Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart - By Jesse Bullington Page 0,53
watching the dark monastery looming over the town. Narrowing his eyes, he picked up a shadow flitting over the road past the last bend. Something white moving over the white snow in the white moonlight. Whatever it might be—and he had a fairly good idea on that account—it brought the trembling back to his legs and his brain.
“Run.” Hegel snatched Ennio’s right arm.
Manfried grabbed the left and they rushed through the wagon tracks to the tavern, dragging Ennio. The poor driver went unconscious from the pain of his lower half bouncing on the icy road. As with the time he had spent with Nicolette, Hegel’s anxiety since first arriving had fluctuated mildly but never fully diminished, and now swelled again to mammoth proportions.
The spectral town glistened until clouds again enveloped it with the rightful darkness of night. The Grossbarts did not pause, and when they finally deposited Ennio on the ground outside the tavern fresh snow further shadowed them. When neither guard opened the door they forced it as they had before and dragged the comatose Ennio beside the fire. Alphonse’s snoring stopped when Manfried kicked him off his chair and began shouting in his face.
“Where’s your man?” said Manfried.
“Shit-sipping bastard,” Alphonse slurred.
“Right!” Manfried began pummeling him until Hegel dragged him off.
“Need all the swords we got if that thing comes back,” Hegel advised.
“What you did to Ennio?” Alphonse crawled to the driver and shook his shoulders. Ennio immediately awoke screaming and clawing at Alphonse’s face. The injured man’s bloodshot eyes registered Manfried advancing and he immediately went still.
“Demon,” Manfried said, and Hegel did not argue.
“What?” said Alphonse, squinting at the Brothers.
“A demon from the pit!” Hegel exploded. “Somethin from Hell, that sink through your stony pate? A goddamn fiend!”
“What?” Alphonse repeated.
“Pestilence,” Manfried proclaimed, pacing the room and pulling his beard. “Had the rot in’em. Came out. Demons and plague, Mary preserve us!”
“Plague?” Alphonse blanched and Ennio moaned.
“Shut your holes, damn you!” Hegel yelled, hurling a chair against the wall.
“Brother,” Manfried hissed in Grossbartese. “Need to keep our calm if we’s gonna get shy a here and over to the sandy lands. Calm.”
“Calm?” Hegel forsook their private lingo. “Calm! Got us a demon after us! Not some manti-what or beastly-man, but a real demon! You seen it!”
“Yeah, I seen.” Manfried shuddered. “Maybe it stayed up on the hill.”
“Rot! I seen it! It’s comin! The witch’s curse, Manfried, the witch’s curse!” Hegel raged, the foreigners cowering on the floor.
“Faith!” Manfried shouted.
“Balls!” responded Hegel, smashing a table with his sword.
“She’s watchin over us!”
“Damn right! Got us a hex gonna last til we die!”
“No, you twat, Mary!” said Manfried. “We live and die by the will a the Virgin! We die when She wills it, not fore! Faith, damn your beard, faith!”
“Faith?” Hegel panted.
“Faith,” Manfried sighed, having almost convinced himself. “You know what we gotta do.”
“Kill us a demon. For real.”
“Mary bless us, we will. Better to just get shy a this place without settin eyes on it again. Now where’s that ignorant cunt you was with?” Manfried demanded of Alphonse.
They found Giacomo facedown in the hallway, near the rear door. He had drowned in a shallow puddle of snowmelt, the water barely covering his nose and mouth. The three mobile men convened in the hall, and after Alphonse told his fractured tale all three glanced at the cloth obscuring the woman’s room.
Manfried ripped the partisan down. “What you gotta say?”
The most beautiful woman the repulsive graverobber had ever spied looked up, her supple body partially draped in dirty blankets. Hegel and Alphonse tried to peer around Manfried but his square shoulders filled the narrow doorway. Her pale thigh shone like the moon, and going on the glorious contours of the cloth he doubted she wore anything beneath her covers. She smiled mischievously, black hair glistening down her side, and Manfried suddenly felt compelled to apologize; for what, he knew not. Before he could speak she raised a finger to her dark lips, and they all heard a rapping on the front door.
Hegel and Alphonse rushed back to the main room, and Manfried sorrowfully followed, promising his eyes they would soon take her in again. She smelled different from any woman he had met, and despite the urgency with which Hegel and Alphonse ran to the door he could not tear his mind from her. The night’s events were near-forgotten, and his sharp ears were dull to the shouting all around him.