Hannibal and Mischa Lecter belong to Thomas Harris, and I make no profit from this story.
This is one of my renditions of what happened "after the barn"…
Chapter 18
La Vita Nuova
The doctor looked at Clarice for a long time; then poured two glasses of Y'quem, placed one on the end table by her side and with his glass still in his hand, he sat beside Clarice, threw one arm around her shoulders, softly stroking her neck with his thumb and stared into the wine for a long time, as if moving swiftly through his memory palace, toward a place he had not planned to return.
"I suppose what saved me was the fever, after they cracked the bone in my upper arm, I must have developed a fever that prevented me from freezing as the remaining children did. Or maybe I was just not meant to die then. Is hard to fathom…
I have no idea how many days went by, until I woke to the sound of gunshots, which was not uncommon, and then yells and screams and men fighting. After a long while the doors to barn opened and a few men walked in, armed to their teeth with firearms and knives. They were filthy, eerie looking, their hair matted and their faces more than half covered with un-kept bushy beards.
One of the men spotted me immediately and approached me, "You are Pieter Lecter's boy." he said, I nodded. I was feverish and confused, very hungry…so hungry that my stomach no longer hurt, it just felt numb, or maybe the pain from the arm surpassed all others."
As the story developed, Hannibal's voice became distant and dreamlike
"Don't you remember me, Hannibal? I'm Dr. Tirva, Milan Tirva."
The child tried to find a resemblance between the man standing in front of him and his father's old friend, but the face was almost entirely hidden by hair.
The man made a gesture with his hand, pointing to his face and appearance.
"Nobody looks like themselves anymore, child." He said softly
"Is your sister with you, is she all right?"
The boy shook his head, "No" he murmured, and the man thought better not to ask further. Instead he turned to the others, "they boy comes with me, he is the son of an old friend. Feel free to take what you can find, is yours."
Nobody answered.
"Can you walk, Hannibal?"
"I can try," the child said, getting to his feet with some difficulty.
Dr. Tirva looked at him then, 'he weights next to nothing', he though, picking him up. The boy felt clammy and feverish.
"I have a horse, a luxury in this parts, and medications, and will try to get us some food." he talked to the child until they reached the horse. The other men were leaving too, some traveled on horses, most by foot; and carried whatever useful items they found. The doctor only carried Hannibal.
During the walk toward the place where they had hidden the horses before their attack on the deserters, the child heard the men comment that the rest of the children had frozen to death, that this pitiful one was the only survivor.
Milan Tirva placed the child on the saddle and wrapped a blanket around him. Then he mounted the horse behind the child, put one arm around the boy's waist and they began their journey
"If we see people I'm going to lose hold of you to reach for my gun, until such time as we determine if the folks are friends or foes, do you suppose when that happens you'd be able sit firm on the saddle?"
"I know how to ride, I do feel weak, but I won't fall…I hope…"
"I'll take a look at your arm as soon as we get to what was the caretaker's cabin of my own hunting lounge. That is where we live now, my wife and I and Vilka."
The boy remembered Vilka, a little girl maybe a year younger than him, pale and blond with huge eyes and a shy demeanor.
"You need food." The Doctor declared tightening his grip around the boy.
"Do you have food?"
"There is food to be had if one is not squeamish, Hannibal. And I'm sure you are not squeamish, are you?
"Just hungry" was the gloomy, weak response.
During the long ride, Dr. Tirva told Hannibal how he, and his wife and child had taken refuge in his own Hunting Lodge right after they heard rumors that both the retreating soldiers, and the deserters had been vandalizing all the mansions in the area, raping and slaughtering the occupants.
Once they were in the lodge for a few days and the Lodge keeper didn't make an appearance, he decided to investigate, but he didn't want to leave his wife and daughter behind in fear for their lives, so they took his doctor's bag and another bigger one filled with medications, and as many blankets as they could carry, just in case they might need them, and a few clothes.
Together the three of them traveled to the Lodge keeper's cabin, just to find him gone, the cabin empty and apparently ransacked, but the furniture was still sound and the modest plates and utensils still usable.
The trip saved their lives. While they were gone their Lodge was vandalized and partially burned. It was just pure luck that the fire didn't spread, leaving the Lodge keeper's cabin well hidden in a still intact part of the forest.
"Your parents…" started Tirva
"Are dead," finished the child. "All the grown ups at the house were killed, and the women attacked and then killed. They took us children to the Lodge and kept us in the barn, for food." His voice was cold and detached as if he was reading a book.
"We'll take care of you Hannibal. Your father would have done the same for my family."
"My father is dead" he seemed to feel the need to repeat it, as if hearing it, he could manage to put aside the gruesome images of how they died and embrace the thought that they were in peace. And somehow thus, accept that they were gone.
"I'm the only one left" he murmured.
Madame Tirva was tiny and blonde and very softspoken. Her heart was filled with sorrow when she saw the condition of the boy, skin and bones, he was; with his huge eyes looking so utterly sad, she wondered if he'd ever recover.
Her husband explained that he planned to give the boy a strong painkiller before resetting the broken arm, and wanted his stomach empty until he was finished. Then they would bathe him, feed him, and put him to bed.
The little girl Vilka, approached them, kissed her father, then went to Hannibal and took his hand. The boy's blank expression didn't seem to deter her,
"My mother and I will wash your clothes while you sleep. From now on you'll be my brother….Do you want to be my brother, Hannibal?" she sounded hopeful,
He looked at the girl with a solemn expression, his head slightly tilted to one side. Then conceded.
"Yes Vilka, I'll be your brother. I'll hope your father teaches me how to help take care of you and your mother."
"I'll do that Hannibal," said Dr. Tirva. "I'm sure you'll be a fast learner. You are a very unusual boy."
The arm had to be broken and reset again, and Dr. Tirva was aware that even under sedation the pain was going to be excruciating, but the child bore it well, and both he and his wife were impressed by Hannibal's composure, so unusual in someone so young.
After the procedure the doctor set the arm on a makeshift splint, and put it in a sling.
The boy seemed weaker from the pain, but accepted a bowl of a rich stew/soup type of dish with meat and root vegetables, which he found delicious.
When he finished his serving Madame Tirva promised him to give him another bowl after his bath, explaining that it was wise not to eat too much at once until his stomach got used to food again.
Hannibal thanked her formally.
"You don't have to call me Madame Tirva, is too long and too formal" she said, in a soft, almost conspiratorial voice. "Why don't you just call me Aunt Anna?"
"Aunt Anna" repeated the boy, in a dreamy tone as if testing the sound of it.
After the bath, she offered him another bowl of soup, but Hannibal was too sleepy and they put him to bed. They had no sheets but they a good supply of blankets, and she wrapped him in one and covered him with another.
For many month they hid in the Cabin. They had plenty of root vegetables to last the winter, thanks to what had clearly been the foresight of the lodge keeper. In the summer, much began to re-grow from the ground and they cultivated it.
As soon as Hannibal was fit to ride, the doctor assigned him Vilka's little pony, the one she rode from the Lodge, and the two of them went out to seek for meat.
After the fires, there were few animals left on the surrounding woods, but if they ventured forward, they found the frozen bodies of the victims of the deserters that ransacked and killed whomever they found in their path.
The doctor patiently explained to Hannibal after they thawed in the coming spring, the dead, would either rot, or be put to good use and eaten for the sustenance of those still alive.
"Is a sin to waste good meat, when we would otherwise starve." He said, wisely, "and, what is the point to leave them be, so the worms can eat them instead?"
The most difficult part was to dissect the frozen bodies to remove the desirable parts, but somehow, the doctor managed to do it. The thymus gland, the kidney and liver's seemed to be the easiest parts to remove.
Not only did they secure meat for their winter meals, but managed to preserve much for the spring and summer; some by salt curing some by slow cooking and preserving in fat such as the old methods practiced for centuries in the South of France.
The doctor taught Hannibal the procedures over and over until the boy learned how to do it himself, even if seldom because it was such a labor intensive task, especially for someone that young.
He also gave the boy a huge hunting knife and taught him how to use it; how kill someone effectively if the occasion arouse.
The children grew rather devoted to one another, and Hannibal was very protective of his adopted sister.
They consider themselves fortunate to have clothes, and eat delicious ragouts, braised for hours until they were dark and delicious. In the mist of chaos and grief, their life was more than bearable.
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That's it for now. I hope you liked the chapter, the direction is taking and how is developing.
I'm posting this one a little ahead of schedule, and TRULY would like some feed back.
The next one will follow in a week or so.
Clariz