Kitabı oku: «Black Duchess», sayfa 3

“I don’t know. I don’t understand.” Neither of us did.

Ten minutes later we climbed higher. This was supposed to be the last bedroom in the tower. Again, I noticed a rosary on the door. I took it off its hook to get a better look. It was an ordinary church rosary, but why hang them at every door? Maybe it’s a French tradition? Anton pushed the door.

I couldn’t help but exclaim loudly, “My God, Anton! This is Disneyland!” There was no limit to my joy. It was a nursery of stunning beauty… in Gothic style. The interior was a light shade which was unusual for the premises of that time. The ceilings were wooden; the chandelier was iron, as always. However, the wood was a light shade; and, unlike other rooms, the walls here were wood upon which all sorts of medieval subjects were carved. The lancet windows were decorated with mosaics arranged in images from the Holy Scriptures. However, this lovely room was not without its eerie strangeness: there was a thin, barely noticeable mist on the floor… in the room… in a residential building! I lost count when I tried to figure out how many times I had experienced shock that day.

“Do you see it, too?” I asked my husband who was standing on the threshold.

“Fog! What the hell?”

All this began to strain Anton very much.

“Look… it seeps from the ceiling,” my husband said.

He pointed to a hole above the window. Barely visible, a trickle of fog really flowed from there.

“I hope there are no traps on the floor… like snakes!” “Come on, be careful here,” I cautioned.

To say that I was scared is not to say anything.

“Let’s see what kind of strange closet this is in here,” I suggested. “By the way, where is the bed for the child here?”

In place of a bed, there was some kind of huge closet with shutters… a strange structure! I came closer and, opening the doors, I was very surprised to find a high bed hidden in the closet! It had a magnificent feather mattress… of course, dilapidated. In addition, colorful, corduroy pillows brightened the area.

The inside of the room was painted with all sorts of knights and buffoons… very colorful. Opposite, as always, there was a large fireplace at the other end of the room.

“Amazing,” I started. “I think this bed was made to make the baby warmer in the winter.” My maternal instinct suddenly woke up in me.

“Yes, it’s interesting,” Anton responded.

For the first time my husband called antiques “interesting.” This was a sure sign that even he stopped getting bored here… albeit it was creepy.

To the left and right of the fireplace were cute, painted, wooden wardrobes. A bunch of toys lay in them… some made of wood, others of fabric. There was a wooden horse on the floor. A small cradle rested next to it, in which there was a doll made of cloth stuffed with something. “My Anna” was stamped on the crib. I must say the room was very nice, but it felt like no one really lived here… just once a pompous renovation was done here.

While we were looking around the fabulous nursery, I constantly heard some strange sounds from above.

“Do you hear that?” I decided to ask my husband. “Yes, the sound of a drip upstairs.” Anton listened more intently.

“Where would the water come from?” I asked.

“The sounds are from the roof. I wonder if there’s something weirder than that laughing gas from the ceiling?” my husband tried to joke.

“Devil’s music,” I said as I remembered the notes of the blonde girl.

We listened and distinctly heard streams and drops pouring from somewhere.

“She dripped so loudly in this ancient nursery, as if she wanted to say something.” Now it’s clear why the girl described these sounds like that.

It’s strange what kind of plumbing is on the roof, considering that we haven’t seen anything like civilization in this tower. I shivered.

“Come on!” I commanded.

We tried to climb onto the roof, but these were wooden floors and in terrible condition.

“Nora, you see it’s dangerous here.” Anton always protected me.

“Okay, go first.” There was no way to stop me.

“Very funny,” he smirked.

We went to the roof, slowly jumped over the beams in the floor, and suddenly came across an iron door. It was a bit open. I went in first.

“My God!” I blurted out.

It couldn’t be seen from the street, but there was a statue of an angel with a jug in her hands from which a trickle of water really flowed out. Steam concentrated in the pool as fog, which evidently was what scared us in the girl’s room. It came from this water.

There was a stone bench around the fountain pool… that is, initially it was one. An angel stood on a raised platform in the circular pool. The small pool resembled a cup, the edges of which were made in the form of a bench.

The windows in the room were glass, painted with medieval subjects. Under the windows were niches in the medieval style of stone, where flowers in pots grew… most of which had wilted.

It was evident the countess left the flowers to wither, but many of them survived because there was condensation on their leaves! Amazing, that the evaporation of water saved them! They drank through their leaves. “Wow! Why make a fountain here? I’ve never seen anything like it!” I was impressed.

“Yes, this is the strangest castle I’ve seen lately.” Anton was no less shocked. “But where did this fog come from? How is this even possible, given the laws of physics? I do not understand.”

“And why did the owners plant flowers here… to then leave them?” I continued my husband’s reasoning.

“I don’t understand anything. So, the owners still lived here for a while, after which they closed the tower,” Anton thought out loud.

“We have to ask the count about it.”

“Don’t even think about it! I’ll have to tell him how we got here!”

My husband was getting angry. I didn’t waste time arguing because evening was approaching, and I wanted to take a closer look at the “attic.”

The frescoed windows around the outer wall of the room overlooked the outer wall of the castle just beyond the circular corridor surrounding this center room. The corridor had a floor of rotten planks. From the outer wall of the corridor was a stunning view: well-groomed and beautiful fields, hills, and a village. The room in the center was dark since sunlight hardly penetrated it. The ancient frescoes on the windows prevented the sun’s rays from illuminating the room.

I went behind the fountain where the wall was covered with blooming ivy. Looking closer, I saw another iron door. I knew it could possibly lead to the space with a rotten floor. However, it presumably could also lead to the roof with battlements, which we saw from the courtyard. I began to pull on the door. It was impossible to open.

“What’s in here?” I said to myself.

“This is the exit to the roof,” my husband explained, apparently immured because the roof was in such disrepair!

“It’s a pity. It would be interesting to see what is there,” I complained. I was upset.

“Honey, let’s get out of here. It’s late,” Anton urged.

“Let’s go to the first tower. We have to look around the whole castle to understand anything.” I wanted to solve the mystery of these rooms by all means.

Anton responded, “But there are the hosts and guests nearby… and what if there’s really nothing to see?” My husband was not happy with my curiosity.

“We’ll sneak in quietly; they won’t even notice! We are welcome to do that. I feel like I have to snoop around. They said there was nothing to see in the fourth tower.

But you saw with your own eyes that that was a lie!”

“Darling, don’t you think that this is a little out of our business?”

My husband wanted to protect me from nonsense since these strangers and their family secrets are not any of our business. But nothing will stop me from wanting to solve the riddle.

“And the angel is in a bowl,” I said, looking back at the fountain. “I’ve never seen anything more Gothic.”

This house seemed to be talking to me. Many rooms left a terrible impression, but I didn’t feel evil here… only a trace of mysticism. I felt the walls talked as if they were enchanted and trying to convey – no, shout – some information to me.

Here was a mystery needed to be solved… it was just waiting in the wings: children who disappeared from the luxurious rooms in which they lived so carefree; the Black Duchess, their mother, whom they feared; and the witching mist. What did Louise do? Was she really a witch? And most importantly, why did she conduct her rituals?

Chapter 6 Strange Parents

Anton’s diary

11.09.2016

A quarter of an hour later we were already near the first tower located next to our room. The corridor that led to the tower was located on the side where the owners lived.

The laughter of the owners could be heard in the distance. The count, countess, and their son lived right above the main entrance. We quietly entered their part. Everything was repaired there better than in other rooms. It was clear they lived here permanently. To the right of the entrance was a wooden partition with a door. The door was locked. Clearly, if there was an entrance to the tower, then it could only be behind this door since there was a solid tower wall below and from the street.

“Damn it!” Nora said angrily.

Something mysterious, locked with a key, provoked in her an irresistible desire to look there.

“Well, they are the owners and have the right to keep their property locked from curious Russian tourists,” I responded, trying to calm her down.

“It is not funny! I have to get in there!” Nora really seemed nervous.

“What’s the matter with you?” I pressed. “Since you came here, your mood has been changing at the speed of light. I don’t understand. Why do you want to go in there?”

“I do not know! More precisely, you won’t understand me! I just know I have to. I have to go there! You see, I should have been in such a castle since childhood… it’s hard to explain.” She was very nervous now.

“Darling, since I’ve known you, a lot of things seem strange to me.”

She laughed.

I really did not understand her mood swings. She wanted to explore someone else’s property! It was insane. She was so seriously angry… although typically she was always friendly. In general, her behavior was not like her usual self.

Nora spun around on the spot, stamped her foot, and almost fell. She abruptly leaned her hand against the wall on which a box hung. When her hand bumped it, she heard a similar sound to the clanking of iron. She looked at the box in bewilderment.

“What is it? Have you hurt yourself?”

“There is some kind of box here. I thought maybe it could be a key box.”

“Open the box!” I urged her.

“Oh… what is this?”

As Nora opened the box, she saw a large number of keys. Many of them looked quite ancient. It was there where the owners must keep all the keys. However, Europeans are trusting people. There were many tourists who visited the castle, and the keys were available to anyone. The only thing that prevented someone from taking them was the fact that criminals would not guess where to look for the keys. Truly, their culture was a mystery to me! Why lock the doors so securely against outsiders and yet keep the keys to those very doors in the public eye?

Nora picked up a suitable key. It opened the door. We stepped through and found ourselves in total darkness. Immediately we heard one of the owners return to their room on the other side of the corridor. It looked like it was the son. My wife and I kept silent, switched off the flashlight, and did not move. All this was like a childish hide-and-seek game.

“I’ll remember this vacation for a long time,” Nora whispered. “I think he’s gone to his room; let’s go.”

“Are you sure? It would be a shame if we were caught.” “Therefore, we must hurry,” Nora prompted.

My wife turned on the flashlight, and a spiral staircase appeared in front of us… another rather inexplicable lie from Dupré. The count had clearly said the tower was rebuilt for rooms… that is, the tower space served as a communication hub between the floors, and it was impossible to climb vertically. One could walk only horizontally and only on his own floor.

We took his explanation to be true since there was another staircase next to our room. We climbed it on the first day. There were only small rooms for servants, and they were located directly above ours. The count’s lies could remain undisclosed… but only for those who did not enter his territory.

We continued our ascent. There were two floors left for rooms. We then saw another door on the third floor. However, it wasn’t as old as the doors in the other towers. It was heavy and decorated with carved scenes from medieval life. We pushed it, and it opened.

This was not at all the abandoned antiquity that we saw in other towers! Yes, there was a layer of dust, but the room was very richly decorated. Huge, dense, and beautiful tapestries with hunting scenes hung on the walls. (My wife taught me this word; they were not “carpets” but “tapestries.”) The fireplace was made of white marble. It was covered with soot, which is understandable since they once lived here. A carved desk with images of saints stood by the window. Something like another desk was located along the wall. There were small people depicted on it. In short, it was an antique.

“Anton,” my wife continued to whisper, “Do you see that?”

“Yes, it cannot stay unnoticed. I think they are extraordinarily rich! Maybe they should sell it and then repair the castle,” I suggested.

“God! It is from the 15th century! Look at the quality of the furniture. There are almost no such things anymore,” Nora said wistfully. “But everything is locked ….” Nora searched for something in her pocket and suddenly pulled out a bunch of keys.

“You took the keys with you? And if the owners see?” I exclaimed.

“I don’t care if they do! You and I have entered a parallel world. It’s worth it.”

This time I agreed with her. It’s not often that an ordinary vacation is so interesting. Nora turned the key that fit into the desk, and an old drawer opened. It turned out that time affected it a lot: the drawer almost fell into her hands. Inside were sheets of paper full of notes.

“How much did medieval people write?” I asked in astonishment.

“Anton, I think these are letters and… diaries! Old French is too complicated… even this handwriting is hard to read. But you can definitely see the capital letters. He wrote to his wife. It says, “Louise, my love… I am waiting for your return.”

It’s so romantic.”

“Yes, if only we could understand the rest.” “Let’s take it to our room!” my wife suggested.

“Are you crazy?” I was indignant at such proposals.

“Have you noticed the order that is maintained here?”

“Yes! You bet. Everything is pretty well cleaned and preserved. No sign of rats. I think a man definitely lived here… judging by the style and hunting trophies. There are more weapons. I wonder if the swords are sharp?”

I went to the wall to pull a sword out of the fasteners.

“Be careful!”

The sword turned out to be very heavy and sharp; it was difficult for medieval knights to fight with them.

“Try to use this in battle,” Nora commented.

“Amazing!”

Now my mood was improving. Finally, I found something that pleased me: weapons and thrills.

“I think this is the Duchess Louise’s husband’s room,” Nora observed. “Gorgeous decoration. Why do they care so much about these rooms and have not sold anything… or at least why not show it as a museum exhibition?”

My spouse was clearly caught up in our investigation.

“Good question,” I simply responded.

“Anton, I think I can read some entries from the duke’s diary: “She came down from the carriage so easily. She became as thin as a girl; her hair became better: stronger and shiny… as if she were a young girl. It had a more beautiful, darker color, too.”

“I can’t understand further… ah, here: “The nails have become longer and whiter. She tried to hide her face, but it was hard to hide. I couldn’t help noticing that her lips were bloodshot; they turned red like the garnets in her ears. Her eyelashes have become longer and darker. And the unnatural blush was clearly not paint. I asked if she had a fever, but she shook her head and said she wanted to have a rest from the road. She was definitely hiding something. She seemed ashamed and hurt. But she didn’t want to talk about it. I’ve known my wife for too long.”

“If my French teacher had heard me, she would have been proud of me!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t read any more. Why would you want to dig into their private life?” I was genuinely perplexed.

“I don’t know. I just have to; I want to. Just support me, please.”

At that moment, Nora was so touching. Of course, I couldn’t refuse her. But this preoccupation with the Middle Ages frankly began to frighten me.

“Okay, read on,” I replied.

““The strangest thing is that I’ll never forget her skin at that moment. It became pearly white and very beautiful; and her freckles disappeared. All the tan came off. In combination with the red velvet she wore and the garnets in her ears, her skin looked especially bright and radiant.

““She walked like an unearthly creature; it seemed to me that she was 16 again. Her waist became narrower with no traces of all her pregnancies. She hugged me so tightly and carnivorously that I was surprised… and I felt weak. Apparently, I missed her too much.”

“God, how romantic it is! He describes her so beautifully!” My wife made a childishly dramatic face.

“Yes, but a strange description… pallor was probably considered sexual,” I replied.

“In the Middle Ages pallor was at the peak of fashion… the symbol of a woman’s purity. However, dark hair was considered a sign of a predisposition to evil.” Nora loved to study history.

“Times have changed a lot. Apparently, he hadn’t seen her for so long that she seemed to him more beautiful than usual. Is there anything else interesting?”

“Here’s an entry for 16.10.1452: ‘The night spent with my wife exhausted me, although I was waiting for her so much. I must have gotten older. This is strange. She was weird and wild. I asked if she had a fever, but she only shook her head and said she wanted a rest from the road. She was clearly hiding something. My duchess seemed ashamed and hurt.’”

“Maybe she was really a witch?” I grinned as I grabbed my wife’s hand.

Suddenly a strong wind blew through the window. The shutters rustled. I even shuddered a little but quickly pulled myself together.

“Don’t scare me!” Nora shuddered. “Listen. There’s more: ‘21.10.1452, I constantly feel unwell after spending time with my wife. I must be sick.’”

“Either she was an insatiable or the duke started having problems,” I decided to joke again. “However, this does not explain anything.”

“I agree,” Nora responded. “Here’s more: “Entry from 09.11.1452, “I had a very serious conversation with my wife. She told me all the details of the trip and that she had found a remedy for our misfortune. This requires urgent measures; delay can cost lives. We are worried about our children. We will take them to a safe place. Then my wife will finish the job. We will save our family. I am sure that the Lord will not leave us.”

“Wow! Anton, something has happened in this family; it’s obvious! The children’s rooms look so strange! How can you explain that?”

“I agree, there is some mystery here. Something serious has happened in this family which the lying count does not want to talk about. Frankly, I am sure that the count knows everything, but this information is not for outsiders.”

Nora continued reading, “‘Her hugs are suffocating. She began to hug people often as if it could save her from something or give her strength. Louise sometimes tries to squeeze me forcefully with her fingers or pinch me. It’s like she gets vitality from it.’ Horror… our duchess loved BDSM,” Nora laughed.

“And she was very promiscuous, apparently.” I was also amused by all the pornography of the 15th century, but there was something disturbing in these records.

“I think we won’t have time to read everything; we have to go upstairs,” commanded my wife. “Clearly, there is a dark secret in this family, especially since the count mentioned that the duchess was a witch. Frankly, I’m a little scared of these records. What could have happened to her?”

“We can’t assume anything. It doesn’t look like a disease; it’s just some kind of madness. Come on, honey.”

Nora’s diary

We walked up to the fourth floor. There we were surprised even more than before: the big, oak door opened with a creak; and the first thing we saw was… ourselves! I know it sounds like nonsense. However, this was exactly the impression created by a huge, Gothic mirror about two meters high and framed with carved wood in the imitation of a Gothic cathedral’s rooftop. It was racy and a bit frightening. The mirror created a sort of corridor… truly the room of a magical witch. It was no less than the queen’s room!

To the left of the mirror was a dressing table, also carved from brown wood. To the left of the dressing table was a wall that divided the room almost in two with carved images of biblical scenes and other medieval themes.

I must say this room had a resemblance to the nursery upstairs as it was almost entirely decorated in carved wood. However, it was obvious that it belonged to an adult.

On the right side of the mirror there were a desk, a book stand, a window, and a huge fireplace. An amazing sight was the window which looked out onto the fields.

“I wonder if all the duchesses lived like this,” I said to my husband in a half-whisper; I was shocked.

To say that the room was gorgeous is to say nothing. Tapestries hung behind the furniture, large and soft. On both sides of the door were tall, Gothic, open wardrobes full of medieval clothes. Dresses and hats seemed to be everywhere. It was clear that they were all made of a rather chic fabric, embroidered with semiprecious stones.

I had an overwhelming wish to touch them.

The dresses were made of velvet of different colors: powdery, mint, and turquoise and trimmed with fur. There were dresses made of satin, mostly with a high waist and open chest as befitted the Burgundian fashion of the 15th century.

One dress attracted me especially – I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It felt as if some very stormy and important experiences were connected to it. It was a warm dress made of heavy, blood-red velvet. Made with a high waist, it was trimmed with silver threads and fur. The skirt was embroidered in the form of a cape – something like a petticoat – made of heavy brocade; and the sleeves were long and fairy-like and went down to the floor. Medieval women dressed much brighter than modern ones.

In one of the wardrobes were hats in which women put up their hair. The collection included two-horned caps with short veils, cropped cones, and, of course, my favorite: hennins, fairy hats. In my opinion, nothing reflected the Gothic era like a hennin. These tall, conical hats sometimes reached up to two meters, and silk fabric fell from the tip of the cap… a real fairy hat.

I began to pet the dresses like one would a cat. I had a feeling that I missed them.

My husband looked at me bewildered.

“Be careful in case these dresses haven’t been shaken out in the last 500 years,” he cautioned.

“The velvet… and the stones …,” I said dreamily.

I began to pull out dresses.

“They have been preserved in excellent condition, I must say!” I commented.

It turned out Dupré knew how to preserve historical heritage… it was just that not everything they had they tried to preserve.

“I think these stones and gold threads are real. Wow! Look at the hats! These are real hennins!”

“What is this? I’ve had enough of the word, ‘hennin,’” Anton complained. He hated talking about clothes and considered it a waste of time.

“Well, these are hats like fairies wore!” I smiled. “Just for the sake of these emotions it was worth stealing the keys from Dupré.

“Ahhh, is it like Madonna’s bra… only on her head?” The love of irony never left my spouse.

“Let’s see what’s behind the wall,” he suggested. “I’m sure there’s a bed there just like in the nursery. Definitely she had to sleep somewhere.”

We felt along the wall because there were no traces of a door on it, and there were no handles. Amazing! At first, everything was in vain. Then, closer to the exit, I found a wheel of fortune carved on the wall, a medieval symbol signifying the vicissitudes of fate. Usually, it depicts a circle in the center of which sits a blindfolded woman. She spins the wheel, which changes people’s destinies. Surprisingly, the wheel handle was protruding. So, I took hold of it and tried to spin it… and the door creaked.

To our surprise, two doors opened outward in the wall. It was dark inside and a little musty. We turned on the flashlight. It turned out that there were two rooms behind the wall. The first was a dressing room, completely made of wood. We stepped onto the wooden floor; it creaked. All the walls were decorated with carved wood, depicting scenes from the life of a medieval man. In general, the room left a rather heavy feeling.

There was a built-in, wooden wardrobe on the left; but we didn’t find anything special inside. Right in front of us was another wardrobe, narrow and high with transparent glass over it like one would find in museums. A huge, one-and-ahalf-meter, extraordinarily beautiful hennin sat there. It was of a rich, powdery color with a short, white silk veil on top. At the edges around the head, it was decorated with a gold chain and stones; and the white fabric itself was attached with huge, precious stones. I don’t know much about stones, but it looked like a combination of garnets, morganites, and brown diamonds set in gold. I was shocked.

“This is a crown, no doubt.” I could barely get the words out.

“Now I will never believe Dupré has nothing to pay for castle repairs. It’s just a miracle! That’s why they don’t let anyone in here. There’s a fortune here.”

My husband was no less impressed with everything.

I went up to the wardrobe, opened it, and touched the hennin. It was incredible.

Meanwhile, my husband walked up to two doors situated to the right and opened them. They moved apart in different directions, and we saw a huge bed behind them. It was neatly made. However, before lying down, one had to climb some stairs. There were also carved shelves for storing things on the left and right sides of the bed. We spotted a closed window – they had thought of a supply of fresh air.

“I wonder why the bed is hidden?” I voiced.

“Probably so that no one could hear how much fun the dissolute duchess was having,” Anton joked again.

“Idiot,” I said to Anton and laughed… then I remembered the hennin. “Anton, I want to try on the hennin.”

“I hope you’re not talking about this crown,” my husband said, pointing to the enclosed hennin.

“Yes, I am,” I answered simply. I was determined to do it.

“Almighty God, woman! You want us to be imprisoned in a foreign country?” He clearly did not like my idea, but I was not going to step down.

I opened the glass wardrobe and carefully pulled out the hennin. It was well preserved.

In order to put it on, it was necessary to first pull up my hair. I went to the dressing table, put down the crown-hennin… and saw something no less amazing. On the dressing table were a bunch of strange objects: massive combs decorated with stones and wooden and metal chests with stones.

However, the most exciting thing was inside one of the chests. I opened the metal box; it contained a rare treasure: a heavy necklace and earrings made of white gold. The necklace had five huge inserts of garnets. The heavy earrings were similar to the pendant, each having three massive garnets. The stones shone red and were polished.

“Now it’s clear why tourists don’t come here! I have a feeling that I’ve seen this piece of jewelry somewhere.” I blurted out this confession completely by accident.

“Yes, probably in the movies,” my shocked husband responded. “They are really millionaires! I don’t understand anything.”

“Maybe they have a special love for heirlooms, and they don’t want to part with them?” I suggested. “But the necklace is just lovely.”

Like any woman, I was fascinated by such an abundance of beauty and gorgeous jewelry.

“Such jewelry should be kept in a Swiss bank!” My husband was clearly getting excited by what he saw.

Anton reached for the other boxes. When he opened them, I felt like the heroine of a fairy tale. The chests were littered with jewels. After seeing all this, it would be strange to see the countess working in the garden in her old boots and a torn jacket.

“Well, we may get caught here; there’s not much time. Help me put on the crown,” I pressed my husband.

“No, don’t even ask. One of us has to stay free from prison to pay the mortgage.”

I gathered up my hair and fixed it on top of my head in a bun. Then I put on the hennin in front of the mirror. It sat very tightly on my head and was quite heavy. It was a real crown… as if its owner was trying her best to emphasize her status in front of someone. I looked like a fairy princess. The hennin could barely be seen in the mirror, and that made it look even more majestic.

When I looked at my reflection in the Gothic mirror, I became frightened. I had a feeling that I was changing. It’s like I wasn’t myself… more precisely as if I finally recognized my real self. It seemed to me that I had looked like this before. Time had stopped. I could only hear the wind, which was beginning to tear the shutters off the windows. Antiquity had come to life. For a moment it seemed to me that I was getting ready to go down to a dinner party and that this was not our century at all. I saw and understood the Middle Ages so clearly, and there was no doubt that I had been a part of it. What’s happening to me, God?

“God, how much do I want to live here!” I said out loud.

“I have no doubt, Your Majesty,” my husband answered. “Take off your crown, and let’s get out of here. It’s already evening. We can’t leave unnoticed if we stay late. By the way, look at the ceiling.”

I looked up and was surprised at how such a detail had escaped from my view before. The ceilings in the owner’s room were high, unlike other tower rooms. Her room was built up to the ceiling, under which hung a huge chandelier for candles. Also, niches for candles were made along the roof. There were candelabrums inserted everywhere. There was a strange symbol carved in the center.