Brooch of Borozhniy

As promised, Rubyanich was at her car and they drove out together. He told her when to turn and she simply followed his directions. As they drove into the mountains she looked at him. "What is your grandmother's name?"

He smiled. "Nadezhda. She was Nadezhda. She likes you. I wish there was no curse. I want to spend my life with you, and yet my life is only extended by being with you."

She turned onto a logging road at his instructions and he told her to stop after she had driven a quarter mile. Just far enough to be out of sight of the main road.

They got out of the car and he told her to leave purse and keys behind. They walked for a long time, always upward, then he stopped her and pulled a length of white rope from the bag he carried. "It's time for you to remove all your clothing. We are almost to our destination."

She nodded and stripped, handing him her clothes and watching as he put them into his bag. "You are my 298th bride, and I love you more than any of them. You are wonderful and I ... well, no, I don't want to hold you forever. My life has been long enough."

He looped the half inch rope around her wrists, tied and cinched then led her by the leash created from the leftover 30 foot length. They continued in silence until he reached a ledge. Ten feet from the edge was an outcropping, flat on top, with brush and trees and Marie believed she saw smoke moving among the branches. Rubyanich picked up a long plank, set it on end, and dropped it so it formed a bridge between where they stood and the outcrop so close. He looked down at the 60 feet of near vertical drop before the point where the mountain and the outcrop met. He knew this place. He knew what he needed to do.

Marie shivered as the wind blew harder across her naked skin. There was a grappling hook and she watched as he tied the end of the rope to it. He looked back at her and she saw in his eyes, his always confident eyes, that now there was tenderness, sadness, and ... fear. He was afraid for her. She didn't know why, but she nodded. She only knew that she had to complete this to save the one person who had loved her. And who she loved.

The prince turned back to the outcrop and swung the hook before tossing it across the gap. It stopped bouncing and he jerked it to the side with a practiced motion, hooking it around a small tree. There was a shimmer, or smoke, that surrounded him and when he looked at her again he wore ancient clothes. The jewels on his fingers and around his neck told of his royal status. His beard was less well defined, as might be expected without modern razors.

"Princess Marie Annette Laneige of Borozhniy, you have one final task before we can be fully wed. I give you a choice I have given no other bride. Do you accept this task? If not, I will free you and be out of your life forever." The wind blew his hair, always so well kept before, and seemed to change his face, but the eyes were constant.

She tried to stand up taller, looking at the rope, nearly taut, between her wrists and the tree on the outcrop. She had about fifteen feet of ledge before the plank. She knew. She knew he spoke truth, that this was a first ever offer. She knew he loved her and she loved him. And she knew she would fail the test, and through her failure he would move a step closer to freedom from his curse.

"I accept the challenge, my love." He was suddenly with her, holding her, kissing her. Her bound hands, trapped between them, did not feel an erection. He was prince, doing what a prince needed to do, but he did not enjoy this.

As she walked to the plank, she heard him. Or was it the wind? This would be as close as she would get to a bridal bed and her breasts were the first to feel the arousal. "Nadezhda, help me," she whispered. "I'm afraid." The arousal moved lower as she stepped onto the narrow bridge.

To be free, she needed to cross the gap on the narrow plank, unhook the rope from the tree, and return to him to be untied. Before her, 297 women had faced similar tests, in many lands across Europe and North America. None had returned with the hook. She knew all this and felt a warm embrace by unseen hands. The intensity of her arousal continued to grow as she first walked out over air. She was gasping as she inched farther on the plank moving away from the ledge. Marie dared a glance back and saw her love, arms raised, chanting. Tears ran down his cheeks, dripping like rain from his beard. She would fail, like all the others before her. And yet, her failure would be his victory.

Reaching the middle of the bridge she felt the climax rising inside her, expanding to fill and overflow her senses. Her love was bringing her to a wonderful orgasm as they neared their final blending. Smoke seemed to pour over the edge of the outcrop, then the climax hit full force and her eyes closed as every sense was overwhelmed.

Her orgasm ended abruptly as her arms were jerked over her head and soon after she slammed into the rocky wall of the outcrop. She had fallen from the plank and now looked up at the white rope wrapped around her wrists before extending almost 25 feet up the rocky wall before bending over the top and continuing on to the hook at the tree. Marie tried to find a way to pull herself up, but with her wrists bound together she couldn't even gain an inch. She turned around and saw her prince looking over the edge, no joy of victory showing. Only a deep sadness. And love. Even now, she could see, she could FEEL, his love for her.

A rustling sound below took her attention and she saw smoke rising up the side of the outcrop, then the smoke began taking form and eventually it was men. Men with sharp teeth. She could recognize Emil and Yuri among the dozen shapes. Something touched her hand and she looked up again, seeing Nadezhda, dressed in white, smiling and holding her hand. Then the first bite came and she felt the burning pain shoot up from her foot.

The wind continued to rise, blowing Nadezhda's beautiful hair, taking the tears falling from the beautiful face and driving them against the rocks as Marie felt more and more pieces of her skin and muscles being ripped off. Her screams were lost in the wind, but she heard the soft, soothing, welcoming voice of the elder princess as blackness closed on her mind.

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Prince Rubyanich of Borozhniy sat on a rock atop the outcrop. He was waiting, though for the first time in many wives he did not feel any relief. A form, a cloud that became Yuri approached him and held two items. "My prince, I offer you that which was saved for your highness."

The prince glared at Yuri. "And where is Emil? This is his task, as it has been for almost 700 years."

Yuri did not look up. "He is afraid, my prince. Your grandmother was there, and she knows. Emil fears you will also know."

Rubyanich looked down. "I do know, and I have decided to let Grand Princess Nadezhda punish him. Now, let me finish the ceremony I find so distasteful this time."

The servant held out his left hand. From it dangled a few inches of white rope, then it showed blood splatter, then it was dyed a deep red before ending in two circlets of the same dark shade. The prince took the rope and rubbed it against his cheek for a moment before whispering, "My love, I wish it could have been different." He took the rope into his mouth and chewed it with sharp teeth until it was gone. Only one trace remained of the girl known in life as Marie Annette Leneige.

The right hand was extended and the prince took the item, lovingly caressing the skin with bloody edges. "You left the hair. Thank you Yuri." He stretched it out, gazing at it from the parted folds among the hair to the almost clear, empty sack that would never hold a child. "I entered you, my love, and now you complete the circle by entering me." He dismissed Yuri before consuming the gift.

In the night, as he continued to sit on the stone, his mother arrived, white gown now splattered with red. "I haven't seen you grieve like this since your twenty-third wife. And so unlike the last one who you allowed to continue for years because you so disliked the thought of the marriage ceremony."

"Thank you for being with her, grandmother. I knew when she first saw the brooch that she was the right one, and hated the price she would have to pay while wanting her so badly."

"Two more wives, my child, then my spirit is released from the brooch and the furniture. But she will always be my favorite. Her love and devotion were strong and may have a longer effect that may yet bring a smile to your sad face. Now I must go. It takes such strength to manifest like this, and I am older even than you." She began to fade, then paused and added, "Emil tried to cause her unnecessary pain. With the strength she shared with me, I was able to add to his curse that he can no longer manifest. He cannot touch or feed until he is finally released." Then she was carried off on the breeze.

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She awoke sitting in a black chair in a cold, dark, stone walled room. Torches gave the only dim light, matching the off white color of the floor length gown she now wore. She realized her chair was the empty throne in her dream, with the larger throne next to her now empty. The entire hall was empty except for her, the torches, and tapestries on the walls. She saw a word written on the back of the throne beside her and knew, though she could not read the letters, that it read "Prince of Borozhniy."

A door at the far end of the hall opened and Grand Princess Nadezhda walked in, her white royal gown now splattered with blood. Blood Marie knew was hers. The elder princess approached, a golden crown with a few jewels attached in her hands. She walked up and placed it on Marie's head. It seemed to adjust itself until it fit perfectly.

"Your prince is already making his connection with his next wife and then there will be only one more. The bureau and the brooch will lose their life as I fade to my rest, but both will become yours here."

Marie looked at her husband's grandmother. "What happened?"

The elder princess slid onto the prince's throne and held Marie's hand. "You gave your life to your love, and to his few surviving people. Emil has been punished, but the rest are strengthened to continue to the end of their curse. By consuming your womb, Rubyanich completed his union with you, his tears adding the salt to the ancient ceremony. He truly loved you as none before."

Marie was silent for a moment. "I let them kill me."

"Yes, my child, you did. To do so with such a willing spirit means two things. You were truly unhappy in your life, and my grandson gave you something nobody else had given you." Nadezhda watched Marie nod.

For minutes they sat, silently, two princesses holding hands, comforting each other.

"The sorcerer who set the price of protection from the mongols foresaw this and made allowance for it. Once his quest to save his people from the curse is completed, Rubyanich will return here and reign with you for 50 years. The people, at least several hundred of them, will once again do their business, play, and bring this tired principality to life. After the 50 years, well, we're all dead anyway, aren't we? But you will have that time with the husband who loves you, and desires to make up for what your father and brothers stole from you."

As the elder lady rose, Marie looked at her. "How did you know?"

"I look out for my grandson. You're crying drew my attention. It is easy enough for a wraith to overhear, travel, and investigate. Only one invitation was given out to that estate sale you went to. I chose you, and when he sensed your spirit, my grandson chose you. I think I did very well." She moved closer. "I may not see you again, child, or I may. But if not, a small gift." She kissed Marie on the lips and a warm glow filled the younger woman where in life she would have become aroused.

She was alone again, the halls not quite so cold. She would wait. Her prince would come to her and they would have 50 years together. Finally, she smiled.

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The uniformed police officer stood near the door of the small apartment while one detective spoke with the landlady and the other looked for clues. The landlady was visibly upset, the police were all professional.

"You said her work reported her missing because she left early one day and then didn't call or go in for two days? She's such a sweet girl, always on time with her rent, always polite. I hope she's all right."

The detective looked up from his notes. "You said there was nothing unusual about her behavior recently?"

"I haven't seen her since two weeks ago when she paid her rent. She did have some furniture delivered about a week ago. Why would she do that if she expected to leave?"

The detective's phone sounded and he answered. The call was short and when it was finished he made a few notes. "Thank you for your time, ma'am. You can leave now and we'll lock up when we're finished. We'll let you know when we learn more. In the meantime, you'll need to leave everything as it is." When the landlady was gone and the door was closed again, he called out, "Marjory, I got a call that they found an abandoned car on a logging road Tuesday morning. It belongs to our missing person. Keys and purse were on the front seat." He began looking through the few papers that were out on the kitchen counter.

Marjory had been a police officer for 22 years, most of it as a detective. She had gone through three husbands in that time and was estranged from her two children. She was angry at life, hated men, and was thinking this girl must have met the wrong guy and didn't have what it took to tell him to go fuck himself so she's in a hole somewhere in the mountains.

As she opened drawers, looking for clues, she saw a brooch inside. She picked it up and turned it over, wondering why that was the only thing in the dresser. Startled, she looked at the mirror. For a moment, she thought she had seen two women behind her, one in a white, blood spattered gown, the other looking like their missing girl. But they were gone now. She felt her heart racing and thought how unusual that was after all these years of police work.

The sound was like a whisper, or the rustle of drapes. "Dorobaya tchinkoy." The word was soft, but suddenly Marjory felt as if wet fingers were rubbing her nipples. She sucked in her breath and put her hands on the dark brown wood of the dresser.