All Chapters of Dark souls: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40
71 chapters
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A knock on the door woke her up. Deciding that it was Bertrand, Katerina jumped off the chair, and in what she was, she ran to the door. However, something made her stop and look out from behind the drawn curtains into the street. At her door, she saw a middle-aged man in the clothes of a city dweller, holding some piece of paper in his hands. Grabbing the first cloak she came across, she slowly descended and opened the door.Are you Madame La Filastra? he asked, respectfully pulling off his hat.Who is asking her? Katerina lowered the hood of her cloak.I was asked to give it to her, - the citizen hesitantly turned the paper over in his hands.I'll pass it on, thank you, - Katerina quickly snatched the sheet and slammed the door. The townsman scratched the back of his head and pulled on his hat. Katerina went upstairs and flung some crowns out of the window. Hearing the ringing, the townsman raised his head, but saw only the swaying curtains. Struck by his generosity, he
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The days left until the full moon, Katerina devoted to unraveling the messages of witchcraft, messages that she could not read. Cards, chickens, goats, magic potions - nothing told her what exactly awaited her. As if teasingly, any of her witchcraft only counted the days. At night, she quietly tried to observe the planets. But as soon as she tried to set up her device, which the sailors called a spyglass, clouds ran over her star or planet, behind which she wanted to look. She had not thought of buying a telescope before, because she did not think that her witchcraft talents might need such help. And now it was risky: latent mass hysteria and suspicion secretly took possession of the minds of people as in the recent gloomy Middle Ages. Only then no one hid their fears. Now, thanks to the gradual development of science, the open manifestation of witch-hunting was considered ignorance, which, however, did not mean that superstition in people had died. Ordinary people confused the conc
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After half an hour of frantic racing, they stopped at a forgotten village. Hiding the carriage in a copse, Katerina went further on foot, leading the indifferent Denise by the hand. Bertrand, with a drawn sword in his hand, brought up the rear. Guided by the paths known to her alone, Katerina went around the village, passed the swamp and went out into a clearing, on which stood a rickety building made of dark logs. The door swinging on one hinge made a piercing and disturbing sound.We are in place, - Katerina raised her head to the sky. The clouds just revealed the bright disk of the full moon. The full moon will take effect in a quarter of an hour. She entered the former church. Dirt, desolation, bats, frogs, hosts of spiders did not bother her at all. She quickly arranged and lit black candles around the altar, covering the altar itself with a black cloth with some cabalistic signs. Moonlight shone through the roof of the church onto the altar.Hurry,” she whispered fev
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Why is this woman bound?Your Grace, - The official, who was recording the testimony of a bound black-haired woman in a rough robe, jumped up, knocking over a rough stool. No one warned us of your arrival. He looked angrily at the commandant, who was fiddling with the keys in embarrassment next to an elderly plump man with thinning blond hair. The commandant began to fuss, offering his companion a wretched chair. The man held the wig in his hand and occasionally fanned himself with it.Otherwise, you would be conducting interrogations in the boudoir? he asked the official with a wry smile. “I asked why this woman has her hands tied?” The dark-haired woman raised her head, and Catherine de Goe's eyes blazed at the blond-haired man. Smiling tartly, she shrugged her shoulders.Your Grace, - the official hurried, needlessly fiddling with quills on the table in front of him. This woman is dangerous. She is a witch,” he said in a whisper, leaning towards the visitor.What
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During the three days allotted by the Minister of Police to the executioner and his henchmen, interrogators worked replacing each other on torture instruments. One day, Katerina, who came to her senses, having gathered all her strength, nevertheless touched her hands, half crushed by one of the assistants, to the head of the nearest person, predicting his painful death in a few hours. According to her, the poor fellow really died, writhing in agony, as if he had been burned alive. The enraged executioner, during one torture, pulled out Katerina's joints so much that her hands simply could not rise. We cannot say how the method of murder used by Catherine, called in our time "death touch" or "delayed death" and which came to Europe from China, how this method became known to Catherine de Gau. Whether her crusader ancestors during campaigns in the Holy Land and meetings with various merchants at the intersection of trade routes suffered Chinese tricks and inherited their talen
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Hearing a thump in the corridor, a man in a wig, sitting in a spacious burgundy armchair, leisurely folded the letter he had read before and hid it in the folds of a spacious dressing gown. He waved reassuringly at a man in a frayed cassock, huddled in another armchair near the fireplace, and clasped his hands on the knee of his leg, which was wrapped in a snow-white stocking and laid on the other. The man in the cassock emerged anxiously from his massive and fat body, but a new wave of the graceful man's hand made him again draw his head into his fat shoulders. Meanwhile, the footsteps were getting closer. And soon the door to the hotly heated room swung open without knocking, and on the threshold appeared a disheveled nun in a black cassock, girded with an ordinary rope.- Did you hear what happened in Zhevodan? he shouted excitedly, shaking the scribbled paper. “Have you heard of the beast from Gévaudan?” No? Well, then soon all of France will hear about it! What the hell is thi
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Straightening the letter on his knee, he looked up at the fat man by the fireplace.So. You, Justine, are a monk of the Order of Saint Francis...Abbot of the monastery in Beza, - a fat monk squeaked from his chair. Bertrand calmly continued:A man of the Church, invested with power by Cardinal Lombard, a faithful Jesuit of Rome, a favorite of the Bishop of Rossillon, a faithful follower of the Catholic Church, you have decided to bring a letter from one of my family's heretics to me, whom you consider a spawn of Satan. Explain it to me, dear Justine. The fat monk tossed and turned in his chair, turning over the wooden rosary in his hands.You see, sir," he began, in a slightly trembling voice. Your relative is concerned about the behavior of his younger brother. It seems to him that the beast from Zhevaudan, which Gaspard talked about, is his brother. True, he cannot catch him on this yet. But, if the district finds out about this, he is afraid that angry residents
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Dawn caught Bertrand de Gault and Father Justine, the abbot of the monastery in Beze, accompanying him, on a country road past rare trees, still bare from winter, vast fields with ravens circling above them with a loud cawing, and rare fetid streams that suddenly appeared in front of them as if from nowhere. The fat monk, woken up in the middle of the night, sat uncertainly in the saddle, falling over first on one side, then on the other, from which his sleepy slumber stopped for a moment. Bertrand, looking cheerful and fresh, impatiently urged on his horse, occasionally throwing mocking glances at his companion. At noon, they passed a small town, in which there was tension and hidden anger. While the abbot quenched his insatiable appetite at one of the inns, Bertrand, who had a quick bite to eat, walked around the city, listening and looking closely at the excitement surrounding him. There was talk of the king, who was almost openly vilified for having an affair wit
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Passing through dark corridors, they came to an ordinary, unremarkable door. Stopping beside her, Guillaume took several deep breaths and took out from his bosom the key that hung around his neck on a rope. After two turns, the door opened and the relatives entered an ordinary room, which gave the impression of being neglected and uninhabited. Going to a massive closet, Guillaume flung open the doors. There was nothing in the closet, except for a side shelf on the right side and a massive iron door in its rear wall. Fumbling on the shelf, Guillaume found a bunch of keys and one by one began to unlock the locks on the door. Bertrand chuckled but said nothing. When the last lock was unlocked, Guillaume, leaning on the door with his shoulder, opened it with a creak.I don't offer you the world. Vikt o ru doesn’t need him, neither do I,” he said without turning around. Without waiting for Bertrand's answer, he pushed his way through the gap.Hospitable host, - Bertrand muttere
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Passing along a narrow and low corridor, Guillaume stopped at another iron door. Without looking at Bertrand, he muttered:He is there. Bertrand nodded. Guillaume hesitated, but unlocked the door. Bertrand's eyes met a huge stone hall, in which torches smoked. Water was running down the damp walls in some places. The darkness, which the torches could not illuminate, went forward and upward. The echo of footsteps echoed around, voicing the chilling atmosphere of hopelessness and grave peace that reigned.Strange," Guillaume muttered. “I thought I was putting out the torches here. He stepped forward, lighting his way with a torch taken from the wall. Shrugging his shoulders, Bertrand followed him. Ahead was clearly heard someone muttering and moaning, screaming and howling. Bertrand instinctively put his hand on the hilt, but then he laughed softly. Against the Zhevodan beast, not a sword, but a good club or mortar is needed. Captain Diomele with h
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