men have gone through the veil! All of them. We’ve almost no one to bring in the harvest, and the grapes will be frozen on the vines soon.”

  An older man stepped forward. His face was heavily lined, but his blue eyes were clear. “I’m sorry, Cooper. Alma has been waiting for you to arrive. She is over eager.” He paused. “You must know of the veil, where the little people come through at times? We all know where it is, but we know to avoid it, to give it a wide berth.”

  He glanced away and then continued. “Bronson and some of the young men have been restless of late, wanting more than a life of hard work… here. About a moon ago, a peddler came through spilling tales about gold and treasure on the other side of the veil. He hinted at first, and the… the boys started paying him to tell more. He must have left the village with most of their coin. I didn’t know. I didn’t find out until later.” His gaze shifted to Werner.

  “We went through,” Werner whispered. “And saw… the other side. There was no gold or jewels, just a dark forest, and not far in, we met the horned one. He took us. After a few nights, I tried to get away. I almost made it back to the veil and he caught me… crushed my foot and took my eye. Bronson came from nowhere to help me, and I… I got through.” His voice cracked. “I left him there… and all the others.”

  The more these people spoke, the less I understood what they said, but two things were clear to me. First, within the past moon, they’d lost all their young men. Second, somehow, they expected Cooper, Harlan, and Gregor to get these young men back.