IV - The Scent of Rot

Wisps of mist drifted low across the meadows and fields.

The grass beneath their feet lay heavy with dew, and the air still carried the chill of night.

“In a few days, we should reach the coast. From there, we shall board the first ship we can find.”

Melusine crouched within the woven basket, her upper body rising from it as she watched Raymund with wide eyes.

“But… I thought you meant to remain here in the south… glug... Why must we leave again so soon?”

He leaned one hand against the gnarled trunk of the cork oak they had taken refuge under and stared into the distance.

Because I will find no peace here, in this accursed land…

His thoughts returned to the demonic laughter of the creature he had felt pursuing him ever since their encounter.

“I told you of the sea, did I not?” he said at last. “Vast waters, stretching beyond the horizon. Nothing like the pond you once called home.”

He turned to her.

“Do you not wish to behold it with your own eyes?”

She tilted her head in thought.

“Yes… I would like that…”

Raymund nodded.

“Then so be it. Shrink down, we must be on our way.”

But Melusine lowered her head, almost ashamed.

“I… cannot.”

Raymund raised a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I can no longer alter my size…”

She lifted her gaze again.

“Because of the child… I believe.”

He flinched.

So it changes her further. This will only worsen… she may yet become a burden.

“Very well,” he said after a moment, shrugging off his long black cloak and tossing it toward her. “Take this. Keep the hood low, it will have to suffice.”

She stepped from the basket and took the cloak with careful hands, almost reverent, before drawing it around herself.

Not long after, they set out again.

The path led them deeper into the flatlands, where the land rolled away in gentle waves of increasingly dry fields.

By now, the sun burned hot upon them, drawing sweat from Raymund’s brow, while faint steam rose from beneath Melusine’s form.

She walked close behind him, her hood drawn low.

Her steps were less certain than the day before. Twice she stumbled over roots that should have been easy enough to see.

“Slow down, please…,” she murmured softly, her voice heavier than usual.

Raymund stopped and turned to her, studying her for a moment.

“Should you not be accustomed to this by now?” His tone remained cool. “We cannot afford attention.”

She gave a small nod, though her hand drifted unconsciously to her belly.

“I am trying…”

Toward midday, the landscape began to change once again.

The fields lay abandoned. No farmers, no beasts. A fence had collapsed, its wood grey and rotten, as though long abandoned.

An unpleasant smell hung in the air.

His pace slowed. Breath quickening.

“This stench… I know it...”

Ahead, perhaps half a mile distant, a small settlement rose behind a high stone wall.

A single wooden gate stood closed, and before it, a lone figure.

“Stay close,” Raymund murmured.

As they approached, a man came into focus: a spear in hand, cloth bound over mouth and nose. His stance tightened.

“Halt! Fermati subito!”

Raymund stopped, regarding him for a moment as if confirming he was real. His gaze shifted briefly to the gate.

“Plague?”

The guard nodded.

“No one enters. No one leaves. By command of the Signore.”

Raymund remained still, his gaze flicking from the guard to the gate, then along the walls.

Not the worst place to refill our purse…

“Is anyone still alive in there?” he asked calmly.

The guard gave a dry, brittle laugh.

“Who knows?”

His gaze drifted to Melusine, lingering a moment before returning to Raymund.

“You better be gone. There is nothing here for you. Only death.”

A cold shiver ran down Raymund’s spine at the way the man spoke. Then he nodded slowly, as though he understood, and turned away.

“Come,” he said softly to Melusine.

They walked some distance back along the road, until the village lay out of sight.

“When night falls, we go in.”

Melusine looked at him in surprise.

“But… glug… were we not bound for the sea?”

Raymund nodded. “We are. But passage costs dear coin,” he said with a thin smile. “Here lies our chance to ask the dead for their contribution.”

He pointed toward a section of wall partly hidden behind a row of overgrown bushes.

“There we shall try.”

Melusine hesitated.

“I cannot say what it is, but this place… it feels amiss,” she said softly. “The water there… it stirs not as it should.”

He studied her.

“The water? But you… you can still shield me from the plague, can you not?”

Melusine thought for a moment, looking down at her milky hands.

“I believe so… glug... but that is not what troubles me.”

But Raymund said nothing more.

The decision had already been made.

***

The night lay dark over the stones, no stars, no moonlight casting its faint light over the meadows.

With a low grunt, Raymund pulled himself upward, climbing along the unnaturally extended limbs that reached for him, until he found his balance atop the wall.

His gaze swept the settlement.

Empty streets. Darkened windows.

Only distant coughing and pained groans lingered in the warm evening air.

He turned to Melusine, who lay beside him on the wall.

“At least your arms still serve their purpose.”

A faint smile touched her lips, though her glowing red eyes remained fixed on the streets below.

“Come…” Raymund said at last, before they lowered themselves down the other side.

The streets lay silent, but it was no peaceful emptiness.

The sweet, rotting stench of pestilence clung to everything, dragging him back to a time long gone.

North or South… it is always the same.

A door to one of the houses stood half open. Inside, a faint light flickered, and from within came a low, indistinct murmur. Then a groan, long and weary.

“Quick. That way!“

They ducked instinctively into the shadow of an archway, as from an upper window, a faint glow suddenly appeared.

A shadowy figure leaned out, as though seeking fresh air.

Then it began to cough, loud and unrestrained.

They heard the tearing in the throat, the wet gurgling. Something dripped onto the cobblestones below, close beside them.

Moving on, they eventually reached a larger house, one that stood out clearly from the rest.

It seemed broader, better kept, almost untouched by the decay surrounding it.

No sign of neglect. No crooked shutters. No sound from within.

Raymund gestured toward it as though they had reached their destination, then leaned closer to Melusine.

“Well then… we cannot quite do this as we once did, now that you have…,” his gaze lingered briefly on her swollen belly, “…changed.”

“How… glug… then?” she asked.

“I shall go in first. You stay close and keep watch. If you see anyone still alive, end them as quickly as you can. Understood?”

Melusine drifted to his side, remaining half a step behind.

“Yes, my beloved.”

He moved forward and laid his hand upon the handle, hesitating for a moment.

Then he pressed it down.

The door gave way without resistance and swung open.

At once, the smell of sickness vanished. So did the sounds. No voices, no coughing, no rustling.

They remained in the doorway, letting their eyes adjust, as the faint reddish glow of Melusine’s body spread softly through the space.

At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary reception hall.

A long table stood in the center, chairs arranged around it, and tapestries hung upon the walls, their colors difficult to make out in the dim light.

Raymund let his gaze wander slowly.

Everything was in its place. Nothing overturned, nothing abandoned in haste.

Even the air felt different here, not fresh, but untouched by the sickness outside.

”It would seem we have chosen the right place. There should be something of worth to be found in here…”

At first, the house lay in deep silence.

Then, almost imperceptibly, a sound.

Muffled voices. As though from another room, or deeper within the house.

Raymund tilted his head slightly.

“Did you hear that?” he asked quietly.

No answer.

Melusine’s reddish glow had vanished.

He whipped his head around, searching for a light in the darkness. For her faint glow, the one that had guided him so often before.

“Melusine, where are you?!” he hissed, louder than he had intended.

Where has she gone?

But he remained alone in the dark.