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Billy the Barbarian 3
A Graveyard of Titans
By Virgil Knightley
Map
 Copyright © 2021 Virgil Knightley All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not
intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express
written permission of the publisher.
To a slew of people who will never read this book.
 Table of Contents

Title Page
Map
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Farewell!
 Chapter 1

T he shimmering bronze of Billy’s magical ax-blade glinted cold

under the light of a glimmering crescent moon. He discerned
the reflection of his eldritch quarry as it danced on the
polished metal and the fell creature skulked behind him—a living
shadow.
The sullen specter believed it would catch the warrior unawares.
That was its grim folly. After a month of pursuit—learning, adapting,
growing, and developing the skills and tools to hunt them—Billy was
ready. The phantom’s senses and wits were dulled from fatigue and
hunger. In fact, the shades had all been starved out, and after weeks
of fear and death ruling over the city of Yarnesh, order was on the
threshold of return at last.
The young barbarian was unaccompanied, his companions in
pursuit of the other shades. They were hot on their trails, making it
harder for the creatures to settle into any one district long enough to
wreak their havoc or torment the inhabitants of the city.
For the last week, they’d kept the malevolent spirits on the run
each night, and as a consequence, their powers diminished little by
little as they were unable to sow their seeds of chaos and feed. The
shades’ movements were now pained and slothful, where once they
inspired awe at their ethereal grace.
Billy almost pitied the creature as it descended upon him. It
looked so much like Shul, the god he faced in the isolated desert
tomb, but it wasn’t him. It couldn’t hold a candle to the glorious
strength of the Ram God of Pain and Pleasure. These were wicked
trickster spirits, living for nothing but the spread of discord—wayward
fractures of a broken soul.
The barbarian’s strikes and blows were once inexpert and
savage, but after weeks of practice in this world, especially in the last
month of repeatedly stalking the shades of Shul throughout the city
of Yarnesh each and every night from dusk till dawn, his movements
had grown precise and practiced. His grace now nearly matched his
raw might.
As he observed as the shade charge him clumsily from his rear,
he knew that tonight would be the final night of the hunt. With a
dodge and a strike, it was over. The malform shade collapsed,
dashed by the magic ax, reduced to a pile of ashy residue that
stained one wayward corner of the market street.
The barbarian hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Meanwhile, in the temple district, Kaya and Audelia lurked
behind their own prey, obscured in shadows cast by aged pillars and
immense statues. The sight of the temple reminded them of their
hidden shame, that they released the shade, and it split into three—
one for each of the corrupted cores, they hypothesized.
They could sense the suspicion and blame of the First Apostle
and his closest advisors, but no one ever dared accuse the Chosen
directly. Whispers and quiet implications abounded, but to out the
Chosen in broad daylight would be tantamount to blasphemy—this
convenient tradition served them well. However, it was made clear to
them that as the Chosen and his concubines, it would be their duty
to clean up the mess.
The expectation suited them fine. They weren’t about to leave
the city to rot under the bedlam that they’d themselves unleashed.
They coordinated a city-wide curfew with the First Apostle when it
became clear that the shades were active primarily at night, and
each night just after sundown—they hunted.
The problem was that the shades were fast, and they grew
quicker and stronger the more they fed on the pleasure and pain of
the denizens of Yarnesh, but their power wasn’t limitless, and it
needed sustaining. That was their weakness.
Only a week prior, Billy and his companions fully understood the
nature of the creatures. The more they preyed upon others, the more
their threat grew. So, all they needed to do was to keep the
phantoms on the run, burning through their reserves rapidly until
they made themselves vulnerable. After a week of this strategy,
Kaya and Audelia sensed that tonight the nightmare would cease.
Isandra was meditating on similar observations in a slum along
Yarnesh’s northern edge, where shanty houses hugged tightly
against the mudbrick walls of the city. Children and other curious
onlookers watched the scantily-clad beauty through their windows as
she and her giant cobra walked their streets fearlessly.
The shade they’d been chasing was so fatigued now that it
barely even bothered to hide. It couldn’t flee. It couldn’t fight. It
wallowed frightfully under an apple cart, parked outside a sad-
looking hovel made of clay brick and dried grasses.
“Come out, now, Shade of Shul, and face your obliteration,”
called Isandra, her platinum blonde hair glowing yellow under the
moonlight. Her serpentine eyes glowed softly, blessed by the twilit
sky as her gaze fixed precisely on what little of the shade was
visible, poking out from beneath the cart. “To think we were horrified
at your first appearance.” She cocked her head sideways, bemused
at the thought.
And it was true. They all felt the same creeping dread on the
day when they made their mistake, when Billy unleashed the shades
as he rejected Isandra’s attempt to sacrifice her own powers.
In the end, she almost felt that Billy was right to do what he’d
done, but that wasn’t true either. Lives were lost for their error—
many lives. That it was working out at last after a month of trial and
error didn’t erase those losses but made them sting all the more. If
they’d known then what they knew now, how to defeat the shades,
they could have had it both ways… But it was a useless line of
thought. Like sunny weather at a funeral, it did nothing to soothe her.
Isandra blasted green fire from her fingertips, consuming the
cart in weird tongues of jade flame. She felt the essence of the
shade depart as it hissed and shrieked whilst the flames ate it whole.
Kaya and Audelia helped their quarry to meet its end, as well.
This shade was more brazen, foolhardy, as, after a while, it seemed
like it had convinced itself that it was the hunter and they were the
prey. Of the three shades, this one still had the most power left, and
it attempted to put up a fight as it lunged at them in their hiding
places, and they, forced to dodge, were put on the defensive. But
that didn’t last.
Kaya shadow-stepped behind the shade, sinking two daggers
into its back just as Audelia plunged her jeweled sword through the
thing’s corrupted heart. And just like that, it was done. The shades
were defeated, and the city would be renewed.
But the renewal had come at a cost. Buildings were damaged.
Families were destroyed. Hundreds of people had died or been
reduced to madness. And, of course, they’d lost the confidence and
trust of many of the temple officials.
“What comes next?” Audelia asked that night as they all
returned to their inn quarters. Their stay was being covered by the
temple, but more and more begrudgingly, as the days pressed on.
“We leave,” Isandra said. “We should return to Turik for a time. I
have neglected my duties for far too long.”
Kaya nodded. She licked a strand of her hair for a moment,
deep in thought, before ultimately voicing her agreement. “With your
position there, Isandra, we’d definitely be able to avoid trouble and
have the freedom to set our own agenda.”
“But first we have to let the First Apostle know we did our job,”
Billy pointed out.
“They’ll be relieved to see us go, I imagine,” Isandra said,
looking out the window with a regret-laden sigh. They’d truly
complicated things here, and she knew her standing with the First
Apostle was more tangled than ever before. On the one hand, she
brought honor to herself by becoming intertwined with the Chosen of
Amar’nak. On the other, she suspected that she was silently blamed
for the theft of the scrolls and the unleashing of the shades.
“They’ll miss us after a hot minute,” Billy said, kissing her on the
cheek. She conceded a smile in spite of herself. The affections of
her beloved barbarian were impossible to deny. She turned her head
cunningly, forcing him to slide across her cheek until his lips met
hers.
“There’ll be time enough for that in Turik,” Kaya groaned
covetously, shadow-stepping behind Billy and tugging him away from
the high priestess. “The last thing we need is you getting
supercharged right before we leave town.”
“Right,” Billy sighed, knowing she was correct. “I’ll be a demon
magnet if we do that.”
“I wonder,” Audelia asked while doing situps on the bed, “Does
anyone know what Becky is up to these days?”
Billy shook his head. “I think she skipped town a couple of
weeks ago,” he said.
“That doesn’t look very good on her part,” Kaya noted. “At least
we stuck around and helped with the shades.”
“It was our problem,” Billy laughed. “Of course, we stuck
around.”
“Still.” Kaya shrugged. “Even if everyone knows that, no one
blamed us publicly, so the whole pretense for asking us to help was
because you’re a Chosen of Amar’nak, Billy. So was she. Wouldn’t
she have been asked to help, too?”
Billy shrugged. “Beats me. You’d think so, though, wouldn’t
you?”
“It’s not our business,” Isandra said. “We can ask her for
ourselves when our paths cross again.”
“If they cross again,” Kaya corrected her.
Isandra smiled coolly. “Oh, they shall,” she said. “And I imagine
someday sooner than you think.”
Billy chuckled as a memory flashed in his head. “Do you
remember when we watched her ceremony, and she saw me?”
“Yes,” Isandra nodded, stifling a giggle. “And her eyes practically
bulged out of her head when she recognized you from the
marketplace.”
“I was disappointed we didn’t get a chance to talk to them,” the
barbarian remarked wistfully. “I hope they’re doing alright. I wish
them the best, at least.”
Kaya and Audelia exchanged confused looks. The redhead spit
a lock of hair out of her mouth and cocked an incredulous eyebrow.
“You hope they’re doing alright? Why?” Kaya asked.
“Why not?” Billy said, shrugging.
“They’re your direct competition,” Isandra sternly pointed out
with a finger jab to his chest. “You are both in pursuit of cores, and
while there are dozens if not hundreds out there, there are only so
many that are low-hanging fruit, easy to reach. She will be trying to
beat you to them. What’s more, while you both can grow in power,
only one of you will likely be chosen to ascend to full godhood.”
“Oh.” Billy blinked at the revelation. “So, she’s an enemy of
circumstance.”
“Precisely. She may very well be a delightful young woman, but
she is your nemesis,” Isandra reiterated. “Do not take her lightly. And
certainly, do not ‘wish her the best.’” She chuckled a bit at that,
relieving a bit of the tension of the lecture.
But Billy was still jarred by the truth of his relationship to the
other Chosen. He’d seen her as a kindred spirit before—she was,
after all, on the same path and from the same world. But now, he
realized, that those feelings needed to be tempered. The epiphany
left him feeling suddenly alone.
The next day they sent word to the First Apostle of their victories
against the three shades that had been tormenting the city over the
last month. The First Apostle was less excited to see the barbarian
standing before him than he was upon their first meeting. Still, they
each greeted and treated the other with respect despite an air of
tension that scratched at them just beneath the surface.
“It is with great joy that we received your missive this morning,”
The First Apostle began. “We honor you for your service to the
people of Yarnesh.”
“Have your scribes uncovered the origin of the creatures?”
Isandra asked. Of course, she knew the origin herself but was
curious what the First Apostle had discerned. To ask such a question
was risky, though.
“It seems from the appearances that they took that they were
aspects of Shul,” he answered her, casting a grim look upon them
all. “Which leads me to conclude that they followed you here,
considering your conquest in his tomb.”
Billy gulped.
“Relax, my Chosen,” said the First Apostle with a wry smile.
“You could not have known the shadow of a god was stalking you.”
Billy felt all three women beside him let out a relieved sigh. It
seemed they weren’t as directly under suspicion as they’d thought—
at least not by the First Apostle. “Of course, Holy Father,” Billy said,
using his honorific correctly. Isandra beamed at him, surprised and
pleased at his embrace of the title. Billy was just comforted to see
that they were off the hook and could hardly contain his grin.
“And what of the theft?” Isandra pressed further. Kaya resisted
the urge to flinch at the question. “Did you uncover the
perpetrators?”
“No,” the First Apostle scowled. “But we did manage to retrieve
the missing scrolls and artifacts.”
“That’s a relief,” she said, and it truly was. They’d left the scrolls
in a locked hovel on the edge of the temple district. It was attached
to an abandoned house, so it implicated no one. They left the door
slightly ajar, and sure enough, someone went investigating and had
evidently reported the find to the authorities, as Isandra hoped they
would. Their sins had been undone.
Partly. There was still the deception itself—and the loss of life.
Those sins were as irrevocable as they were unforgivable.
They chatted for a time, updating each other on the
developments within the temple and in the city, and at last, the
question came. “I wonder,” began the sage man, “Might I inquire as
to what you plan to do next, Chosen?”
Billy stuttered a bit as he tried to talk. “I, uh, we were—”
“Having finished our task here,” Isandra interrupted, “we thought
it appropriate to return to Turik. I’ve left my station there for too long.”
The First Apostle nodded solemnly. “Yes, but your first
responsibility is to the Chosen,” he said, his wrinkled eyes cast down
upon her. “It may be time for a new high priest to rule in Turik.”
Isandra’s heart sank to hear those words, but part of her had
anticipated them. How could she be expected to maintain her post
when she was traveling the world slaying gods and going on
reckless adventures with the Chosen of Amar’nak?
“If you wish it, Holy Father,” she said in an obedient bow, “I will
relinquish my cobra to you now.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “There is no need for that. You
have a brother who is rather active in temple affairs, correct?”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at the mention of her brother
Iskar. “Yes, Father.”
“I understand it he is well-loved by his community, and though
he isn’t yet ordained, he would make an excellent Acting High Priest
in your stead. At least for now. His connection to you will comfort
your loyalists and the people of Turik, and his good heart will make
him a wise leader.”
The suggestion was logical. The fact that she still had the First
Apostle’s favor enough for him to make such a proposition shocked
her. Her heart beat so fast and so hard in her chest she couldn’t
count the beats if she wanted to. Despite her best efforts to hide her
emotions, her lips curled in a grateful smile, and her eyes moistened
with tears of joy.
“Thank you, Holy Father,” she said, bowing deeply. “Iskar is the
wisest and gentlest man I know and a devout servant of Amar’nak,”
she said. “He is adored by many and hated by none. It is a most
wise suggestion.”
 “Of course, child,” he said, returning the smile and bow.
“Can I ask a question?” Billy spoke up suddenly. The holy man
nodded as he scrutinized the barbarian.
“Do you know where Becky went off to?” he asked.
“Ah,” the First Apostle nodded as he recalled the young woman.
“She went westward, toward Imathia. She left in a hurry, though she
would not say why.”
Billy looked to the women on either side for guidance as he
knew little of those lands. “Another kingdom,” Kaya said. “Far from
here, with its own gods.”
Billy sighed a bit to hear the news, but it was probably for the
best. He didn’t want to fight her, not yet. He would detest having to
harm her. Then again, he’d hate being harmed by her just as much.
After their meeting with the First Apostle had concluded, they
were dismissed. Billy, Kaya, and Audelia were already raring to hit
the road once more, but Isandra asked to linger for a day to pray for
their safe journey home. Beyond that, she wanted to thank Amar’nak
for the blessings she’d been given so far and please her god for the
continued safety of her brother.
Billy chuckled to himself. It wasn’t that he mocked her
devoutness, but it struck him as humorous that while most of the
time she appeared to be an exotic sorceress of a powerful snake
god, occasionally she seemed more like a sweet church girl. The
odd contrast amused him, but he only adored her more for it.
It wasn’t until dawn of the next day that they departed. They
planned a safe route over a fast one, having had their fill of
adventure and monsters for a while. They followed the trade routes
along unpaved trails that were blazed only by the weathering steps
of hoof and boot. The path was well-worn and easily trod, but the
terrain wasn’t always forgiving.
To steer clear of the wastes, they had to chart a rather indirect
route, but it was worth it in Billy’s mind, having little desire to tread
close to the tomb again anytime soon.
 Billy straightened as he remembered something. Abner, his
faithful steed, reacted beneath him, slowing his pace so that he
could get in step with the women who rode just behind him.
“I still have the cores,” he said.
Isandra’s eyes widened. With everything that had happened,
they agreed not to trifle with the cores until they got them back to
Turik for further inspection on hallowed ground that they could
control.
Still, she had occasionally regretted the decision. By all
appearances, the cores were purified, and if Billy had bonded with
them sooner, he likely would have been able to hunt the shades in a
fraction of the time. But if they had learned one lesson from that
sordid affair, it was the value of caution.
“Do you think I should, you know, try to absorb one? Just see
what happens?”
“The answer is still no,” Isandra said as she scowled at him. “If I
were going to relent so easily, I would have done it when lives were
on the line.”
Billy nodded. Still, now that he had recalled them, it was all he
could think about. The cores were his entire objective, weren’t they?
And he had three of them sitting in a satchel on his hip. Three cores
he could absorb at any moment, recently purified. They’d multiply the
number of cores he possessed by two!
That night, the allure of the cores tugged against him even
harder, and he felt his self-control slipping away. The temptation was
too great. There had been distractions back in the city, but out here
in the countryside, walking a relatively safe trail, he had nothing to
keep his mind off it. Even the idle banter and chatter between his
stunning companions wasn’t enough to temper his longing.
Without any distractions, as the women slept peacefully beside
him, he knew that he could get away with it. That night, he knew he
would succumb.
 Chapter 2

I t was Billy’s turn to stand watch while the ladies slumbered. He

couldn’t help but beam at the sight of the three of them sleeping
in peace under the stars. It was nice, in a way, to be back out on
the road after how taxing their time in Yarnesh turned out to be.
The young barbarian’s hand stirred inside the satchel at his
waist. He felt the power of the three orbs react to his touch. His
fingers glided over and caressed the cores as they rested against his
hip.
Billy’s head turned to see just how deeply the others were
sleeping. Kaya was snoring softly and spooning Audelia. The Zer-
Kali battle maiden’s bosom rose and fell perfectly synchronized with
the red-headed thief’s less endowed chest. Isandra, for her part,
slept soundly on her back, wrapped in a rough wool blanket, her
head turned slightly away from Billy.
Billy pulled one of the cores from the satchel and scrutinized it in
silence as it glowed seductively in his palm. He felt his breath
quicken as the core’s power seemed to vibrate against him. He
closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the core was
nowhere to be seen—because it was inside him.
The barbarian tied the satchel securely shut and sat cross-
legged in front of the yellow fire. It reminded him of his first time—the
day he received his ax. Even now, his mind raced as it imagined
what new manner of ability he might receive.
His eyes now closed, the barbarian drew inward, seeking the
new core, its unique signature of power calling to him, blazing like a
beacon. Its power was immense, and yet, as he unlocked it, he felt
nothing.
It wasn’t like his magic ax. The ax had appeared by his side
instantly upon finding the core’s power, replacing the woodchopping
ax he had carried before. He felt the power unlocked—he was
certain of it. And yet, there was nothing to access. What did it mean?
His mind went into panic mode, sobered now by anxiety and
confusion. Isandra would be livid. He already worked so hard to earn
her trust back after he stopped her purification ritual, even though he
still believed it was the right thing to do and wouldn’t take it back for
anything.
But this time Billy had messed up. He went behind her back,
against her wishes, and activated a core on his own. And worse, the
core wasn’t working as he thought—no, knew—it should.
It could mean any number of things. It could mean the core was
still corrupted somehow, like how a corrupted file on a computer
doesn’t run properly, even if all the data seems to be there at a
glance. It could also mean that its power is something he has to
discover on his own. It could also be, maybe, that there was no
power attached. Perhaps it was just a general boost in strength?
Under regular circumstances, he would have jumped right to
one of the more optimistic possibilities. Still, given the dubious
origins of the core, his mental state couldn’t help but land
somewhere south of sanguine.
“Now what?” he nigh-inaudibly muttered to himself, kicking a
stick into the fire in frustration. He could confess to Isandra, beg for
forgiveness, and ask for her advice and help. That was the smart
option, but Billy never claimed to be a man of dizzying intellect or
wisdom. He went for the other option.
“Guess I’ll keep it to myself.”
The remainder of their journey flew by, so preoccupied with
regret and worry was Billy that the two weeks of travel seemed like a
day. Many times the women had asked him what was bothering him,
and each time he lied, loathing his own cowardice more each time.
He kept count of the lies. Twelve.
The city gates of Turik were sweet to behold. This time they
walked through the gates with honor. Isandra was immediately
recognized, and a detachment of indentured city workers was
promptly fetched to escort them to the temple grounds.
Peons and servants carried gigantic straw mats with a triangular
shape attached to a simple wooden pole. They fanned Billy, Kaya,
Audelia, and especially Isandra as they walked beside their horses.
Billy cringed at the treatment but knew better than to question their
customs by now. He could make all the changes he wanted when he
was king.
The barbarian suddenly jerked up in surprise at his own hidden
ambition. That thought was new. Up until now, he had few
aspirations for political positions, but out of nowhere, he’d caught
himself entertaining fantasies of power. He had changed. He liked
the change. He grinned at it, inviting it.
They took a detour on their way to the temple—one that they all
were happy to take, in fact—to the home of Iskar. They dismounted
their horses, and the high priestess instructed the servants and
guards to remain outside.
Isandra knocked against the door in a peculiar rhythm. Two
short knocks, one hard knock with a long pause, followed by three
more short knocks. Billy and Kaya smirked at each other as they
heard glass hitting the floor from inside as the gentle apothecary
rushed to the door to greet his sister.
The door threw open, and Iskar was there, grinning like a
brazen fool. He threw his arms around Isandra, and the two
embraced as brothers and sisters do. Still, Billy thought it must feel
awkward hugging your sister when she was as close to naked as
Isandra always seemed to be.
“How’s my favorite baby sister?” Iskar asked, finally pulling away
from her but still holding onto her shoulders.
“Busy,” she said. “And truly, Iskar, you have no idea what we’ve
been up to.”
He looked at the servants waiting behind them. “I’d invite you in,
but it looks like you’ve got folks waiting for you,” he said.
 “Actually,” she said, “How busy are you? Would you like to come
with us to the temple?”
He scratched his head, “Well, I was just cleaning up, really, but
give me a minute, and I—”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “You’ll be moving into the
temple effective immediately. My attendees will take your things.”
His face wore plain confusion. “Isandra, what game is this?”
She shook her head, smiling warmly. “No game,” she said. “Not
this time. You are hereby acting as High Priest in my stead.”
The apothecary’s eyes widened in a look that showed far too
many emotions to list or name, but both fear and happiness were
among them. “How? Why?” he stammered.
“My first duty is to the Chosen,” she explained. “Amar’nak saw
fit to make me the heavenly concubine of his selected champion. We
are well on our way to ascension, brother.” Billy looked at her face as
she spoke that last sentence. She believed it, he noted.
“Incredible!” he shouted. And then a look washed over his face
as he connected some dots Billy wished he didn’t bother to piece
together. “Wait, so you… and he…”
“Do not trouble yourself with the mechanics of it,” Isandra
giggled, pulling her brother’s arms from her shoulders at last and
clasping his palms tightly in hers. “This is only the greatest of news.
You were handpicked as my successor by the First Apostle himself.”
Once again, Iskar’s face dropped in shock. This time, he failed
to speak outright, getting Billy, Kaya, and Audelia all to laugh
adoringly at his expense.
Isandra turned to her entourage. “Follow this man’s instructions
to the letter, for within hours, his word shall supersede my own in the
eyes Amar’nak and the First Apostle, our Holy Father.” She smirked
and turned her head back to her brother. “At least when it comes to
this city.” Her dear brother still failed to speak as he processed the
sight of servants coming into his residence to move all his
belongings to the temple.
 Finally, after far too long, Iskar managed to say something. “I
still want to do my apothecary work,” he said. “These people still
need a healer.”
“Then do it,” Isandra said flatly. “Your word is paramount to law.”
“And I want—”
“Iskar, stop,” she smiled, her hand on his shoulder. “You shall
have it. Now go inside and tell my people what to do. They’re your
people from now on.”
Billy leaned in as Iskar finally walked inside. “So where are we
going to live if your brother is taking up residence in your old room?”
Isandra smiled. “Oh, there may be a hut or two in the temple
district we could occupy,” she said. “Us and a few loyal servants, of
course.”
As it turned out, the hut she referred to was a two-level estate,
made of the same snow-white building material that the temple was
constructed with, though it had been allowed to wear and tan with
age more than the temple had. It was easily the largest house Billy
had seen in the city.
“This is a lodging usually reserved for honored guests,” Isandra
explained, “But it hasn’t been used for that purpose in years. It’s
been rotting here, costing precious silver to maintain month after
month with no one here to make use of it.” She winked at her
companions with a greedy grin, “Until now.”
“So this is our home base, huh?” Billy said as he stepped
through the threshold. The interior was gorgeously well furnished
compared to every other place he’d visited in this town, save for the
temple itself. Lavish fur rugs adorned the floor of every room. Heads
of magnificent beasts were mounted on the walls. Fine weapons
hung on plaques and racks, and strong couches, chairs, and tables
woven from reed and thick straw decorated every room. A cozy
hearth sat only several feet from a sizeable wool-stuffed bed in the
master bedroom. Billy sighed contentedly at the sight. “I think I could
get used to this.”
 “When we’re in Turik, it’s ours,” Isandra said. “But we won’t
always be here.”
Kaya and Audelia had already stripped off their clothes and laid
face-down on the bed. Billy’s cheeks reddened, embarrassed for
them as there were servants in the room, too, though they were
women and didn’t really focus on the perfect bodies of Billy’s
companions, instead keeping their eyes fixed on Isandra and her
assessing facial expression at all times as she sized up each part of
the house.
“Sooo warm,” Kaya said, her voice muffled by the fur bed
covering. Her round rump was visible atop the sheets. Billy almost
drooled at it.
“Let’s sleep for a week,” Audelia moaned into the pillow as her
feet kicked up behind her excitedly.
“There will be time for rest when Billy ascends,” Isandra said,
causing her three companions to groan.
“We can take a day or two, though, right?” Billy pleaded,
wrapping his arms around Isandra’s waist and nibbling her ear.
The high priestess shivered with pleasure as her forked tongue
flicked against the barbarian’s neck. “One day,” she said. “And then
we discuss next steps.”
“One day is enough,” Billy said, kissing the high priestess’s
platinum blonde hair as he gazed into her red and gold serpentine
eyes.
“Nooo it’s nooot!” Kaya whined, her tight butt jiggling as her
naked form flailed in complaint against the comfortable furs.
Within minutes of unpacking what few belongings they had and
dismissing their servants to their various tasks, Kaya, Billy, and
Audelia had fallen asleep. Isandra, however, took her time in getting
to bed. She had been away for too long and had been forced to
abandon many of her evening rituals.
She slid her vestments off of her breasts and hips and lay nude
in a wicker lounge chair as she dabbed a wet cloth across her body.
The erotically endowed high priestess shivered as the cold cloth
glanced across her nipples.
It was vaguely unpleasant, but the sharp sensation on her
erogenous zone awoke a desire within her that she’d fought back for
many days now. Her head turned to see her beloved Chosen, but as
she already knew, he was fast asleep. His slumber was well-earned,
so disturbing him was out of the question.
She would have to make do on her own.
She released the rag, and it made a splash against the cool
earthy floor. Her left hand found the side of her neck and scratched
against it lightly as she studied the perfect body of the barbarian who
slept in the corner. Slowly, her hand crept downward until it found her
soft, heavy breast, which she fondled with hunger as her index finger
swirled around her own areola.
The fingertips of her other hand, meanwhile, brushed and
grazed against her flat stomach as she arched her back and opened
her thighs. Her hand lowered, practically on its own, scraping gently
down her stomach into her pubic region. It tickled past her hairless
mons and her religious snake tattoo, ultimately finding its home
when two fingers pressed together against her dampening slit.
She moaned. “Billy,” she uttered by accident, and then her eyes
flashed open, worried that she might have been heard. The redhead,
the warrior woman—both still asleep. Kaya’s soft snores were
audible from where Isandra lay.
Then she looked at Billy. He lay beside Kaya, half his body
falling off the crowded bed, but he was also asleep. She breathed a
sigh of relief and smiled to herself as she noticed her dampness had
increased as a side-effect of the jolt.
Her eyes stayed fixed on Billy, who also slept naked. His
manhood faced her from where her head was turned, and she drank
in the sight voraciously as her fingertips stroked the folds of her wet
sex. She moaned again, softly this time, and such was her arousal at
this point that she saw no need to tease herself any longer.
 Her left hand sharply pinched her nipple, and the two
adventurous fingers on her right hand plunged into her tunnel. Then,
fast and with fervor, she thrust in and out of herself lewdly as her
pussy made rich squelching sounds that filled the cavernous hall
with erotic echoes. At this point, she didn’t care if the others awoke—
she welcomed it. Let them watch her writhe in ecstasy. They’d seen
it before, after all.
And then it happened. Her knees locked, and her toes curled.
Her abdomen twitched as the inner walls of her sex throbbed and
gushed against her thrusting fingers. The high priestess stifled her
moans as best as she could, but at the grand finish, she practically
screamed. She clasped her mouth in horror at the shameful
loudness of the sound, but she couldn’t help herself. She noisily
mewled into her own palm as her hips bucked and juices seeped
from her entrance.
Squealing breathily, she slowly recovered from her orgasm, her
body melting into her seat. She picked up the cloth and cleaned
herself once more.
She threw a wool blanket over her shoulders, large enough to
cover her whole body, and she sat by the hearth, seeing no room on
the bed. She had little mood for sleep, anyway. Part of her held onto
hope that Billy would awake and give her the proper thrashing she
longed for. Isandra sighed, and her eyes drifted toward the window,
where she saw a horrifying face peering in at her.
The face was scarred and charred, pinkish in parts, but mostly
blackened or browned by burnt tissue and scorch marks beyond
healing. A few loose strands of ratty hair dangled in front of two
empty eye sockets that still seemed to peer into her soul with a
penetrating gaze.
A horrible grin was permanently burned into the monstrous face,
a picture of living death. The mouth hung open, unhinged from the
jaw. At the sight, Isandra’s mouth also hung open as she screamed
in surprise.
 The sound awakened everyone. Billy, Kaya, and Audelia were
up in a flash, but armed servants also rushed into the room with
haste.
“What happened?” Billy said, grabbing her by the shoulders.
“I saw a strange, horrific face,” she said.
“Someone was watching us?” Billy asked.
“This was no human. It was… beyond ugliness. Unspeakably
hideous would only begin to describe it.”
Servants and guards ran out to investigate, and Billy followed
with them. Kaya and Audelia stayed behind to watch and console
Isandra, but she insisted she was fine, only startled.
Nothing was uncovered in the search, so all returned to bed.
However, it wasn’t until the morning that anyone realized that one
servant never returned.
 Chapter 3

T he induction and ordination ceremony for Iskar was a rather

busy affair. It began with criers running through the city's
streets from dawn until noon, announcing the change in
rulership for Turik.
Commoners reacted in the road in various ways—outrage,
surprise, and many greeted the news rather lukewarmly. However,
Iskar was well-liked and well-known in his own district, so to many
people, this was great news indeed and a well-deserved honor for a
man of tremendous faith and good breeding.
The crowd assembled in the square outside the temple. Over a
thousand people, primarily curious commoners, were in attendance.
The sun beat down oppressively onto the throng of onlookers, and
they fanned themselves and their children with dried palm leaves
that the priests and acolytes in attendance distributed.
Isandra looked like a goddess as she stood before the huddling
masses. “Iskar is a beloved servant of this city, and I am privileged to
call him brother. He has been a dedicated apothecary and servant of
the temple for his entire adult life, and few can say they have lived as
selflessly as he,” she said. “But it was not at my behest that he be
ordained and officiated as the Acting High Priest in my absence,”
she explained with a cocky smirk as the self-righteous elites
squirmed in the front of the crowd. “The First Apostle himself
decreed it, and by his holy writ, this ceremony commences today.”
Billy gathered that a great deal of bitter politics was side-
stepped once it was made clear that the First Apostle himself had
given Iskar his full support and backing. Many nobles and ranking
members of the temple community grumbled and plotted quietly
when the news first broke, but their indignance was seemingly
defused once they were at the ceremony and heard Isandra speak.
 Billy towered over most people in the crowd, so he could see the
mixed reactions of the masses. At the mention of the First Apostle,
the peasants were clearly placated, and the grumbling elites were
silenced. The transition seemed to be going smoothly enough.
The rest of the ceremony went by at a snail’s crawl, as dull as
any church service Billy had experienced back home. He was
stronger now and able to run for hours, even days if necessary, but
he still felt tired standing in that crowd for three hours as the priests
recited prayer after prayer while those less educated just listened
and prattled on whatever they could remember. But there was one
highlight to the ceremony that held the barbarian’s attention—when
Iskar received his cobra.
“I can’t see!” Kaya grumbled, tugging on his arm. “Put me on
your shoulders.”
“I’m not sure that’s appropriate for this sort of event,” Billy said,
looking around for any sign of anyone doing something similar. A
couple of children, but certainly no sexy redheads or half-naked
warrior women sat atop the shoulders of any men in the sea of
worshipers that surrounded them.
After the ceremony had ended, an acolyte found them and
brought them into the temple where they ate a feast in celebration of
the grand occasion.
Many of those grumbling priests and nobles were present, but
none dared protest now. They all sycophantically applauded and
fawned over their new Acting High Priest, but Billy could still
practically smell their jealousy. He knew Isandra sensed it, too, as
she cast nervous glances at a few of the holy men throughout the
evening, but little came of her fears.
At the end of the festivities, they had returned at last to their
luxurious domicile. They all sat around the hearth as it crackled and
cast a warm glow into the room, illuminating them all in a flickering
orange radiance that reminded Billy of their nights by the campfire on
their travels.
 “Billy,” Isandra whispered after they’d consumed two bottles of
wine and entangled themselves intimately on the bearskin rug,
“Maybe it’s time you absorb those cores.”
Billy tensed. The three women immediately noticed his
apprehensive reaction, as it was impossible not to see or feel even
the slightest spasm of his enormous muscles when they were
pressed so close.
“What’s wrong?” Kaya asked curiously.
Isandra’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t, Billy.”
He grinned innocently at her and shrugged.
She sighed. “Very well, then. Tell me what happened.”
Billy sat up, and the women followed his lead. He scratched his
temple as he tried to find the words. “I really couldn’t wait,” he
started. “On the road, I just felt them calling to me. So I thought I’d
absorb just one and do the rest with you later.”
“And?” Isandra said, raising her eyebrow in skepticism.
“And I did only absorb one.” He paused, mid-breath.
“And?” the high priestess repeated, sensing that wasn’t the end
of the tale.
Billy sighed. “And nothing happened. I can’t activate the power. I
know I absorbed the core correctly, and I found it inside of me and
tried to use it, but nothing happened. I’m—I’m sorry. I know I should
have told you.”
Audelia sighed loudly and rolled her eyes as she batted her
lashes against Billy’s shoulder, kissing it despite her irritation with
him. “Who knew that being a heavenly concubine would be so much
like supervising my sister’s child.” Kaya giggled in reply, but
Isandra’s expression remained sternly unaltered.
“I see,” she said. “I may be able to help, my love. If you’ll let
me.”
Billy nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, whatever you want.”
 She sat in Billy’s lap, straddling him, reminding them both of
their first intimate encounter together back in the temple that was
now a stone’s throw away from their home. A bead of sweat dripped
down Billy’s brow, and Isandra licked it playfully with her long forked
tongue as she grinned her sharp smile back at him. Kaya tossed a
jealous glare at the high priestess but said nothing, seeing fit to
settle for pouting in the corner.
Isandra lifted her hands from Bily’s waist and rested them with
her palms against his ears and temples. Her snake-like eyes rolled
back in her head. At first, Billy didn’t know what to do, but within a
matter of seconds, his body had taken over, and he found his own
eyes rolling back as he felt the spirit of Isandra probing within him.
He began twitching. “Hold him down, Kaya, Audelia!” she said,
trying to maintain focus.
The two other women pressed their bodies tightly against Billy
and wrapped their arms around him, attempting to keep him in place,
but he was immensely strong, and it was an uphill battle to say the
least.
At last, Isandra felt the presence of the four cores that Billy had
absorbed thus far. Among them, one had a distinctly unique aura—
unique in a disturbing way.
With a harsh gasp, her eyes returned to normal, and she
watched as Billy stopped quaking, his eyes closing and his body
releasing much of its tension. She leaned forward and planted a soft
kiss on his lips, rousing him back to consciousness. His grip found
her, and his hands slid up her thigh with purpose.
Kaya swatted his hand. “Ouch!” he said. “Why?!”
“Stay focused,” Kaya said. “Isandra, what did you find?”
She shook off her sudden arousal. “The core is inside him, as
he claims, but there is something wrong with it.”
“It’s cursed,” Billy stated, self-assured at the conclusion.
“No,” she said. “It’s malignant. There is a difference.”
 “And what would that difference be?” Audelia asked, still
clutching Billy as though it were still necessary to hold him down. In
truth, she only sought to maintain physical contact for as long as she
could. The three of them were always looking for excuses to touch
him, and Audelia wasn’t about to relinquish hers.
“A cursed or corrupted core cannot be absorbed at all. It is
functionally useless. This core isn’t cursed—it’s just evil,” she said.
Billy gulped. “That sounds bad.”
“It isn’t good,” she agreed. “But there is no easy way to extract
it. It wants to be inside you,” she said.
“So it’s just an evil core that wants to take up space in me? It
doesn’t do anything?”
The high priestess shook her head as she stood up. “No, that is
not the case either. It has power, like any other, but it will only react if
darkness has taken over you,” she said. “Hopefully, that day never
comes.”
“Like any other core, does it at least make us all stronger?”
“I believe it does, yes,” she said, nodding. “With each core Billy
absorbs, we continue to become incrementally more divine. The
firmer our bond is with Billy and each other, the more powerful we
are, and the cores only deepen our reservoirs of power, but they can
empty.”
“But getting sexy with me refills them, right?”
Isandra smirked. “That is correct.”
“What of the other two cores?” Audelia asked. “Should he
absorb them? Or is it risky?”
“I see no reason why he shouldn’t,” Isandra said. “But I will
check them myself first, if I have the Chosen’s permission.”
Billy smiled and nodded, bowing his head courteously. “By all
means, my lady,” he said. Isandra giggled mirthfully in reply as her
hand hovered over her lips.
 Billy pulled the satchel from his hip and opened the bag up. The
cores glimmered in front of them, and they all gaped in wonder at the
sight. He plucked one from the little bag and handed it over to the
high priestess who waited, eyes wide, to receive it.
As the orb rested in her palm, she closed her eyes and withdrew
into herself. After several long minutes, she felt the power of the core
surge in her hand, its unique signature no different from the first
three orbs that Billy had absorbed.
“This one is normal,” she said.
Trading that core for the remaining one, she repeated the
process. Again, she discovered nothing unusual, cursed, or
malignant about the core she held in her hand. Only one in three
was evil—a relief, to be sure. This also meant that Billy would gain
new powers or weapons from these orbs once he’d absorbed them.
The prospect excited her, prickling her skin with goosebumps that
danced in anticipation.
“This one is safe, too, my love,” she said. “I suggest you absorb
them now.”
“What if I’m not strong enough to handle two new cores in one
night?” Billy said.
Kaya purred at that. “Then we can help you recharge,” she said.
“I don’t think it works like that,” Billy said, shaking his head. “I
think I gain the power to unlock more orbs inside of me by fighting
more. The, uh, sexy-time only refills my energy and makes me able
to burn through more power. It doesn’t actually make me stronger.”
Isandra nodded thoughtfully. “That is partially correct. It can aid
in making it easier to absorb cores, but sex will not necessarily
hasten your ability to unlock the cores’ powers. But you have battled
much. I’m certain you can absorb the cores now, and unlock their
powers later if needed. I believe that should work. In any case, it’s
safer than carrying them around.” She paused to think, letting her
lust for progress get the better of her. “Perhaps try absorbing both at
the same time, too. It may increase your odds of being able to
handle both in one night.”
The barbarian nodded obediently. It was true that it always
seemed difficult to deal with more than one core’s assimilation at
once. He reached out and took the final core back from Isandra. He
pivoted from where he sat to face the burning flames in the hearth.
Kaya and Audelia backed up, unsure if they should be touching him
when he completed his task.
Billy held one core in each hand, gripping them tightly. He felt
each core sinking into his skin and power surging through his veins.
His body bulged with new muscles, even more imposing than before.
The three women watched in awe as he glowed, and his eyes shot
beams of light into the air, illuminating the entire room as though it
were daytime. Billy remained placid and silent even as the girls
squealed and quaked at the intense reaction.
And then all was silent. Billy’s hands closed, and his body
returned to normal, though there was a layer of sweat on him now
that cast an even sheen across his body, making his muscles seem
to dance with the reflected light of the fire.
“Billy?” Audelia said, inching forward.
Her barbarian did not respond, causing all three women to
cringe in fear that something had gone wrong.
“Baby?” Kaya called out. Her hand fell upon his shoulder. It was
deathly cold. “He’s freezing,” she said. “Isandra, what’s wrong? You
said he would be fine!”
Isandra’s eyes were glazed wide open with fear. She knelt
beside Billy and shook him. Gods, he was cold. He was stiff. His
eyes wouldn’t open. She shook him, but he barely wavered. “My
love?!” she cried out, “My Chosen!”
Finally, there was a reaction, but it wasn’t the one they hoped
for. Billy’s body went from freezing cold and stiff to feverishly hot and
limp. He fell backward onto the floor with a loud thud that shook the
floor beneath him, and his eyes opened up, unfocused, and rolled
back halfway into his eyelids.
“What did you do, you bitch!?” Kaya shouted shrilly at the high
priestess, tears already streaming down her face. “You killed him!”
“No,” Isandra moaned. “No, no, no. No, it’s not happening. It
isn’t possible. They were safe!”
Audelia picked up Billy’s head and placed it on her lap. Her eyes
were wide, and her muscles tense, but she was trying to be the level
head. She put her hand over Billy’s mouth. There was a wave of
heat escaping his lips. “He’s breathing, you idiots,” she whispered
harshly. “But just barely.”
“Kaina!” Isandra shouted the name of a slave. A young woman
with brown hair and freckles jogged into the room, gasping at what
she saw.
“Yes, my lady?” she said, hand to mouth.
“Bring water, and have Marek fetch my brother immediately!
Make haste or die slowly!”
Kaina sprinted out of the room and could be heard barking
urgent orders to the other servants. Within a minute, she’d returned
with a bucket of cool water, a rag, and a small bowl.
“Marek is already halfway to the temple. He bears your talisman
and will bring your brother back as soon as he can come, my lady,”
she said. “What would you have me do with the water?”
“Give it to me,” Isandra groaned impatiently, holding out her
hands.
She went through the motions of trying to provide aid to Billy.
She tried to help him drink, but he spit up the water. She wiped his
face down, hoping to cool him, but his skin still was hot to the touch.
She was no apothecary, and if Billy died before her brother
arrived, she’d never forgive herself for not listening to his pleas to
learn the craft herself.
 After ten minutes that seemed like ten hours, Iskar charged
through the door. “What happened!?” he shouted, opening up a bag
full of herbs, bandages, potions, and other remedies. “Quick, spit it
out! Someone!”
“He absorbed the cores, but then he got really cold, and he
wouldn’t budge, but then he got super hot, and he fell over, and now
he—he—” Kaya sobbed noisily as she tried to explain, tears and
snot streaming down her pretty face.
Audelia remained silent, so deep in her thoughts that she
couldn’t speak, even if she wanted to.
Isandra, for her part, was frantic with fear and guilt, blaming
herself for what had happened.
“Right, so it’s some magic nonsense,” Iskar sighed with a grimly
resigned nod as he pulled a thin pair of leather gloves on. “Then
most of the things in my bag will do us no good, but there is one
procedure I can try.”
“Anything,” Isandra pleaded in hoarse desperation.
“Well, I’m glad you said that,” Iskar replied solemnly. “Because
I’m going to have to cut him open.”
 Chapter 4

“I’m going to need the three of you to leave the room,” Iskar said as
he pulled several sharp instruments from his bag. “Someone who
doesn’t know him, someone who isn’t squeamish, ideally, will stay
behind.”
“Absolutely not, I stay here,” Isandra insisted, staring down her
brother, but he didn’t bother to return her gaze. At this moment,
under these circumstances, her emotional demands were nothing he
hadn't heard before from the family members of other patients.
“You’d only be a distraction,” he said. “I can’t have you sobbing
over my shoulder while I work. You need to leave. Take the other
girls and go, now.”
“Damn you, I—”
“You know I’m right,” he said sternly, finally meeting her eyes.
“Go.”
Isandra flashed him a look that could likely kill lesser men, but
Iskar was busy drawing lines in Billy’s chest with a piece of ashy
chalk and didn’t turn to see it. As her brother, those looks did little to
inspire fear in him anyway. He’d seen them far too many times to
count.
She stood up and helped the other two girls to their feet, and
they headed toward the door, each stealing several pained looks
back as Iskar cleaned and sharpened his bronze surgical tools.
A woman from the cooking staff named Marina was sent into the
room with him. Iskar looked up as he heard the pitter-patter of the
woman’s bare feet entering the room.
“Right,” he said, nodding. “Can you handle yourself around
blood and guts?”
 “Dad’s a butcher, sir,” she said. “I’ve seen my fair share of
slaughters and innards. I’ll be fine,”
“Good girl,” Iskar replied with a curt nod. “Time to work. There’s
a red bottle in my bag. Get it and dab some liquid from it on the cloth
next to him.”
She did as he said, dampening the cloth with the strangely
odorous fluid.
“Rest it over his mouth and nose for five seconds and no
longer,” he said. Again, she followed his instructions. “Now slap him
twice, hard as you can.”
She blinked in surprise.
“Do it, girl!”
Marina slapped the barbarian twice in the face. He didn’t budge
or react in the least.
“Good. We should be alright, then,” he said. “Now, Marina, if I do
a good job, there won’t be all that much bleeding. Just in case things
get ugly or messy, though, I need you to hold his shoulders down
with all your body weight.”
Marina was already succumbing to her nerves. She pressed
hard against the barbarian’s shoulders, but she was shaking.
“Get it together, girl,” Iskar said calmly. “My sister will make a
eunuch of me if we mess this up.” He slipped a little bit of humor into
his tone, hoping to release some of the poor servant’s nerves. It
seemed to work. She flashed him a weak smile, and her shaking
subsided.
“I’m going to make a series of incisions in his chest. We’re going
to open up his ribcage. He has an affliction related to an
overpowering level of magic or divine energy trying to make a home
in his body, but he isn’t ready for it, not on his own. I’ve seen it
before. I dealt with it then, and I can deal with it now. So stay calm,
and just look at me if looking down gets to be too much for you.”
Marina just nodded, her wild eyes staring straight at the
apothecary. She had no intention of ever looking down if she could
avoid it.
Iskar started making his incisions. Each cut was cleanly
executed, and there was no unexpected bleeding—a great start.
Within five minutes he was staring at the barbarian’s enormous
heart.
“There it is,” he said. “Magic that is housed in the body of a
person or beast makes its home in the heart, girl. What’s your
name?”
“Marina,” she said, staring into his eyes, still refusing to look
down.
“Marina, you’re doing great. And so is he. His heart is beating
normally, which is a fantastic sign,” he said. “But he needs our help.
At the top of my bag, there’s a blue vial with a silver ribbon around it.
Take it out and dump the contents onto his heart.”
Marina nodded and reached with one hand toward the bag,
pulling it closer to her. She deftly found the blue vial and poured it
onto the barbarian’s heart. It horrified her. She had to look down at it,
but she was glad she did.
“Looks just like a cow’s heart,” she said, grinning despite
herself. “It’s not so bad.”
Iskar smirked. “No, it isn’t. And you’re doing great. But now
comes the hard part.”
Marina gulped. “What’s that?”
“The part that I hate, Marina. Lean forward for me, please.”
The servant girl obeyed unflinchingly, her head hovering over
the barbarian’s chest, within arm’s reach of Iskar now.
“I suggest you close your eyes for this bit,” he said.
Again, she obeyed. Suddenly she felt one of Iskar’s gentle
hands grab her by her hair bun, and a sharpness sliced against her
throat. Her eyes opened to see Iskar frowning at her, holding her
head over the barbarian’s heart as her open jugular poured its
contents out into his chest cavity, covering his heart with her
essence. She couldn’t speak a question, instead just gaping.
Iskar gently lay her down on the dry stone floor when her
bleeding stopped. “Rituals of this magnitude always require a blood
sacrifice, Marina. Now, you will live on as a part of his story.
Whatever he achieves, he does it because of your gift today.”
He sighed and fought back tears as he watched the life leave
her eyes. He scarcely believed his own evil words, but this was for
the greater good—and more importantly, for his sister.
Iskar turned his attention back to the barbarian in front of him.
His hands hovered over the enormous heart, and he began chanting
words of power. Then, in cascading waves of light that emanated
from the barbarian’s heart and lit up his veins like tendrils of lightning
in a stormy sky, the power surged and spread, now fully absorbed by
the outlander. He would survive—but at a terrible cost.
Normally Iskar wouldn’t consider human sacrifices for healing
purposes. He wasn’t squeamish, but he worked hard to be known as
a healer, not a killer. He stole another glance at Marina as she lay
dead on the floor beside him, growing paler by the second. The poor
girl.
But this situation was different. It was a family matter and an
affair of chief interest to his own god. He couldn’t spend his first night
as Acting High Priest letting the Chosen of Amar’nak die in his
weeping sister’s arms. The shame would be unthinkable. And he
hated to see her cry.
He skillfully stitched up the barbarian’s muscular chest. Even
with whatever regenerative powers he likely possessed after having
absorbed so many cores, the surgery was likely to leave a scar that
would linger for many years. Still, it was far preferable to a death that
would be mourned for many more.
Iskar sighed with relief when he saw the barbarian begin to stir.
He leaned back on his palms and threw his head up, closing his
eyes. He wanted to call out for his sister, to let her know that his task
was done.
 Instead, he cried softly as he stroked the cheek of the poor
servant that lay motionless beside him. He was a killer again. Iskar
the Killer. At least this time, he had had no choice—the choice was
taken from him.
He set the barbarian’s head on a folded wool blanket, elevating
it for easier respiration. It hadn’t needed to be done when they were
resting on Marina’s knees, but now he had to make additional
adjustments for the barbarian’s comfort.
He stood and walked with heavy strides toward the door, holding
the corpse of the servant, his face gloomy with guilt.
“Isandra,” he said. “It’s done. See to it that the girl receives a
worthy funeral and that her family is taken care of.”
The high priestess’s eyes widened as the other servants looked
on in horror. “Of course, Iskar. Thank you. And… oh, poor Marina,”
she sobbed. “She didn’t deserve this.” A tear fell from her eyes as
her hand brushed the girl’s cold cheek.
“Is he alright?” Kaya asked, brushing off the dead girl with a
single sad expression, trying to steal a look past Iskar into the room
beyond.
“He is slowly awakening as we speak, but he cannot be allowed
to walk around or move much on his own until I can remove his
stitches,” he said as a young guard came and took Marina’s body
from him. “The thing is, I have no idea how long that will take. I
suspect he will heal much faster than a typical person, but it’s hard to
say. I will visit him twice a day—each morning and each evening.”
“We will dote on him with the gentlest of affections,” Audelia
promised.
“I’ll tie him down if I have to,” Kaya nodded. “Can we see him?”
Iskar nodded and smiled faintly, finally taking off the gloves that
had made his hands clammy and warm. “I think you should. Or
rather, I think it’d be good for him to see you. I don’t want him to be
alone when he awakes.”
 They walked into the room, hoping to see Billy stirring awake,
but what unholy sight greeted them was about as far from what
they’d expected as things could possibly be—and much, much
worse.
 Chapter 5

T he four of them stopped at the door with a shock. Crouched

next to Billy on the ground was the ugliest thing any of them
had ever seen.
A gangly naked creature resembling a cruel mockery of a man
stroked the barbarian’s face, cackling madly. His body was charred
and skeletal in appearance—it bore no eyes in its burnt sockets, and
though it looked like a picture of death, it was evidently spry and
quick. Its head twitched, fixing on them as they stood at the door,
unsure of what to do.
“I recognize you…” the voice rasped, gurgling and low. “All of
you, but for different reasons. We all have tales to share.” The thing
coughed and laughed coldly as they all froze in horror.
It wasn’t that they couldn’t take him on—Isandra, Audelia, and
Kaya were all equally certain that this thing was no threat to them,
but in this moment, it could quickly end Billy’s life in one move. Sure
enough, as if to add to its threat, the wretched creature picked up
one of Iskar’s tools.
“Stop,” Iskar said firmly. “Put that down. I don’t know what you
are, but we are not your enemy tonight.”
A dry cackle left the hanging jaw of the creature. “Not my
enemy?” he asked mockingly. “Oh, I have no enemies but you,” he
said. “The only one I don’t have a bone to pick with is you,” the
creature said, pointing at Isandra.
Audelia shivered as her eyes flashed a look of horrified
recognition. “Grint?” she asked cautiously.
“Aye,” the voice said, no longer laughing. “Grint the Deathless,
at your service.” Kaya gasped audibly. She was unconscious when
everything happened between Billy, Audelia, and Grint, but she knew
the story. “You carved me into a dozen pieces and threw me into the
fire. It took me weeks to put myself back together, and it’ll take me
much longer to look human again. But I’m glad you did it,” he said.
They stared at him in unblinking horror, their fingers stirring to
clutch something, to do something—but there was nothing to do.
“Because now I know, and you know, nothing will ever stop me.
Nothing can kill me. I can escape any fate, no matter how
unpleasant, and even if you all live a thousand years, I will find you
at your weakest, most vulnerable moment and make you suffer,” he
growled at them raspily.
“Please,” Kaya sobbed, her fists clenched against her thighs.
“Don’t hurt him.”
Grint laughed. “I’m going to hurt him,” he said, “But I won’t kill
him. Not today. It would be too easy. I want him to watch me kill each
and every one of you first. And then, when he’s at his lowest point…
that’s when I’ll kill him. That’s when I’ll—”
Billy’s hand shot up, clasped around Grint’s fragile throat. He
squeezed as hard as he could, and Grint’s head came off, but it
didn’t bleed. The head kept laughing, though there were no
vocalizations, just a terrible hissing, rattling sound.
Audelia charged forward, kicking the head hard against the wall.
The body, though, shot up with surprising agility, even without the
head. It did a cartwheel into the corner, picked up its head, jumped
onto the windowsill, and hurled the surgical tool at Audelia, nailing
her cleanly in the shoulder.
The monster placed its head back onto its neck with distressing
ease. “It could’ve been a kill. That would’ve been so sweet. Perhaps
for next time, I’ll practice my throwing skills,” he said with another evil
cackle, and he ducked out the window into the twilit city streets.
“Like hell, he will,” Isandra growled. Kaya and the high priestess
both leaped out the window, looking for a sign, any sign, of the mad
stalker, but he was gone. No tracks, nothing. Meanwhile, Iskar
Another random document with
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francziára fordítá a beszédet. Ebből ugyan Radnóthy alig értett
valamit, de elég volt szegény fejének a hang is.
– Hallgasson édes papa, hallgasson, ne boszantsa a jó
nagynénit. Nem látja, hogy elájult? Szegény nagynéni, kedves
nagynéni! – szólott közbe Erzsi, szemrehányón tekintve atyjára s
kifejtőzve karjai közül, hogy az ezredesné ápolására siessen.
– Hát a gyermek leczkézi az apát? Hát ezt tanultad te Bécsben,
erre tanított a te jó nagynénéd? Ezért küldöttem én neked azt a sok
pénzt? Ezért jöttél haza? Te, te, te!… – kiáltá Radnóthy fölugorva
székéről s még tovább is beszél, ha vigyázatlanságból az ezredesné
kis fekete kutyájára nem lép, a mely oly csunyán kezdett ugatni reá,
hogy kénytelen volt egész erejét az új ellenség ellen fordítani.
– Jaj, gyilkos, megöli az én kedves Figarómat – sikoltá az
ezredesné.
– Papa, az Istenért, ne rugdalja szegény Figarót! – esengett Erzsi
sírva.
– Ember, mit csinálsz? – ismétlé nagy páthoszszal az ezredesné.
– Megbolondulok! – fuldoklott Radnóthy.
A kis haszontalan kutya még élesebben ugatott, még jobban
harapdálta Radnóthy lábát, a ki egész dühbe jött. Az ezredesné
három nyelven sikoltozott, németül a kutyához, francziául Erzsihez,
magyarul Radnóthyhoz. Erzsi folyvást pattogott és sírt. István és az
ezredesné cselédei ijedve rohantak be s velök együtt Maros, a házi
komondor, a mely pártul fogta gazdáját s majdnem szétszaggatta
Figarót. Valóságos pokoli lárma keletkezett, a melyben senki sem
tudott szóhoz jutni s mindenik kapott legalább egy oldaldöfést.
 V.

E jelenet csak kezdete volt a többinek. Az udvarház csendes

szobái örökös viszály színhelyeivé váltak. Radnóthy most már
idegenebb lőn otthon, mint volt csak azelőtt is. Többször jutott
eszébe neje, midőn az ezredesné ült az asztalfőn, többször búsult
leánya után, mióta Elisabethet – a hogy’ az ezredesné nevezte
Erzsit – komédiásnő ruhákban látta maga előtt, többször
boszankodott a világ fölfordulásán, a mióta sógorasszonya a régi
rend maradványait is föl akarta forgatni házában. Most már nemcsak
a kertészszel, jegyzővel, tisztviselőkkel kelle pörölnie, hanem két
nővel s egy kis kutyával is.
Az első találkozás keserűsége oly erős benyomást tett
mindhármukra, hogy nem tudtak menekülni tőle. Folyvást ingerelték
egymást önkénytelen, akaratjok ellenére is. Az ezredesné azért
utazott Erdélybe, hogy rávegye Radnóthyt Erzsi férjhez adására
Kahlenberger kapitányhoz, a ki ugyan még forma szerint nem kérte
meg, de elég érthetőleg nyilatkozott, s csak a cautió letétele okoz
egy kis nehézséget, a melyet Radnóthynak kellene lefizetni. S im
utazása czélját sehogy sem képes előhozni, mert bármiről beszél
Radnóthynak, veszekedés a vége, a mi igen rossz bevezetés ily
kényes természetű ügyhöz. Nénje utasítása szerint Erzsi is föltette
magában, hogy kedvében jár atyjának, de ha csak rá tekintett is
haragos arczára, már elhagyta bátorsága, arra az áldozatra pedig
épen nem tudta elszánni magát, hogy máskép öltözködjék,
fölhagyjon a német csevegéssel s ne fogja nénje pártját. Maga
Radnóthy is szeretett volna kibékülni velök, de mihelyt körükbe
lépett, már kész volt a boszúság. Az ezredesné mindent fitymált,
kivált a szobákat, bútorokat, ételeket, pedig a házi gazda költségbe
verte magát, hogy sógornője és leánya kényelmesebben
lakhassanak, a gazdasszony pedig ugyancsak kitett magáért. Az
ezredesnének senki sem tudott főzni, mosni; untalan Bécset
emlegette, lenézte Erdélyt, sógora tömérdek kárán nem szánakozott
illő megindulással, az ország állapotján épen nem búsult s az asztal
fölött legtöbbet arról beszélt, mi ujság Bécsben s mindent elmondott,
mit kedves lapja, a Fremdenblatt, legújabb számában olvasott. Erzsi
sokáig öltözködött, el-elkésett a reggeli- vagy ebédtől, kevés kedvet
mutatott a ház gondjaiban való részvételre, a helyett érzékeny német
regények olvasásával töltötte az időt vagy Saphir Wilde Rosenjei
mellett ábrándozott Kahlenberger kapitányról. Radnóthynak hát elég
oka volt reá, hogy ellenséges lábon álljon sógornőjével és lyányával,
de az épen fölbőszítette, ha az ezredesné haragjában hánytorgatni
kezdé, hogy a börtönből kiszabadulását neki köszönheti, ha Erzsi
nénje pártját fogta, s elkezdtek egymással németül csevegni. Ez
utóbbi, minthogy minden nap megtörtént, már majdnem
tűrhetetlenné vált. Radnóthy ifjabb korában tudott valamit németül,
tisztelője volt a német műveltségnek, de most már keveset ért
belőle, s mióta német lett a hivatalos nyelv, ha tudna németül, sem
akarna tudni. Már maga a hang fölingerelte, aztán azt hitte, hogy róla
beszélnek, a mikor nem is beszéltek róla, azért néha szörnyen rájok
mordult, mire az ezredesné kis kutyája ugatni kezdett, s kész volt a
botrány. Az uraság versengése a cselédekre is kihatott. István egy
párszor jól oldalba döfte az ezredesné hórihorgas legényét, mert
csúfolkodni mert hegyes bajuszával, a gazdasszony sok mindennek
összemondta az Erzsi bécsi szobaleányát, mert becsmérli az
ételeket s egész grófnőt játszik. Mindennap történt valami olyas, a
mire az ezredesné közel volt az ájuláshoz, Erzsi sírt és Radnóthy
szitokra fakadt.
E miatt folyamodványain, ügyei védelmén sem dolgozhatott a
régi erélylyel. A költségek is mindennap növekedtek, annyira, hogy
kénytelen volt egy új darab erdőt eladni. Ha panaszolt az
ezredesnének, ha kikelt az új rendszer ellen, ha elmondotta, hogy
így pusztul ki lassanként minden erdélyi nemes ember, tüstént vita,
szitok és sikoltozás támadt belőle. Az ezredesné mindent a lármás
megyei és országgyűléseknek tulajdonított, kofaságnak nevezte a
sok czifra szónoklatot és fölterjesztést, betyároknak a kardos
juratusokat, vén bolondoknak a tisztes táblabirákat; hogy ez lesz
belőle, azt neki előre megjövendölte az ő boldogult férje, még ezelőtt
tíz esztendővel. Radnóthynak sem kelle több; bár a forradalmat
magában sok tekintetben hibáztatta, az ezredesné ellenében védett
mindent. Megtámadta az ezredest, a ki már tíz év óta nyugszik a
grazi temetőben, az ezredesnét, a ki saját udvarházában mer ilyeket
beszélni, leányát, a ki elég istentelen nénjének fogni pártját. Kihozta
iratait, fölolvasott nekik belőle mindent s midőn még sem szűntek
meg vitatkozni, fenyegette őket, hogy kitekeri nyakokat s földhöz
vágta az Erzsi Wilde Rosenjeit, az ezredesné Fremdenblattját, mert
alkalmasint ezekből tanulják azt a sok istentelenséget; ő nem olvas
mostani ujságot, se németet, se magyart, mind hazugságot és
ostobaságot írnak s ha ide kapna vagy egy szerkesztőt, bár soha
sem volt kegyetlen ember, Isten úgyse’ lehúzatná s huszonötöt
veretne rá István huszárral. Erre a nagy kegyetlenségre az
ezredesné természetesen elsikoltotta magát s még aznap el akart
utazni, – de azért ott maradt harmad napra is.
Erzsiért is sokat versengtek. Radnóthy vádolta az ezredesnét,
hogy egész bécsi leányt nevelt belőle s kivetkőztette jó szokásaiból;
hiszen már anyanyelvét is feledni kezdi, a gazdasszonykodáshoz
semmit sem ért s otthon sehogy sem tudja feltalálni magát. Az
ezredesné hálátlannak nevezte sógorát, Erzsi nagy műveltségével
kérkedett, a kit akármely tábornok is nőül vehet; nem is nevelte ő
holmi betyár erdélyi úrfi számára, sem azért, hogy Kolozsvárott vagy
Maros-Vásárhelytt temesse el magát, s ekkor hevében
kikottyantotta, hogy félig-meddig már akadt is szerencséje;
Kahlenberger kapitány udvarol neki, soha ily derék embert, soha ily
deli, vitéz, művelt és nagy befolyású férfiút, a sógor úr
kiszabadulását is egyrészt neki lehet köszönni. Radnóthy öklével az
asztalra csapott, hogy neki azt az embert többé senki se említse,
megesküdt, hogy leányát csak magyarországi vagy erdélyi törzsökös
hazafihoz adja nőül. Megtiltotta Erzsinek a franczia és német
csevegést, különben kitépi nyelvét; fenyegette, hogy lehasítja
komédiásnő ruháit, megparancsolta, hogy lásson a házi dolgok után
s úgy elfelejtse Kahlenbergert, mintha soha sem is született volna,
különben kitekeri a nyakát. Ebből aztán nagy perpatvar támadt, az
ezredesné görcsöket és migraine-t kapott, Erzsi beteggé sírta magát
s Radnóthy fölrúgta a ráugató Figarót.
 Így telt el néhány nap. Az ezredesné halálra unta magát; attól az
egyetlen mulatságától is elesett, hogy sógorával versengjen, mert
Radnóthy szobájába vonult, mélyebben merült előbbi
búskomorságába s csak irataival foglalkozott. A két nő elhatározta
hát, hogy szórakozás, mulatság kedvéért látogatást tesz a
környéken, a közel városkában. Azonban innen is, onnan is hamar
és kedvetlenül tértek haza. Erdélyben akkor mind politikai, mind
társadalmi tekintetben holt idény uralkodott. Mindenkinek volt valami
sebe, ha testén nem, lelkén, vagy legalább is vagyonán. Majd
minden család magába vonult és sebeit kötözgette.
A régi vendégszeretet, víg élet eltűnt, mintha a régi
alkotmánynyal temette volna el az idő. Rom, bú és szegénység
üdvözölték mindenütt a két mulatni vágyó nőt. Ide járult még, hogy,
bár gyöngédebb változatban, mindenütt hallottak valami ahhoz
hasonlót, a mit Radnóthy beszélt, vitatkoztak is egy keveset s
némely helyt az elváláskor épen hidegséget tapasztaltak. Találkozott
oly táblabiró is, a ki az ezredesnét nagyon gyanús szemmel nézte s
holmi politikai szerepet tulajdonított neki; egy másik épen kémnek
hitte, a ki azért látogatja a nemességet, hogy a vidék érzületéről
tudósítsa a hatóságokat. Egy helyt elszörnyedt az egész társaság, a
midőn az ezredesné azt beszélte, hogy Bach miniszter mily szép,
okos és derék ember, s egy estélyen mily jól mulatott vele.
Erzsit hajdani játszótársai nem győzték eléggé nézni, s divatos,
drága ruháit talán irigyelték is, de gúnyolódtak vele, hogy kiejtése
kissé idegenszerű s Bécsben nagyon elbüszkült, de hogy’ is ne,
midőn egy kapitány az udvarlója. Egyszóval nagyon rosszul ütött ki a
mulatság. Az ezredesné és Erzsi a két legszerencsétlenebb nő volt a
szerencsétlen Erdélyországban. Nem volt egyebet mit tenniök, mint
gyönyörködni a természet szépségében, a melyet nem sokra
becsültek, tűrni Radnóthy búskomor szeszélyeit, a melyeket napról-
napra tűrhetetlenebbeknek tapasztaltak, kérődzni a bécsi szép
napokon, olvasni Saphir Wilde Rosenjeit és sóhajtani Kahlenberger
után.
– Ah – sóhajtotta Erzsi nem egyszer – én sokkal boldogtalanabb
vagyok, mint édes néném! A néni visszamehet Bécsbe, engem nem
ereszt atyám, nénit szerette volt boldogult férje, engem nem szeret
Kahlenberger. Azt igérte, hogy meglátogat, s még mindig késik, csak
egyetlenegyszer írt a néninek, akkor is azt írta, hogy szabadságot
kér, jő – és még sem jő… Ah, jól mondja Saphir:

Nicht beglückter Lieb’ ist eigen,

Schweigend lieben, liebend schweigen?

– Ach! meine Elisabeth, mit beszélsz? Kahlenberger épen úgy

szeret téged, mint engemet boldogult férjem. Épen abban az
ezredben szolgál. Mein theurer Carl! Ach, mennyit szenvedtem én
leánykoromban, hányszor voltam úgy, hogy

Der unbeglückten Lieb’

Nichts als die Träne blieb!

s Carl mégis az oltárhoz vezetett. Elhagytam érte hazámat és utána

mentem. Hogy’ dobogott szívem, mind azt dobogta:

Doch hab’ ich noch ein Vaterland,

Ein zweites, theures gefunden,
Sein Herz ist jetzt mein Vaterland,
Woran ich wurzelnd bin gebunden.

Ach ez a Saphir mily szépen tudja kifejezni a szív érzéseit. Nincs

nála jobb költő a világon. Egészen megifjulok, ha olvasom. Én is
épen úgy szenvedtem, mint te, s épen oly boldog voltam, mint te
lészsz.
 Ah – sóhajtotta Erzsi nem egyszer – én sokkal
boldogtalanabb vagyok, mint édes néném!

Ilyenkor aztán eldicsérték Saphirt, ábrándoztak a boldogságról,

boldogtalanságról. Az ezredesné vígasztalta Erzsit, elmondotta,
hogy ő csak Kahlenberger megérkezését várja, ekkor atyjától
megkéri ünnepélyesen Erzsi kezét, ha beleegyezik jó, ha nem, akkor
magával viszi Erzsit Bécsbe, s majd talál módot rá, hogy
összekeljenek, s ha atyja akkor sem egyezik belé, nem lesz nagy
baj, mert kipörlik tőle az anyai részt. A megvígasztalt Erzsi nyakába
borult a jó néninek, összecsókolta, fölvidult, de minthogy nagyon
bele jött már a boldogtalanságba, azért mégis egész nap sóhajtozott
és szavalta Saphir kétségbeesett verseit. Szerencsére nagy
boldogtalanságában épen nem hervadt, folyvást jó egészségnek
örvendett s oly kevéssé törte meg szívét a boldogtalan szerelem,
mint kedvencz költőjeét.
A mit annyira óhajtottak, nemsokára teljesült. Kahlenberger
megérkezett. Nem kellett szabadságot kérnie; ezrede Erdélybe,
egyik közel városkába rendeltetvén, mindennap látogatója lehetett
Erzsinek. Az ezredesné magán kívül volt örömében, különösen
midőn Kahlenberger férjének egy pár régi barátját is elhozta
magával. E régi barátok később elhozták nejeiket és leányaikat is, a
kiknek kedvéért aztán néhány fiatal tiszt és hivatalnok is bemutattatá
magát az ezredesnénél.
Ez idő óta az udvarház ritkán volt vendég nélkül. Az ezredesné
rendezett, csinosított s bocsánatot kért a vendégektől, hogy nem
varázsolhatja ide bécsi szalonját. Erzsi új ruhákat csináltatott s
panaszolt a kolozsvári szabókra, a kik elrontják pompás kelméit. A
vendégek mosolyogtak, s dicsérték a romladozó udvarház
regényességét, Kahlenberger pedig épen Siebenbürgens Perlenek
nevezte Erzsit, mire az ezredesné megjegyezte, hogy Kahlenberger
úr valóságos Schöngeist. Most nagy ebéd volt, majd nagy ozsonna,
egy párszor estélyt is adtak. Kahlenberger kihozott az ezred
zenekarából egy pár zenészt és tánczoltak reggelig. A pusztuló
udvarházban újra visszhangzottak a régi napok örömei, de a
kivilágított ablakok fénye csak szomorúabbakká tette a rongált
tornyocskákat, düledező kéményeket, roskatag fedelet s a zaj
siketen hangzott végig a csendes udvaron.
Radnóthy e víg élet folyama alatt nem volt otthon.
Megszaporodott házi kiadásai és a pörköltségek miatt kénytelen volt
eladni egy más megyében fekvő zálogos jószágocskáját, melyet
maga szerzett volt s rendesen haszonbérbe adott ki. Ide utazott hát,
hogy örmény haszonbérlőjével alkuba bocsátkozzék, a ki eddig is
kölcsönözgetett neki. A lelkiismeret minden fordulása nélkül hitte
megköthetni az alkut, mert a birtok csak vett jószág s így a fiára
szállandó ősi örökséget nem csonkítja meg. Csak Erzsi szenved
kárt, de annak ő maga az oka, mert miatta szaporodtak meg
kiadásai s a leány része különben is mindig pótolható készpénzben.
E terv közben eszébe jutott, hogy még nem tett végrendeletet.
Elhatározta, hogy mihelyt végrehajtja a vásárt, megírja
végrendeletét, gondoskodni fog leánya pénzbeli kárpótlásáról, ha
beleegyezésével megy férjhez s átok alatt meghagyja fiának az ősi
jószág hű megőrzését, hadd szálljon az firól fira, unokáról unokára.
Útja több időt emésztett föl, mint a hogy számította, s mint
minden, a mihez haza jötte óta fogott, nem eshetett meg kisebb és
nagyobb keserűség nélkül. A múlt embere itt is összeütközésbe jött
a jelennel. Régi szokás szerint indult útra s nem vitt magával
útlevelet, a miért aztán letartóztatták s négy napot kellett
elveszítenie, a mennyi idő alatt igazolhatta magát. Kocsisa is
majdnem pörbe bonyolította; ez ugyanis hozzá szokott volt a régi
időkben, kivéve a főispánt, senki elől nem térni ki s ráhajtott egy
főhivatalnok kocsijára. A kocsi eltört, a kocsist pedig elfogták a
csendőrök. Ebbe is bele telt egynéhány nap. Majdnem két hét múlva
érkezett meg a haszonbérlőhöz, a kivel hosszasan alkudozott. Végre
megkötötte az alkut, a jószágok akkori értékéhez képest meglehetős
árban. Kipihenvén magát, kissé fölvidulva készült haza, azonban egy
Milanóból érkezett levél, a melyet az ezredesné utána küldött, nagy
szomorúságba ejté.
Arról vett tudósítást, hogy fia újra visszaesett régi betegségébe s
bár az orvosok biztatása nem hiányzik, a veszély nagy, s
megmaradása kétséges. Mindjárt fogatott és sietett haza. Hazulról
egyenesen Milanóba akart indulni s magával vinni leányát beteg fia
ápolására. Aztán eszébe jutott, hogy ő kezességre kibocsátott rab, a
ki nem lépheti át az ország határát; neki otthon kell ülni és várni, míg
egy fekete pecsétes levél érkezik, fiát idegenek temetik el, a régi
család kihal s az ősi jószág idegen kézre jut. Búval és haraggal telt
el. Leányára gondolt és Kahlenberger kapitányra, a kit az oly sokat
emleget s a kit bizonyosan férjül választ, ha ő kidül, a mi oly könnyen
megtörténhetik.
 Ekkor az ezredesné ellen fordult haragja. Elhatározta, hogy minél
hamarább visszaküldi Bécsbe; leánya kikerülvén befolyása alól, újra
hozzá édesedik, elfelejti Bécset, Kahlenbergert s mindent, a mivel őt
annyira búsítja. Haldokló és gyógyuló fia, megváltozott és újjá
születendő leánya alakjai között lebegett lelke, egyiktől a másikhoz,
s nem tudott megnyugodni.
Így ért haza s meglátván kivilágított udvarházát, a honnan zene
hangzott ki, összerázkódott, mintha valaki megütötte volna. Fia
temetése és leánya menyegzője egy bősz képpé olvadtak össze
lelkén, a halotti ének és tánczzene őrült hangzavarként zúgtak
fülébe. Megtörülte homlokát, a mely hideg verítéket izzadt, s
lassanként magához jött.
– A beteg még nem hal meg – nyugtatta magát – én is mily
hosszas beteg voltam… a hosszas beteg még kevésbbé. Reméljen
az ember, a meddig lehet, sőt azontúl is. Bizzunk az Istenben!…
Miért is haragszom szegény Erzsire oly nagyon? Elrontották egy
kissé, majd megjavul. Igen keményen bántam vele, elvadítottam
magamtól. Hibás vagyok. Majd jóvá teszem. Hadd mulasson. Miért
ne mulatna? Hiszen nem tudja, hogy bátyja beteg. Fiatal, szép; miért
ne tánczolna? Meg sem mondom neki holnapig a rossz hírt.
Bizonyosan egy-két régi jó barátom látogatott meg fiastul, leányostul
s Erzsi egy kis mulatságot rendezett számukra. Jól tette. Hadd
mulassanak. Bár szeretne belé valamelyik barátom fia. Istenem, ha
együtt tarthatnám meg fiam és leányom lakodalmát! Örömest
meghalnék.
A kocsi megállott s Radnóthy összeszedve minden lelki erejét,
hogy a rossz hírt eltitkolhassa, benyitotta az ajtót.
 VI.

Az ezredesné épen legfényesb estélyét adta. Számos vendég

gyűlt össze, több, mint máskor. Természetesen Kahlenberger játszta
a főszerepet, az ezred Don Juanja, a kit társai famoser Kerlnek
neveztek, s nem ok nélkül. Neki zsoldjából mindenre telt, nagy
vadász volt, híres opportirozó kutyával dicsekedett, elméssége soha
sem fogyott ki, Weber Demokritosát majdnem könyv nélkül tudta,
beszélt valamit francziáúl, sőt e nyelven talán a Paul de Kock
regényeit is elolvasgatja, ha el nem foglalják az asszonyok, a kik
minden városban bele bolondúltak. Aztán hogyan tánczolt! A
française-t más is tudta úgy, mint ő, de a walzerben és polkában
keresni kellett párját. Most is bámúlta az egész társaság. Erzsi
boldog volt, ha karjain lebeghetett, s úgy nevetett, hogy könnyezett
belé, ha tréfáit hallgathatta.
Egy öreg őrnagy, a ki a kipirúlt ezredesnét mulattatta,
megjegyezte, hogy e szép párt csak össze kell esketni, ő szívesen
lesz násznagy s kezet is adott reá. Egy hadnagy a cautióról beszélt,
a mely a leány vagyonából oly könnyen kitelik s utána vetette:
bagatelle! Egy kerületi hivatalnok neje tréfásan jó szívvel látta magát
a mához egy évre megtörténendő lakodalomra, mire az ezredesné
azt mondá: – Es versteht sich. Egy mérnök suttogva figyelmezteté
Kahlenbergert, hogy a rozzant ház helyébe mindenesetre egy
pompás mezei lakot kell építtetni s ő holnap a legczélszerűbb
tervrajzzal ajándékozza meg, a mit Kahlenberger nagy hahotával
fogadott s a miről teljességgel nem akart szólani a kérdezősködő
Erzsinek, a ki aztán úgy tett, mintha haragunnék. Szóval mindenki
vőlegénynek nézte Kahlenbergert s a tréfa és vígság általános volt.
Az atyára senki sem gondolt, s beléptét sem vették észre.
Legelőször is az ezredesné látta meg, azután Erzsi. Mindketten
majdnem felsikoltottak, mert féltek, hogy valami botrány lesz.
Azonban az ezredesné hirtelen föltalálta magát, elhallgattatta a
zenét, karon fogta vendégeit s egyenként bemutatta Radnóthynak, a
ki tisztelve a vendégi jogot, a lehető nyájasan üdvözölte őket. A
vendégek alig tudtak szóhoz jutni s elkezdték bámúlni a házi gazda
bozontos ősz haját, szakálát, különös úti öltözetét s magok közt nem
egy csipős megjegyzést suttogtak. Legelfogulatlanabb volt köztök
Kahlenberger, a ki tüstént elmés beszédbe kezdett, a melyet egy
egész óráig is folytat vala, ha Radnóthy részint tört németséggel,
részint kézjellel nem adja tudtára, hogy keveset ért németűl, nagyon
fáradt s le akar fekünni. Kahlenberger panaszolta barátjainak, hogy
ezután neki meg kell tanulni a pantomimiát, különben lehetetlen lesz
beszélnie leendő ipával. Az őrnagy elszörnyedt Radnóthy
műveletlenségén, a ki még németűl sem tud s mégis alispán volt. A
hadnagy egy curios fölkiáltással fejezte ki csodálkozását. A kerületi
hivatalnok mind azt emlegette, hogy bizony csak nagyon hátra van a
culturában Erdélyország. A mérnök föltette magában, hogy mihelyt
haza megy, lerajzolja az öreg urat, mint a kiveszendő régi magyar
nemesek példányát s fölküldi az Illustrierte Zeitungba. Mindezt
ugyan csak magok közt beszélték a vendégek, de némi gyöngédebb
változatban becsúszott az a köztársalgásba is. Az ezredesné és
Erzsi pirúltak, nagyon szégyelték a szegény sógort és szegény
papát, mentegették is a társaság előtt, de szívökben nem
nyomhatták el titkos örömüket, hogy a kis intermezzo nem adott
botrányra alkalmat s az öreg úr mérsékelte magát. Csak szánták, de
nem haragudtak reá, s egész vígan fogtak a megszakított estély
folytatásához.
Radnóthy szobájában virasztott, nyugodtabban, mint valaha, de
soha ily mélyen leverve. Elhagyta a bú, a harag, a remény és vígasz;
valami érzéketlen bódulat, fásultság fogta el. Először is levelet írt és
pénzt küldött haldokló fiának, aztán végrendelete megírásához
fogott. Egy-egy könnye hullott a papírra. A bevezetésben hazája és
családja romlását siratta. Aztán elmondotta, hogy az ősiség
eltöröltetvén, teljes szabadsággal rendelkezik vagyonáról minden
esetre, még arra is, ha fia halálával magva szakadna, mert a
koronára nem szállhat többé semminemű nemesi birtok. Elsajnálta
az ősiségi intézményt, a mely fenntartotta a magyar nemességet s
vele együtt a nemzetet; átok alatt meghagyta fiának, hogy semmit el
ne adjon ősi birtokából, mert megfordúlna sírjában, ha az idegen
kézre kerűlne. Előszámlálta, hogy mije volt és mije van, fölemlítette,
hogy csak szerzeményét adta el, az ősi örökség csonkítatlan
megvan, ha csak a bezirkerek önkénye meg nem csonkítja.
Elmondta, hogy az anyai rész, a mely drágaságban, pénzben és
kötelezvényben mintegy negyvenezer forintot tett, udvarháza
földúlatásakor elraboltatott vagy megsemmisűlt, anyja után tehát se
a fiút, se a leányt semmi sem illetheti. Megírta pontokba foglalva,
hogy minden fekvő és fölkelhető vagyonát fiának hagyja, azonban ez
tartozik Erzsi testvérét illően kiházasítani s férjhez menetelétől
számítva, tíz év alatt, a jószág értéke harmadának megfelelő
összeget fizetni ki neki vagy maradékainak, az illető kamatokat addig
is pontosan kiszolgáltatván, de csak azon esetre, ha Erzsi lemond
Kahlenbergerről s erdélyi vagy magyarországi hazafihoz megy
férjhez, ellenkező esetben mindenéből kitagadja, még akkor is, ha
fia elébb találna meghalni, mintsem a végrendelet teljesedésbe
mehetne. E gyászos esetben a protestantismus és magyar
nemzetiség egyik főtámaszát, a Bethlen Gábor fejedelem alapította
nagy-enyedi főiskolát teszi örökösévé, a melyben kiképeztetését
nyerte s a mely annyi kárt szenvedett a forradalom alatt, az oláh
pusztítás idejében. A végrendelet hosszú volt, idő telt abba is, míg a
fölhívatott lelkész és számtartó megérkeztek, hogy mint tanúk
aláírják. Midőn minden rendben volt, lehajtotta fejét a karszékre s
hallgatta a szobájáig hangzó zenét, föl-fölsohajtott s a régi napokra
gondolt; el-elszúnyadt néhány pillanatra, majd hirtelen fölriadt,
fölugrott s a leégő gyertyára bámúlt. Épen akkor oszlottak a
vendégek; az utolsó kocsi is elrobogott. Kezébe vette a
végrendeletet és gyertyát s az ezredesné hálószobájába indúlt.
Az ezredesné még nem vetkőzött le s vígan beszélt Erzsivel a
nagy nap eseményeivel. Radnóthy beléptére fölkeltek mindketten s
vidoran siettek elébe. Az ezredésné sajnálta, hogy sógora nem vett
részt a mulatságban, a mely non plus ultra volt. Erzsi nyakába borúlt
és sokat beszélt Kahlenbergerről, a ki a papának fegyverengedélyt
fog eszközölni s minden héten kijő ide vadászni. E szíves
magaviselettel nagy önmérsékletét köszönték meg, s az elmenetele
óta halomra szaporodott árjegyzékek keserűségét akarták
megédesíteni.
Radnóthy hallgatott; elővette a Milanóból kapott levelet s
átnyújtotta nekik.
– Csak nagyítás az egész – mondá az ezredesné – hogy minél
több pénzt küldjön a sógor. Gézának annyi baja sincs, mint nekem, a
ki ezekben a rossz szobákban minden nap háromszor kapok
rheumát.
– Kahlenberger majd írni fog Milanóba – szóla közbe Erzsi – őt
mindenütt ismerik s Gézára nagy ügyelettel lesznek.
Radnóthy nem felelt, a helyett kihúzta tárczáját s két darab
ezeres bankót kivevén, az ezredesné elébe tette.
– Itt van, a mivel Erzsiért tartozom: koszt, ruha, szállás és
nevelés. Koronként küldöttem is valamit, tudom, hogy így sem sok, a
nevelés pedig, oh az épen megfizethetetlen. De kevés pénzem van.
Aztán leűlt, elővette a végrendeletet s egész terjedelmében
fölolvasta.
– Tyrann! – sikoltá az ezredesné, s elkezdett átkozódni németűl,
francziáúl, versben, prózában. Majd magyarra fogva a beszédet,
eldühöngte, hogy törik-szakad, Erzsi a Kahlenberger neje lesz, ha
saját vagyonából kell is érte letennie a cautiót. E nagylelkűségen
aztán maga is elérzékenyűlt s féligmeddig elájúlt.
– Ach! – sohajtá Erzsi: több nem jutott eszébe a Wilde
Rosenekből, hanem azért mégis hangosan sírt.
Radnóthy hátat fordított az ezredesnének és hallgatott. Leányát
nézte, kinek sírása őt meghatni látszék. Ellenállhatlan erővel
vonzódott feléje, mintha utoljára beszélne vele. Megfogta kezét,
ölébe vonta, megcsókolta homlokát s gyöngéden kérdé tőle:
– Emlékszel-e Erzsike, most három éve, egy kis bált adott volt
szegény megboldogúlt anyád? Hogy ne emlékeznél, hiszen új ruhát
is csináltattunk neked, szép rózsaszín ruhát? Kis lyány létedre is
magadra vontad az ifjúság figyelmét. Sokan megtánczoltattak.
Istenem, mily szépen jártad a csárdást a főispán fiával! Szegény
édes anyád sírt örömében, hogy oly módosan viseled magadat. Úgy-
e, emlékszel a főispán fiára? Ő nagyon jó fiú; gróf, de nem büszke,
nem nézi le a nemes embert, a kinek ősei régiebbek az övéinél;
tudja, hogy törvény szerint Erdélyben nincs különbség a mágnás és
nemes közt. Maholnap bizonyosan meglátogat bennünket. Az öreg
Radnóthyt lassanként újra fölkeresik régi barátai. Adunk egyszer-
egyszer bált is. Újra tánczolhatsz vele. Hát ha megkérne, édes
Erzsikém? Én nem fogok ellenkezni, ha te is beleegyezel.
– Megbolondúlt a sógor, hiszen a főispán fia a tavaszszal jegyzett
el egy bárónőt; lejöttünkkor hallottuk Kolozsvárot – kiáltá az
ezredesné, a kit szörnyen bántott, hogy sógora hátat fordít neki, nem
is szól hozzá. Kezével indulatosan kezdett hadarni, s ez erőlködése
közben vendégfürtei a földre estek.
Radnóthy megvető tekintetet vetett reá, s némi gúnyos
udvariassággal, a melyet különösen az tett sértővé, hogy nem volt
kiszámítva, lehajolt, fölvette a vendégfürtöt s elébe tette az asztalra.
– Hát arra a magas, szőke fiatal emberre emékszel-e – folytatá
újra megcsókolva leányát – a kit mindig kis feleségének hívott?
Mondhatom, derék fiatal ember. Rég nem hallottam felőle semmit.
Mondják, hogy atyja, az én kedves barátom, meghalt, ő pedig
Magyarországra bújdosott. Ha visszajő, tüstént meglátogatja
Radnóthy bácsit, megkérdi, mit csinál az ő kis felesége. Mit feleljek
neki, szólj édes Erzsikém?
– Egy bújdosó, egy földönfutó felesége legyen? Abból semmi
sem lesz. Én Kahlenbergernek igértem, az ő felesége lesz, az övé,
az övé, csak azért is… dühöngött az ezredesné, oly keményen
csapva az asztalra, hogy a Fremdenblatt egy-két száma a légbe
röpűlt.
Radnóthy összehúzta szemöldökét, fölvette a leesett
Fremdenblattot, mintha mondani akarná az ezredesnének, hogy
olvassa kedves lapját és hallgasson, s nem ügyelve sűrű és hangos
átkozódásaira, folytatta leányával a beszélgetést.
 – Hát arra a halvány, szemérmes kis fiúra emlékszel-e, tudod
arra, a ki neked annyi képes könyvet hozott, s oly szép verset írt
anyád nevenapjára, aranyosszélű velinen, tulipánok és nefelejtsek
között? Jó tanuló volt mindig, és többre vitte volna, mint atyja, a ki
teljes életében szolgabíró sem lehetett. Most szegény fiú nem
használhatja tudományát, de azért folyvást bújja otthon könyveit.
Atyjának van valamije, kis birtokú nemes ember, de jó gazda. Tudod,
én soha sem adtam sokat a vagyonra. Hála Istennek, van annyim, a
miből elélhetek. Megépíttetem nektek ez udvarházat. Eltépem a
végrendeletet, ha akarod mindjárt, szemed láttára. Itt fogtok lakni
boldogan, mint én édes anyáddal. Négy lovat veszek, s új hintót
csináltatok menyegződ napjára. Nem lesz az egész megyében
csinosabb menyecske, mint az én kis Erzsikém.
– Du Unmensch! Egy betyárnak adni őt, az én Elisabethemet, a
kit Kahlenberger szeret – kezdé újra támadását az ezredesné, oly
nagy zajjal, hogy most a kis fekete kutya is megbátorodott, s vele
együtt ugatta és harapdálta Radnóthyt.
Radnóthy dühvel ugrott föl, azonban nem fordúlt az ezredesné
felé, a helyett olyat rúgott a kis kutyán, hogy az egy élest ordítva
elnémúlt és sántítva kullogott ki a szobából. Az ezredesné nagyot
sikoltott, a kis kutya után akart szaladni, de midőn látta, hogy
Radnóthy újra leányához fordúl, szenvedélyesen átöleli, megállott az
ajtóban, visszatartóztatva a kiváncsiságtól.
– Nagynénéd holnap el fog útazni Bécsbe vagy a hova akarja, és
többé nem fog ide jőni soha – mondá Radnóthy csöndesen. – Te itt
maradsz velem.
– Scandal! Infamie! – sivított az ezredesné egy székhez huzódva,
hogy legyen hová ájulnia. – Kiűzni a házból engem, hátat fordítni
nekem, nem szólani hozzám, vuklimmal csúfolódni, a kis kutyám
lábát eltörni! Ach, élne csak szegény férjem, tudom, duellumra hívná
e sértésért, megszúrná, levágná, összeaprítaná, így ni, – s ekkor
fölugorva, mintegy mutatni látszott kezével, hogy mikép szúrnák
meg, vágnák le, s aprítanák össze Radnóthyt.
 – Te itt maradsz velem! – folytatá az atya elsimítva leánya
homlokáról kibomlott fürteit. – Nem szükség, hogy oly hamar férjhez
menj. Válogass leányom, hiszen ifjú vagy még. Miért sietnél? Annál
több időd marad, hogy szegény apádat ápold, vigasztald. Jól fogunk
mi itt élni ketten. Te gazdasszonykodol, én gazdáskodom, újra
rendbe hozunk mindent. Majd látogatást teszünk a
szomszédságban; megint víg élet lesz itt, mint hajdan. Nem leszek
én mindig oly komor, most sem vagyok az, csak sok a gondom, csak
pöreimet végezhetném be, csak bátyád jöhetne vissza. Pedig
visszajő, ha te itt maradsz, az Isten meghallgatja a jó leány
imádságát. Úgy-e Erzsike, te jó leány vagy, szereted atyádat, nem
hagyod el vénségére, nem haragítod meg többé, olyan lészsz, mint
édes anyád volt, ez az áldott asszony, a kihez úgy hasonlítasz?
Csak most veszem észre, hogy szakasztott mása vagy anyádnak.
Mikor sírt, épen ilyen volt; mennyit sírt, hol értem, hol értetek, csak
magáért nem, soha… soha…
Erzsike nem szólott semmit, s midőn atyja, fölindulásában
kifáradva, egy székre hanyatlott, kifejtőzött karjai közűl. Ott állott az
atya és nagynéne között, nem tudva, hogy tulajdonkép melyikhez
tartozik. Hol egyikre, hol másikra nézett, és föl-fölsohajtott: – Welch’
ein hartes Schicksal!
– Elisabeth, komm zu mir! – kiáltá az ezredesné.
– Erzsikém jer velem, jer a szobámba – suttogta gyöngéden az
atya, fölemelkedve a székről, kézbe véve gyertyáját s a
végrendeletet.
Az ezredesné újra ismétlé hívását. Az atya hallgatott, s egy fájó
édes pillantást vetve leányára, még egyszer megállott a küszöbön.
– Hah Triumph! Triumph der Liebe und der Tugend – szavalta az
ezredesné, megölelve a karja közé szaladó Erzsit; aztán mindketten
sikoltva borúltak a pamlagra, mert egy iszonyú csattanás hangzott,
az ajtó csattanása, a melyet a szobájába tántorgó atya erősen
becsapott.
 Már dél felé járt az idő, midőn Radnóthy másnap fölkelt. Sokáig
aludt a terhes út és izgalmas éj után, s fáradtabbnak érezte magát,
mint lefekvése előtt. Rossz álmai voltak s alig bírt felöltözni. Egyedűl
öltözött föl, mert István jókor reggel a postára ment. Oly
csodálatosnak tetszett neki a mély csend, a mely udvarházában
uralkodott. Nem hallotta se az ezredesné lármáját, se a kis kutya
csaholásait, se a szobalyány sürgését. Az ebédlőben sem volt senki,
csak a tornácz küszöbén talált valakit, a kis sánta Mányit, piszegve s
egy levelet tartva kezében.
Némán vette át a levelet. Az ezredesné levele volt, kék tintával
írva, aranyos porral meghintve s megtömve mindazzal, a mit már
tegnap is elmondott. Mindennemű istentelenséggel vádolta sógorát;
megparancsolta neki, hogy a végrendeletet tüstént tépje szét, s
aláhúzta e szavakat: Erzsi csak azért is Kahlenberger felesége lesz,
s én nekik hagyom mindenemet, nem szorúltunk a maga rongyos
házára, sem pörös földjeire. A panaszok és fenyegetések
hosszadalmassága miatt e levél tulajdonképeni tartalma az utóiratba
szorúlt; itt röviden tudtára adta Radnóthynak, hogy se ő, se Erzsi
nem állhatják ki tovább kegyetlenségeit, ma reggel elútaztak
Bécsbe, s mindaddig még levelet sem írnak neki, míg meg nem
kérleli őket.
Zsebébe gyűrte a levelet s leűlt karszékébe. Maga sem tudta, mit
csinál, czél nélkűl nézett ide-oda; nézte az eszterhaj fecskefészkeit,
a hol a kis fecskék vígan csevegik körűl anyjokat, és sohajtott; nézte
a vídám galambokat, a melyek enyelegve repűlnek szét a dúczos
kapuról, és mormolt valamit foga közt; nézte a nagy komondort, a
mely hízelegve csúszott lábához, és fölkiáltott a mint megsímogatta:
«Becsületes Maros!» – végre megakadt szeme a kis sánta Mányin, a
ki még mind ott állott és folyvást piszegett.
– Mi bajod? – kérdé tőle durván.
A kis lyány úgy megijedt, hogy még jobban kezdett piszegni s
csak annyit volt képes mondani: – Erzsi kisasszony!…
– Mi bajod neked is Erzsi kisasszonynyal? – kérdé még
durvábban.
 – Mikor előállott a kocsi, átadta nekem ezt a levelet – szepegte
lelkendezve a kis lyány – én futni kezdettem. «Miért futsz?» azt
kérdezte. «Hát föl akarom költeni a méltóságos urat», azt feleltem.
«Miért akarod fölkelteni?» «Hát hogy búcsúzzék el a kisasszony,
messze mennek, úgy illik», azt feleltem és futottam. A kisasszony
utánam kapott és pofon ütött. Az nem baj, de elhasította ezt a szép
piros kendőt; a méltóságos asszony vette volt nekem, most
harmadfél esztendeje, ni, hogy elhasította…
– Ne sírj, veszek én neked majd szebb piros kendőt – mondá
Radnóthy magához szorítva az árvát, mintha Erzsit ölelgetné, s egy
mosoly lebbent el ajkán. Aztán elkomorúlt, elfordúlt, lehajtotta fejét
és gondolataiba mélyedt. – Hajh Erzsike… a kígyó, a kígyó… –
kiáltá hirtelen s ellökte magától a kis Mányit, a ki ijedten szaladt
lefelé, vissza-visszanézve, vajjon nem fut-e utána a szegény
méltóságos úr.
Radnóthy ott ült, nem is tudva, vajjon ellökte-e magától a kis
lyányt, vagy nem. Öntudatlanúl vette ki zsebéből az ezredesné
levelét, újra elolvasta és széttépte.
– Bár csak egy sort írt volna! Nem. Azt is nagynénjére bízza. Bár
csak egy kissé búsúlt volna, hogy elhagy! Nem. Örvend, tegnap is
nem értem sírt, hanem szeretőjeért. Bár csak reggel jött volna be
hozzám, hogy megcsókoljon, mikor alszom. Nem. Pofon üti a
szegény árvát, ki kötelességére emlékezteti. A kígyó!… többé nem
akarok reá gondolni. Van nekem még egy gyermekem. A fiúk mindig
inkább szeretik apjokat. Nekem fiam van. Lehetetlen, hogy
meghaljon… lehetetlen… lehetetlen – és összefogván kezét
imádkozott, buzgón, hosszan; nem vette észre számtartóját, a ki már
egy negyed óra óta áll előtte s beszélni akar vele.
A számtartó végre megszólalt, s benyújtván egy nyaláb
árjegyzéket, pénzt kért.
– Kérjen a sógornőmtől, küldje a sógornőm után. Én nem fizetek
egy krajczárt sem. Nekem kell a pénz, nekem beteg fiam van,
nekem nincs leányom, nincs… nincs… nincs!
 A számtartó vállat vont s az adóról kezdett beszélni, a melyet, ha
egy pár nap múlva be nem fizeti, exequálni fognak.
– Hadd exequálják. Adják vissza curialis földeimet, akkor fizetek,
addig egy krajczárt sem. Csak rajta, jőjjön az executio, üssék meg a
dobot, licitáljanak tetszésök szerint. Számtartó uram legtöbbet fog
igérni, kész pénzzel fizet ki mindent, erre adok pénzt – s ekkor
tárczájából egy ezeres bankot vett ki – itt van, aztán számoljon róla.
Nem vagyok én oly szegény, de megmutatom, hogy velem nem
lehet oly könnyen paczkázni. Ez is protestatio, ez a vis inertiæ. Tudja
mi az? Nem tudja, nem is szükség, tegye, a mit parancsolok.
A számtartó a gazdasági ügyekre vitte át a beszédet, de
Radnóthy nem hallgatta, visszaesett mélájába s ebédig
mozdulatlanul ült karszékében. Délben néhány kanál levest evett, s
egész délután mind csak azt kérdezte: haza jött-e István a postáról,
s midőn azt mondották, hogy még nem jött haza, azt felelte: – De
haza jő, jó hírt hoz.
Megint ott ült karszékében, pipára töltött s panaszkodott, hogy a
régi jó dohányt még csak egy pár hétig szíhatja az ember, kardja
után pipáját veszik el a magyarnak. – Kinézett az útra, várta a jó hirt,
ki-kiesett a pipa szájából s elaludt.
Alkonyat felé István csakugyan haza jött s egy levelet hozott.
Gyöngéden költötte föl urát, a ki mohón kapott a levélhez és lassan
bontotta föl. Olvasta, mind olvasta, kétszer, háromszor, négyszer,
aztán fölnézett Istvánra és hallgatott. István nem merte megkérdezni
tőle, hogy mi van a levélben; nem félelemből, hiszen urának arcza
nem hogy haragos lett volna, még bánatos sem volt, de az a buta
érzéketlenség, azok a meredt, fénytelen szemek egészen
megborzasztották. Radnóthy hátra hanyatlott karszékén, megint
elolvasta a levelet, s épen oly csodálatosan nézett a tornáczhoz
közeledő lelkészre, mint Istvánra.
A lelkész a városból jött s két levelet hozott az ügyvédtől; az
egyik Radnóthynak szólott, a másik az ezredesnének. Radnóthy
mintegy ösztönszerűen visszahökkent, kezével eltolta magától a
levelet, majd hirtelen elkapta, feltörte s oda adta a lelkésznek, hogy