Act XV, Hyperpolia (Part 5)
five
The two men huddled together around the campfire, using straw as a mat, to sleep. Yakov's arm was wrapped around Yubi's waist, his fingers constantly getting licked by the dogs' tongues, requiring him to muster the energy to shoo them away. Eventually, the furry animals curled up behind their knees, making them feel warmer.
“We’ve taken over their sleeping spot,” Yubi muttered quietly with her eyes closed. “Maybe they were transformed humans too.”
“Don’t believe that,” Yakov mumbled above him. “It’s all superstition, a bunch of lies.”
Why would an old woman lie to people for no reason?
“Of course, it’s to scare people, to prevent them from harming her.” Yakov tightened his arms around her. “Quiet down, it’s time to sleep.”
“What if it’s not a lie? If there are vampires, can’t there be witches?” Yubi opened her eyes, rolled over, and pressed herself against his beard. “I’m still hungry. Give me your neck!”
As Yakov reluctantly pulled down his collar, Yubi's gaze secretly slipped over his shoulder to the bed on the other side of the campfire—the Chude "witch" was sleeping with her back to them, her thin, small body hidden in the shadows. The vampire removed her ring, scrutinizing the terrifying and evil heretic the monk had described, trying to uncover her secrets: but there were no secrets to be found, only an old, frail body of flesh and blood. Like everyone else, her heart beat the same, and blood flowed through her veins the same.
Yubi thought to himself, a mere mortal riddled with illness. He tentatively accepted Yakov's words.
But the first thing Yubi heard the next day was: "You can't stay here for free, you have to pay me."
He and Yakov opened their bleary eyes together and found that the homeowner had already added firewood to the campfire and was furiously pounding a mortar with a pestle, the clattering sound extremely annoying, threatening to wake them. "All the young people are so lazy," she muttered bitterly, "The sun is already high in the sky!"
Yubi rubbed his eyes and got up, opening the door to peek out. The sky outside was still barely dawn, the moon and stars clearly visible. He yawned painfully and looked helplessly at Yakov—the Slav was staring at him with his empty purse, a stark reminder of his penniless status.
“…We’re new here and have spent all our savings,” Yubi explained. “Could you be lenient and let us pay it back later?”
"Oh, trying to renege on your debt." His mother-in-law, busy at the kitchen counter, immediately shut him up with a sharp remark, "You're so young and your character has already deteriorated."
"No, that's not the case. We live in the old mill to the south... You can find us there anytime once the furnace is repaired."
"Do you plan to stay here every night until the stove is repaired? You shameless robbers."
“…We didn’t mean to renege on our debt, really!” Yubi’s anger flared up. “You shouldn’t have said that; you should apologize to us!”
As soon as he finished speaking, he heard Yakov clear his throat—how could he have spoken to a poor, lonely old woman in such a tone? Yubi looked at her rough fingers under her sleeves and her gray hair beneath her headscarf, and involuntarily shut his mouth, thinking ashamedly for a moment. “…What do you suggest we do?” he whispered. “We really have no money left.”
The old woman refused to turn around, and the sound of her pounding the pestle stopped. Yubi waited anxiously for her response, her eyes constantly glancing at Yakov. But Yakov paid no attention, simply wandering around the small room.
“I’d like to borrow this,” Yakov said, pointing to the iron chisel in the corner. “It’ll be used to repair the stove.”
“Don’t lend it to her, she definitely won’t want to…” Yubi hurriedly went to stop him, her steps being tripped by the enthusiastic rough-haired dog. “Let’s find another place to stay tonight.”
Just then, the sound of pestle and mortar striking rang out again. Yubi also heard a witch-like laugh drifting from the kitchen counter, which inexplicably felt sinister.
"The big one can go fix the stove, so what about the little one? Is he just going to sit around doing nothing?" The witch slowly turned her head, a cunning glint in her eyes. "Why don't you stay and work for me to pay off your debt!"
Yakov left Yubi's complaints behind, picked up his chisel, and walked along the road in a cheerful mood. The snow had stopped, and a thin layer had accumulated on the ground, making it less muddy and difficult to walk on. He soon returned to the old mill and saw some people waiting for him at the door, all of them with faces similar to his and speaking the same mother tongue.
“We heard some new people have moved here,” a woman said, carrying a basket of rye bread. “Where are you from?”
"Are you a Christian?" a man asked, holding a small icon of Christ. "I heard from a monk that you can speak Latin."
"That sword is beautiful!" A big, honest-looking man looked at his waist. "Do you know how to fight?"
Yakov nodded and answered them one by one, then squeezed to the front and opened the door, letting the harsh sunlight slant into the room. "Do you know where to find a blacksmith?" he asked first. "The stoves here are so hot they make your eyes water."
The men looked at each other in bewilderment. “The blacksmith left in the autumn,” they said. “Black stoves sting the eyes; only a lord can afford a white stove.”
“I’ve seen Roman fireplaces.” Yakov removed his cloak and gripped the chisel in his hand. “All that’s missing is a chimney so the smoke can escape.”
Before astonished eyes, he hammered his chisel into the clay and pebbles, breaking open the towering top of the furnace. Then he went to the riverbank, bending over to find suitable mortar and stones. When a pit of mortar had formed on the ground, Yakov saw people helping him gather stones.
"It's cold, we have to get this done quickly!" The woman put down her bread basket. "We'll freeze to death without a stove."
"Once it's fixed, come and see my fireplace too." The man placed the statue in the corner. "I'll help you with that too."
"What do you want?" The big man rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms. "Just tell me."
Yakov glanced at the crowd and returned a somewhat awkward smile. "Thank you," he said gratefully.
They cleaned the furnace and crawled inside to find the location of the flue. When they emerged, Yakov was covered in soot, his face and hair obscured. He built a narrow doorway at the back of the furnace with stones, then smoothed it with a mixture of mud and dry grass, slowly piling it into a hollow pillar that led to the wall. Yakov had to break a hole in the intact wooden wall so the smoke could escape. As dusk fell, he realized that what should have taken several days to complete had been almost finished in a single day with everyone's help.
“If it doesn’t snow, the mud will dry quickly. We can turn on the fire tomorrow,” the big man said. “So, where are you staying tonight?”
“I live in the north.” Yakov washed his face with the cold river water. “There was someone who came with me. We spent the night at the Chu people’s house last night.”
These words caused an uproar among those present, and everyone made the sign of the cross on their chests.
"You stayed at Grandma Yaga's house last night!" the woman exclaimed anxiously. "If you go near her house, you'll either be cursed or eaten!"
"That woman doesn't believe in Christ, she's bewitched by the devil, she's a heretic, a witch!" the man declared emphatically. "Her house is full of people turned into animals, digging bones from graves to use as bowls and plates!"
"Your partner is probably in grave danger!" The big man suddenly stood up from the ground.
Yakov wanted to laugh, but he held it back. If witches and devil worshippers truly existed, they probably couldn't curse a vampire, could they? He thought, as long as people believed in these supernatural tales, others would use them for self-preservation—a useful weapon nonetheless. "I'll go see him," he said, getting up and casually brushing the dust off his clothes. "I'm not afraid of witches."
"I'm not afraid either!" But the man immediately picked up the iron chisel from the ground and ran north, "I'll go with you!"
Yakov rolled his eyes amidst the rising and falling prayers. He had no choice but to move on and follow the footprints in the snow.
The two ran all the way to the edge of the birch forest, shivering as they looked at the nearby graveyard. "...I heard that if you recite the name of the Virgin Mary before entering, the witch can't harm you!" the big man said, gripping his chisel with trembling hands. "You go knock on the door, I'll follow you!"
Yakov, annoyed, tried to push him away—but there was no need; the man was already too frightened to come in. So Yakov stood at the door himself and called out twice, "I'm back," he said. "Open the door for me."
"The door's unlocked!" came Yubi's angry voice from inside. "Come in yourself!"
Yakov's eyebrows twitched, and he reached out to push open the door. By the campfire, Yubi, sleeves rolled up and soaking wet, was scrubbing an unusually large pickling barrel with a horsehair brush, his hair a tangled mess from exhaustion. Two rough-haired dogs were playing at his feet, rubbing foam against their noses. Yakov watched as they knocked over a basin of water.
“This is your first time doing this, isn’t it?” Yakov pointed. “The cracks are full of mold, and you’re just ignoring it.”
"...Stop nitpicking!" Yubi glared at him. "She's a real witch; she's made me wash her three times already!"
"Witch." The moment the word was uttered, the man behind Yakov burst through the door, chisel in hand. "Damn witch!" he yelled with his eyes closed, "Don't even think about harming people to eat them!"
Before his dirty shoes could even touch the clean ground, Yakov grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. "Where's the witch?" Yakov shouted into his ear, as if to wake him up. "My friend wasn't harmed or eaten; he's sitting there perfectly fine."
The big man finally dared to open his eyes and look inside. "...No witch?" He looked around the warm, clean house. "God help me!"
"No praying in this room," Yakov wanted to add a few more words of caution. But in the blink of an eye, a short figure darted out and splashed a bowl of bright red liquid onto the big man's face.
"Get out!" Chu Deren cursed. "If you enter my house, your face will fester and you will go blind within three days!"
A foul, fishy stench wafted from Yakov's side—it was a bowl of chicken blood, poured all over his head and face. Yakov saw a live earthworm crawling disgustingly on his nose.
The big man let out a terrible howl, as if truly cursed, and fled in panic, dropping his chisel. Just as Yakov was about to laugh at him, a rough, aged finger reached down onto his chin.
"And you," she said fiercely, "you brought back something unclean and offended me. Find yourself a place to stay tonight!"
Something unclean? Yakov wondered. Was his clothes covered in charcoal ash, or had he eaten some foul-smelling dried salted fish? Before he could figure it out, and without even saying goodbye to the dumbfounded Yubi, the low wooden door slammed shut in front of him, making the sound of the latch locking.
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