SS1 - CHAPTER NINE

 After we had thanked our hosts for the lovely evening, Lothar and I made our way back to his house in near silence. Once we were inside, I asked him what his opinion was on the story. He made it clear that he believed it to the letter. I requested him to take me as far as possible along that route to Skopje so that we could return the same day. As he wasn’t too busy the next day, he agreed. As we retired to bed I thought of Joan, and the Raven’s words, “Remember, I have greater contacts and means to keep track of your every movement, than you would suspect at any stage of your mission.” rang through my head.

The next morning we started out early, so we could go as far as possible before turning back. We walked along an area that resembled a plateau till about noon. A little later on, the plateau seemed to merge into a mountain ridge with thick inaccessible jungle on either side. The only way ahead was along a narrow overgrown path right along the ridge. Before moving on to the ridge, we found a shady patch and sat down to satisfy our growling stomachs with some packed sandwiches that we had brought.

After lunch, we walked on a little way along the ridge. The landscape of that stretch of the ridge never varied very much. It was always the narrow clear strip at the top, surrounded by dense forest. I had just brought up the topic as to what might have happened to the soldiers when Lothar said, “As the other villagers of the time had no clue as to what took place, many of them owed the disappearance to some kind of creature living in the woods. Superstition has it that it attacks only around midnight. That is the reason why all of us at the village take such elaborate measures to secure our doors at night. The disappearance of those soldiers at night was not all. Every four or five years somebody or the other would disappear, always at night - somebody who refused to heed the warnings. Still in the village there are those who take these matters lightly, those who refuse to accept the existence of the creature. It is only when somebody dear to us inexplicably disappears, ”, a shadow of grief seemed to drift across his eyes, “ that we begin to wonder whether there is more to the superstitions than meets the eye.” We had arrived at the source of a small trickle, which seemed to gradually swell as it proceeded downhill.

By about three in the afternoon we decided that that was far enough for the day and were just beginning to retrace our steps when a waft of air brought with it a curious smell, one that my sensitive nose had never encountered before. It was a rather unpleasant smell and I paused for a moment wondering if Lothar had noticed it too. He spotted my hesitation, and looked at me knowingly, “ It’s the smell, isn’t it?” “ Yes, yes”, I replied. “What is it? I just cannot seem to place it.” Lothar eyed me momentarily and then spoke, uneasily, “ Have you ever heard of a Devil’s hole? Some old churches have them. It is a deep hole into which dead bodies were thrown. When opened, the smell that emanated from it was unbearably horrible. This smell, that presently seems to intrigue you so deeply is a toned down version of a similar smell. It is said to be the smell of decaying human flesh.” For a moment I was so shocked I forgot to inhale. Then with a gasp, I managed to spit out, “What? What did you say?” Lothar went on seeming not to have heard my outburst, “ For several decades, right from the time those soldiers disappeared, this area has supposed to have had this stench about it. Supposedly it is that of their bodies and also that of those who have disappeared since.

Continue to : Chapter Ten