Vespro: a Dark Fantasy, Witch-Hunting Novel

Chapter 1.3



Nene trembled, her exposed skin instantly felt tender. She felt like her chest was being compressed by an invisible force. The cold took hold of her already-soaked leg. Every part of her body begged her to stop, to flee. She took a deep breath, stepped over the edge of the tub, and dipped her other leg. She began to shiver, from fear or the cold, it was hard to tell. It was so difficult for her to focus, to remember why she was undergoing such suffering: for Master Arbe, the man she had saved. For the salvation of her own soul, after taking a person's life. God did not tolerate the murder of the innocents, nor forgave those who killed without remorse. Nene was supposed to prove her good intentions with penance.

She sobbed. She felt humiliated, weak, and about to shatter. She wiped her tears, looked at the ceiling, and dived in. The icy water submerged her up to the shoulders. For a moment she felt nothing, but then, suddenly, the cold hit her. She felt her insides contract and ache, so much so that she bent over. She waited a few moments, trembling, so she had been taught. The pain she was experiencing was nothing compared to that of the man she had killed.

She was about to pass out. She looked up. She had left a chair next to the tub, on which the instrument of her penance was lying: the sacred cilice. She rose to grab it. Her hand was shaking terribly. Her fingers struggled to find the strength to get a hold of the object. She brought it to her chest, holding it with both hands, as if it were the holy cross, and began to pray.

«God, I prostrate before You…», she sobbed. «Forgive my weakness, grant me reconciliation»

She stretched out her arms, ready to strike. Her mind told her to stop. Survival instincts prompted her to take the easy way out. She closed her eyes and whipped her own back. The pain paralyzed her. She was left in shock. After a moment, she started moaning. Her back felt as if broken, while the rest of her body was freezing. She felt the cuts on her skin and tried not to think what they must have looked like. Tears blurred her vision.

«Release me…»

Her sobs made it difficult to speak. It wasn't time to cry yet. She tried to get a hold of herself.

«Release me… from my wrongdoings. Grant me mercy»

She readied to hit once more. The second time, she knew exactly what awaited her, how awful it was. Terror pinned her arms. She didn't want to keep going anymore. She wanted it over, she wanted to give up everything and…

To lose her soul?

She chased away the blasphemous thought, grit her teeth, and struck herself as hard as she could. She shouted.

She breathed heavily. The pain in her back was unbearable. She almost no longer felt the cold, such was the pain.

She readied the third hit. her words were barely understandable.

«Grant me peace… even in the face of… the greatest sin»

She hit herself with the third and final lash. She dropped the cilice into the water. She arched her shoulders, braced herself with both arms on either side of the tub, and screamed again. She heard a knock on the door. Father Cosco had instructed the herbalist, telling them to wait for Nene to open the door, and to not enter for any other reason. However, hearing her cries, they must have become suspicious. Nene burst into tears. It was a terrible rite, the purification. She tried to pull herself out of the tub, sobbing and shaking, but she couldn't. She was so weakened.

«Help», she whispered.

The stranger knocked again. A muffled voice came from outside.

«W-what's going on in there? May I come in?»

Nene's breaths were short and quick. She felt her strength leaving her. With every moment she risked more and more not to get out of that tub. She focused and inhaled deeply.

«Help!», she shouted.

The door swung open. With blurry eyes, she could barely make out a human figure, who hesitated a moment before running towards her.

«Oh… Oh my God! What…»

«Help…»

She let her head drop and closed her eyes. She felt the herbalist grab her by the arms. The pain flared up again. Even the slightest contact felt like it could break her bones. As if that weren't enough, the cold didn't want to let go of her body, even though she was no longer in the water.

«Oh dear, oh dear…», the herbalist stuttered. «Come. You have to lie down»

She was dragged to the bed. Her wet skin hurt at the contact with the blanket. She had hoped to feel warmth, but no blanket could make her feel better. On top of that, it was hard for her to breathe, her face lay dead weight on the bed.

The herbalist noticed. They grabbed her head gently, lifted it, turned to the side, and put it on a pillow. The contact with that hand made her boggle.

«I'll have to treat you, before you can warm up», they explained. «Otherwise it c-could cause an infection. Hold on»

Nene's muscles were still stiff from the cold. She heard the herbalist rummaging, and sounds of glass and metal clanging. Then they approached her again, and sat down on the bed beside her.

«I'm afraid it will be unpleasant for you. But trust me, it won't take long, and you'll be better off»

Nene rolled her eyes and managed to focus: a young woman was bending over her, her expression was shocked, still her gaze deeply focused. She felt so vulnerable having her battered back exposed to that stranger. The woman rested a hand near a wound. She moaned and started shaking.

«Don’t be afraid», the herbalist told her. «I will apply a liniment. It will hurt a little, but you’ll see, it will be worth it»

She closed her eyes, hoping she was right. She gritted her teeth, ready for the worst. She felt a cold sensation and winced once more. Something soft and oily was being smeared on her skin. It itched, but not nearly as much as the cilice. The herbalist repeated the process on each of the cuts. Nene forced herself to keep breathing, praying it would soon be over.

«Done. Now I can bandage you. I'll help you sit up»

«I…I can't…», she complained.

«You are… so cold. You will get a fever at this r-rate. What to do? What to do?»

The woman started pacing around the room. Was she in a panic? Her life was in her hands, and she was panicking. Nene felt on the verge of despair.

It was at that moment that she felt the heat. She saw the herbalist face to face, an inch from her nose.

«F-forgive me, I was out of ideas. You're too weakened to go downstairs by the fire»

The herbalist lay down next to her. She wrapped them both in a second blanket and stood there, motionless, staring at her, embarrassed. Nene began to calm down. A slight warmth pervaded her. She closed her eyes and almost dozed off.

«Father Cosco told me not to enter», the herbalist said. «Shouldn't I have? I heard you s-scream so…»

«Thank you»

The young woman smiled at her. Her long, messy blond hair covered part of her face. She shoved them to one side. Doing so made her flushed face all the more obvious.

«I don't k-know the proper etiquette, in front of an Inquisitor. F-forgive me, I was concerned for your well-being…»

Nene was slowly recovering her strength and lucidity. She looked into her saviour's eyes, dark, large and deep, and veiled with tears. Was she worried about her that much?

«How do you know who I am?»

She was surprised by the confidential tone that came out of her. The woman smiled.

«Father Cosco explained everything to me. At least, I think… He told me that your presence here must remain a secret. I-I swear I won't tell anyone»

She nodded. It was understandable. How to explain what the herbalist had just witnessed, otherwise? If not a member of the Inquisition, only a fool would have whipped themselves like that.

«I really appreciate your help, master herbalist»

«Nila, my name is Nila. I-I'm… I'm just an apprentice. Unfortunately, my master was very busy, so…»

«I think I can sit up now»

Nila lifted the blanket. The fresh air made Nene shiver. Nila grabbed her shoulders, gently, and held her as she struggled to sit up.

«Why were you doing this to yourself?»

The herbalist covered her mouth, perhaps convinced she had said something inappropriate. She turned away from her and began rummaging through a large leather bag. She took out a roll of bandages.

«F-forgive me, I didn't mean to…»

«In order to repent», ​​she explained. «As an Inquisitor I bear the duty to purge the damned, yet God does not tolerate murder. With this rite, I invoke Its forgiveness and pray for the salvation of my soul»

«Is there no other way?»

She shook her head. The older Inquisitors always seemed hesitant to talk about the ritual of the cilice, and she finally understood why, but those were the Arcangel’s teachings and eternal salvation was priceless.

«The man I purged has been through worse for sure. This is the least I can do»

Nila stared at her, startled. She didn't seem to understand fully, nevertheless, she hadn't hesitated to help her, at first, and was even listening to her.

«Raise your arms. Can you do it?»

She did, causing her yet another smile. The woman began wrapping her back, covering her entire torso in bandages. Nene felt a slight itch upon first contact, however the pain seemed almost gone.

«What did you medicate me with?»

«A recipe from my master. Don't worry, it can heal much worse wounds in a few days. Once a woman was injured with…»

She stopped abruptly and scratched the back of her neck. For a few moments, she didn't say a word, then she resumed.

«I got carried away, f-forgive me»

«You don't need to be so obsequious towards me. I owe you a lot»

That woman was surely a disaster in terms of etiquette, although her presence made Nene feel at ease, in a way she never expected to. Inquisitor cadets were almost all orphans, and were raised in the Citadel. The Order was their family, so emotional ties were rare among them. She had never known such kindness but once. A lump in her throat made it difficult to breathe. Her lips began to tremble. Her vision blurred once more, her body began to shake. In an instant, she felt once again all the pain, fear, cold, and discomfort she had felt during the ritual. She burst into tears.

A hand caressed the back of her head. She turned around: Nila was watching her with concern. Emotions overwhelmed Nene, and she rested her head in her lap.

«I-Inquisitor, what…»

«Please», she whimpered. «Just a moment»

The herbalist kept caressing her head. Nene allowed herself to be lulled by her breath. Her clothes were surprisingly fine, cotton-made, a soft yellow, and smelled of musk. She was quite a bit taller than her, but for once she didn't care. For once, instead of feeling intimidated, she felt safe.

«Can you get up?»

Nene shook her head. Her sense of decency was gone, her feelings were out in the open. All she wanted was to be lulled by that sense of warmth.

«At least you should dry yourself and dress»

She trembled. She was at risk of getting sick. It might have been deadly, in a place so far from civilization. Reluctantly, she moved away from that embrace that she craved so much.

«I'm sorry», she said.

«It’s nothing. Now… I think I have something for you…»

Nila rummaged in her bag again. She pulled out a piece of cloth and stared at her.

«D-do you… want me to help you or…»

Nene squinted, trying to pull herself together. A sense of modesty struck her suddenly. She grabbed the cloth and used it to cover herself.

«No, thank you. I can do it myself»

«Sure. I'll wait for you out here. You should sit in front of the fire as soon as possible. Okay?»

She nodded. The herbalist smiled at her, gathered her things, and left. The room became suddenly silent and sad.

Nene held the cloth, still shaken. The sounds coming from downstairs, the shouting of the inn's customers, kept her to attention, enough not to fall back into despair. She began to dry her hair. She remembered the cadet baths at the Citadel, where they were forced to use them one at a time. She regretted her choice when she realized she desired the herbalist had stayed.

After drying off, she cautiously got to her feet. Her body was extremely weakened, yet she could walk on her legs. She looked around for the clothes Argor got her. She found them thrown in a corner: a rough brown cloth tunic and trousers of a similar material. At least they looked clean. Nene left the room. The noise from the door scared Nila, who was waiting for her in the narrow corridor, wrapped in dim light.

«How are you feeling?», she asked her.

She approached, her legs shaking. They exchanged a smile. Nila held out a hand.

«Where’s your bag?», Nene asked.

«I left it downstairs. Come, I'll help you»

She took her hand. Her steps were rather uncertain, but with surprise, she managed to walk somewhat easily. Perhaps what she needed most was some courage. They descended the narrow stairway very slowly. Nila led the way, turning to look at her after each step, and offering her hand again whenever she saw her falter. Nene felt embarrassed, figuring that she must have looked pathetic, but at the same time happy that someone so nice had come her way when she needed it most. They finally arrived at the hall of the inn. It was already evening, the young boy was back, and was standing behind the counter while chatting with two patrons. Other customers were sitting at tables scattered around the room. A scent of beer and boiled potatoes pervaded the room.

«This way»

Nila led her to the table in front of the fireplace, where she had sat with Father Cosco and Argor in the afternoon. The herbalist's bag lay nearby. She had thought of everything in advance.

«Thank you»

Nila helped her sit down. Nene leaned back very gently, fearing the pain. She surprisingly felt little more than an itch upon contact. Nila sat across her, even if she couldn't understand why.

«Please do not tell anyone what you have seen»

«Oh, no… Y-you need no worry. I won’t»

She breathed a sigh of relief. Hers was an undercover mission, but as more and more people were aware of it, the less the chances of its success were. She needed to make sure that that woman did not reveal her true identity to anyone.

«Remember also that I'm Nene, father Cosco's niece», she added in a low voice.

She nodded. Suddenly their roles seemed to have reversed. Nene had regained control of herself, while the herbalist seemed very agitated.

«Inq… Nene, can I ask you a question?»

«Go on»

The woman hesitated. Her delicate features were easy to read and her dark eyes were very expressive, as they darted left and right. She plumped up her colorful skirt, nervously.

«Are we in d-danger?»

«Um… You might. All the more reason to keep it a secret. I'll take care of everything»

Nila nodded again. Suddenly her eyes shot up behind Nene. She heard heavy footsteps and jumped.

«So, are you having fun?»

Argor towered over their table. The gigantic man abruptly dropped two steaming bowls of soup.

«Oh, Argor», the herbalist said. «T-thank you, but I don't have much money…»

«She’s my guest», Nene interjected.

«Sure, lil’ girl. Uncle pays anyway», the innkeeper said, grinning.

«B-but… you don't have to. My master…»

«I'll have to repay you for your services», she insisted.

«N-no, as I was saying, my master is against… accepting rewards»

Nene arched an eyebrow. perplexed: a competent herbalist in a remote place like that, who had a young, brilliant disciple, and neither of them was paid for their work? It felt unfair.

«You see, master Ezio is a generous man»

«And filthy rich», Argor added. «He owns half of the land nearby»

«How about you?» asked Nene.

Nila looked down. Argor cleared his throat, getting the attention of both.

«Listen, pipsqueak, why don't you ask Nila to take you around the village tomorrow?»

The two girls were dumbfounded. Nene was increasingly upset by the man's impudence. Argor had never shown any respect for her title since their first meeting anyway. Although she had to recognize that his was a decent idea. Play the part of the priest's niece sounded useful.

«What? She knows around». The man approached her and whispered. «The fewer people know who you are, the better, am I right? You can trust her»

«My, I was hoping you'd take me», she teased him.

The man burst out laughing. He raised a hand as if to pat her, but she flinched, startled, so he stopped.

«I- I'd like to help you», Nila finally spoke.

«Are you sure? You have already done so much for me»

Argor seemed suddenly bored with the discussion and walked away. Nene calmed down, seeing him disappear into the back of the building. She returned her attention to the soup: she hadn't eaten for over a day by then. Nila was watching her nervously. The smell of food clouded her mind. She took a spoonful. It was warm! The heat reached every corner of her still-shivering body, giving her a sense of relief. It didn't taste bad at all, but she couldn't make out the ingredients. Suddenly, she heard giggling.

«Oh, sorry», Nila said, as she held back a second laugh.

Nene realized she was eating even faster than she'd thought. She had gobbled half the bowl in an instant. Back at the Citadel, she would have been punished for such a lack of discipline. She sat upright again, trying to compose herself.

«Aren’t you eating?»

«I-I shouldn't…»

«Consider it a gift, if you like»

Nila buried her head between her shoulders. She was an enigmatic person, despite her harmless appearance. She must have been in her early twenties, and yet at times, she behaved quite childlike. It wasn't polite to insist, so Nene resumed eating.

«You know what brings me here, do you?»

«T-there's only one reason you could have come…»

«You’re right. I'm sorry, I thought… Well, it seemed to me that the people around here weren’t that much... well…»

«Most people don't have time to study, sadly. The winter is harsh, f-farmers have to accumulate as many stocks as possible each year, if we want to survive»

«Tell me more about the village. I noticed some unusual things»

«U-unusual? W-w-what do you mean?»

«A watermill and sawmill down the road, and now I’ve found a herbalist too»

Nene smiled. She also wanted to ask her about her unusually bourgeois clothes, but she didn’t, since Argor had deliberately diverted the conversation, just before. She didn't want to risk hurting the person who had rescued and cuddled her in a moment of despair.

«Oh, I see… I don't know much about them. They were there s-since before I was born»

«What about your master?»

«He studied in the Capital when he was young. He's teaching me the craft. He says that in places like this, there’s a need for someone who takes care of people»

Nila's eyes began to sparkle. It was obvious that she doted on her mentor, and she seemed to share his ideals. Nene admired their dedication to improving living conditions in such a poor region. She hoped that, one day, she too could speak so proudly of her deeds.

«Where do you come from?»

Nene frowned. She couldn't speak too openly or someone in the inn might have overheard. She was risking a lot in having that conversation. Still, she needed guidance, and Nila seemed reliable.

«I'd rather talk about it tomorrow», she replied softly.

The herbalist covered her mouth. She was awful at hiding her emotions. Was it a good idea to involve her?

«F-forgive me, I… I'll do my best, to help you»

«You sure are kind»

«Now, I gotta go…», she stood up. «I'll come here tomorrow to have a look at you. If you agree»

«I’m grateful. I'm counting on you»

She stared at Nila as she walked away.

She sighed. It had been a comfort to have a kind person around her. Perhaps the collaboration of that woman would have benefited the mission. She gobbled her soup and Nila's too. Even after that, she was still hungry. Every spoonful restored her good mood. Her situation was still uncertain and dangerous, but she couldn't help but smile: her stomach was full, she had lifted an enormous weight from her conscience with the purification ritual and she had found allies, despite everything.

«You eat a lot, you lil’ brat»

Argor appeared from behind her. Nene kept smiling, and the man seemed surprised.

«What's wrong with you? You were all snout before»

«I feel better now. Thanks for dinner»

The man looked at her, puzzled. He picked up the two empty bowls and was about to leave.

«Don't take advantage of Nila's kindness, brat. We all cherish her»

«I’m not taking advantage of her! It was you who came up with the idea!»

He nodded satisfied. Was he teasing her? Or maybe she was ignorant of something? She frowned and the innkeeper burst out laughing. He reached over her head and ruffled her hair. She wanted to yell at him, but had to play the priest's niece. Not to mention that she was staying under his roof.

«Now, that’s more like you. Also, listen, other customers have complained about certain noises, I think they came from your room…»

She felt mortified. During the ritual, someone had heard her. It was humiliating beyond belief, so much so that even Argor, despite being a rude man, had realised.

«Please try not to do that again, 'mkay?»

«It won't happen», she promised.

“Until I purge the next damned” she added to herself.

She needed to rest. She borrowed a candlestick and went back to her room. To her surprise, she found it tidy and clean. She was probably receiving preferential treatment. It was to be expected, the Inquisitors played a vital role in keeping the Principality safe.

In the dim light of the chandelier, she saw that the tub had been emptied. The beamed floor had been mopped and the bed made up with clean blankets. After making sure she had locked the door, she lay down on her stomach, not to risk reopening the wounds on her back. She set the still-burning candlestick on a stool beside the bed. The dancing light of the flame illuminated her black, silver-embroidered cloak, which was left over one of the chairs in the corner of the room. She had never taken it off before, not even at night, since she had left the Citadel. She felt vulnerable.

She closed her eyes. Sister Elora had taught her that to fall asleep when anxious, it was helpful to think of something happy, but she had never been able to. She’d tried to remember all the things that made her the happiest, like eating pot roast on the First Inquisitor's memorial day, the feeling of accomplishment she felt when she was made Inquisitor. Nothing worked, and yet…

She imagined Nila's embrace.

She smiled. The warmth of the blankets chased away the horrors of that day and those of the previous one. Despite her fear and worries, she looked forward to the day before her.


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