The Girl with No Name Ch. 06

"So you enjoy the strap, my little slut?"

"I am here to please you, Master Bagatúrckt. My body is for you to enjoy. What I want doesn't matter, does it?"

Bagatúrckt was at a loss how to proceed. He had wanted to further humiliate the penitent, and then drag her before his friends, to break her and make her cry even more. The seminary student had been a lot of fun...crying, praying...insisting that she loved him...and totally incredulous over everything he did to her. It seemed the peasant girl wasn't falling for any of that. She would not resist anything he wanted to do to her, but she would obey him as a mistreated servant, not as a hurt lover. Her attitude about having sex with him would be exactly the same as if she were ordered to sweep the floor or gut a chicken.

He ordered her to lick his penis. She obeyed and managed to get an erection out of him. He pushed her to the bed and entered her. She lay quietly, neither cooperating nor resisting, as she waited for him to finish. She thought to herself - I just have to get through this...just get through it...a month...the house servant told me it'll be a month...I hope it's not any more than that...

Bagatúrckt was completely disappointed. He left the room and did not return until sunrise the next day. He went out drinking with his friends and did not mention the peasant girl he had deflowered and who was still locked up in the guest bedroom. With her quiet sullen obedience, it was very possible the others would have made fun of him had he attempted to pass her around.

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Bagatúrckt decided to head into the mountains a couple of days sooner than he had originally planned. Breaking the peasant girl had turned out to not be nearly as much fun as he anticipated. However, as much as he wanted to get rid of her, he still needed an assistant to accompany him into the mountains, to attend to things such as cooking and grooming the horses while he searched for his mysterious mushrooms.

The couple rode into the hills overlooking Sevérckt nad Gorádki. The view was exciting: rolling sheep pastures rising higher and higher, leading up to the dark forest beyond. The day was beautiful and clear, allowing Danka to look south and observe the entire central region of the Duchy. She could see portions of the Rika Chorna River in the distance and, if she had a telescope with her, she would have been able to make out Rika Héckt-nemát and Starívktaki Móskt. It was fascinating to be able to see so much at once. For a few moments she enjoyed herself as she managed to ignore the fact she was traveling with a man she loathed.

As they entered the forest, Danka's attention was turned to keeping up with Bagatúrckt and trying to maintain control of a horse without knowing anything about riding. The spectacular view vanished: now there was nothing to look at except huge trees and her companion's back. They traveled slowly, because Bagatúrckt frequently stopped to look at a compass, consult a map, or write some comments in a journal. The terrain became much steeper as the afternoon wore on. Finally, just as the sun was setting, they arrived at clearing with a small alter and a campsite where they would spend their first night.

"Get us enough firewood to make it through sunrise. You are responsible for maintaining it. Also, start a pot of water to boil and fix us a portion of the dry meat in my saddlebag."

"Yes, Master Bagatúrckt"

Bagatúrckt gave Danka an irritated look but said nothing more.

After they ate and Danka washed their utensils, Bagatúrckt went to sleep. Danka looked at the sleeping man with complete disdain and hatred. Her acting and the effort to hide her emotions had been perfect, but still she was devastated by what he had done to her and by what he had planned to do to her. Now he was silent and helpless. It was nice to not have to hear his voice or deal with his stupid ideas.

Although her nemesis now was asleep, Danka never contemplated seeking revenge by attacking him. She still considered herself inferior to most of the people surrounding her. She may have become literate over the past year, but she remained an impoverished unmarried young woman with no title, living in a culture dominated by married men who owned property. Regardless of what he had done to her, Bagatúrckt remained a "Master" who was socially superior to her. After-all, he was the son of a Senior Priest. It was safe to assume that if she killed him and was caught, she'd face execution regardless of the motives or circumstances. Besides, she could not imagine the Creator was pleased with her, living a life of lies under a fake collar. Maybe what had happened was the Creator's way of punishing her for all the lies she had told over the past year. Certainly a murder would not improve her prospects in the After-life.

Another issue weighing on Danka was the reality that she had little experience dealing with men or boys. What she had witnessed during her childhood would not have persuaded her that women had any rights. She was used to seeing her father routinely beat her mother and many of her neighbors doing the same to their wives and daughters. She had no way of knowing whether Bagatúrckt's treatment of her was acceptable in the view of Danubian society. She suspected that it was not, but her past experiences gave her no guidance.

As she tended the fire, the main question in Danka's mind did not concern Bagatúrckt at all. She was more worried about whether or not she should return to the Temple in Starívktaki Móskt. Apart from a safe place to sleep, there was nothing waiting for her there. The seminary student who had mentored her was gone and she had no other close friends. She certainly would never have any respect for the Senior Priest or Senior Priestess, considering they had raised a son who was so depraved and whose soul was so broken. She didn't want to study for the Priesthood, nor end up like those two older women who had spent most of their lives in the same place and doing the same thing, year after year.

She understood that it would be better not to go back...but if she didn't, then what should she do?

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The following day the couple continued their journey, passing through a forested valley and crossing in front of some spectacular waterfalls. Their trek took them northwest and towards several streambeds. Bagatúrckt began searching in earnest for his mushrooms, following maps and copies of journals. A couple of times that day he ordered the peasant girl to get on her hands and knees. He'd take off his pants, enter her, and mercifully was finished within a few minutes. Neither he nor the girl considered it making love. For him it was little more than stress relief, for her it was nothing more than one of her obligations as his servant.

At the end of the second day they made camp in a clearing near a stream. It was an idyllic spot, worthy of a poem. Bagatúrckt scribbled one into his journal while the peasant girl collected firewood. As he watched her, he admired her naked body. He decided to include a few lines about her as well, even though he no longer was very interested in her. Still, she could be the source of fantasy and go well into a poem...

Danka started the fire, cooked, and ate a silent meal with Bagatúrckt. When he dozed off, she took the utensils to the stream to wash them. She decided to jump in and rinse off. It was a lovely evening, with a moon that was almost full and fireflies dancing in the woods all around her. An occasional bat or swallow passed overhead.

A much larger shape passed over, completely silent. Danka's heart stopped, because it was way too large to be a bat or swallow. She must have been imagining things. The shape passed over again, this time very close. It looked like a bird, but incredibly large. She tried to figure out where it went as it vanished into the black forest. The bird flew over a third time and landed on a branch near the river. Danka couldn't run: it seemed the streambed held her feet tight. Whatever that bird was, she'd have to face it or chase it off.

"Hello? Bird? Is that..."

A pair of huge eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, suddenly emerged into the peasant's view. She was so scared that her knees shook and her breathing became difficult. She felt very cold.

From a distance she heard the hooting of an owl. Then the one close to her answered with a loud hoot that shot straight into the girl's bones. The eyes, which seemed suspended in the darkness, did not budge. They became the only thing she was able to see. Nothing more than a pair of large hostile eyes.

Then the owl spoke to her. He did not speak through hoots or by making any other sound. He spoke to her soul.

"You know your true Master, Danka Síluckt. It is I."

"No. I don't. I don't know you."

"Ahhh, but you do, Danka Síluckt. Remember what the scripture says: ' The Destroyer enters the Realm of the Living through the mouth of the liar'. You will not escape from me, liar."

Danka said nothing, but the cold terror completely filled her soul. The voice continued:

"You tried to ignore the warning last year. You convinced yourself it was just your imagination. Thought I would just go away. Why would I do that, Danka Síluckt? Why would I just go away and leave you in peace? Why?... Why?... Why?..."

The owl's final words faded into hoots. The bird took off and flew over her head, so close that she felt the brush of air from his wings.

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The couple traveled deeper and deeper into the mountains, checking streambed after streambed. Bagatúrckt collected samples of rare mushrooms, but for several days the "the Joy of the Ancients" eluded him. He did not despair, because he knew the mushroom would be hard to find. His Vienna friends would not have wagered a purse of gold had they suspected searching for "the Joy of the Ancients" would be easy. He had all summer to locate his elusive treasure and a girl to make his life comfortable during the search. He liked the forest, at least during the summer and enjoyed writing in his journal.

Danka, meanwhile, lived in mortal fear. At dusk, everywhere she looked, she saw owls. Usually they were ordinary owls, but every so often, she'd see that owl, the one that carried the Destroyer's messages.

She knew the Destroyer was watching her and waiting...but waiting for what? Was her own death approaching? Danka thought about the separation of her soul from her body, as she followed Bagatúrckt from streambed to streambed. If her death was about to happen, was that necessarily a bad thing? Was there any joy in life that she'd be leaving behind? Anyone she cared about or who cared about her? Did she really have anything to live for at all?

Two nights later, Danka stood in another streambed after cleaning up the remnants of dinner. A large black bird approached in the darkness, flew over her, and landed in a branch near the water. The cold feeling returned. When she tried to move her feet, the ground tightly held her ankles. The bird looked at her. Once again the moonlight illuminated his eyes.

"Danka Síluckt. Our Paths in Life merge again."

"Yes, Owl. You're...you're planning to separate my soul from my body?"

"Not yours. At least not yet. Someone else's, perhaps. Maybe I'll grant you another wish."

"Another wish? You haven't granted me any wishes. My only wish is for you to go away."

"Liar. Of course I granted you a wish, liar."

Danka momentarily saw her mother, uncontrollably sobbing and cradling a body. It was her sister, Katrínckta. Danka's sibling had her hair braided and was wearing a white dress, but she was no longer pretty. Her face was horribly swollen, with darkened features and an agonized appearance. Danka saw her mother's expression in detail. She was shrieking and mad with grief.

The illuminated eyes reappeared.

"So you see, Danka Síluckt, I do grant wishes."

The owl took off and flew over Danka's head. A cold gust of wind swept by as the bird passed. The ground released Danka's feet.

She fell on her hands and knees and threw up. She drank some water and tried to clean her teeth. She returned to the campfire and contemplated Bagatúrckt's sleeping body.

That reminded her... Babáckt Yaga's paste...she hadn't the chance to put it in that day. She went to her bucket and retrieved a jar. Once she finished she returned to tend the fire. It seemed that eyes were staring at her, but she knew that nothing would approach her in the presence of Bagatúrckt.

A wish...well, I wouldn't mind seeing this man dead...

That thought was answered with a sensation of extreme cold sweeping through her body.

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The next day Bagatúrckt took his companion past a waterfall, the highest they had seen so far. He decided to leave the horses tied near the stream and find a way past the cascading water, to see what was above it upstream. They spent the entire morning climbing a steep slope, but by noon they had made their way into to a picturesque valley with vegetation Danka had never seen before. She looked at the mountain beyond, and noted that its top was covered with grass and moss, not trees. She would have been curious to go that way...see why there were no trees, but she figured Bagatúrckt would not be interested in exploring in that direction.

Bagatúrckt took off his pants and ordered her to get on her hands and knees. As always, she complied, but she was irritated he had to spoil her memory of the lovely place by wanting sex at that very moment. He finished within a few minutes and pulled his clothing back on.

Danka rinsed off in the frigid water. When she glanced around at the nearby rocks, she noticed a strange sight among all those strange plants; mushrooms totally different from any she had ever seen. They were metallic bluish-green in color and perfectly round. They were one of the strangest things she had ever seen in nature: they really did not look like something a person would expect to see in the Realm of the Living.

She wondered if she had found what Bagatúrckt was looking for. She was not thrilled about helping him, nor did she want to see him destroy those beautiful mushrooms, but she did want her outing with him to end and to have him depart from her life.

"Master Bagatúrckt. I found something. Some weird mushrooms. Maybe it's what you're looking for, Master?"

Bagatúrckt approached. As soon as he saw the mushrooms his expression changed. Danka was frightened, because his look was one of unrestrained evil glee.

"Yes. This is it. This is what I wanted. And they doubted me. All Vienna will know me now. The purse...it's mine...all mine...the gold...mine."

Bagatúrckt ordered his companion to stay with the first batch of mushrooms while he wandered up and down the stream looking for more. He returned with a cloth sack half full of specimens. He then proceeded to pick all of the mushrooms where Danka was sitting. She looked at him with disgust. If his purpose was merely to prove the existence of "the Joy of the Ancients" then, why not just take a few samples and leave the rest? Why did he have to clean out the entire streambed?

"All mine...'the Joy of the Ancients'...belongs to me...yes..."

Of course, there was not a single word of thanks to Danka, the person who actually discovered the mushrooms. After-all, she was nothing more than a servant and not worthy of sharing any credit.

The return trip was difficult. The slope was very steep, there was no marked trail, and both the man and the woman were weighted down. He had the bag of mushrooms that he had to be careful not to bump, and she was weighted down with everything that he had carried up. It was dark by the time they returned to the horses.

Bagatúrckt laid the mushrooms out on a cloth while Danka stumbled around looking for firewood. As soon as she had a fire going, the master pulled the cloth close to the heat to begin the process of drying the fungi. He and the servant spent the entire night carefully brushing off the dirt and separating the stems from the tops. The next day was hot and sunny, so Bagatúrckt decided to stay in the clearing and try to dry his loot as much as possible before returning to Sevérckt nad Gorádki.

They stayed two days. Except when she had to pick berries or collect firewood, Danka finally had the chance to sleep. She was exhausted from having spent days riding all day and tending fires all night. She also found it hard to close her eyes in the dark after being totally traumatized by her nighttime visions. During the day everything seemed different, which allowed her to rest.

Bagatúrckt was too worried about his mushrooms to worry about his companion. He built a stick platform in the sun, where he laid the cloth to allow the air to circulate underneath. He carefully counted the specimens and drew pictures of some of them. Danka knew that if she tried to take any samples or even touch them without permission, her master would kill her. Not touching "the Joy of the Ancients" was fine with her. She suspected the mushrooms were cursed by the Destroyer the moment they were picked and had no desire to be anywhere near them.

On the third morning after harvesting the mushrooms, Bagatúrckt announced that he was ready to return to Sevérckt nad Gorádki. The mushrooms were dry enough to transport. The master carefully rolled up the cloth with the mushrooms tucked inside and looked around for a good container. He spotted Danka's bucket. Without asking her permission, he grabbed it and pushed in the rolled cloth. He took no notice of Danka's other belongings lying at the bottom. He mounted his horse and tied the bucket to his saddle. Danka despaired at the thought of those evil mushrooms being kept in her bucket and her bucket being take away from her, but she said nothing. All she could hope for would be that she'd have her possessions returned to her as soon as they returned to Sevérckt nad Gorádki.

They moved quickly in the direction from which they came, covering in a single day the same distance that had taken them four days coming out. Darkness fell and Bagatúrckt reluctantly dismounted. They already had covered more than half the distance towards Sevérckt nad Gorádki, but the rest of the trip would have to wait until the next day. They couldn't go any further in the dark.

Danka was not thrilled about stopping. She could feel the Destroyer's presence, a premonition confirmed by the occasional dark shape flying overhead. She heard the twittering of bats...but it was not the bats that scared her. It was the owl...that owl...the one that was waiting for her.

Fortunately they stopped at one of their previous campsites where there was some spare wood left over from their last fire. Danka gladly lit it and started dinner. While the peasant girl was cooking, the master examined some of the mushrooms, to make sure they were still dry and fresh. He decided to keep three tops and three stems in his hand before putting the others back into the bucket. He set the bucket next to his bedroll and contemplated the magic he held in his hands.

"'The Joy of the Ancients' is mine now. I am worthy of it, and it is worthy of me. My Path in Life is to deny myself nothing, to experience every pleasure the Realm of the Living has to offer. This is it: the joy that the Ancients left behind, the joy that transcends mere mortality. I found it, and I will share it, but before I do, I will not be denied. I will indulge...experience...it is my Path in Life."

Danka watched as, one piece at a time, he placed the mushrooms in his mouth and thoughtfully chewed them. For a while nothing happened, apart from Bagatúrckt staring blankly into the fire. His gaze eventually grew more vacant, but apart from that he seemed very relaxed. His mouth started to move, as though he were speaking silently. The fire was starting to die, but Danka was terrified at the thought of wandering into the darkness to find more firewood. She was as immobilized by fear as he was by his trance...or by whatever it was that was happening to him.