Heathen swine, thought Alexandru, holstering the smoking arquebus in his saddlebag. He had heard plenty of lurid tales of gypsy depravity, including rumours of cannibalism and vampirism that he had formerly written off as superstitious peasant gibberish. The act of pagan barbarity he had narrowly averted seemed to call that into question… though to what extent he had averted it, he began to wonder. Having had a muscular gypsy collapse upon her, the lady on the altar had still not moved a muscle, and Alexandru feared that worst had already come to pass. But why sacrifice a corpse? That at least made no sense. She must have been drugged, he decided, and rode down to the altar for a closer inspection.
Our Beloved Tyrants Scene 7
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