Read Online Hellbound Hearts by Marie O'Regan, Paul Kane - Free Book Online

communication beyond gesture, he grew into a natural pragmatist. As often as he wishfully turned the tiles over in his hands, he also knew that fate would roll her dice as and when she was ready. That part of the puzzle was not in his control. For the main, in the years that followed, Arkady got on with the business of growing up and working hard for the widow, for Sasha, and for Sasha’s new wife, Elena.
    But the confessions found him all the same; eight more over the next six years. In a side street while trying to make a shortcut on his deliveries for the widow, a sobbing fat man told him that his wife had not died of a fever the winter before as was believed, but that when it seemed that she might recover, he pressed a pillow over her face, not being able to bear the thought of more years chained to hernatural misery. He’d seen her ghost though, every day since. Arkady nodded and passed the man by.
    A drunk told him how he liked to creep into his small daughter’s bedroom when she slept and slide his hand under her nightdress. One of the most respected wives of the village told him how she craved the rough skin of workmen on her body and paid them to service her and thus make up for her husband’s impotence.
    Each stranger that found him in those isolated moments poured out the dark sins of their soul. They were eager to be free of their guilt without having to truly face justice; that much was clear in their hungry faces. Arkady could see the burdens lift from their shoulders as his ears took their words. When he left, they were always smiling, just as Ivan had been down by the river. Arkady didn’t begrudge them their happiness. By the third time, he knew what the next day’s outcome would be. A heart attack, an unfortunate fall, a sudden pox.
    He would listen for the slow toll of the church bell before pulling the box of tiles out from their safekeeping in his bed. With each death, a fresh piece would come to life, its veins of pattern turning bloodred. Arkady felt nothing for their deaths, but there was a quiet excitement that his soul couldn’t deny each time his trembling hands revealed the changes in the puzzle. When it was complete, then so would he be. By the time he was fourteen, there was only one dark tile left. As the first crisp leaves of snow fell outside his window that winter, for the first time in his life he felt a glimmer of warm hope. The completed pattern would free him from this half existence. He was sure of it.
    When the summer came, it was obvious it was time for a change in the living arrangements at the bakery. Sasha and Elena’s lively five-year-old twins were getting too big to sleep in the same room as their parents, and the baker’s wife’s belly was already growing a new sibling for the family. The house at the back of the shop was too crowded and the widow took it upon herself to rectify the situation.
    â€œI have arranged a new position for you, Arkady.” She smiled asshe spoke. She had grown fond of the boy in her own way over the years; he was a good worker and had never caused her any trouble. This change would be good for him. It would bring him some security. The boy looked up at her blankly.
    â€œYou are to work for the Boyar. You will go and live within the castle walls as a manservant.” She paused. “I think a young man like you will do well there.”
    Arkady knew what she meant. The Boyar could be considered a fair ruler as far as taxes and tithes were concerned, but stories that leaked from the high walls that surrounded his castle and the dwellings and merchants within told of excessive debauchery and pleasures taken in the most deadly of sins by their landlord and his knights and clergy. Those who were caught spreading the stories were often hung on crosses outside the castle walls, their beaten bodies soft for the buzzards that would circle and peck hungrily, tearing strips of flesh from the still living