Crimson's Captivation (21 page)

After she fed, she felt the spirit of the
deer run through her veins. She could feel the healing of her own
body and sensed that she was becoming stronger, more in touch with
what she was now—a female vampire, a glimmer of all that she was
capable of.

She quickly made her way along the Daugava
River until she was on the outskirts of Riga. There she waited
while she forced herself to remember the cross and the crescent
moon. She thought of love and the little messengers that dare set
foot on earth. She thought of herself as a seraph.

Sena closed her eyes and recalled Crimson’s
words. “He has a birthmark, the shape of Cygnus, on the left of his
neck. It’s the shape of a large cross. And on his right collarbone,
another birthmark, the shape of a crescent moon.” She recalled
Crimson’s kiss as she traced each shape on her tongue.

She found the bow of a tree and watched the
men at war. Saxons, Russians on the southern side of the river were
being bombarded with Swedish cannons from the north.

“Hmmm,” she said in a whisper. “How shall I
find this Viktor amongst all this madness?”

* * * *

After a little over two days of travel,
Viktor and his men arrived in Riga. The gods had blessed his trip
and except for the occasional close call with enemy vessels and the
alarming bursts of storms on the open seas, the trip was smooth and
quick.

From the safety of the ship, Viktor studied
the port city of Riga and it looked as if it were on fire. Smoke
billowed into the sky and turned the light of day into a gray fog.
It reminded Viktor of the paintings of hell he had seen in Germany.
Viktor and his men were at the front ramp of the ship, ready to
disembark as soon as the ship moored. And when the ship finally
settled, Viktor at once began searching for provisions. He found
the field commander and produced the decreed writ from Princess
Sophia. “Where is your quartermaster, commander?”

The commander read the written decree and
eyed Viktor. “Young prince, what is it you plan to do?”

“That, sir, is not your concern. I’m in need
of provisions. Where is your quartermaster?”

“Who knows? Do you not see the cannons on the
move? Do you not see the smokescreens from the small boats full of
burning straw and hemp? We are taking the fight to the Saxons.
Their men infest the other side of the Daugava. We have Russian
troops trapped on the island of Lucavsala. Those things I know.
What I don’t know is where the quartermaster is, nor do I care.
Wait here, prince, I have a message for you.”

“Commander!” Viktor screamed, but the
commander ignored him and walked away. A moment later, the
commander returned with a message from Karl Rehnschiöld. “I have
two letters. One from Commander Karl Rehnschiöld to you and the
other is for the king’s eyes only.”

Viktor read his message and smiled. “Men,”
Viktor said to the two men by his side. “We have arrived in the
middle of battle, but do not fear. The king has been making his way
into Poland these last few days with an entire troop of men and
supplies and we shall meet him there. He has word of where Crimson
is. We shall obtain civilian clothing, what little supplies we can,
and head south, immediately. I cannot tolerate another delay.”

“Viktor, the commander said there are
Russians to the south?”

“Yes.”

“And what? You want to barrel right through
them?”

“That’s exactly my plan.”

Within the hour, Viktor and his men were
dressed in the civilian garb common for northern cities of Poland.
Mixed in with their attire was a confusing combination of red and
blue colors. Viktor’s last man joined them with supplies of fresh
water and food and they rode on horseback to the crossing point of
the Daugava. Viktor took a deep breath and went first. He dug into
the side of his steed and the horse galloped at full speed across
the shallowest part of the river, spraying water into the smoky
air. His heart pounded as it had done the first time he kissed
Crimson. He felt more alive than ever.

His men followed and they bore through the
makeshift line of the Russians on the other side of the river. The
three of them were little more than a blur and the few Russian
soldiers who saw them didn’t attack because they couldn’t ascertain
if they were friend or foe.

They ran hard for two hours until they
reached the outskirts of Mitau to the south. Viktor halted his men.
“We shall follow the river west until we meet of up with the king
and his men.”

“Where are we heading, Viktor?”

“Minsk.”

“Sir, isn’t Minsk in Russian hands.”

“It is,” Viktor confirmed.

“Dear Lord,” the youngest soldier said aloud.
“We shall surely die this day.”

“We may,” Viktor said. “But we will die with
sword in hand and with hearts that are pure. We will die for love.”
Viktor brought his horse to a steady trot and followed the Daugava
River west.

* * * *

Sena had been watching the battle over Riga
from a distance and then, suddenly, three men on horseback shot
across the river. She had the sense that they rode as if they were
running toward something, not away from something. Their swords
were sheathed. Their clothing not military, and they apparently,
had no intention of fighting as they barreled through the southern
line.

She jumped from tree to tree, trailing
them.

Chapter V

~ The Sincerity of Deep Sleep ~

Crimson lay in her bed unable to sleep. All
of her thoughts were about tomorrow. Soon, tomorrow or the day
after, Kieran’s men would arrive and take her away. Once that
happened, there was little chance that Viktor would find her and
she would be lost to him forever. The thought of it was more than
should could bear.

She lay there thinking of her conversation
earlier with Uric in the courtyard, as she tried to halt the
seconds that brought her closer to the morning sun. She struggled
with the idea of what she must do.

* * * *

Darya, once again, was sneaking in the
hallway. Her heart pounded and thumped in her eardrums with each
light and timid step she took towards her mother’s chambers. She
had cried most of the night when her mother told her that Sergen
was being sent back to the auction house. She convinced herself
that her mother had no idea what love was and was just an evil,
scorned woman who only thought of proper decorum.
She’s
heartless!

Darya slowly opened the door to her mother’s
bedchamber and snuck in. For the briefest of moments, she thought
of killing her mother while she lay in bed asleep. But she
controlled herself and made her way to her mother’s dressing area,
where she opened her satchel and quietly began filling it with her
mother’s gold and silver jewelry.

See what you have driven me to,
Mother
? She thought, as she placed the last bit of gold into
the satchel.
Stealing as you have stolen. Sneaking as you have
snuck. Loving as you have never loved.
She inched her way back
to the doorway and looked once more at her parents, then made her
way to Sergen’s quarters.

“Sergen, are you ready?” Darya whispered
through the door.

“Yes,” Sergen quietly closed the door behind
him. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked when in the
hallway.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my
whole life. I have no fear,” Darya answered and she kissed him on
the cheek. She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

In her room, Crimson heard Sergen and Darya
whispering. She wondered if they would even make it out of the
palace before they had to have each other. That one little stray
thought settled her decision. She had to stay here if there were
any hope that she would be found by Viktor. She waited until the
whispers in the hallway ceased and eased opened her door.

Crimson made her way to the courtyard, then
to the yew tree where she picked two red aril’s from a low hanging
branch. She thought for a moment, then picked one more and made her
way back to Uric’s chamber.

“Uric?”

“Yes, Crimson.”

“Remember when you said you’d thought of
taking a long sleep from the cones of the yew tree?”

“Yes.”

“I have three of these red berries. Will they
put me to sleep?”

“The seeds will, Crimson. What is it you’re
asking?”

“I want to sleep so that Kieran’s men cannot
take me.”

Uric sat up. “Dangerous suggestion. One seed
may make you sleep, but that same seed could kill you.”

“Then help me?”

“How?”

“Watch over me as I ingest the seeds. I’ll
nibble on one just enough, then you should give me more if it
appears that I may wake.”

Uric shook his head no, “Crimson, I can’t.
What if I kill you?”

“If you don’t, Uric, I’m already dead,”
Crimson responded. She took Uric’s hand and placed the berries in
his palm. “Please, you must. I can’t bear to go back to the auction
house. I’ve learned that love requires sacrifice. I’ve learned that
if there is no sacrifice, then there is no love. I’ve learned of
the true meaning of sincerity.”

Uric studied the berries in his hand.
“Sincerity?”

“Yes, my young German prince. My intent is
sincerity and you helping me will be yours. You’ll be saving me,
Uric. Saving me from the hell that is the auction house. Saving me
in hope that my love, Viktor, will find and rescue me.”

“What if he finds a corpse, Crimson?”

“Then at least,” she pondered aloud, “At
least he has found me. Doesn’t matter. This is my only option.
Please, you must.”

Uric peeled back the red flesh of the berries
and exposed the inner greenish-brown seeds. He began nodding his
head yes. “I’ll do it Crimson. May God have mercy on my soul.”

He gave one seed to Crimson and told her to
nip off half of it with her teeth and chew it thoroughly before
swallowing. Crimson did as instructed and moments later, she fell
to her back and began to convulse. Her convulsions were violent at
first then she was still. Uric pulled back her blouse and laid his
ear to center of her breast. He could hear her heart beating. It
was slow, so slow.

He watched her through the night, and when
she began to stir and look like she may wake, he rubbed the seed on
the grit of her teeth until she fell deeper into sleep. By early
morning, she was barely breathing and seemed like she would never
return. Her heart was still beating, but only just enough to keep
her alive.

Uric thought of Crimson’s plea, “sincerity.”
He lay with his head on her stomach, facing her. He brushed back
the hair from her forehead and used a cloth to wipe away her sweat.
In his mouth, the two remaining seeds swam in the flesh of his
cheeks. Then he closed his eyes, bit down, and swallowed them.

“Sincerity,” he thought. “Such an honest
term.” He never knew the meaning of the word until he let it all
go.

The next morning, the palace was in chaos.
The countess screamed down the hallways and berated any servant
that dare showed their face.

“Tor!” she screamed. “Darya and Sergen are
missing and he stole all of my jewelry.”

Tor rushed into the hallway to find his wife
beside herself with anger and guilt. She rushed him when she saw
him. Her fists balled up and she hit him on the shoulders and
chest. Then she fell to the marble floor and sobbed. “Darya is
gone, Tor. Darya is gone. We should’ve never brought them into our
home.”

Tor comforted his wife as best as he could.
He knelt beside her and took all the blame she unloaded on him. He
tried to hug her, to console her, only to be pushed away.

“You must find Darya, Tor!” the countess
pleaded.

“I will, my love. I will.”

Tor stood and made his way to the servant
chambers where he found Crimson and Uric dead in an apparent
suicide. After closer inspection, he determined Crimson was alive,
but barely. “Guards!”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Bury the small one. Have a caretaker look
after Crimson and bring her back to health. She’s still alive. She
may know where my daughter is and I want information from her. Am I
understood?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Wait,” Tor said as he felt the mushy berry
under his foot. He bent to pick it up. “The yew? Tell the caretaker
she has been poisoned by the yew.”

Tor watched as Uric’s body was wrapped in
white cloth and taken out the back hallway and he followed. Along a
peaceful wooded area behind the palace, a grave had been dug and
Tor insisted that Uric be given all charities of death. Tor laid a
cross upon Uric’s chest and consecrated the ground with a prayer.
When the body disappeared beneath the earth, Tor said a final
prayer and checked on Crimson in Darya’s bedroom.

He slowly pushed opened the door. In the
dimness, he could barely make out Crimson’s body. The caretaker
pushed open the curtains and light flooded the room. Tor saw his
prize lying there, motionless. “How is she?” he asked the
caretaker.

“She’s in a deep sleep, my lord.”

He inched toward the bed and marveled at the
fairness of Crimson’s skin, the locks of her hair neatly covered
the pillow and she seemed so peaceful in her deep sleep. “Very
well,” Tor said. “Attend to her. I want her alive.”

Chapter VI

~ Love and Bravery: Foolish Things? ~

Most of the intense battles were to the west
near the Baltic towns of Riga, Daunamunde, and Narva. The Swedish
army fought hard to push Augustus out of Livonia, only to face
combined Polish and German armies as they pushed southward. The
push into the interior cost thousands of lives and little ground
switched alliances. Even after King Charles had displayed great
military prowess in the victory at Narva, his generals began to
make costly mistakes—mistakes that turned the tide of war. King
Charles couldn’t have known, but his decision to rescue Crimson
might have cost Sweden the war.