Death and the Lady

Chapter 1: Death and the Lady

She opened her eyes to complete darkness surrounding her. Confused memories flitted briefly through her mind. Memories of pain and fire and falling into a smoky abyss. The fading echoes of screams and crashing debris clanged in her ears. She vaguely recalled a painful piercing sensation running through her right leg.

As she stood, these confused images and sounds faded and filled up with darkness. Looking around her she took a step forward. There was a moment of slight resistance and then it fell away. She looked down at the ground she was standing on and frowned at the strange white shadow that spread out in front of her.

“Hello?” she called out. The darkness drank in the sound of her voice.

The ground under her feet was gritty, like sand on stone. The place was both claustrophobic and vast as the darkness pressed in from all sides. Bending down she dipped a hand into the sand and let the black grains tumble slowly through her fingers. They floated down slowly, like dust in an old, sealed up house.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

There was a sound suddenly, like the tread of someone approaching. The tread was measured and unhurried, as though the person had all the time in the world. Turning her head, she could see a darker shape approaching. It took a moment for her to realise that the person was quite tall, maybe pushing past 7 foot. Draped from head to toe in a black robe and walking with a curved staff, the figure stopped a few feet from her.

She looked into the darkness of the cowl and couldn’t make out the face, but she did see two pinpoints of blue light which must have been the reflection in the figure’s eyes. But the reflection of what light?

LILITH KNIGHTLY? the figure asked.

It took a moment to realise that the words had not been spoken out loud, but had appeared in her mind. The voice was deep and laden, like the slam of leaden doors.

“Yes?” she asked. Strangely, there was no fear. She didn’t feel anything. It was as though her mind had gone completely blank of any emotion. Thoughts came quickly and with surprising clarity.

The figure seemed to pause for a moment, as though measuring her in some strange capacity. It seemed to reach a decision.

FAIR LADY, THROW THOSE COSTLY ROBES ASIDE. NO LONGER MAY YOU GLORY IN YOU PRIDE. TAKE LEAVE OF ALL, YOUR CARNAL, VAIN DELIGHT. I HAVE COME TO SUMMON YOU AWAY THIS NIGHT.

The words triggered something in her mind and she spoke without needing to think. She knew this phrase, and felt the next phrase trot onto her tongue without even the slightest need of thought.

“What bold attempt is this? Pray, let me know from whence you come, and where I must go. Shall I, who am a Lady, stoop or bow to such pale visage? Who art thou?”

The figure moved as though readjusting the grip on the staff. It seemed surprised at the speed and alacrity with which she answered him.

DO YOU NOT KNOW ME? I WILL TELL YOU THEN: I AM HE THAT CONQUERS ALL SONS OF MEN. NO PITCH OF HONOUR FROM MY DART IS FREE. MY NAME IS DEATH! HAVE YOU NOT HEARD OF ME?

The memory of the ballad fell into her mind. Written by J. Deacon between 1600 and 1700 named Death and the Lady. She had learned it last semester for the art history competition. She and her partner had gotten first place for it. Strange that she couldn’t remember his name. She remembered how he had balked at such a sombre setting, but the art history professor had absolutely adored it and asked them to act it out again at the Freestyle Arts Festival.

“Yes, I have heard of thee, time after time, but being in the glory of my prime I did not think you would have come so soon. Must my morning sun go down at noon?”

The figure reached up and pushed the cowl away from its face. It slid off the polished dome of the skull and she found herself looking into the blue pinpoints that was all that resided in the dark sockets. the robes fell away from its hands and she saw the bony fingers curled around the staff. Strange, she thought, still no fear. It felt as though she was disconnected from her body, that she was merely reacting to everything with no emotion.

TALK NOT OF NOON, YOU MAY AS WELL BE MUTE! THERE IS NO TIME AT ALL FOR THIS VAIN DISPUTE! YOUR RICHES, GOLD AND GARMENTS, JEWELS BRIGHT, YOUR HOUSE AND LAND MUST ON NEW OWNERS LIGHT.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” she said suddenly, breaking the flow of the performance.

She felt that if that face could change, it would have scowled. It seemed to consider her for a moment and then nodded slowly.

“It’s strange that I don’t feel any fear.”

FEAR IS AN EMOTION. EMOTIONS ARE ONLY FOR THE LIVING.

They regarded each other in silence for a long moment. Lilith was thinking, regarding the shape standing in front of her.

 “So, what happens now?” she asked.

THAT DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU CHOOSE.

“What I choose?”

YES, he seemed to hesitate, I MUST ADMIT THAT I AM SURPRISED THAT YOU KNOW THE BALLAD SO WELL. TRULY YOU WERE A MARVELLOUS ACTRESS.

“Yes, I am.”

SUCH PRIDE!

“I worked hard for my skills. Pride is natural.”

Death regarded her again. I HAVE A PROPOSITION FOR YOU, LILITH KNIGHTLY. A CHALLENGE, IF YOU WILL, FOR YOUR LIFE.

Lilith thought for a moment, then she shrugged. She was dead in any case, maybe the challenge would be worthwhile. There was still so much that she wanted to do, so many things that needed to be done. It was too soon for her to die.

“Alright,” she said, “what is your challenge?”

TRADITIONALLY A GAME OF CHESS IS APPROPRIATE IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES, BUT I KNOW OF SOMETHING ELSE THAT YOU EXCEL AT OTHER THAN ACTING. A SKILL I CAN MAKE USE OF.

Lilith nodded. She knew about that. It was something she’d trained at since she could remember. A hobby, but one that she also took great pride it. Seen as a useless skill in today’s modern society. Strange that he should need it.

“And if I don’t agree to your proposition?”

YOU WILL COME AWAY WITH ME. IF YOU REFUSE MY PROPOSITION OR FAIL THE CHALLENGE, IT MATTERS NOT. THE CHOICE IS YOURS.

He moved his hand and there was a strange sound. The blade of the scythe slid out of the staff and glowed with a strange blue hue. It bathed them in its cold light.

ALL MUST KNEEL BEFORE ME AND BE TAKEN TO THEIR TIMELY REST. MAKE YOUR CHOICE, CHILD.

Lilith raised her head and looked him squarely in the face. “Then I accept your challenge. With the skill you claim to need, grant me a weapon.”

MANY HAVE TAKEN THIS CHALLENGE BEFORE YOU, AND MANY HAVE FAILED. THERE WILL BE NO SHAME IN REFUSING IT.

She shook her head. “Grant me a weapon.”

Death waved a hand and a sword appeared in the air beside her. It hung surrounded by the same blue glow that surrounded the scythe. It was a short, one handed sword. A simple design with a double-edged blade, pommel, hand guard and hilt. There was no ornamentation in it. It was a sword, simple and plain. A weapon to be used.

She reached out and took it, feeling the familiar weight of it fall into her hand. She didn’t waste time looking over it, but drew it back and stood ready.

Death lifted the scythe to both hands, holding it diagonally across his body. He seemed to grin, not that he had any choice in the matter. A scythe was not a good weapon, in the sense that it was heavy and sweeping, but it had a long range and weight behind it. Someone could do a lot of damage if they used it correctly. The key was to keep it moving.

She ran forward and ducked the initial sweep. She heard it pass over her head, whistling with the sound of tearing silk. She was inside his reach now, rising behind the scythe and lunging out with the sword. It connected with the deep folds of the robe, which boiled around the blade.

Like a spectre, the robes folded in on themselves and flew away from her. It landed a few feet away and rose to form Death again. Without hesitation he surged forward and she manged to deflect the swing of the scythe. The heavy hit made her arm go numb, but she managed to stagger away from the return swing.

Rolling, she came up and managed to deflect another swing. The sword twisted in her fingers and she nearly dropped it. She jumped away from Death and passed the sword to her other hand. Her arm and hand were stinging painfully from the momentum of the two hits.

She ran forward again, driven now. She could see a way through, a way to win. Death lifted his scythe again to block her blow, but she changed the angle of her sweep and felt the blade connect with the staff of the scythe. It sliced through the wood easily. Passing the sword back to her dominant hand she lifted it and thrust it into the skull, right between the eyes.

Around her the world froze with the point of the blade an inch from the skull. They hung in that frozen tableaux for what felt like an eternity. Her gaze was locked with his and she felt those blue pinpoints drawing her in, stripping her bare.

 She hung between the arms of Death himself and felt all pretence, everything that made her human, being stripped away, leaving the core of herself naked and exposed. Death reached forward and took that core in his hand, gripping it and drawing it to himself.

YOU HAVE PASSED THE CHALLENGE, CHILD, the voice of Death intoned all around her, echoed inside of her. BUT THERE IS A PRICE FOR YOUR VICTORY TODAY. RETURN NOW TO THE BROKEN BODY YOU LEFT BEHIND AND AWAIT THE TOLL THAT MUST BE PAID.

Lilith felt as though she was falling and crashed into something solid. There was a sudden piercing pain in her right leg and she tried to yell out, but smoke and heat choked her. Fire burned through her veins and she fought to breath through the thick, oily smoke that surrounded her.

Tears of pain and panic flowed over her face as the fire burned through her. Her muscles spasmed and rippled against her bones. She felt as though she was burning alive.

Was this to be her fate? Was she being sent back just to die again?

She opened her eyes and saw light that made her eyes ache. She tried to struggle, tried to move her arms and legs, but she was being pressed down by something heavy.

“Oh my God! She’s still alive!” a voice somewhere above her yelled out and she opened her eyes again. “Someone lift this thing off her!”

The heavy weight was lifted, but it dragged at her leg, making her scream again. She convulsed against the ripping pain and heard someone above her swear loudly.

“The rebar went through her leg. Someone stop that bleeding! She’ll bleed out!”

“She already has! Look at all this blood. She can’t have any more left.”

“She’s alive, damn it! Just stop that bleeding.”

Something heavy was pressed to her leg and she convulsed again. She tried to scream, but her throat felt as though it was on fire. She opened her eyes to see a man’s face inches from hers. The face was smoke blackened and mostly obscured by an air mask. She managed to make out the yellow and black of the fireman’s outfit.

Those eyes smiled down at her. “We'll get you out of here, miss. Don’t worry.”

Something was wound tightly around her leg and then she was lifted. She heard the men talking to each other, carefully positioning her and careful not to jostle her too much. She was carried out of the smoke and fire into cold, stinging air. She took huge gulps of the fresh air and felt the coldness sting her throat.

Memories flooded through her. The silence of the reading room with the hushed conversations all around. Then the great explosion and the screaming, the floor collapsing around her and the screams of her friends and classmates. Then the pain when she’d landed on the floor below. She remembered the sound of the building collapsing around her, the horrible sound of the breaking floor and then she’d been falling again.

And had woken up in darkness. She shook when a cool hand touched her cheek and she opened her eyes.

A youngish man was looking down at her. She recognised the red and white of the ambulance attendant uniform and she tried to talk. His eyes were piercing blue, that is what she remembered later. Fierce and piercing blue, staring into her, seeking something. Measuring her, which she thought strange at the time.

“What happened?” she rasped and felt her throat sting.

“There was an explosion and the building came down. It’s a miracle that you’re still alive,” he seemed to frown at this.  “You were trapped underneath the rubble for almost three hours.”

Other hands were working in her now. She felt the hands press her arm down and the stab of a needle. She rocked at the sudden pain and the man made soothing noises at her.

“It’ll be alright, you’re safe now. We’re taking you to the hospital. You’ll be fine.”

He called something to someone over his shoulder and she felt the trolley she was on start to move. It bounced over the uneven ground. Above her the roof of the ambulance appeared.

“What is your name?” the man asked and she fought to stay awake. Her vision was starting to fray at the edges.

“Lily,” she managed and heard the man acknowledge it.

“Your surname?”

“K… Knightly.”

“Stay with me Lily. How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“What do you do, lily?”

“I’m an art student, major in acting.”

She heard the slam of the ambulance doors and felt the rumble as the engine started up. The man was still beside her, still holding onto her hand. There were other people around her too, but she could only focus in on the man talking to her.

“You’re doing good, Lily. Tell me, do you have any allergies?”

It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. All she wanted was to sleep, to fall into painless abyss. Breathing felt as though blades were cutting into her chest and her arms and legs were heavy.

“Lily, stay with me now. Do you have allergies?”

“No,” she managed faintly.

Vaguely she could hear the wail of the sirens, but it sounded as though it was coming through water. It was distant and warbled. Her vision was darkening again and she tried to force herself awake. If she fell asleep now, she might not wake up again. Or she might wake up in darkness again.

Somehow, she longed for that darkness too, the emotionless, painless darkness. With the figure standing before her, challenging her. Had that really happened? Had she really challenged Death himself for her life?

She shook her head and felt hands holding it. “Don’t move your head, we can’t know the extent of your injuries until we get to the hospital.”

She was still in the ambulance, not in that darkness. Pain still ripped its way through her, but the burning in her veins had faded. She felt tiredness wash over her, making her thinking slow and fuzzy. Finally, she let the tiredness wash over her, no longer able to fight it. She heard the ambulance attendant calling to her, trying to bring her back, but she was too tired.

She became aware that she hung in darkness again, but this was not like before. She felt as weak as a new-born lamb, no longer willing to fight to stay awake. The pain started to fade away, like a distant memory.

Lily closed her eyes and drew a deep, slow, painless breath… and smelled the scent of Death. It was not an unpleasant smell. Old and slightly musty, like a room that had been closed for a while. She felt his arms around her, cradling her like a child as he walked down an endless hallway, his bony feet clicking on the floor.

“Are you here to exact your toll? Did I fail your challenge?” she asked as he carried her. “Are you taking me away with you?”

Death said nothing as he walked endlessly. The world filling with the soft sound of humming, like a finger on the edge of a glass. The humming filled her world, soothing and calming.

“This is a dream, isn’t it? But you are really here. You’ll always be near from now on, won’t you?” she smiled softly. “It’s not that bad of a thought, really.”

They walked in silence for a while and then Lily spoke again. Her voice came from a long way away, softly and sadly, the last words the Lady spoke to Death.

“Down from her eyes the crystal tears did flow. She says: No one knows what I now undergo. Upon my bed of sorrow here I lie, my selfish life makes me afraid to die…”

At the edge of hearing as darkness filled her vision again, she heard Death’s voice speak softly, almost kindly, the last words of the ballad. It was a sombre end to a sad story.

IF LIFE WERE MERCHANDISE THAT GOLD COULD BUY, THE RICH WOULD LIVE… ONLY THE POOR WOULD DIE.