The Lady at the River's Edge

39 - Confluence

An impossible nightmare had come before her, a revenant from the hell of the past. He no longer wore a cover over the eye he had lost, its scarred socket still black with the scabbed wound, the other eye looking less inflamed than it had, but no less mad.

"What–how?" She could manage little more than sputtering confusion at first. It was Janos who first took to action, swiftly dismounting and coming to stand between her and the demon. Reminded that she was not alone, she regained some of her wits.

"How?" Benedek repeated, his gloating smile a caricature of his old charm. "Why, it must be the will of God, my lady. How else?" He gave a laugh tinged with mania. "The will of God," he said again, "and three horses run ragged in pursuit. But do not fear, my lady–I kept good Incitatus here for last with good reason. The finest stallion of my father's stables, he has plenty of heart left to chase down your beast."

"My lady, you must go!" Janos hissed before her, drawing his sword. "I will keep him occupied."

"You will, will you?" Benedek barked another laugh, then twisted in his seat. So shocked had she been at the sight of his vile face, Erzsebet hadn't noticed the twin spears jutting from the back of the saddle, like the tail feathers of a flycatcher. He drew one, spinning it casually in his hand so that its gleaming point carved great murderous circles from the air, flashing with the sun. "Small and broken as you are, sword against lance, on foot facing a mounted foe–how long do you think to occupy me?"

"To the end of your wretched life," Janos growled. "I have bested you twice already, Benedek."

"Indeed you have–and yet, here I am. Why do I still live, knight? What have your victories earned you?"

"True enough," said Janos. "An error I'll be sure to amend." He turned back to her, and with years of devotion in his eyes he begged, "My lady, you must go!"

"And why would I allow that?" Benedek asked. "Do you think you are the prize here, knight? You think I would let the lady go, for the sake of what–vengeance?" He cackled, then fixed his devil's eye upon Erzsebet. With a scythe smile he assured her: "If you try to flee, my lady, I will spear your mount through the heart and drag you screaming back to your home."

"Then do it!" Erzsebet cried. "What are you waiting for? Why bother with these games? If that is your aim, try it and be done!"

Tutting, shaking his head, the nobleman gave a chilling imitation of his father. "I thought you enjoyed playing games, my lady. Why rush to the end, when we can first have some fun?"

Disgust curled her lip. "Fun? What are you planning, wretch?"

"A simple game." He spun his spear once, then rested it across his lap. "I will tell you something, and then you will tell me something in return. Doesn't that sound like a pleasant pastime?"

"Perhaps, were my partner not a monster."

He put on a look of hurt. "Should monsters never have their chance to play? Do we not deserve to frolic, now and then?"

"It is the monsters who play most in this world," Erzsebet spat, "at the expense of all the rest of us."

Like a mummer changing masks, his hurt was discarded for gaiety. "True enough! Then you must indulge me, my poor, innocent Erzsebet–for I will have my fun."

She glanced at Janos, who still stood with his sword ready. Could he ever defeat Benedek in his state? His arm still pained him from the fall, of that she had no doubt, and even a hale man on foot was hard-pressed to fend off a mounted attack. It would take an act of God to see the knight victorious, and she was well past depending on such things.