TE17 Mysterious Montenegro

Milovan Radojević

burdened with guilt and sin. My throat seized and a nausea came from all I had experienced. I felt the weight of the futile battles—all the death and destruction—which continued there in the silence. He was not allowing me to be born again through oblivion. But perhaps that new birth would be a death before death? If it had not been for that night, I would not have written these words about Dominik. In the dark that concealed out faces, he revealed to me that it was the priest Theodor, his loyal right hand, who had killed Lazar Pervosio. “My body is still alive, as you see, so you don’t have to touch that scroll,” he uttered quietly. I placed my hand on his, old and vein- mottled, and felt a fear of the emptiness if he should depart. “Had I not given Theodor my solemn word that I would ordain himas priest and free himof sin before thealtar, and had I not sent him there to do the deed, Pervosio’s conspiracy would have borne fruit and the poison would have been in my mouth. Lazar had engaged a poisoner to concoct a lethal dose and was searching for one among the monks who would willingly break his vows and accept gold to smuggle poison beneath this holy roof. Brother Ioanus brought me word of their plan after a relative, who serves Šćepan, accidentally misspoke.” “W-w-why?!” I stuttered, stunned by this sudden admission, and crossed myself.

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