《LML》Fateful day
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With these words, one of the chapters of a thick book ended. Half of the book was still unread, but the black-haired guy yawned and put the volume aside. Blinking his azure eyes, he stood upright with his full height, which can be considered average for his 16 years, opened the door, and walked to the stairs leading down. The young man's name is Marzio Variatle, the son of pharmacist Alessia Variatle and a general of the Liechtenstein Army (by that time only a captain). Hugo da Fermo. During the Southern Italian campaign in Liechtenstein, an army of mercenaries and soldiers recruited from the allied Italian lands stopped in the city of Forge, where Marzio's parents met. Alessia Variatle was a local medic, so she was sent to help the wounded along with the rest of the healers. In the infirmary, she met a young captain Hugo, who was ill at the time. The peculiarity of Alessia was that her father, who studied "ancient artifacts" contrarily to the church, and especially those that were related to medicine, so Alessia internalised all the knowledge of her father. In conditions of strict secrecy, she was able to understand some aspects and, thanks to her skills, saved many lives, among which was Hugo, who was attracted to the girl. Hugo himself was from the commoners: he started his career as an ordinary recruit in the army and then began to rise higher, due to his skills. During a barbaric raid on Sicily, Liechtenstein sent his army to help, in which he found himself with the rank of sergeant of the Italian infantry, Hugo. During one of the campaigns, Hugo's squad was ambushed by superior enemy forces. The defeat was obvious, but he skillfully used the landscape, as well as his tactical talent, thanks to which the squad did not only survive, but also inflicted significant losses on the enemy, getting off easily. For this feat, Hugo da Fermo got promoted, and then he began to make a rapid career. There were no obstacles to their union, so Hugo took Alessia with him, but long hikes and the field life tired her, besides, she was already carrying Marzio, so Hugo decided to leave her for a while in a safe town in the north of Italy in the county of Bologna. At that time, Bologna actively cooperated with Liechtenstein and, in fact, was its vassal. Northern Italy was much safer than the south, which had always suffered from barbarian raids from North Africa.
In the city of Forli, Marzio's father had an old acquaintance, it was the head of the convent of Saints Peter and Paul, which was located in the suburbs of Margaret Colombo. It was the place where Captain Hugo da Fermo left Alessia Variatle, who had already given birth to Marzio, for a while. After that Hugo returned to Venice, where his life began to change dramatically: Liechtenstein was expanding its borders to the east, and by that time it already occupied all of Switzerland and Austria, the crown demanded the lands of Hungary and Slovakia, so new armies were preparing. It was in the eastern campaign that Hugo da Fermo made another career rise, thanks to his talents, becoming already a general of the army. Later the king of Liechtenstein granted him the nobility so that now he was called no other than General Hugo von Fermo, and after that, a prompt old man from a noble, but not very rich, family, married off his youngest daughter with him. Now Hugo had both the nobility and a legitimate spouse, so it was impossible to bring Alessia and Marzio to him. However, he did not forget about them, but began, as far as possible, to visit and help them in every possible way. So, in addition to Aunt Margaret, Alessia with the child were helped by a local influential merchant Giovani da Chiesa, who promised Hugo to look after the boy. With Hugo's money, Alessia bought a house in the suburb of Forli not far from the monastery and also opened her own shop in the city, where she sold herbs, infusions, etc., helping local residents as if she was a healer. Few people in the city knew about the fate of Alessia, so everyone considered her a military widow. This legend was supported by Margaret, who called Alessia her distant relative. Giovani, on the other hand, was like a trading partner with whom Alessia worked. So began the quiet childhood of the bastard Marzio Variatle in the town of Forli in the county of Bologna.
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Having descended the stairs, Marzio found himself in a large room on the first floor of his and his mother's house, in which there was a kitchen that served as a living room. The large table was already covered with a tablecloth, and Alessia was laying out food on the table near the stove.
'Good morning, mom.'
'Morning, Marzio, sit down. The ragout is about to be ready.'
Marzio sat down and continued to think, which he did quite often, being distracted by the cooking of no longer young girl with silver hair gathered in a bun, turned up to the top in a shape of a small straight nose. Marzio loved his mother: he considered her the most intelligent person and it is not surprising, because she taught him many useful things, and also taught him to write and read. Without saying about many prescriptions of medicines, infusions, and other healing practices that can save a person's life. It is also worth mentioning the "artifacts of the ancients", with which his mother often worked. Although it was forbidden, Alessia was sure that there was great power and knowledge hidden in them that could help people. She did all this under a big secret, which only three people knew about: Marzio himself, Aunt Margaret, and the merchant Giovani, for whom Marzio worked. By the way, it was Giovani who taught Marzio to count well, so that the young man at the age of sixteen was quite educated for his time. But he did not want to stop at what he had achieved, so he sought – where possible – to gain new knowledge and skills. For example, he knew geography well, understood the structure of various mechanisms, shot quite accurately with a crossbow, which was given to him by Giovani on his fourteenth birthday, and also knew a little about natural science. Marzio had no friends, and not because he shunned people or no one wanted to hang out with him – no. It was due to the high mortality rate of children, so Marzio, who was stronger in health, outlived many of his acquaintances. Physically, he was fine, but he couldn't compare with more trained people. However, Marzio did not plan to become a warrior – he wanted to devote his life to science, just like his mother did. Just recently, old Margaret brought Marzio a new book that they had brought to the monastery. It was about its contents that Marzio was thinking hard, sitting at the table. So, immersed in his thoughts, he did not even notice how the table was already set, and in front of him was a face with perfect, not thin, and not thick eyebrows raised to the top. Repeating the expression on his mother's face, and trying to say something, he was interrupted:
'Get your head out of the clouds! Grandma is coming to see us today.'
'Grandma!? What does she want?' asked Marzio indignantly.
'Marzio, Margaret is a good woman, I don't understand why you and she always have to quibble.'
'Because she doesn't understand that everything you do is for the good of people. Instead of praying, I need to read books. And she says that I need to study the Bible!'
'You need to know the Bible, otherwise, you will be considered an apostate, since you can read, and do not know the main book.'
'Yes, Mom...,' again lost in his thoughts, Marzio unintentionally ignored his mother until the door opened and the "hateful old woman" in a monk's cassock and with her sharp nose came into him.
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'Alessia, is this rascal still asleep?'
'No, I'm not sleeping!'
'What a pity,' Margaret said sarcastically.
Marzio was about to lose his temper, but he saw how his mother was looking at him and decided not to take any chances. Making a reasonable face, he tried to start eating but was stopped by a short word from his mother.
'Wait for everyone, Marzio. Margaret, how are you?'
'Like all old people, we are living out our lives, so you'd better tell me why the boy can read, but still hasn't read the Bible beyond the first page. And what if he's got asked about something? Of course, his face is your copy, there are also his father's features, but while he is young, he looks more like you... But I don't see any prudence in him.'
'Well, he is reasonable: he reads, Giovani taught him to count, he also knows about herbs, and he is fond of healing and artifacts.'
'The thing is that he is only reasonable, but there is no prudence in him. And the fascination with artifacts is a dangerous idea, my dear. Again, I look at him like I look at you, you don't cross the line and don't tell everyone that you have here. But what about him!? Not to mention that he has knowledge that not every noble can master. Only his father's position would save him if something happens.'
'Enough about it, let's eat, Mrs. Columbo.'
'It's true,' Margaret agreed. 'But we will come back to this later.'
They sat down at the table, which was decorated with iron dishes, which did not leave Margaret Columbo indifferent.
'And here is this gross. Are you tired of living?' Margaret said with a frightened face.
'If you don't like it, can I serve food in a wooden one?'
'No need, let's pray and start eating.'
Everyone crossed their arms and whispered lines from Father noster in Latin.
'Why do we do this every time?' Marzio said a little wistfully.
'Because we turn to the Lord and thank him for the gifts he sent to us from above!' Margaret answered in a pious voice.
'This is a necessity, Marzio, do not anger your grandmother.'
'Margaret, I don't my grandm…' before she could finish, Marzio came to his senses, – the decree. - He squeezed out of himself, watching the old woman's sidelong glance.
'Enough about this,' Mrs. Columbo took the situation into her own hands. 'Crusaders have visited our city, and the world is now restless. Liechtenstein is expanding to the east, no matter how it looks at our south again, we are already practically vassals. The church, in order to somehow calm people, has strengthened and carries the word of the Lord with a new force, no matter how the Lord's servants are not hurt, the human body will not withstand all the tests. By the way, your father is in the east now, Marzio.'
'Hugo wrote that he would stay there for several more years before he returns to his castle, and God only knows when he will reach us.' Alessia sighed.
'He'll come back, be calm. He will never forget your meeting, your mother's knowledge, Marzio, saved his life.'
'It is important not only to know but also to be able to. And my mother could!' Marzio broke into the conversation.
'No manners...,' Columbo grumbled. 'I'm not arguing,' she agreed, 'I would say that if you weren't raised like that.'
'All the same, if it were not for these methods, half of the soldiers who passed through the infirmary would not have joined the ranks again.'
'In Forjo, everything was terrible,' Alessia remembered with pleasure. 'We will not survive another southern campaign.'
'Well, you'll manage somehow, and don't worry about Marzio, since his father was promoted from a commoner captain to a baron and received property in the foothills of Austria, then our naughty boy will grow up just the same good warrior, take a look: he's only 16, and he's already well built, he can work in a field, besides they won't push us to south, it's so dangerous there: these barbarians attacking Sicily from across the sea...'
'And what if they push back?' Marzio interjected again.
'Do not think about the bad, my son.'
'Even if there is a second campaign, we will be able to ask to get us to Hugo, he is no longer that da Fermo, but already General von Fermo! Since the King of Liechtenstein has granted him a hereditary title, your father's patronage has a different weight.'
'Even so, we're too far away from him – he might not make it in time,' Alessia disagreed. 'And it will be difficult to hide in the monastery, even though you are the abbess. We still have the influence of merchants in the first place.'
'The merchants will not sell the monastery – it is the property of the church. We are completely self-sufficient, and if a war breaks out, the merchants will also make a profit from this, trading with both sides.'
'How angry Giovani would be right now with your words.'
'Giovani is old; he is not the young adventurer who traveled all over the world'
'But even then he was against wars.'
'Let's not discuss Mr. Chiesa.' Alessia's eyes dimmed and began to turn blue.
'Why did this make you sad?' Margaret asked solicitously.
'What makes you think that I'm sad?' Alessia tried to smile.
'Нour eyes change colour according to the mood, just like Marzio's do. It's been too long since Hugo asked me to look after you with a child who wasn't even one-year old that I couldn't learn to read your emotions. Alessia drooped but did not reply. At that moment, Marzio had already finished his portion, thereby he freed his mouth, which was not often closed for no reason.'
'Mom, don't be sad, look, I've eaten everything, let's get ready for work, because Uncle Chiesa is probably waiting for me in his shop, and you need to go to your own.' Marzio said it in a childish way.
'Marzio, the fact that you've eaten doesn't mean that your mother and I are finished. Since you are so energetic, wash the dishes and clean the house, help your mother.'
Marzio, frowning, went to carry out the orders of the old sack. After the door was slammed, Margaret looked at Alessia with concern.
'What happened? it's unlike you.'
'I...' she hesitated 'I have a bad feeling.'
'A feeling of what? Hmm, maybe you should stay at home today, the shop may not work for a day.'
'Since the Crusaders have come to us, they will resupply, I don't think they are not interested in medicines. And if I'm not there, one of them may die fighting demons.'
'Or rob your shop.'
'Either that. '
Sighing heavily, the women continued to eat. After a while, Marzio returned, and they went to the city together.
The weather was almost cloudless and sunny. It was that pleasant summertime when the sun shines brightly, but there is no sultry heat. A light breeze pleasantly enveloped the face with a cool breeze, and the aromas of meadow grasses, flowers, and steamed earth, driven by it, filled the lungs with extraordinary calm and joy. They were walking along an ancient stony road that ran like a gray trickle between green fields, vineyards, farms, and other agricultural lands that were abundant in the suburbs of Forli. There were many other farms in the area, most of them worked for Giovani da Chiesa. Forli was one of the largest cities in the county of Bologna. The capital was considered to be Bologna itself, or rather the new city, which was built on the site of the old one. Old Bologna was almost completely destroyed during the Second Coming. Forli also was badly damaged, but already a hundred years after the Coming, people began to settle within the boundaries of the ancient city. Now Forli is a prosperous province, ruled by one of the sons of Count Giuseppe Grasso, whose family rules in Bologna. At the monastery of Saints Peter and Paul, which is considered one of the oldest in northern Italy, because the ancient part of the monastery was built long before the Second Coming, they got into a cart that went to the main square of Forli – the center of all city trade, and as you know, Italy lives by trade. If you walk, you can get to the city in two hours, well, it will take 30-40 minutes by horse, thankfully the ancient roads were very convenient for driving. On the way, Margaret and Alessia discussed the local news. Marzio pretended not to pay attention to this, but he noticed useful information for himself. So he found out that the crusaders from the Scarlet Order came from Genoa to eradicate heresy. Previously, the territory of Bologna and Lombardy was under the jurisdiction of the Order of the Hospitallers, but now the "black" knights are busy with affairs in the east. A rumor came that ambassadors from the Kingdom of Romania reported that hordes of nomads from the steppes of Ukraine had struck and plundered their lands under the flag of a certain "Volga Bulgaria". The counties of Galicia have already fallen, and Romania has lost almost all of its territories. It is not surprising that Liechtenstein is preparing for war in the east. For several years, the "Alpine Empire" has been expanding its borders at the expense of neighboring lands. This worries the population a little, and especially the Pope of Corsica-Alonzo I Mosovie. Cardinal-Vicar Leonce Garrel ordered the knights to be sent to Lombardy and Bologna to fulfill their holy duty and help the Hospitaller brothers to cleanse the land of heresy. Roughly speaking, now Bologna and Lombardy are under the jurisdiction of the Scarlet Order or – if it is correct – the Order of the Holy See. The Scarlet Order is a personal order of Corsica and it is strictly subordinate to the Pope of Corsica or the cardinals. This means that their power will be tough and righteous.
The counties have long ago begun to withdraw from the guardianship of Liechtenstein and, while Veneto and Slovenia are full vassals of Liechtenstein, Lombardy and Bologna are only partially. Count Giuseppe Grasso is a lazy and vicious man who only fills his belly and debauches. He does not care whether he is under the patronage of Liechtenstein or the Pope, so any rich gentleman could take possession of Bologna. The Count of Lombardy Cecilio Pelagatti is a very "slippery" fellow. He skillfully balanced between Liechtenstein and the Pope of Corsica, on whose behalf the union of Genoa and Pisa acted. Italians from the west have long argued with their eastern brothers. Veneto is a direct competitor of Genoa and Pisa, and Slovenia, which is also an ally of the Venetian Crown, also feuded with the Kingdom of Pisa and the Kingdom of Genoa. The former Pope did not approve of the open war between Christians. Everything ended in skirmishes and "trade wars" with backstage games, but the tension only intensified. Bologna and Lombardy changed hands and constant trade competition was able to strengthen the economy of the counties well. The church was also very worried about the expansion of Liechtenstein. The "Alpine Empire" was larger than any Italian kingdom. Only the Kingdom of Aragon-Castile, which was on friendly terms with Pisa and Genoa, could argue with the primacy. Thus, two unions were formed: Holy Corsica and Sardinia, Genoa, Pisa, Aragon-Castile and Andora, and in contrast to Liechtenstein, Veneto, Slovenia, Bavaria, and the Czech Republic. Neutral remained: the kingdom of Monaco, which divided Genoa and Aragon-Castile, the kingdom of San Marino, which was busy with southern Italy which was always at war within itself and barbarians, and conditionally neutral Bologna and Lombardy, which changed hands. Some people said that all this was just an open confrontation between the "Papal Islands" and the "Alps", but this is just a rumor. For ordinary people like Marzio, Alessia and Margaret, it meant almost nothing. Giovani will still trade with everyone, and Alessia will still sell her herbs. About Margaret, the abbess of the convent, there's nothing to say.
Meanwhile, they were already entering the city limits. Some buildings of the ancient era are still preserved in Forli. Many of them were rebuilt houses of ancient times, others made from the remains of these houses. The churches that were restored several centuries ago stood out especially against their background – the entire Forli was full of them. A large stone wall was built around the city, which served as the border of Forli from 1145 to 1359. After that, the city significantly expanded beyond the walls. The center of the city was considered to be the Saffi Square and the nearby Palazzo Comunale and the Abbey of San Mercuriale. The residence of Grasso is located in the ancient citadel of Ravaldino. Many elements in the city, in addition to roads, reminded of its past: for example, many workshops, barracks, blacksmiths, gardens, were located in large well-maintained ruins, which sometimes had such a scale that it was difficult to imagine what had been in them before.
The cart reached a small square outside the city walls, in the center of which was a small brick tower of indeterminate significance. No one remembered why the ancients built it, but it continued to stand as a monument of the past near the shopping malls. Here Marzio said goodbye to his mother and Aunt Margaret, and he went to the warehouse of Giovani, where he worked as an accountant. Giovani trusted the boy, so he entrusted such important work with numbers, with which Marzio was quite able to cope.
'Hello, Marzio,' the plump woman, who kept the keys to the shop and warehouse, greeted him.
'Hello, Miss Rosalia.'
'Hold the keys, Giovani will be here after lunch.'
'Thank you, Miss, Rosalia.'
Opening the doors, Marzio entered the shop, removed the shutters, and turned over the sign that read "Open". Having taken his place, he began to work: he checked whether everything was in place, and put this in the report that he issued every day, recording transactions and the availability of goods at the beginning and end of the day. Hearing footsteps, Marzio stopped looking at the shop and froze while waiting for customers. For a few minutes, he watched a floating fly in the room. Having nothing better to do, Marzio kept his eyes fixed on the insect. For some reason, the young man compared himself, and not only himself, but all people, with a fly in a particular case and flies in general. Here she is small-flying herself in this closed room and probably does not guess where she is and what everything around means. She just needs to find food and another fly to lay eggs, and they don't care about the rest. But if some fly suddenly decides to think and at some point gets up in place and starts thinking, then for sure it will soon be eaten or nailed by someone. But if she decides to fly away and see the world, she will also die soon, because the outside world is so dangerous. Marzio was interrupted by these thoughts because he heard a noise outside the door.
'Hello, Marzio,' said an old man, entering the doorway, followed by a boy who was straining to carry a large bag on his back.
'Hello, Mr. Mellony, hello, Henry.' having strained and put a bag on the scales, answered the boy with a heavy sigh, dripping with sweat, and slightly catching his breath.
'Hel…lo, Marzio,' Henry replied, looking down at the bag.
Marzio looked at the scales. It was 35 kilograms.
'35 kg of grain, and you are strong, Henry.' Henry ignored what Marzio said and went towards the exit.
'And there are 12 such bags, Marzio,' Melloni said. Thinking about the difficult fate of Henry Marzio sighed and began to calculate. The payment was made in silver coins containing 60% pure metal, 1 bag is worth 180 silver coins or 1 gold and eight silver, that is, 2160 silver or 21 gold and 60 silver... Before he could finish, the strained Henry, walking heavily, was dragging the second bag onto the platform with the scales.
'21 gold and 60 silver, sir, Melloni. I have no money; I will give you a receipt with the seal of the Merchant of the Chiesa Guild.'
'All right, Marzio, then write off the purchase of seeds for 60 silver from that amount.' After handing over the receipt, Marzio began to watch Henry schlepping himself back and forth.
When he finished, Marzio checked the weight again and changed the platforms for seeds, confirming that everything was correct, he turned to the Miller.
'Mr. Melloni, why do you sell grain and not flour?'
'We have one baker for the whole city, and this is my brother-in-law, no one needs so much flour, and anyone, who wants can contact me; and my son deals with grain.'
'Mmm, I see, thank you, 8 bags of seeds each of 20 kg.'
'Henry, load them into the cart,' Melloni said. Henry looked hard at the bags, and then at Marzio, lowered his head and wandered towards the scales, taking one with him.
'I'll leave a note for my brother-in-law. Good luck to you, Marzio Variatle.'
After that, there were no visitors. After dinner, Giovani Chieso, the shopkeeper, came in.
'Good morning, Marzio,' he said.
'It's already lunchtime,' Marzio said casually, glancing at the counter.
'Yes, yes, The early bird catches... ehhh, a lot of works. What do we have today?'
'Mr. Mellony came by, we made a deal, he left a note with his brother-in-law. We owe him 21 gold coins, and we also exchanged 60 for seeds. Moreover, there is not enough in the warehouses – 160 kg from 200 kg of seeds and in addition we have 420 kg of grain to the 100 available.'
'Yeah, we have 40 kg of seeds and 520 grains, hmm... let's take care of the grain, then. I'll be back in a couple of hours with a cart, we'll sell grain in Genoa, if there is no buyer in the district, they have tension with food there, the fields are empty. They are militarizing there again. There is no one to work in the fields – all the peasants have been taken away as recruits: they say that some kind of campaign is going to be held in the colonies. They say that the barbarians are raging again. And maybe there will be a war not in the colonies – who could know! The most important thing for us is not to be touched, and after us, the flood, even a drought – we even benefit! Okay, I have been talking too much, come on, Marzio. Here are 21 gold pieces, give them to Pantera at the bakery.
After that, Marzio left, noticing that Henry had spilled grain in some places. He petted a cat: the red-haired with white spots purring beauty, who protected the warehouse from rodents and went back behind the shop. Then the time passed lazily and slowly: a couple more people came in with small matters which Marzio entered in a book, and the rest of the time, roughly speaking, he was idle. Having nothing to do, the young man drew different images on unnecessary sheets with a piece of charcoal: old Margaret turned out to be a caricature, like Mr. Giovani, the landscapes came out very mediocre and looked more like a sketch, but Marzio's portrait of his mother turned out quite well. He thought about it himself, and others noticed his talent in drawing, but there was no master nearby, so there was no one to teach Marzio. After waiting until evening, he closed the shop and gave the keys to Miss Rosalia. Not having time to move away from the building, Marzio saw a fool running along the road, who shouted indistinctly. As the sick man ran past, Marzio saw something approaching in his direction.
A group of people was walking from the fields. They were hurrying to the city center. A bitty crowd of peasants was moving along the road, hooting, and shouting. One of the peasants touched Marzio, which prompted him to ask about what was happening:
'What's going on here?' one of the peasants stopped.
'A wonderful event! There the order conducts an auto-da-fé, an actus fidei, an act of faith!
'«An act of faith? » And what is it?' asked Marzio.
'What is it!?' a discouraged villager asked with a side glance at the boy. Marzio realized that his ignorance of the Bible was about to be revealed, and in order to get out of the situation, he needed to answer something.
'I've been in the shop all day; how do I know: «what is it? »' - Marzio asked emphatically.
'Hmm, indeed, you definitely can't read. The public punishment of heretics. A rare event in our pious lands. According to rumors: they will burn a witch, punish an apostate and punish foreign thieves.'
Marzio was worried: he had a bad feeling, excitement was written on his face
'I see you are already in anticipation, don't worry, come with us. We'll make it in time. You, as I see, have never been to such large-scale events. Okay, let's go.'
The whole Forli was full of people: so there was a real commotion in the crowded streets as if a fair or a circus had arrived in the city. It seemed that the entire area was flocking to the city center. People closed their shops and went to the square, or, like Marzio's companions, hurried from the rural areas. Caught up in a violent stream, Marzio was thrown into the central square. From afar he just noticed the flashing of scarlet banners with white crosses and indistinct shouts. Approaching closer to the center, squeezing through the seething, frenzied crowd, Marzio almost collided with riding horsemen who were making their way through the crowd. They were knights of the "Scarlet Order": formidable horsemen in red robes with white crosses, armed with spears. Three horsemen rode past Marzio, who seemed to be struck by lightning. Regaining his consciences, Marzio rushed to his mother's shop, pushing aside onlookers.
Alessia's shop was located a couple of blocks from the central square – a pretty decent place, which Giovani helped her with. Alessia sold herbs and was engaged in healing, but she was not particularly popular, which was to her advantage. For several minutes, Marzio was making his way against the flow of people to his mother's shop – he prayed, which he did quite rarely, that his mother would sit quietly at her counter and that everything would be all right with her. When he reached the required house, Marzio was stunned: the door of the shop was open, the windows were broken, and the sign was lying on the pavement. Two city guards were standing nearby, and there was movement inside the shop.
'What's happened here?!' Marzio exclaimed.
'The Inquisition has exposed the witch who traded here,' a guard replied lazily. Marzio immediately turned pale: all his bad assumptions immediately turned out to be the bitter truth, his legs immediately gave way, he wanted to howl, but a lump approached his throat and he could not squeeze out a sound. Then two knights came out of the shop: their faces were covered with helmets, in their hands, one carried a medium-sized box with Alesiya's things, the other was empty-handed. They shamelessly were taking over Alessia's shop, which caused Marzio's despair and anger.
'We're done with this. Now we need to cordon off the area and clean it up,' the knight's order was heard, 'Guards! Do not let anyone pass to the shop!' a knight stopped, looking around the square, after which the guards crossed their halberds at the doorway.
'Hey, you peasants, disperse!' The knight shouted in the direction of Marzio. He did not notice how a small group of onlookers formed behind him. It wasn't that they were interested, it was just that there was congestion on the road that hindered the movement. Marzio did not know what to do: it was not possible to break into the shop, and it was unlikely that there was anything left there. Mr. Giovani had to be found – he certainly knew what was going on here.
'Hey, man, do you need a special invitation?' The knight addressed Marzio. Because of his thoughts, Marzio did not even notice that the guards had already frightened the crowd, and the congestion had been dispersed.
'Hey, this is Marzio the son of Alecia Variatle!' someone from the crowd shouted.
'Variatle!?' the knight asked out loud.
'So the witch doctor turned out to be a witch!'
'Exactly! Variatle is a witch!' voices were heard from the crowd.
'This guy, he's a son of the witch!'
Then everything happened in the blink of an eye: people pushed him to the pavement, causing him to lose his balance, but before he fell, he received a kick in the belly, then they began to hit him with their hands and feet. The overwhelming pain immediately engulfed the young man, and he lost consciousness. Marzio woke up already in the square, along which he was dragged by the guards. He could feel the blood flowing down his forehead, and the rest of his body was terribly sore. He did not raise his head because of the pain, but he clearly heard everything that was happening in the square. Through the noise of the crowd, the words of the herald could be heard, «Robert Schalf is accused of idolatry and apostasy! By the power and authority of the holy Church given by the Lord, he is sentenced to civil execution: deprivation of all the privileges of the estate and hanging. All his property, valued at 2000 gold, is transferred to the order in payment for services.» There were whispers in the square: someone condemned the criminal, someone marveled at his amount, and someone prayed loudly. The hum rose so strong that the guards began to shout: «Silence! Quiet!» After that, the herald coughed loudly and continued, «Julio Beloni is a robber who encroached on the property of the Lord and was caught by the pious order. For his heinous deeds, he is sentenced to one hundred lashes of a horsewhip. A certain Rowan spread heresy among the peasants, is sentenced to wheel-driving. Valadars, an alien recidivist and a murderer, is sentenced to be wheeled. As well as a witch who uses diabolical methods for treatment and healing Alessia Variatle is sentenced to burning.»
There was silence after these words. Marzio continued to be dragged somewhere. The fact that his name was not mentioned somewhat encouraged the young man, but the aching pain in his heart about his mother, saddened him more than the beatings. After a while, someone shouted:
'I knew it! I knew that she was a witch, when she treated my brother, he could not do anything, even pray, and so he laid for a week, she drained the power out of him!'
'But your brother is now more alive than all the living!' he was answered from the crowd.
'Burn her – Quit making noise!'
'Who cares, it's just a healer.'
'What proof do you have of her sin?'
The crowd was roaring.
'The artifacts of the ancients and the medicines of the evil one are in her shop and are proofs!' the herald announced. The people burst out with arguments: everyone knew that Alessia treated in strange ways, different from other healers, but most found a cure for their ailment from her. But this did not save her from the devilry that she was engaged in. While the whole square was quarreling over the Variatle family, Marzio was dragged into some task, and then, going down a dark staircase, they threw him into a damp basement.
'Marzio,' his mother's voice whispered in Marzio's head.
'Mom!' he came to his senses.
'Marzio, you're covered in blood. These monsters beat you up...,' Marzio opened his eyes and tried to look up. Though with difficulty, he managed to sit down on the cold floor of the cell, covered with straw.
'You can't get up so abruptly!' Alessia was worried.
'We should treat the wounds, and apply ice to the head.'
'I'm fine, Mom,' Marzio did not pay attention to the pain at all, the sight of his mother gave him great suffering. The knights made a good mockery of her, too.
'Mom, why did the Crusaders break into us? You were good at hiding artifacts!'
'I don't know, my dear. Probably, someone denounced me or it's evil intent. You'd better listen to me: we have a package behind the icon of the Virgin, you must get it and take it with you.'
'Will that save you?' said Marzio.
'No,' Alessia said firmly. 'This will save you. I'm sure they'll let you out. Giovani won't be able to get me out, but he'll help you.'
'But what about you?' Marzio didn't understand.
'This was bound to happen sooner or later,' Amelia said, drooping. 'But you have to escape! Find your father, it's not so easy, but you can send him a letter. I know that he has acquaintances in Venice, and he must be somewhere in Hungary. Tell him everything, he should help you.'
'But Mom!' Marzio began to cry.
'Remember, you must keep all my notes and diaries, there is a lot of information in them. I pass all my work on to you. I've taught you everything I know, you're ready to take care of yourself. Also, save all the artifacts and do not tell anyone about them. Run to Veneto, it's safe there.'
Marzio could no longer hold back his tears.
'Don't cry! You're a man!' Alessia's own eyes began to water. She hugged her son and began to cry with him.
'I'm sorry about that, Marzio. My thirst for knowledge has ruined me. I don't want you to get hurt like that. But, please, save my works, after all, they are my whole life.'
'Yes, Mother...,' Marzio replied.
Then there was a noise outside the door. Someone was cursing softly.
'Martin, hurry up, you, old ass, we have to get Marzio out before the order comes here.'
'Ohh, we will have problems, Giovani, we are almost stealing a criminal out from under them, I am just an old burgomaster. The Lord will be angry!'
'The lord understands better than we do what this order does, it's all my fault, I won't be able to do anything under the protection of the guild.'
'Tell that to Robert, I don't want to lose another old friend.'
'Make way for the young, Martin. Open up!'
The door opened: on the threshold stood the terrified wide-eyed with wonder burgomaster Martin, he also had a huge aquiline nose and gray hair. Behind him stood a sweating Giovani, and beside them were two completely catatonic guards.
'Come on, Marzio! Faster...,' Giovani said with shortness of breath.
'Alessia, my dear, I tried to dissuade the order, but they are in no way. They've got some damn plan they're sticking to. Santa Maria, our business is bad!'
'Run, Marzio! Remember what I told you!'
'Yes, Mother!' Marzio rushed to his mother.
'Go, Marzio,' his mother hugged him goodbye and stroked his head.
'Please remember me happy, and not like this.'
'Ahem,' Martin coughed.
'Let's go,' Giovani said, looking at Martin, and pulled Marzio by the hand.
'Hurry up, Marzio!'
Tearful, beaten and, seems broken, but at the same time smiling – this was the last time Marzio saw his mother in his life.
'We need to hurry up!' said Giovani. The Knights will deal with the rest of the prisoners first, so we have time.
'He needs to get out of town!' said Martin.
'I know,' Giovani snapped. We'll take him to Margaret for a while, and then we'll send him out of town.
'I need to go home and get my things,' Marzio added.
'We'll make it,' Giovani said.
The world seemed to collapse. Mr. Martin and Giovani almost dragged poor Marzio through the corridors. They left the back entrance of the town hall and headed through small alleys away from the city center. On the square, the crowd could be heard raging-the first convicts had already begun to be executed. Marzio did not pay any attention to this – the shock broke him, and the face of his mother remained before his eyes, and her last instructions were spinning in his memory. Tears randomly rolled down one by one from the eyes. Soon they came to one of the central streets, where a ready-made carriage was waiting. The three of them got into the carriage, and the carriage started off. While Martin and Giovani were arguing about something, Marzio was still sitting with his downcast eyes. They arrived quickly: once at the Variatle house, Giovani and Marzio got out of the carriage. Margaret was waiting for them on the threshold of the house, crying.
'Stop the knights, if they suddenly catch themselves!' said Giovani to Martin, who remained in the carriage.
'Certainly,' the old man replied. Good luck to you, Marzio,' he turned to the young man. Then the carriage still quickly sped back.
Margaret wiping her tears with a handkerchief said:
'Oh, poor, poor child! What a misfortune, what grief!'
'That's enough for you, Mrs. Colombo,' Giovani said soothingly. Tears won't help here. We need to save the boy!
'Yes," Margaret said, trying to calm down. Dear God, they also beat the boy,' she hugged the drooping Marzio.
'The Lord never gives us trials beyond our strength...,' Margaret whispered.
'We have to hurry!' Giovani urged her.
'Yes!' Margaret came to her senses abruptly and went into the house. Giovani and Marzio followed her.
'The knights have not yet managed to manage here, and now the house will belong to the monastery, so I will not allow looting. Marzio, you have to pack your things! I'll help you pack your camping bag with supplies for now. Also, give me all of Alessina's artifacts – I will hide them safely in the monastery.'
'Hurry up, Marzio!' added Giovani. 'I'll prepare everything for your escape in the meantime, so you'll have to leave the city quietly. I'll be back soon, Mistress Margaret!' with these words, he left.
Marzio went up to his room. The shock had not yet passed, besides, his head and body ached after the beating, but despite this, he did not make unnecessary movements. He dumped all his personal belongings on the bed, then he pulled out a crossbow and a quiver with bolts from the chest, he grabbed Aunt Margaret's book and a dagger from a desk. Then he took off his soiled clothes and put on his hiking suit: leather boots, gray trousers, a white shirt with sleeves, a blue-green tunic, a belt, and a raincoat. The simple belongings were collected – then it was worth taking care of mother's things.
Going down to the first floor with his things, Marzio put them on the table, and he went to the basement, where his mother had a small alchemical laboratory. It was not possible to take everything with him, so Marzio took only the most valuable artifacts that could serve him on the road. Having collected everything necessary, Marzio returned again to the living room, where Margaret had already prepared food for the journey and began to pack the rest of the young man's things, a woman's hand did it much more skillfully. Marzio went to his mother's room, where Alecia's main records were kept, as well as her secret place. Behind the large icon of the Virgin above the bed, there was a small hole in the wall, in which lay the most important book of Alessia, in which she recorded all her works. Marzio also took his mother's diary on the desk, a bag of family jewels, a portrait of his father and mother, as well as her letters. Quite a lot of things were coming out, but Marzio was sure that he would not return to his house again, so he had to save as much as possible. The tears had already dried on his cheeks, and he did not pay attention to the body's pain, but his heart was shrinking with every step, and his soul seemed to be all dried up and demanded moisture.
Having loaded all his belongings on himself, with the grumbling and sighing of old Margaret, Marzio was ready to go. It turned out like this: Margaret equipped him with a bag, in which she put bread, two onions, two apples, a piece of dried meat, three potatoes, as well as a flask of water. To all this, Marzio put a quiver with bolts on his belt and put a crossbow in a case on his back. But the heaviest burden was a travel bag, in which he put all the artifacts and records of his mother. It contained: three books, a heavy apparatus that the mother assured him worked, a certain device for transmitting energy – the heaviest of things, a bunch of threads of unknown material that were attached to a large device, an eternal lantern powered by a special mechanism, a compass, as well as a saint Geiger device, which Alessia said would be able to warn against invisible danger. Marzio spent another minute arranging all the things more comfortably on himself. When Marzio was ready, he said goodbye to his native house and went out into the street.
It would soon be dusk, but the air, heated during the day, seemed hot and stuffy. The previous breeze had died down, so it was calm outside. Thick clouds hung over the ground, and a barely noticeable black column rose above the city. Giovani had already arrived at Variatle's house. He got down from his carriage and ran, panting either from excitement or from running, to Marzio.
'Ready? Now listen to me carefully,' Chiesa looked intently into his eyes, it was obvious that he was very excited. 'A caravan passes by the city: these days old Robert was supposed to join it, but you will go instead of him. Through the mills you will get to the main road passing south of here – there you will wait for a caravan at the intersection, hurry up, you may not have time. Here, before I forget: the merchant's sign!' He gave Marzio a badge in the form of a silver shamrock, 'This will give you the opportunity to cross borders and stay in cities for the night. The caravan itself goes to the city of Ravenna, and from there you can get to Veneto, bypassing Bologna. Margaret said that it is even worse in the capital than in our country. In Venice, you can contact your father, here, take it,' Giovani handed over a sealed letter with the seal of the merchant guild, 'You will send this to your father as soon as possible – everything is written in detail there. Here, take some more gold,' he gave Marzio a heavy bag, 'There is not much here, but at the same time, it is not little. That's enough for the first time, but then you'll have to take care of yourself. Remember, the caravan is led by Gustave Gevalier, tell him that you are from Chiesa, and he will give you a place in the caravan,' Marzio nodded.
'Margaret and I will hide all Alessia's things for now – soon the knights will come with the crowd when they have enough fun in the square. Now run, son.'
'God bless you!' Margaret added.
They hugged each other, and then Marzio walked quickly south to the road. It was not a long walk, but the young man was in a hurry – an inner force, a cross between anger and despair, drove him away from his old life. There was also a fear that the Crusaders might catch up with him, and then it would be very difficult to get out of it. Being a fugitive and almost a criminal – Marzio did not smile much, but the situation was hopeless. «I had to hope for my luck and for the mercy of my father, who had yet to be found, which only sounded simple in words. First, we need to escape from Forli, and then think about the plan with a sober head. If only Mr. Giovani and Margaret could hide everything from the knights» With these thoughts, Marzio passed the mills and went out on the road. The sun was sinking: the breeze had fallen asleep, and the brass sky was causing despair. After standing alone for a short time, Marzio saw a caravan approaching. Without waiting for him to reach it, Marzio himself ran up to the wagons, waving his hands.
'Good evening! I'd like to find Mister Gevalier, I'm from Mister Giovani,' Marzio shouted to the nearest coachman. The thin man waved his hand back:
'A green cart.'
The caravan stopped. The guards, who at first looked at Marzio incredulously, soon noticed the shiny sign of the merchant guild on the cape and lost all interest in the young man. The green wagon was the third in a row from the head of the column. When he reached her, Marzio asked the coachman.
'Are you Mr. Gevalier?' to which the groom laughed and replied with a smile
'Mister Gevalier is in the carriage,' and he knocked on the back of his seat. The curtain of the carriage opened, and a powdered man dressed in a luxurious blue jacket leaned out of it, smiling sleepily asked:
'Who would you be, boy?'
'I'm Marzio Variatle, Mr. Gevalier, I'm from Mr. Chiesa.'
'Hmm, I didn't think that Giovani would send a boy to the caravan, we were waiting for Robert.'
'Mr. Schalf was executed by the Order today.'
'Yes?! Gevalier asked with interest. What was he accused of?'
'Of the worship of idols and apostasy,' the spellbound boy answered him, looking at him with empty eyes. That made Gevalier feel uneasy, but he was still able to answer:
'But he is under the protection of the guild, what right did the order have to touch him?'
'He was stripped of his membership' Marzio continued absently, thereby bringing Gevalier into a stupor.
'All right... It's a long way to go, boy,' the head of the caravan answered him thoughtfully.
'Get inside, we won't detain the others.'
Marzio climbed into the cart as quickly as possible. Then there were shouts from the coachmen, and the caravan started again. The interior of the cart was quite comfortably arranged: Mister Gevalier was sleeping on a spread blanket right on top of the chests, with which almost the entire space was filled. Marzio modestly put his belongings on the floor, and he carefully settled himself on one of the chests.
'Well, tell me, kid, what brings you to Ravenna?'
'I told you about Mr. Robert...'
'I understand that,' interrupted Gevalier.
'I'm curious why were you chosen for the trip?' Marzio thought for a while and answered.
'I inspire confidence in Mr. Giovani: I worked a lot for him. You see, I can count and write, especially since my family has worked for him for a long time.'
'Ahhh! So you are literate, it's interesting!' exclaimed Gevalier.
'Nowadays it is difficult to find competent employees. Old Jim has settled in well if he has such educated young people,' Here Gevalier drew attention to the battered appearance of Marzio in every sense.
'Where did you get this?' he pointed to the bruise on his forehead. Marzio was embarrassed.
'I suppose they didn't share something with the peasant boys or someone?' Gevalier grinned. Marzio was silent.
'By the way, my name is Gustav, and you?'
'Marzio.'
'And the last name?' Marzio hesitated a little, but still decided to say because he didn't think that Gevalier could know about what had happened.
'Variatle. Marzio Variatle.'
'Well, then, Marzio. Welcome to adulthood.'
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Rise of the Lich!
He had a good life, well at least until it was taken from him. Follow the story of a man who lost everything and now strives for revenge! ...kinda. Light Spoiler: It's basicly a story in which someone becomes an Undead after he died, enjoy!
8 464The Fall
Perhaps the most well known of all devils, demons, or fallen angels is the one known as Lucifer, Satan, the Father of Lies. The cultural influence of this figure throughout history is by no means small. Despite that, it wasn’t until the time of Milton’s classic – Paradise Lost – that we saw an attempt to portray a dramatized version of the events leading to this figure’s fall from grace and power. And while this is the case, Paradise Lost is not about Lucifer – though it goes into great detail about his potential musings. No, Paradise Lost was, and still is, about the fall of mankind. So, in light of this, and the feeling that the classical story deserved another telling, I present to you all The Fall – a story focused particularly on Lucifer’s fall from grace and his musings both before and after.
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8 76Dragon Spirit
In a time of War and Strife, a dragon is born into the World. Kind, Fearless, and completely inexperienced, he battles his way up the evolutionary ladder. Always growing stronger, he sets out to explore his wide world, keeping his friends close, and decimating any who dare to be his enemies. Read on as he meets many creatures, talks back to doting Gods, and slays countless other beasts on his way to reach his destiny! Written by a brand new author, this is a mainly light-hearted adventure story. It’s really not following one distinct genre, instead incorporating fantasy, game worlds, reincarnation, Xia-Xia, and potentially some romance ( ; - D) into a story. Release schedule of about 2-3 chapters a week. Comments and questions are always welcome!
8 192Hooks Raven{Peter Pan}
Raven is Captain Hooks daughter. Part fairy, she is the only one able to match Peter Pan and his band of Lost Boys. Which is ideal because she has a debt to settle with their leader. Eight years after vowing to see Peter Pan at the end of her blade, she is unexpectantly captured by the Lost Boys and taken to their hideout. Stranger yet, her father doesn't come looking for her and no amount of sarcastic quips will get her free.She finds an unexpected friendship with those she once swore to destroy, unexpected love for a boy she once despised. She finds out who her mother is. But when Peters hideout is attacked by the pirates she once commanded, Raven has to choose. Will she fight with her new family or will she be true to her people and fight by their side against those she loves?**A/N- This is not a Once Upon A Time fanfiction, it's based on the original Peter Pan and is set in the 1900s.**
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