Fighting by the same side as Laurentiu and Cecilia was a hard blow to my pride, but a sacrifice I had to do to defend my people. They left us soon after convincing me, to gather their own forces and to find shelter for the day. My part would be to rouse the slumbering spirit of the Vlachs, travel around the countryside of Sighişoara and raise the serfs to rebellion. But would they follow a woman?

I think my father tried to sound reassuring but his broken voice just served to strengthen my doubts and fear. I forced a smile and sate down beside him. The dim light of dawn was approaching but ‘twas still dark outside.

Those were the only words that I could find. I caressed his dry cheek and gazed into his eyes. His shaking had gone down to a mere nervous fidgeting and he tried to smile.

“Is that hope, shining in thy eyes?” I asked. He nodded slowly and carefully, almost as an afraid his neck would break.

At those words I could not contain my tears any longer and I embraced him, kissed his cheek and forehead.

Suddenly a high-pitched shriek sounded from above and I nearly toppled the bench as I stood up.

My father stuttered something incomprehensibly. His head fidgeted oddly as he glanced up at the ceiling. I looked up at the murky ceiling and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

At that moment a chilling gale swept across the chapel. A terrible chorus of bats shrieked and my vision was blocked out by veils of darkness and countless leathery wings. I lost all sense of direction. I felt cold hands, icy winds and sharp claws. And the deafening chorus of countless bats.

“Hail to thee, Liviu Basarab.”

Silence. A silence as I had never known ere. A silence that thou couldst feel, touch. A silence that strangled thee from within.

“M-m-mistress.”

I blinked. My father lay crouching in a corner. Something loomed above him. A giant flittermouse, I thought at first, but the shape was human, at least vaguely.

“Thou hast not sowed any plants?”

The voice was hoarse and high-pitched.

“Nay, Mistress...”

I tried to crawl closer but a freezing wind chilled me to the bone and countless shrieking bats lashed down upon my face.

“Thou hast not swept away the dust?”

“N-nay, Mistress...”

I backed away from the bats and hid in another corner, shaking from chill and fright.

“Thou hast not rung the bells?”

“Nay... Mistress.”

“Thou hast not mended the broken door?”

“Nay... nay, Mistress.”

“I list this place.”

“’Tis thine, Mistress.”

I do not wot how to describe that sound. But I believe it was laughter.

“Of course, Liviu.”

The shape slowly glided backwards away from my father.

“Still I am not content.”

Father threw himself down in front of it and kissed the floor.

“What can I do for thee, Mistress? What is it that falters thee?” he cried desperately.

“I felt positive emotions tonight. I felt hope. I felt happiness.”

“Nay, Mistress. There is no hope!”

“Lies”, she hissed. Then she slowly turned. Cold hands grabbed my shoulders and caressed my neck. Tears of fright turned to frost in my eyes. I wanted to run but spasms and cramp held my body in an iron grip.

Her face was veiled. But I felt the eyes; two cruel eyes burning with white flames, piercing my gaze. Tearing into my body. Ripping my heart out. Clawing my flesh apart.

“Thy progeny”, she hissed. I closed my eyes. Tried to hide myself from the world without.

“Nay, Mistress... please...”

“Rudica Basarab.”

“...please...”

“There is no hope.”

“Kyrie eleison...”

“There is no hope.”

“...Christe eleison...”

“No hope.”

This time I was sure I was dead. Sure that my Lord and Saviour had delivered me. I lay on a bed of moss, looked up at the dark blue nightsky between branches of tall pines. The air was cool and a soothing breeze caressed my face.

And my angel was there. My guardian angel. Coming down from the shining moon above. Slowly, gracefully. Smiling serenely. The skin smooth as water, white as ivory. A mane of fire framed the face. Blinding flames. I could barely look that way. All too light. Far too light. Blinding. Dazzling. A searing pain in my eyes...

I never really appreciated the sunlight anyway. But there were times when I hated it. Such as when the unforgiving beams of morn greeted me as I awoke.

I flew up, wide awake and span around. The chapel bathed in light from the sun. And it was inane. I froze to the spot. A twisted hand of anguish tore into my chest.

“Father...?” I whispered carefully. “Father...”

Then I heard what had awakened me.

Horns. Drums. Clanging of steel. Shouts of anger. Cries of panic and agony.

We were caught between the hammer and the anvil. The Venetians under the lead of Armando had charged down from the western pinnacle and the Saxons under Count Lanzo from the eastern. There had been no such thing as resistance. The few villeins who had survived the initial onslaught flied in the direction of the graveyard and chapel. I blocked out all thoughts of the gore, the cries, the agonized faces of mothers who had lost their childer, and tried to focus on the situation at hand. I prayed to the merciful Lord for strength and tried to help the flying people into the chapel. Some of the Saxons pursued whilst the Venetian crossbowmen rained deadly bolts upon them but we managed to save almost a dozen ere we had to close the broken gates. An elderly villein helped me block the door with various benches and stools, whilst the blacksmith Cosmin made his last stand outside and kept the pursuers at bay long enow for us to seal the entrance. May he rest in peace.

When the door was blocked and we got a fleeting moment of safety everything came back to me. I sate down, leaning against the wall behind and buried my face in my hands. It was pitch-black in there, I could tell no difference between having my eyes oped and closed, and were it not for the scornful laughter from the outside, pained moans and silent weeps everything was silent.

“There is no hope”, I whispered to myself. “No hope...”

“There is ever hope, milady.”

An old and hoarse voice. The man who had helped me block the door.

“Nay, there is no hope... whither is my father?”

“Thy sire is dead...”

“Dead?”

I looked up. He had lit a candle that illuminated the chapel dimly.

All eyes were on me. Anguished, panicked, frightened, pained eyes. He was the only one that seemed calm.

“I found his body by dawn. Spread-eagled and maimed.”

“Maimed?” I fought hard to keep my voice steady, but I could not contain the tears. “How?”

“It seemeth he had fallen.”

I buried my nails in my arm and banged my head against the wall behind. Focused on the pain so as not to shake uncontrollably or throw up.

“No hope...”

He embraced me gently and kissed my forehead.

“Thou hast to be strong, Rudica.”

I recognized that face. Elderly and scarred, but there was no doubt.

“Ion?”

“Yea”, he smiled sadly, “once upon a time I was Ion, chamberlain of the Boyar of Sighişoara.”

“Liviu Basarab! We wot thou art in there. An thou comest out no one shall be harmed.”

The voice of Armando Giovanni was not as pleasant as I remembered it. I was about to speak but Ion silenced me with a gesture of his hand.

“We can wait for eternity, Liviu. Thy end hath come. We will burn down every damned village and town.”

The eyes of all the villeins were on me and Ion. I fidgeted nervously but he just shrugged his head.

“They would never do that. Who would feed them? Who would build their castles?”

“He is the only one that could rouse the people to war and more important still, get support from other defeated nobles around hither. He was related to ruling houses over all of Transylvania, Wallachia and Moldova.”

I felt all those frightened eyes upon me and could not but break out in tears again.

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. Why was there no caring mother to take care of me? Whither was that guardian angel with the fair features and fiery hair?

That was the most painful day I had ever been through. As my sorrow had not been enow I had all the faith and hope of the others lying heavy upon me. Faith, hope? There is no faith or hope, I wanted to scream. But of course I could not. I had accepted my role. And that decision made it easier. At least a bit. Ion asked a few times what we were waiting for, why we waited for the night. But I only gave him vague answers. Not really wanting to talk about it. Not sure at all that Laurentiu and Cecilia would arrive. Not sure that I wanted them to.

I managed to fall into an uneasy sleep sometime during the day, exhausted from lack of both sleep and food. Even though my rest was plagued by nightmares and worries, I think it did me good. At least I felt alive again by dusk.