IGMS Issue 8 Page 2

  A slip of pride flittered through Braslava's mind: perhaps men did not have eyes for her, but it was possible this holy thing did. She wondered how she might determine the truth of it.

  Such a thought, she realized, and immediately squashed it.

  The next day the creature returned with a teacup that had tiny red flowers painted on the side. The leather pants and belt were gone.

  Anja threw up her hands. "This one is like Adam before he ate the fruit." She sighed and looked up. "You could help," she said, apparently addressing the Lord himself.

  This could not continue. Braslava was not made of gold. Anja had even less.

  Braslava took the teacup and shooed the golem away. A part of her felt sorry for the creature. But then holy things were probably made to withstand continual rejection.

  Anja clapped her hands. "Of course, it is like Adam. And that is precisely what we shall tell them: this thing was created to be naked and unashamed."

  "That does not help me," said Braslava. "We must fetch the Rabbi from Zagreb."

  "What will he do that the Priest from Draga cannot?"

  "Since when has a priest known how to deal with a golem?"

  "Who is going to go with the mountains between here and Zagreb full of bears and Turks?" asked Anja.

  "We must do something."

  "You don't have to do anything," a man said.

  Both women turned.

  Mislav stood in the yard, his beard tucked into his tunic. "The Ban's men are in the vale; I saw them cross the ridge only minutes ago."

  "The Lord be blessed," said Anja.

  But Braslava felt a small pang of loss. Of course, it was ridiculous. It was wrong. It was an evil thought. And she would not be an unstable woman.

  The Ban's men rode in on horses slick with exertion, their sides lathered in sweat. A four-horse team drew a sturdy wagon with a cage bolted to its bed. The wagon clattered and rumbled down the rutted road and rolled to a stop by the well. A number of the villagers had gathered.

  The soldiers wore padded, surcoats of blue and carried shields with the gold fleur-de-lys and blue field of the Croatian Ban. The captain of this crew addressed the villagers. "Where is the Byzantine priest?"

  Mislav stepped forward. "I am here, Captain."

  "Bring us the golem and the witch."

  Mislav bowed. "There is no witch, sir. But I can lead you to the golem."

  "My orders, you heretic, are for a golem and a witch."

  Mislav bowed even lower. "I cannot deliver what does not exist."

  The captain's eyebrows rose in annoyance. He picked up his riding crop and urged his horse forward.

  Mislav was going to get whipped by that crop in the face.

  Nobody moved.

  Braslava wondered, what were they doing? Protecting her? She opened her mouth to speak. But Anja grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her back.

  "You want a witch?" Anja asked. "I'll be your witch."

  "No," Braslava said.

  Anja strode up to the captain boldly. "My family has been Christian since Koloman was king. I pray seven rosaries every day. And every Sabbath I travel over the mountain to go to church in Draga. So this thing comes to my doorstep. If that makes me a witch, then I'm a witch."

  The captain turned to another man sitting astride a huge, shining black stallion. He carried no shield, but his arms were stitched on the chest of his purple, sable-trimmed surcoat -- a yellow field with a black checkerboard slash. Braslava had not seen them before. She looked at his face. His eyes were like those of a dead fish, flat and lifeless.

  The man urged his horse forward until he was close to Anja. He slid his foot out of the stirrup and with the point of his boot, lifted Anja's chin and turned her face. He took a good long look at her.

  "A witch never had power to make a golem," said Anja.

  The man dropped his boot from her face and turned his attention to the villagers gathered about. He looked at each in turn. When he came Braslava, she forced herself not to look away. His gaze lingered on her, and then he smiled, a dead smile that never reached his eyes. "Just get the golem," he said. He spoke it in Hungarian, which meant he was some sort of noble.

  The captain motioned for Mislav to lead. Mislav took them to Anja's barn where the golem was sitting placidly in the dirt, a spade across its lap.

  "Come," said Anja to the golem. "Get up. These men are here to take you away."

  The golem turned its head to look at Braslava.

  The captain motioned for his men. Two of them brought manacles and heavy chains.

  "Get up," said Anja.

  The golem ignored her.

  "Get out of the way," the captain said.

  Two soldiers with lances leveled them at the golem. The three with bows drew their strings. The men with chains pushed by Anja. One said, "You shoot me in the back, Rati, and I'll kill you."

  They approached the golem like they would a bear, slow, ready to spring away in a moment.

  The golem regarded one of them. "We are friends," the soldier said. "Do you see the pretty chains?" He showed the golem the iron collar. He let it hold a chain. While the golem was fingering the links, he reached out and clasped the collar gently about the golem's neck.

  The second soldier slipped the spade from the golem's lap.

  "Pretty chains," said the first soldier. "Now we will put them on your ankles andwrists."

  They commanded it to rise and get in the cage. It rose, exited the barn in a hobbled walk, and climbed into the cage. They commanded it to sit. It sat. They locked the cage door, and mounted up.

  The man with the dead fish eyes addressed Braslava. "So what does this thing eat?"

  His look was unnerving. It was as if something else other than a man lived in that face. She had never seen the golem put anything in its mouth, and so she said, "I suppose it eats dirt."

  The very next morning, just before the sun crested the mountains, the golem returned to stand on Anja's doorstep. The heavens had dumped down a freezing rain that morning, and the creature's skin was dark, glistening like wet rock. The chains were broken, half the manacles missing.

  "Always running home," said Braslava. "I told you this thing was like a cat."

  "Holy Mother," said Anja and crossed herself. "Let us pray that this golem had not committed murder."

  Braslava's joy turned to ash. She looked at the golem's powerful hands. The soldiers would return with anger. It was possible she and Anja would be taken and hung. It was possible the Ban would send a hundred men to burn the village to the ground.

  "We are guilty of nothing," said Anja. "We will not run."

  "Lord," Braslava prayed and then stopped. She was but a little person. Nevertheless, wasn't David little when he slew the giant?

  "What?" asked Anja.

  "Nothing," said Braslava, ashamed at her lack of courage.

  It was well into midmorning when Braslava heard the galloping of horse and the rumble of a wagon moving at speed. She and Anja exited the garden where they had been digging onions and walked to stand in front of the house by the lane that led through the village and meet their fate.

  The mounted soldiers rounded the bend at the far end of the lane. It was still cold and the horses' breath looked like smoke. They reined in about the two women, the horses sidling, stomping, snorting in a ragged group.

  A cluster of children that should have been digging sugar beets clustered in front of one of the stone huts to watch. The village women looked up from their apple pots. Cranky Petar came as far as the middle of the lane carrying his pitchfork.

  The noble with the dead fish-eyes pushed his expensive horse through the soldier's mounts. He said nothing. He simply looked at Anja.

  A silver cross hung on a chain about his neck. But it was no ordinary cross, for at its based coiled a serpent.

  Braslava and Anja had discussed the noble at length. That cross confirmed their conclusion -- he was a volhov. And only the Lord knew the darkness he weaved.


  Anja held up her hands to say she had nothing to do with the golem being here. "It is on the roof."

  The soldiers all looked to Anja's slate roof. The golem squatted at one edge, its knees drawn to its chest, so that it seemed to perch there. Two sparrows perched on the peak next to it.

  "Call it down," said the volhov.

  "Of course," said Anja. "But I must tell you that it comes and goes of its own accord. I don't know that it can be tamed."

  "I did not ask for the opinion of a woman."

  Anja nodded.

  She was going to get herself killed if she did not shut up. She walked over to the edge of the roof. "Golem," Anja said. "You must come down."

  The golem turned its head to look away. Then it changed its perch so that it faced away from them.

  "Shoot it," said the captain. Two soldiers unwrapped their bows. They retrieved their bow strings from the helmets atop their heads. The golem paid them no mind. Soon both had an arrow nocked and drawn.

  "Fire," said the captain.

  The arrows sped forth. The sparrows took flight. The golem scratched its ear.

  The arrows struck it high in the back. But only the very tips penetrated its skin. The arrows came to rest at odd angles. Then the golem shivered, and the arrows clattered to the roof.

  "Get up there with a rope," the captain said. "If it won't come willingly, we'll pull it down."

  He commanded Braslava and Anja to bring ladders. He ordered four men up. Before they ascended, Braslava saw two of the assigned soldiers glance at each other, and she could not tell if they were divvying up work with their glances or looking to each other for courage.

  The soldiers clambered up the roof. Three carried spears. The one with the noose straddled the peak. The other end of the rope was tied to the back of the wagon's bed. The soldier cast the noose easily about the golem's neck and yanked it tight. The driver yelled and flicked his reins. The horses surged forward. But the golem simply reached up and, with his thumb and forefinger, snapped the rope.

  The soldiers, the villagers, the volhov, they all watched the wagon clatter a number of yards up the lane dragging the rope.

  They turned back to the golem.

  The soldiers on the roof stood in confusion. One screwed up his face, growled, and charged as best he could on the slate. The butt of his spear struck the golem where a man's ribs would be. But the golem did not even sway. It was as if it were affixed to the roof.

  The soldier slipped on the slate, then regained his balance. He set himself and shoved the butt of the spear into the golem's head. By this time the other two soldiers had joined the first, poking and ramming the thing. But a slate roof after a freezing rain is not such a good place to fight. The first soldier lost his footing. His spear flew wide and he tumbled down to fall into Anja's now dead marigolds.

  The golem batted the spears out of the other two soldier's hands. Their spears clattered and rolled down the roof to the ground. The larger soldier with a blond beard changed his stance as if he were about to close with a wrestler. But before he took one step, the golem reached down and grasped the edge of the roof. It swung down like a monkey, hand over hand along the edge, and dropped to the ground. Then it crossed the space between Anja's hut and Petar's, grabbed the edge of his roof, and swung up. In moments it had taken a new perch.

  This was not going to work. Even Braslava could see that. She folded her arms and glanced at Anja who gave her a look that said: idiot men.

  Idiots, maybe. Violent, most certainly. Braslava knew they would start burning the huts down. They would tramp through the gardens. She walked over to Petar's house and looked up at the golem.

  "It would please me," she said, "if you went with them." Once she'd said the words, she knew it was not right. But what could she do now? Command it to run away? That wizard would kill her for sure.

  The golem looked down at her.

  On the other hand, maybe she was right to dupe it so. Who knew what it was? Who knew if it was even holy? And even if it wasn't pitching woo, a most certain abomination, it was only a matter of time before it stole something that would bring danger -- a bear cub, someone's child. Hadn't it already done so, drawing a wizard with dead fish eyes?

  "Just go with them," she said.

  The words hurt in a small way. But even that was cause for alarm because it meant her affections were turning. And when such turnings matured, who was to say what she might desire?

  The golem gazed at her for a few moments more with those unblinking red eyes. Then it unfolded itself and walked down the roof.

  The next morning Braslava woke with a vast emptiness in her belly. She thought of the golem riding away in the wagon's cage, a thicker collar about its neck fastened to a ship's chain. It looked like it had been sold into slavery.

  She said nothing to Anja about it, but all day she expected the golem to return. When the sun set and Anja warmed two cups of plum brandy, she reminded herself that it most often returned in the early morning.

  It did not return the next morning or the next. It did not return that week. Braslava sometimes caught herself scanning the forest edge for it. Anja traveled over the mountain to visit her priest. She traveled back with a new rye dough starter that she wrapped in waxed linen and kept warm and living at her chest. They harvested the potatoes at Anja's and then moved up to Braslava's to bring in the last fruits. Two weeks passed. A day and a night of strong winds stripped off nearly all the colored leaves, leaving the naked tree bones clutching at the sky.

  Mislav came to visit them at Braslava's hut, but they did not talk of the golem. That night after he left, Anja said, "We were practical."

  Braslava sipped her hot tea, looking into the fire.

  "It had to go," Anja said.

  "Perhaps," said Braslava.

  "Yes," said Anja. "Perhaps." She stood. "I shall return." She opened the front door of the hut to go to the outhouse and gasped in alarm

  Braslava looked up. She turned, spilling the scalding tea onto her legs.

  There stood the golem on the porch.

  Anja backed away, her hand on her chest.

  The wind blew in a dusting of snow.

  Braslava put the teacup aside and stood. The golem was blue in the light of the moon, orange in the light from the hearth. It perfect skin was marred and chipped. It looked like it was missing a piece of its jaw. But the worst was its right eye. It was gone, mangled like someone had taken a stick and shoved it into the clay of its face.

  "Dear Lord," said Braslava. "Come in, golem. Come in."

  The golem stooped to walk through the door. It strode past Braslava to the hearth and squatted before the fire. Then it reached in and with its bare hand rooted around and plucked out a red hot coal. It turned its head, as if looking up at her, as if she perhaps was not supposed to see.

  Braslava turned to give it privacy, but she still caught it out of the corner of her eye, and what she saw was the golem put the glowing, smoking coal in its mouth to chew and swallow.

  "Brasi," said Anja. "Yet another theft." She stood at the hut's open door, looking out into the yard.

  Braslava regarded the golem for a moment. So it was holy then. She should not have doubted. She crossed the room to join Anja on the cold stone of the porch. Tied to the post of the pig pen was a young ram.

  The golem had never before tied its animal thefts like this. It always carried them in its arms. She walked out into the wind and cold, crunching across the thin skiff of snow frozen in places to the ground. The ram turned its head to eye her.

  Its back was flat and level with the shoulders. Its stance strong. Both testicles hung free of the body. The curved horns did not come too close to the head. She looked over its ears in the moonlight. There was no marking of ownership.

  The ram was still not sure of her and tried to step away. In the morning she'd have to check to see if its eyes were clear, check the nose, listen for the quality of its breath. She would have to check it for foot rot. If all w
as good, then this would be the golem's best theft yet.

  Braslava untied the ram and put it in another pen. All this time Anja stood watching at the door. When Braslava came back in, Anja asked, "What are we going to do?"

  "We are not going to give the golem to that wizard. That's one thing."

  "I think the golem can take care of itself," said Anja.

  "Maybe," said Braslava. "Maybe not."

  They both went inside Braslava's hut and shut the door. The golem still squatted before the fire.

  "Maybe it is time to risk both bears and Turks," said Braslava, "and fetch the Rabbi of Zagreb."

  Anja nodded. "I will go. I was the one who kept you from going earlier."

  "We'll go together."

  "We will be eaten or flayed," said Anja.

  "We won't be flayed."

  "Ask Mislav. You do not know the Turks."

  Braslava walked over to the hearth and reached past the golem for the hanging kettle. She poured herself another cup of tea, straining the mixture at the spout with a scrap of cheesecloth.

  "I will ask Mislav. I will ask him for his horse." She opened a small crock of honey on the table and added some to her cup. "We can ride doubled up."

  Anja nodded. "Nina's a good one. She will take care of the animals."

  They decided to be practical and go to sleep, but neither could. Instead, they began packing for the trip. Depending on the roads, it might take most of a day to get to Zagreb. They would certainly have to stay overnight.

  "The volhov will come," said Braslava.

  "Then we will leave even sooner," said Anja. "And the golem will follow."

  "And stir up the hornets in Zagreb. I don't know if this idea will work."

  In all this time the golem had not moved from the fire. But now it jerked its head as if it had just heard something. It stood.

  Anja and Braslava stopped their packing.

  The golem ran for the door, threw it open, and rushed outside.

  Braslava and Anja looked at each other.

  "Does it always do that?" asked Anja.

  Braslava shrugged. She'd never seen it do that before. She crossed to the doorway, careful lest the creature should return in haste and knock her over. She looked out. The moon had set. The night was dark. The golem could neither be heard nor seen.