Blood Legacy: The Story of Ryan Part 23

She heard a whimper and turned toward the sound, making her way through the rows of stakes. She came to the body of a young boy, pierced through his stomach by the stake from which he hung. His open eyes gazed lifelessly up at the sky, but his body still trembled with the life force that would not let him go.

Ryan stared down at the youth, remembering another youth she had struck down long ago in a stockade. She reached out and laid her hand over his face, closing his eyes. His body still trembled and jerked as Ryan gazed down at him dispa.s.sionately. She carefully placed her hand at the base of his skull and then twisted his head, snapping his neck.

The body went limp, freed at last from its prison of pain. Ryan turned away from the boy, feeling a fire begin to burn in her chest. She saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and in a fraction of a second was upon it at the edge of the forest.

She held a young girl dangling in her hand. The girl was terrified, pushed past the point of screaming. She looked up at Ryan in a wordless horror.

Ryan set the girl on her feet, not releasing her. She forced the girl to look in her eyes. "What happened here?" she commanded.

The girl felt herself relaxing against her will. There was a mesmerizing quality to this beautiful young man's speech, although she didn't understand it. The girl wondered if G.o.d had sent an angel to save her, but shouldn't the angel know what had happened?

This thought caused the girl to begin trembling again and tears began to well up in her eyes. Ryan loosened her grip on the girl. On a hunch, this time she spoke to the little girl in German. "Where do you live?"

The little girl pointed across the clearing in the direction of the village. Ryan nodded. "What is the name of that place?"

The little girl sobbed, a catch in her voice. "Wurzburg."

Ryan stood, releasing her physical but not mental hold on the girl. The girl stood quietly at her side. Ryan leaned down and picked her up. "Let's leave this place."

Ryan carried her through the forest away from the village. She found a small, secluded clearing and set the girl on her bedroll. She started a fire because she was not certain if the girl was s.h.i.+vering from fear or the cold. The girl huddled near the warmth of the flames.

Ryan sat down on a nearby rock, uncertain how to start. "What's your name?"

The girl looked up at her. "Amelia, and my brother's name is Franz."

"Where's your brother?"

Amelia stared down into the flames, trembling once more. "I don't know."

Ryan thought about the bodies in the clearing. She had a pretty good idea where Franz was. "Amelia, look at me."

The small girl looked up at the handsome, golden-haired man with the strange eyes. She felt a calmness settle over her and concluded that this must be an angel sent to test her.

"What happened here?"

There was an emptiness in Amelia's young voice, a voice that even despair had been leached out of. "They took Erin and Gertrude and Patience, and all the others."

Ryan was patient. "Took them where?"

"To the town square for trial."

Ryan didn't understand. "Trial for what?"

Amelia looked down. "Because they're witches," she paused, "or at least that's what they say."

Ryan sat back in amazement. Witches. She had heard of the different witchhunts over the last few decades, but she had considered them anomalies, aberrations of ignorant people. She looked down at the young girl in front of her. Apparently they were not as rare as she had thought. She turned her attention back to the young girl.

"Why were you hiding in the forest?"

There was a profound sadness on the little girl's features, and a sense of shame. "I thought at first, when they took Patience, that it was a good thing. I didn't like Patience. But then they began to take more and more, and now I'm afraid they'll take me." She turned imploringly to Ryan. "But I'm not a witch, really I'm not."

Ryan rubbed her eyes. "And so what if you were," she said, more to herself than to Amelia.

The little girl glanced up at the man. That was a strange thing for an angel to say.

Ryan was about to ask another question when a noise to her right attracted her attention. Faster than the little girl could see, she disappeared into the forest and returned, dangling a small boy from her grasp.

"Franz!" Amelia cried.

Ryan released him and the boy ran to his sister's side in terror. Ryan briefly concentrated and the boy calmed. He gazed up expectantly at the angel, waiting for salvation.

Ryan gazed down at the two in consternation. She had heard the boy in the thicket from a distance. She had judged him to be small and was correct. He could have been Amelia's twin. Ryan frowned. If they were twins, that could be enough of a sign for these village idiots to accuse them of witchcraft.

Ryan sighed. It wouldn't be the first time she had been accused of being in league with the devil.

Apparently Franz and Amelia were exhausted because they quickly fell asleep in the fading glow of the fire. Ryan gazed at the embers far into the night, keeping vigil over her two new and inconvenient companions.

By morning light, Ryan had decided on a course of action. She easily captured two hares and rekindled the fire. By the time the children awoke, their breakfast was ready. They ate as if starving.

When Ryan informed the two they were all going to return to the village, the children's eyes widened in terror. Amelia, however, decided she would put her trust in the angel and Franz followed his sister's lead.

Ryan had to pick her way through the forest because the children moved so slowly. At one point, she picked them both up and covered the remaining distance quickly, setting them down at the edge of the town. Each child clutched a hand, glued to her side.

Ryan's acute gaze swept the village. Her arrival was immediately noted and villagers gathered.

Ryan gazed at the dirty peasants. They clutched various farm implements as if holding weapons. An odd light glowed in their eyes, a combination of fear and madness.

The burgermeister stepped forward and examined the stranger. He noted the beauty of the man with suspicion. Looks such as those did not come from G.o.d, but from Satan. Ironically, the burgermeister had made the same rationalization for the malformed in the past.

Ryan cleared her throat. "I came through the forest. I couldn't help but notice the children in the clearing."

The strange, musical quality to the stranger's voice caused the burgermeister's eyes to narrow. He motioned to Franz and Amelia.

"Children, step away from that man."

Amelia clutched Ryan's hand tightly but Franz was uncertain. The burgermeister attempted to capitalize on the boy's wavering.

"Franz, this man is a witch, step away from him!"

Ryan inwardly sighed. She had a feeling this would happen. She released the boy's hand. "I'm not holding them. They came to me in the forest, out of fear. They're afraid for their lives."

"They should be afraid for their souls," a crone said from the crowd. She spat into the dust. "The devil walks these lands, seducing children." The crone eyed Ryan warily, "Perhaps he walks in the guise of a pretty boy today."

Ryan shook her head. "I am not the devil. I'm a simple traveler."

The crone eyed him. "Then where's your food and water? Where's your horse?"

A murmur swept through the crowd at this obvious lack of sustenance. Ryan heard the whispers. Only Satan or one of his minions could walk so unenc.u.mbered.

Apparently this was enough to convince Franz and he made a run for the crowd. Amelia still stood clutching Ryan's hand. The burgermeister spoke to Ryan, eyeing the girl.

"And you walk in the company of one accused."

Ryan looked down at the little girl, then back at the burgermeister. She had a hard time controlling her anger. "Accused of what?"

The crone spoke out, shaking her broom. "Witchcraft, of course. The girl is a witch, just like the others."

Ryan shook her head in amazement. "Where's this girl's mother?"

The old crone spat again, and Ryan thought it ironic this woman looked more like a witch than anyone she had ever seen. The crone grimaced, revealing toothless gums. "I'm her mother."

Ryan was stunned at the madness that had overtaken these people. There was a maniacal antic.i.p.ation in their eyes, as if the world had become one huge witchunt demanding partic.i.p.ation lest one become the next accused.

Ryan decided it was probably best if she just left. She would take the girl to another village and find safekeeping for her. She grasped Amelia's hand and turned to leave.

Amelia called to her brother. "Franz, come with us. Don't stay here!"

The boy appeared to waver once more as the crone grasped him by his shoulders. Ryan stopped, aware of his indecision. Amelia pulled from her grasp and moved a few steps toward him. The crone pulled the boy back towards her filthy skirt.

The burgermeister lunged towards Amelia, but Ryan moved quicker. She intercepted the man, knocking him to the ground.

The unnatural speed and strength the stranger possessed was enough to convince the crowd that this indeed was a witch. Ryan was undecided whether to move for the boy or for Amelia. In that split second of indecision, a man at the edge of the crowd s.n.a.t.c.hed a hot poker from a nearby fire and thrust it in Franz's direction. Another brave soul wrapped an arm around Amelia's neck, placing a knife at her throat.

Ryan was furious at herself. If she had simply reacted, she could have had both children out of harm's way. Now she wasn't certain she could move quickly enough to save them both. She stopped in her tracks.

The man holding the poker waved it in Franz's face and Ryan wondered uneasily if he was going to accidentally burn the child. He spoke to the crowd.

"'Tis proof enough both of them are in league with this demon. They follow his commands."

The crone joined in. "You saw his strength. *Tis not the strength of a mortal man. This could be Satan's son himself we're dealing with."

Ryan rolled her eyes. Her father Hans the blacksmith was probably turning in his grave at the accusation. Ryan tried to exert her influence over the crowd, calming them.

"I'm not Satan, or one of his minions. I'm just a simple traveler and I'll be on my way if you promise not to hurt the children."

"How do we know you won't come back for them?" the man with the poker said, waving the poker in Franz's face again.

Ryan eyed the poker. That was exactly what she intended to do. But she certainly wasn't going to announce that to this mob. Her subtle influence appeared to be working because she noticed the man with the knife was relaxing his grip on Amelia. If he would lower the knife just slightly further, Ryan knew she could get to the poker, then the knife before either man could react.

The crone shook her head as if clearing it from sleep. She began screaming. "Don't you see what he's doing? He's clouding our minds. This is Satan!"

Ryan was chagrined to see the man with the knife snap to attention and the poker begin waving wildly. The red hot metal brushed the boy's cheek and he cried out. Ryan took a step toward him but saw the knife move out of the corner of her eye.

"Wait!" she cried, stopping once more. The knife shook in the man's hand, nicking Amelia's throat. She cried out in pain, her eyes wide and her mouth trembling.

Ryan stopped, feeling an incredible frustration. If she moved in either direction, one of the children would be seriously injured or killed. She saw blood on Amelia's neck and smelled the small boy's burnt flesh.

The burgermeister had recovered from the blow and was struggling with a coil of rope. "Help me," he cried to several men joining him, "we must bind Satan."

The men approached Ryan warily and she tensed. She watched the poker wave around the boy's face and her frustration intensified. With misgivings she allowed the men to wrap the cords around her. She was not concerned for her own safety, but knew now she would be even slower to act because she would have to break the bindings before she could move. She only hoped the crowd would turn its attention towards her and relax their vigil on the children.

It was not to be. The crone sensed the only thing keeping the stranger in check was Franz and Amelia. "Hold the children tight," she admonished, a mad gleam in her eye.

Even Ryan's feet were bound and she was lifted up onto the shoulders of the crowd. They seemed surprised at how light she was given her earlier display of strength. It was one more confirmation of the stranger's unholy status.

The mob screamed and began to run as one towards the river, carrying the demon. They taunted the stranger with curses and obscenities even as they made the sign of the cross to ward off this devil's influence. As they reached the bank of the river, the men carrying Ryan rushed to the front of the crowd and without hesitation, threw her into the water.

Ryan plunged into the icy depths with a sense of relief. At least down here she could not hear them scream. She saw the legs of several peasants as they waded in to hold her under the water. She did not resist as they drowned her.

Or at least tried to. Ryan gazed at the bottom of the river trying to think of a course of action. Perhaps if she played dead she could catch them off guard. She let her body go limp.

The burgermeister and several other men dragged her from the water, yelling triumphantly. They dragged her limp body onto the dirt sh.o.r.e.

"Cut the demon's head off," the crone shouted from the crowd.

Ryan was startled. She had not antic.i.p.ated this turn of events and rolled just in time as the ax came whistling down, thudding into the damp earth beside her.

The mob screamed in fear, but their terror only fed their hatred. Both children were still held captive and the knife and the poker sprang to positions of readiness once more.

Ryan had never felt so helpless in all her long life. Once again, she was not concerned for her own safety but rather frustrated by her inability to help both children. She glanced up at Amelia who, although now afraid of her, was still praying for the stranger to come to her rescue.

"Trial by fire!" the crone shouted, and Ryan inwardly cursed the b.i.t.c.h. She was lifted and unceremoniously carried into the center of town where another hot poker was acquired. The man holding the iron spat on Ryan as the crowd leaned forward in antic.i.p.ation.

The red-hot tip seared Ryan's cheek and she could smell her own flesh burning. The pain was intense but she refused to cry out. This seemed to incite the man and he laid the iron against her thigh.

This was too much for Ryan and her foot flashed out, snapping the man's thigh in two. He fell to the ground, screaming in agony, the bone protruding through the flesh.

"Burn the boy!" the crone screamed.

Ryan turned to see the poker descend on Franz's cheek. The boy screamed in pain.

"Stop it," Ryan shouted, "I won't fight!"

The poker moved away and Ryan could see the burned flesh. She closed her eyes, feeling absolutely impotent.

Ryan was again lifted onto the shoulders of the mob. She wondered what they had planned for her now. She could see Amelia being dragged along, the hairy arm still pinned around her throat. Franz was half-dragged, half-carried along as well, his tears flowing unchecked down his burned cheek.

Ryan was dragged to the center square where two horses were held in check. The already agitated steeds were frightened by the mob and began struggling against their harnesses.

Ryan was unbound and ropes were quickly slipped around both wrists. The ropes were attached to the harnesses and the slack taken out, causing Ryan to stand upright with her arms spread wide. She stared at Franz and Amelia who gazed back at her in wordless terror. Ryan felt a sense of helpless resignation about what was to come.

"Hiya!" the burgermeister yelled as he slapped the rump of one horse. Another man slapped the other horse and they began running in opposite directions.

Ryan stared at the children as the crowd leaned forward in antic.i.p.ation. The horses covered the short distance at breakneck speed, spurred on by the jeers of the mob. The sound of their hoofs was drowned out by the screaming crowd.

Both ropes went taut simultaneously, but the crowd did not get their antic.i.p.ated dismemberment. Instead, Ryan held fast and both horses were stopped in their tracks, toppling backwards as their heads jerked rearward from the force. Both steeds fell to the dust as Ryan stood unmoved.

The crowd was suddenly mute as Ryan slipped the ropes from her wrists, still standing. She raised her head, finally facing the inevitable.