The Girl with No Name
Copyright 2013 by Edward -EC-
EC's Erotic Fiction - /~caligula97030/

(warnings: public nudity, sex between adults, corporal punishment, maledom, 
humiliation, war violence, occult, language)

Chapter Thirty-Two – The Benefactor

The harvest was as pitiful as everything else about the children's destitute farm. 
Even with Vesna’s late-summer efforts to salvage the garden, its produce would 
have been barely enough to feed the occupants for a month. So… the failed 
harvest meant several trips to the market to purchase food for the winter, along 
with supplies needed for preserving vegetables, hay for Moonlight, and seeds to 
plant next year. Vesna was not surprised to spend most of her remaining silver on 
ensuring her hosts’ survival over the winter. After all, not having any wealth 
seemed to be her Path in Life.

She spent September and October organizing the harvest and teaching the 
children what she knew about preserving food and preparing the ground for 
planting the following spring. She tore down the chimney and built a new one 
with a better design that heated the house more efficiently and was not a fire 
hazard. She had to build a stable for her horse, using the boards from the pigsty 
and some of the fencing.

Vesna visited to the bookseller in Plátnackt Dék several times during the autumn 
to obtain information about the road repair and the flooded mine. As she 
suspected, the road was not repaired, even after the first snow fell in the 
mountains. During her final visit in October she bought a piece of slate, chalk, 
quills and an inkwell, and parchment. When Vesna and the children were driven 
indoors by the first snowfall in November, she announced how she planned to 
spend the winter: everyone in the household would learn to read and write.

So, Vesna spent the next five months cooped up with six children, teaching them 
writing and basic math. She taught them to sing hymns and campfire songs and 
how to pray to the Lord-Creator. She would have preferred to teach them to pray 
to the Ancients, but knew in the Vice-Duchy indoctrinating them as Followers 
would put their lives at risk. She entertained them with stories of her travels and 
her adventures during the wars of 1754 and 1758. She talked a lot about her year 
in the forest with the Followers and her studies at the university. She even talked 
about her time in the Grand Duke’s castle, but omitted the detail of performing 
sexual favors for the Sovereign.

She realized she was good at story-telling. She also learned about handling 
children. Margíckta was intimidated by Vesna, but at the same time deeply 
admired her. The girl matured over the winter and realized she had more potential 
than spending the final year of her life as a starving prostitute. Vesna talked to 
Margíckta and the younger girls at length about her experiences as a woman and 
what she knew about relationships with men. She talked to the boys about the 
various men she knew and what made some better than others. She explained 
about guilds and the military and about the rich and poor. By the end of the winter 
the older children had a fairly good grasp of the way the Realm of the Living 
worked. The younger children understood less, but perhaps in the future they’d 
know what questions they needed to ask.

When the spring of 1760 arrived, Vesna had to spend less time on lessons and 
more time worrying about the farm. She kept the children busy with spring 
planting. She returned to the marketplace to buy hens to re-stock the chicken coop 
and several piglets. When the owner of an adjacent farm died and the widow told 
Vesna she needed to sell a portion of the property, Vesna bought the land with 
five of her remaining pieces of silver. She had to buy more seed to plant in the 
new section, but she knew if the harvest went well, there would easily be enough 
food for the following winter, plus some extra produce to exchange in the market 
for cheese and tools.

By the beginning of May she had only four coins from the original fifty she had 
taken from Rika Chorna. She knew what she needed to do with her remaining 
silver. After the May-Day celebration she braided Margíckta’s hair. She then took 
the girl to a tailor in Plátnackt Dék to have her fitted for a dress. The girl was 
speechless as Vesna tied the yellow sash around her companion's waist, indicating 
she was available for marriage. Vesna struggled to hold back tears as the 
traumatic memory of her own failed effort to buy a dress forced itself into her 
thoughts. She was afraid to speak and let the girl hear her voice crack from 
emotion, so she tapped Margíckta and directed her to the church to obtain a 
citizenship certificate. She exchanged the last of her coins for the parchment and 
seal.

The two women, one wearing a new courting dress and the other wearing a simple 
working outfit, left the church. Margíckta still didn't know what to say to Vesna. 

As they exited the plaza into the marketplace, they passed the town’s pillory. 
Vesna stopped to examine one of the ankle-chains. She ran her fingertips over the 
links and opened the metal cuff. She turned to her companion.

“You know, I spent a day on the pillory, a few years ago.”

“You, Mistress Vesna?”

“Yes. I spent a day on the pillory because I wanted a dress so I could look for a 
husband. I was just like you, just as desperate, and just as willing to do stupid 
things. To pay for the dress, I stole apples... from a farmer. He had me arrested, 
but then he repented and saved my life. So, you're not the only one. I know what 
it is to be poor and not have a dress.”

"But... last fall... you did have money, Mistress Vesna. Why didn't you...?"

"It wasn't my Path in Life. It just wasn't. So I never bought the dress... at least not 
for myself. Instead, I bought it for you."

“I don’t know what to say, Mistress Vesna… how to thank you.”

“I don’t want you to thank me. Words don’t mean anything. What matters is what 
you do with your time in the Realm of the Living, not what you say about it. The 
only way you can thank me is to find a decent husband and lead a decent life. The 
neighbor boy two farms from yours… what about him? He seems nice.”

“Yes, Mistress Vesna. I was thinking about him.”

“Certainly he’d be better than what you were thinking about doing last year, don’t 
you agree?”

Margíckta blushed and nodded.

----------

Vesna spent some of her spare time exercising her horse and preparing him for 
traveling. She still hoped to return to the western valley before the end of the 
summer. The road was clear and the marauding workers had gone back into their 
mine, so the danger was greatly reduced, although not completely eliminated. 

As she thought about her plan to return to the western valley, Vesna watched with 
rising hopes as the neighbor courted Margíckta. If he married her and moved to 
the farm, the children would become the young couple’s responsibility and she’d 
be free to leave. Unfortunately, because protocol required several months of 
courtship before marriage, it was unlikely Margíckta would marry in time for 
Vesna to make it through the mountains before the first snow. Maybe that wasn’t 
so bad. There were worse places she could spend a year than a farm with a bunch 
of kids. She fervently prayed to the Ancients for an answer to her question, should 
she stay another year at the farm or try to figure out how to make the children 
independent enough so she could leave. 

The answer to her prayers came in late June, the day after the summer solstice. A 
ragged, wretched-looking man showed up on the property. Vesna ran into the 
house to grab her crossbow and make him leave, but when she went back out, she 
saw the children gathered around him, hugging him. He was Tanélickt’s son; the 
prospector everyone thought had died the previous year.

At first the man was extremely happy to see the farm and the children in such 
good condition. That happiness vanished when he found out his father, his wife, 
and his sister were dead. He ate a quiet dinner, thinking about his failed excursion 
in the mountains and the loss of his relatives during his absence. He had been 
irresponsible in his desperation to find silver, but it was his family that suffered as 
the result. Vesna consoled him with hard logic.

“Well, the only way you can redeem yourself is to stay here and take care of your 
kids. You have a nice farm if you work the land, and I’ve taught the children how 
to do that. Margíckta is courting right now, so her Path in Life looks good. What 
happens to the others is up to you. You’re the father.”

“I… don’t know… how to thank you for what you’ve done.”

“In a way, you’ve already thanked me. I prayed for an answer to my question 
about leaving the Vice-Duchy before the end of the summer. I wanted to go, but I 
didn’t want to abandon the kids or leave before Margíckta got married. You’re 
back, so now I can resume my Path in Life of wandering. You can thank me every 
day by making sure this farm is a safe place to live and feed your children. That’s 
all I’m asking of you.”

As Vesna prepared to resume her journey, her host realized he could partially 
return the huge favor she had done for his family. He knew the mine region very 
well, so he told her about the various paths and lanes traversing the area, 
emphasizing the ones that were the safest and the ones that were the easiest to 
move through on a horse. She marked various locations on her map as she 
listened to his advice. Vesna finally had the knowledge she needed to successfully 
make the voyage to Sevérckt nad Gorádki.

----------

Vesna rode to Plátnackt Dék wearing her worker’s dress. She spent the short 
summer night exchanging information with the map-maker. He gave her a parting 
gift, a small compass. Shortly before sunrise she changed into her guard outfit and 
left the town.

She rode though a region of impoverished farming homesteads. As the terrain 
became steeper she passed through sheep pastures. The road became steeper and 
narrower as it traversed a series of rocky hills that divided the settled area from 
the forest. The only people she saw along the road were miners hauling ore or 
workers taking up supplies. Following her map and the advice of Tanélickt’s son, 
she left the main road and followed a side trail. She camped briefly before 
resuming her journey at daybreak. Towards the end of the day she came across a 
small meadow where Moonlight could graze. She decided not to go any further 
that day. Instead, she stripped off her clothing and spent her time praying to the 
Ancients for guidance.

She spent the following six weeks slowly traveling west. During that entire time 
she did not see another human. She had to stop to hunt and gather mushrooms and 
berries while letting Moonlight browse. During much of the journey she walked, 
and whenever she walked, she was naked, according to the custom of the 
Followers. She didn’t have to think about anything apart from making sure she 
was going in the right direction and day-to-day survival. She was alone and 
independent, not having to please anyone except herself and the Ancients who 
continued to protect her and guide her journey. For the first time she did not have 
to meet anyone’s expectations. All she had to do was keep moving at a pace of 
her own choosing.

If surviving in the mountains during the winter not been a concern, Vesna would 
have been content to spend the rest of her time in the Realm of the Living 
traveling through the forest and avoiding contact with other people. However, she 
noticed the days already were becoming shorter and the nights longer. 
Occasionally there was a hint of chill in the air to remind her the summer would 
not last much longer and she would have to leave her temporary paradise. 

After several weeks of navigating the trails, she was able to see cleared flat 
farmland in the distance whenever she was at a vantage point that offered her a 
view to the west. She knew she was looking at the western valley, meaning she 
had escaped from the Vice-Duchy. The area around her was starting to look 
familiar. The path led into a wider lane. She looked through the trees and saw a 
wagon crew hauling a load of cave-charcoal. Yes, she knew exactly where she 
was, she was close to one of the Followers’ mines. The wagon crewmembers 
were not Followers, however. Vesna realized the mine must have been taken over 
by outsiders.

She avoided the road as she descended towards Sevérckt nad Gorádki. However, 
as she neared the grassy hills with the sheep pastures, she had no choice: she had 
to end her time alone in the Realm of Nature and re-enter civilization. She put on 
her guard’s clothing, but left off the helmet and the Vice-Duchy’s tunic. As 
always, she loaded her crossbow and was vigilant for trouble. She rode towards 
the town, taking the same route she had taken in the opposite direction nearly a 
decade before with the odious lover who had treated her so cruelly.

As she looked at the steeples and rooftops of Sevérckt nad Gorádki, she saw the 
familiar buildings, including the large house where she had lost her virginity and 
where her former lover Káloyankt was undoubtedly still living with his family. 
She had heard that he was doing well and that the town continued to prosper 
under his family's influence. However, she had no desire to see him. A visit from 
her would only disrupt the tranquility of his Path in Life. She’d not go into the 
town. Instead, she’d let her horse graze among the sheep and would continue 
traveling south the following day.

So… she had safely returned to the western valley. At sunset she took off her 
guard outfit and prayed to the Ancients. She thanked them for allowing her to 
escape the Vice Duchy, but what should she do now? Where should she go? What 
was her Path in Life? She had no home, no friends, no commitments, no 
commanders, no duties or promises to fulfill, and no purpose. She had no silver. 
She had nothing, except for a horse and a couple of weapons. What now?

When she stood up, she looked towards the south. Beyond Sevérckt nad Gorádki 
there was little except farms and orchards. There was Starívktaki Móskt, but she 
certainly didn’t want to go there. The only other place she could go to would be 
Gordnáckt Suyástenckt. 

Of course… that’s where she could go. She’d visit her former mentor, the 
Priestess who had taught her to read. She’d have a place to stay and someone to 
give her advice until she figured out what to do. She got dressed the following 
morning and rode south. She moved quickly as Moonlight galloped and trotted 
along the lanes between the orchards. She reached her destination by the end of 
the week.

When she entered the church, Vesna knelt upright as she waited for the Priestess. 
She felt very strange because it would be the first time her former mentor would 
see her wearing clothing. She would have felt more at ease had she stripped and 
put on her penance collar, but she knew that part of her life had passed. Whatever 
the future held for her, she’d have to stop running around the Duchy pretending to 
be performing Public Penance.

The Priestess greeted her and told her to stand up. In the two years since Vesna's 
last visit she had aged and had added another child to her family, but her 
demeanor and her haughty way of carrying herself remained the same as always.

Vesna had to undergo ritual purification and confession, but since she no longer 
was performing Public Penance, the two women could talk to each other more as 
equals. After talking about the revenge against Oana and her participation in 
Enockt’s group of conspirators, the visitor explained her new identity and how 
she started using it in the eastern valley. The Priestess agreed it would be better 
for her to keep the new name and issued a citizenship certificate for Vesna 
Rogúskt from the Vice-Duchy of Rika Chorna.

Vesna stayed at the church for a week resting, cleaning her equipment, praying, 
and telling her host additional details about what she had learned in the Vice-
Duchy. The two women wrote down Vesna’s observations about the region and a 
detailed account of the destruction of the True Believers’ cathedral in Sihídikti 
Ris. The Priestess later would send the information to the Great Temple so the 
Prophets could add the account to the archives of the Danubian Church.

The Priestess updated Vesna concerning news from the western half of the Duchy. 
She related that the Old Believers had taken over all of the parishes in the western 
valley. The only exception was the church in Rika Héckt-nemát. A decade after 
the plague, the city remained sealed-off and no one knew what was going on there 
or if any of its residents were even still living. The people from the neighboring 
towns were convinced the city was cursed, so no one dared to venture past the 
guards stationed to close off the road going in. Even talking about the city was 
considered a violation of protocol.

----------

Vesna had entered Gordnáckt Suyástenckt assuming her former servant Isauria 
would not be there, that she had departed the previous summer to go to Sebérnekt 
Ris. She had indeed left to enroll in university. The Priestess let her visitor read a 
couple of Isauria's letters. She already completed her first year, was about to begin 
her second year, and seemed to be doing well as a student. 

The Priestess detailed how she had spent the winter of 1758-1759 helping the girl 
transcribe all of her former mistress’s writings into university-quality reports, 
supplemented by books borrowed from the seminary’s library in neighboring 
Starívktaki Móskt. Isauria spent part of the winter at the old Temple doing her 
research and sitting in on some of the classes for the apprentices.

“Your former servant changed over the year she stayed with us. I don’t know if I 
could say she matured, but she did change. She likes the Realm of Fantasy and to 
write poems and stories about spirits and legends and tragic mysteries. The stories 
about you, the ones circulating around Starívktaki Móskt casting you as the evil 
seducer and murderer of poor Bagatúrckt, completely fascinated her. She spent 
her spare time talking to people and collecting those tales and writing them down, 
so she could convert them into poems and fiction. She likes to do that, take old 
stories, embellish them, and re-tell them. That’s something about her that doesn’t 
please me. I’ve told her the Destroyer enters the Realm of the Living through the 
mouth of the liar, but she wouldn’t heed my advice to only write truthful things 
about you.”

"I hope she’s not using my real name.”

“Not at all. She likes the mystery. She wants to make you even more mysterious, 
so she never refers to you by name. She’s fascinated with you, but she’s not 
fascinated with the real you. She’s developed a fantasy version of you, turned you 
into a fictional character for her writings. When I read what she's written, I 
wonder how much she really remembers about you.”

“I suppose that’s just as well: her turning me into a poetry character will help me 
avoid being identified and arrested. But, I wonder… Isauria with her poems… and 
all those other people making up stories about me… I wonder where it will end.”

“I’ve wondered that too. The stories about your adventures haven’t gone away. 
I’ve traveled to different villages and everywhere I’ve gone people remember you, 
but they don’t remember the real you. What they remember are their fantasies 
about you.”

"But I don't... understand. Why all the stories? What's so interesting about me? 
I've spent ten years wandering and I've really accomplished nothing. I survived, 
nothing more. I lost everyone around me, either through death or just saying 
goodbye. I'm as alone now as I was when I started out. What's so exciting or 
romantic about that?"

"I don't have the answer. I wish I did. I guess people tell stories because it's what 
they need to do. It would seem Isauria is only one out of many. And why you? 
Why not someone else? I don't know."

“So Priestess, what should I do? How can I live anywhere if there are all these 
strange tales circulating about me wherever I go?”

The Clergywoman thought for a moment before ordering Vesna to kneel. She 
grabbed her hands and prayed. The Priestess’s hands clamped down on those of 
her visitor as her arms shook violently. She let go and told Vesna to stand up.

“You need to go home.”

“What?”

“You need to return to Rika Héckt-nemát.”

“I… I can’t go there.”

“Oh really? And where else would you go? You’ve told me yourself you don’t 
want to go to any other city. Whether you’re a wanted fugitive or there’s a person 
you don’t want to see, you’re convinced there’s nowhere for you to go. Your Path 
in Life is to return to Rika Héckt-nemát. The city needs you to go back.”

“But… what about... my arrest... and all those people... thinking I drowned in the 
river… and… looking for my body?”

“That happened to the peasant Danka Síluckt. She’s dead and there’s no proof she 
ever existed apart from a bunch of legends that don’t even use her real name. 
You’re Vesna Rogúskt, the traveler from Rika Chorna. You have the paperwork 
to prove it. You have nothing to do with the peasant Danka Síluckt. So… I’m 
telling you the Path of Your Life is to return to Rika Héckt-nemát.”

“But… go back… to a dead city… and what would I do there?”

“The Creator didn't enlighten me about what you will do there. All I know is you 
must go back, as soon as possible. And I’ll tell you how to go. You can’t go in 
through any of the main roads because they’re blocked by Royal Guards. The 
only way in is a smugglers’ trail that goes through the forest and comes up from 
the south.”

“So there are people still alive…”

“There must be, if smugglers are going in.”

----------

Vesna left the following morning, wearing her guard outfit. She wore a tunic with 
the insignia of the Danubian Church to let others know she was traveling with the 
blessing of the Clergy. Moonlight trotted south through farmland and orchards, as 
Vesna bypassed Starívktaki Móskt and headed straight south towards the main 
road. She followed it for a while, reliving the journey she had taken along the 
same route a decade before. She crossed the Rika Chorna River and passed the 
spot where she saw the stage-coach accident and the farm where she first saw 
goats. She looked west towards some forested hills. Rika Héckt-nemát lay on the 
other side of those hills, but she couldn’t go that way because a garrison of Royal 
Guards blocked the road. Instead, she went south and stayed overnight at the 
chapel in a village at the southern edge of the cleared area.

She went into the woods and followed a narrow trail through the hills. The path 
continued south for a while until it arrived at a fork. The left fork continued south 
towards Hórkustk Ris province. She took the right fork, which turned west and 
would eventually lead her home.

She had hoped to complete the trip before nightfall, but when she noticed the 
darkness closing in on her she knew she needed to look for a place to stop. She 
found a cleared spot near a stream, just large enough to set up her bedroll and tie 
her horse. She was very apprehensive: she knew what was coming.

The night was pitch-black, so she didn’t need to wait for darkness to surround her. 
Instead she waited for the sound of the stream to go silent. She heard the soft 
flutter of a large bird. Its eyes glowed, reflecting non-existent light. Vesna stood 
up. She knew what else was coming: the ground grabbed her feet. The eyes 
slowly grew until they filled her entire range of vision. She had to wait a long 
time before the Destroyer spoke to her.

“Danka… Danka… Danka Síluckt”

“Yes.”

“It’s been a decade, hasn’t it? Well, almost a decade. Not that it matters 
anymore.”

“Matters anymore? Why? Why do you say that?”

“This is the last time you’ll ever see me, Danka Síluckt. Whether you wanted to 
or not, you’ve served me well, but your travels are about to conclude, and I must 
release you.”

“Release me?”

There was a long pause, as Danka stared into the unblinking yellow eyes.

“Yes indeed, release you. I have no further use for you, Danka Síluckt, so it is 
time for our Paths in Life to separate. You will not see me again. You will 
understand that I am leaving you because I have chosen to spare you, just as I 
have chosen to spare the Duchy. Other places in the Realm of the Living will 
receive my attention. The Duchy, at least for the foreseeable future, will not.”

The eyes began to fade.

“Goodbye, Danka Síluckt.”