Redemption

Chapter 2

    Amalie had no idea how long she had slept. Her eyes felt heavy and her throat was definitely parched. She was warm, and it felt fabulous. Her eyelids fluttered as she willed them to open slowly. The low light of the room was blinding for a moment, and she blinked several times as she tried to take in her surroundings.
    The ceiling consisted of dark timbers and the walls were of stone, painted a brilliant white. She turned her head slightly and noticed a large dressing table nestled in a corner. It, too, was made from a dark wood, and had a very handsome, large mirror situated atop it. Close by stood a wash stand and a changing screen with flowers painted in intricate, beautiful designs. At the foot of the bed was a large trunk. A ruby red settee was situated against the wall.
     As her eyes continued around the room she noticed a large wardrobe that stood slightly open. Her own clothing peeked out at her, and her face turned red, hoping that her rescuer maintained female staff, and that they had been the ones who had removed them. They appeared to have been washed and she thought she even saw a repair to one of the sleeves.
     Her eyes moved on toward the main source of light in the room. Windowed doors led out onto a spacious balcony and were hung with thick, red drapes. She couldn't tell if the sun was coming up or going down. The waning light cast long shadows across the floor and fell upon the tapestry that was hung on the wall. She perused the tapestry for a moment, taking in the battle scene with interest.
    It depicted a battle from the Ottoman war. A lean, armored man seated upon a great black horse faced off against rather rotund bearded man wearing a turban. Both men commanded mighty armies. The mountains towered high in the background, dotted with trees and the lovely purple and pink fauna that bloom during the humid summer. The shield of the man atop the horse bore the crest of the Order of the Dragon: a dragon incurved into the form of a circle, its tail winding around its neck, divided through the middle of its back with blood forming the red cross of Saint George.
    Amalie knew instantly this man was Vlad Tepes, hero of Wallachia, better known as Vlad the Impaler. Some said it was his penchant for cruelty that led him to murder and impale his enemies, but to the Romanian people who strongly opposed the Ottoman Turks, Vlad, son of Dracul, was a national hero. Some called him Dracula.
    There was a faint tap on the door and then it swung silently open. In the doorway stood a rather large woman with a kind face and bright eyes. Her plump mouth was turned up in a smile as she said, "Well, look at you. I'd say there's a bit more color in your cheeks today."
    She walked toward the bed and lifted one of the girl's arms as if it were a chunk of meat.
     "And, yes, you've definitely put a little weight on your bones, too. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up, but the master assured me you would be fit as a fiddle in just a few days."
     The lady continued to ramble on about something while Amalie's mind tried to process her words. Just how long had she been here? And whose home was this?
     "Excuse me," she said, as the other lady stopped to catch a breath. "Whose house is this and how long have I been here?"
     "Well, you've been here for about a week. And needed the rest, if I do say so myself. When Master Marius brought  you in, I thought for sure he had made a mistake and picked up a corpse. But he swore you were alive and he was right enough."
     "I'm sorry," Amalie said, confused. "Master Marius?"
     The lady smiled and turned to face her. Only then did Amalie notice that she had been retrieving her clothes from the wardrobe and had moved the screen back to reveal a huge tub.
     "Yes, dear," she continued. "Master Marius Lupescu. And this is his family's castle, Castle Bran. He inherited it when his family was murdered years ago." She made a tsk-ing sound. "Poor child. He was just an infant. The Bakkerston's, the murderous lot, didn't even know he was in the keep that night. And 'twas just the good Lord, I say, that made him sleep until they left. I worked for his sainted parents and when I came in the next morning...." She shuddered at the memory of it. "Ahhh, what a tragedy. I heard the poor lad crying and I raised him from then on."
     The woman looked at Amalie, a sudden sadness filling her eyes. "He's a good boy, miss. Never mind what anyone else says. My Marius is a good boy."
     And then suddenly she was back to chatting away about anything that crossed her mind at the moment. While she continued to talk, two men came through the door carrying large buckets of steaming water. After dumping them into the claw-footed tub, they left, pulling the door behind them.
     "Ok, missy," the rotund lady was saying as she swept the covers away from Amalie's scantily dressed body. "It's high time you washed and got dressed. Master Marius was fairly certain you would wake up today and ordered cook to keep breakfast for you. So hurry up, mind you, so everyone else can eat."
    She smiled brightly and strode to the heavy door. "Oh, and my name is Raisa...Raisa Ardelean."
     And with that, she left just as suddenly as she had arrived.
    Amalie swung her legs over the edge of the bed and slowly placed her weight on them to stand. Her muscles were so weak that she could hardly stand, but after a moment she was able to make it to the tub of steaming water. As she settled in she thought that this bath had to be the best she had ever experienced. She was tempted to close her eyes, but she remember how Raisa had told her that breakfast was waiting. And she was absolutely famished.
    She bathed quickly, reveling in the smell of the lavender soap that had been left for her. As she toweled her hair dry she was thankful that it no longer reeked of the plague, but smelled soft and sweet. She paused a moment at the mirror on her way to the door. Her cheeks were now rosy with life and her piercing blue eyes, though still ringed with dark circles, shone brightly. Her hair was thick and as black as a raven, and her skin was slightly pale, but glowed healthily after the vigorous scrubbing.
    She noticed a spot on the side of her neck. She leaned closer to the mirror and saw that it looked like a bite of some kind. She was not surprised. She had encountered all kinds of creatures in the forest that night she was sure. This was probably just a spider bite, and it seemed to already be healing. She thought no more of it and turned from the mirror.
As she opened the door, she came face to face with a towering, dark figure. Or rather, she came face to chest - she was much shorter than the man who stood before her.
"My lady," he said as he bowed to her.
"My lord," she responded, with a curtsy.
"I must say I am glad to see you up and," he paused as he looked her over, and then continued, "obviously much healthier than you were when I found you. I trust you have rested well these past few days?"
His dark eyes seemed to penetrate into her very soul as he looked at her, awaiting her response. Amalie looked away for a moment to compose herself.
"Yes, my lord, it seems that the rest has done wonders for me. And I wish to thank you for your kindness. I am afraid that without it I most certainly would have perished in the forest."
He extended his arm toward her in a most courtly manner and, tucking her arm close to his side, he smiled down at her. She thought the smile did not quite reach his eyes, but there was no malice or disgust that she could see. She hoped that she had not offended him in some way, but thought it better not to ask.
"You are welcome, my lady. Now, come, let us break the fast. I know you must be famished."
He led her down the winding staircase, through the great hall and into a very spacious dining hall. A long wooden table stood in the center of the room, polished to perfection. And that table was laden with all sorts of food. The aroma that was coming from that table were enough to make Amalie want to forget her manners and just dive right into the middle of it...roll around in it...tangle herself up in those wonderful sausages...
She laughed inwardly at the pictures of herself that her mind was conjuring up. Aunt Olga had always rebuked her for her wild imagination. "An imagination such as yours is just a tool of the devil to get you into trouble, Amalie," she would chide. "Now be a good girl and focus more on your prayers."
They had reached the table and her escort pulled back her chair and, when she was seated, he then seated himself at the head of the table next to her. He picked up the tiny bell that rested beside his glass and rang it twice. A barrage of servants entered the room and the serving of the magnificent breakfast began.
The famished young lady tried her best to eat as a lady would, but hunger made her a little less lady-like and a little more unmannerly. She knew she was stuffing her face so fast her cheeks would probably explode, but she was so hungry she just didn't care anymore. She dared not look at her host - she was so ashamed - but hunger has no manners. And she knew that the servants were probably looking on in horror as she shoved not one but two of the butter glazed scones into her mouth at once, barely taking the time to chew them before reaching for another dish. Once she started feeling full, she was able to slow down a bit and begin to savor the fine cuisine that had been set before her. Only then did she glance nervously at the man seated beside her.
He hadn't said a word. What could he say? He knew the poor girl had to be hungry, so he just let her eat until she was ready to take a break. He had never seen a girl eat so much, but then he had never really paid attention to how much normal ladies eat.
"Please," he said, "eat until you can eat no more."
"Um," she mumbled, "I - I think I'm done for the moment." She gave him a wry smile. "I apologize for my lack of manners, my lord. . ."
"Marius," he interrupted, "my name is Marius."
"Yes, my lord Marius. . ."
"No," he interjected yet again, "just Marius. I am not your lord."
"Oh, of course," she responded, blushing. "Marius." She toyed with the napkin in her lap. "Thank you again, Marius, for your hospitality and this wonderful breakfast. I was terribly hungry. I hope I did not offend you."
"Of course not. . .um. . ." He looked at her questioningly.
"Oh, my name is Amalie," she said with a shy smile. "Amalie Grigorcea."
    He rose and smiled, pulling her chair back so she could rise. Then he took her hand and bowed low.
    "Marius Andrei Mihail Lupescu, at your service, madam."
"Lupescu," she murmured. "Son of the wolf, yes?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"I think I remember seeing a great white wolf the night you found me."
"Apollo," he said matter-of-factly. "I raised him from a pup. He is the one who found you." He looked at her, a quizzical expression on his face. "I have never seen him so docile as he was that night. Normally, he would have attacked, but for some reason that night he just stood over you. Almost as if he wished to protect you from something."
    "Well, I for one am certainly glad that he decided to forego the customary attack mode. I thought I might die that night, but that wasn't the method I would have chosen to end my life."
    Marius led her back to the great hall. He motioned for her to sit and then he followed suit.
    "Do you feel well enough to travel today? I am sure your family must be worried about you. I can escort you back to your village. You are from Brasov, yes?"
    "Yes, but. . .but they obviously thought I was already dead." As she said it out loud, Amalie realized how terrible her Aunt Olga must have felt as she watched them cart her niece's frail body into the night, knowing she would not be able to give the young girl a decent Christian burial. She looked over at Marius, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
    "I remember waking up on the cart with all the other dead bodies around me, and the stench of the fire. . .ugh! That was just awful! I finally managed to get off the wagon and crawl to the woods. After that I just got as far away from that horrible place as I could. I just wanted to live."
    Marius reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. His hand was warm and strong, and she found a strange sense of peace as he touched her.
    "I will make sure you get back to your parents." He rose and made his way to a sash that hung from the ceiling, pulling on it twice. Within moments a servant entered the room, bowing low.
    "My parents are dead. I live with my Aunt Olga."
    Marius nodded and turned to his attentive manservant. "Please prepare the carriage. We travel to Brasov."
    The steward's face showed a hint of surprise, but he bowed once again and left the room.
    Within minutes Amalie was seated across from Marius in a luxurious hansom, ornately trimmed with gold and purple cloth. She had never seen anything so beautiful, and she felt rather out of place in her plain old linen dress. Marius, in contrast, was very well suited to his surroundings. His clothes seemed to be as expensive as the landau in which they rode. She stole a few glances at him when he wasn't watching her.
    He was absolutely gorgeous. She had noticed his handsome face earlier, but being this close to him now she was able to see him in more detail. His hair was black as coal, and thick, just long enough to give him a rakish appearance. His face had the patrician features of the high-born class. And his eyes - she could almost swear they were black, they were so dark. When he looked at her, it felt as if he could somehow possess her very being. He was very tall and, as the carriage swayed, his long legs would brush against hers. She blushed at the thrill of just that small amount of contact, and she chided herself inwardly for being such a girl.
As if I've never been bumped by a man, she scoffed. How childish I am to think such lovestruck thoughts. And yet, the girlish thoughts kept coming. She sighed softly. She couldn't explain it, but there was definitely something different, and very attractive, about this Marius Lupescu.
    There was a tap on the top of the carriage indicating that they had reached the village. The sun, which had been shining brightly when they left Castle Bran now disappeared behind some clouds as the driver opened the door. Marius alighted from the cab with a flourish and helped Amalie disembark. Her skin tingled where he touched it, and she mentally told herself to get a grip. He was just another man, a stranger who was doing a good deed by helping her, a recovering plague victim.
    He told the driver to wait and then followed Amalie down the street to a tiny white-washed cottage. Flowers bloomed in all colors and sizes - peonies, lilies, tulips and lilacs. The smell was intoxicating to Amalie. Oh, how she had missed her home!
    She knocked gently on the door and smiled when the door swung open and she saw her Aunt Olga. Amalie threw her arms around the older woman, tears finally making their way down her cheeks.
    "Oh, auntie, I've missed you. I cannot imagine how the last few days have been for you. But everything is ok now. I'm home and getting better everyday."
    Amalie felt her aunt's arms go around her, but something just didn't feel right. It was as though she was afraid of the younger girl. Amalie stepped back and looked at her aunt, noting the confusion on her face. She smiled tenderly.
    "I will explain everything, Aunt Olga. I promise. I would like for you to meet the man who saved my life." She turned to Marius, who then executed a low bow to the matriarch.
    "My pleasure, madame." He looked at Amalie. "If all is well here, I should like to return home."
    "Oh, yes, of course, and thank you, Marius, for all you've done to help me." She smiled brightly at him.
    Marius smiled, bowed low, and walked back toward his hansom. As he passed people in the street, they turned to stare, their gazes taking in his tall, muscular form. His very presence commanded an audience. It's as if the people were compelled to watch him even as he performed a mundane chore, such as entering his carriage. They continued to watch as his hackney pulled away. The sun came out from behind the clouds and Amalie was able to appreciate the absolute beauty of the outside of the carriage. The sun seemed to follow the conveyance as it wound its way out of town and disappeared into the trees.