At that point it occurred to me that I ought to explore the cellars more thoroughly, for I had gone no further than the wine cellar and the two cells.
Like the manor above, the subterranean regions of the building had undergone many expansions and moderations. The vaults were far vaster than I had originally imagined. A tunnel from the wine cellar led to a large cell which seemed older that the cells I had seen earlier. The stone work was simpler, and it was yet more dank and decayed.
From the Large Cell there were two doors and a trap door. The first door led to a small room with one barred window at the top, an old well and access to a small pit that seemed designed for disposing of waste. Perhaps it was an ancient wash room for servants, or an emergence source of water in the event of a siege- I shall never know. The trap door led to an abandoned wine cellar, flooded with a few inches of water and filled with a rancid stench of decay- a combination of sour wine and dead rats. The second door took a little force to open and led down a tunnel even more ancient than the last.
They led steadily down. By the light of my candle I saw that the walls had been cut into solid rock and were covered in a variety of moss and mould. The occasional rat ran across my path. At the end of the tunnel was a roughly cut, rectangular vault, about eight feet wide, 10 feet long , but over 20 feet high . Ahead of me were the rotted remains of a wooden spiral staircase which once led to a heavily locked, rust covered, iron door. To the left and the right were decaying wooden doors. A little light came came from a tiny, barred window at the top, near the iron door. Bats hung sleeping from the stumps of the ruins stairs.
The left door led to a small room that looked like an ancient parlour.
Battle hardened old soldier that I am, the room on the right still shocked me. I had (briefly, thank God) seen similar rooms in Spain. In the middle was a large, mouldy table shattered with tools, although they were half rusted away, the cruel applications of those tools were still apparent. Other instruments of that horrible trade were about the room; a brazier in one corner, hooks, chains and manacles on the walls. One wall ended in bars, the doors to two tiny cells. Cages really.
There was a trap door on the floor which I choose not to open.
I turned my back on that terrible place. With the foul smell of dust and bones still in my nostrils, I strode up the tunnel. Back in the Large Cell I slammed the door to the tunnel behind me.
I must have been truly insane at that point, for it was then that I decided to live permanently down in the vaults.
Thursday, 2 January 2014
Monday, 16 December 2013
Light Casts No Shadows, part 7
The next morning was terrable.
I still remember lying in that dark, dank cellar. All sence of time and place were lost. It was as if I had woken in some one else's tomb. My head ached, to the pint where i could not think with a single degree of clarity. My throat and mouth were so dry it was asthough I had been salting buckets of sand.
It reminded me of when I had marched all day though the barren country side of southern Spain under a relentless summer sun. But it was worse.
Because I had drank too much wine.
When one drinks more than one should, one often wakes with a sence of dread and guilt. Happy is the man who searches his cloudy, drunken memories and finds that, in fact, he has done nothing to be ashamed off. I, however, was aware that my crushing dread was (in so many, but not all, ways) justified
Desperately thirstly, I found the nearest source of liquid. Half of a smashed bottle of wine which still held a mouthful of wine. i drank it, and regained some capacity for thought.
My first ration thought was of the girl in the cell next to me. she would require water and food.
It was not my intention to starve her to death.
I set off in search of the kitchen.
Jacques sat on the steps leading up from the cellars. He had a bottle of wine, two full glasses and a wolfish smile.
"Good afternoon Captain!' he called out. "More wine?!"
Silently, I brushed past him.
Searching the ground floor of the manor, I found that all of the servents had deserted their posts. Quite reasonable of them.
Soon I located the kitchen and parlour. First I found a tray, a glass and a jug. I filled the jug with water, and the tray with bread, cheese and fruit. As an after thought, I drank a little water myself and stuffed some bread and cheese in my pocket. Then I put the jug and glass on the tray and took it down to the cellar. I put it down on the floor before I opened her door, incase she rushed me.
She did not. she lay huddled in one corned of the room. I decided to give her a blanket later, she seemed so cold.
She seemed to ignore me as I placed the tray on the floor, but as I left she glanced up at me.
"Madman,' she hissed.
I locked her door behind me.
She was always pretty when she was angry.
I retired to my gold hoard and ate my bread and cheese. this cleared my mind further. I realised then that I would need to improve the conditions of her confinement before they became unsanitary.
It was my intention to keep her, not destroy her.
I still remember lying in that dark, dank cellar. All sence of time and place were lost. It was as if I had woken in some one else's tomb. My head ached, to the pint where i could not think with a single degree of clarity. My throat and mouth were so dry it was asthough I had been salting buckets of sand.
It reminded me of when I had marched all day though the barren country side of southern Spain under a relentless summer sun. But it was worse.
Because I had drank too much wine.
When one drinks more than one should, one often wakes with a sence of dread and guilt. Happy is the man who searches his cloudy, drunken memories and finds that, in fact, he has done nothing to be ashamed off. I, however, was aware that my crushing dread was (in so many, but not all, ways) justified
Desperately thirstly, I found the nearest source of liquid. Half of a smashed bottle of wine which still held a mouthful of wine. i drank it, and regained some capacity for thought.
My first ration thought was of the girl in the cell next to me. she would require water and food.
It was not my intention to starve her to death.
I set off in search of the kitchen.
Jacques sat on the steps leading up from the cellars. He had a bottle of wine, two full glasses and a wolfish smile.
"Good afternoon Captain!' he called out. "More wine?!"
Silently, I brushed past him.
Searching the ground floor of the manor, I found that all of the servents had deserted their posts. Quite reasonable of them.
Soon I located the kitchen and parlour. First I found a tray, a glass and a jug. I filled the jug with water, and the tray with bread, cheese and fruit. As an after thought, I drank a little water myself and stuffed some bread and cheese in my pocket. Then I put the jug and glass on the tray and took it down to the cellar. I put it down on the floor before I opened her door, incase she rushed me.
She did not. she lay huddled in one corned of the room. I decided to give her a blanket later, she seemed so cold.
She seemed to ignore me as I placed the tray on the floor, but as I left she glanced up at me.
"Madman,' she hissed.
I locked her door behind me.
She was always pretty when she was angry.
I retired to my gold hoard and ate my bread and cheese. this cleared my mind further. I realised then that I would need to improve the conditions of her confinement before they became unsanitary.
It was my intention to keep her, not destroy her.
Thursday, 12 December 2013
Light Casts No Shadows, part 6.
Now, I recall little of that first night in Thornton Manor, for the first thing I looted was Thornton's wine cellar.
In my rsge, I smashed open bottles with my sword and quathed from the shattered glass.
Then I went from room to room, gathering all of value. Gold, silver, gems, diomonds. plates, clocks, cutlery, chests of coin, bags of money, weapons, jewelry. There was plenty.
Half blind with wine and rage I roamed about the manor, hunting like a demented beast. I smashed open anything that was locked, defaced every painting of Thornton or his kin. Some things I destroyed simply for the joy of seeing them break. The greatest, wildest joy came from knowing that I took from Thornton.
I carried arm-fulls of it down to the cellars, and piled it in an empty vault between the wine cellar and the cell where I had placed the lady.
I thought little of her that night, nor do I believe I heard her weeping.
After gathering my hoarde I selected the finest bottle of red, opened it in the conventional manner, and took it to the cell that held my collection.
There, I sat upon my treasure, like a dragon on its hoarde, and drank. Suddenly time and labour caught up with me, my boiling blood became ice, and I was exhausted. Empty and exhausted. I drank from his wine.
At the darkest and coldest time of night, just before sunrise, Jacques joined me.
"How does it feel, now that you have all that you wanted?" he asked.
"I feel nothing,' it was true, my heart was but a lump of slag in my chest.
"Come now, tell me. How does it feel? I have lead you here, guilded you in your hours of weakness. Where is my reward?"
"I feel nothing.
He cursed in French. How I hate that language.
"Thornton took all I had from me. He stabbed me in the back as I served my country. Now I have taken all that he had from him. That is all, it is over."
I finished the last drop of wine and lay down on my gold.
"What of the girl?" he asked with a smile.
"What of her?"
"What will you do with her now that you have her?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing," he snarled. "What sort of a man are you? I know exactly what I would you with her..."
"You are foul," I growled. "Why couldn't you have stayed in France?"
"I often ask myself the same question."
Then, I believe, I passed out.
In my rsge, I smashed open bottles with my sword and quathed from the shattered glass.
Then I went from room to room, gathering all of value. Gold, silver, gems, diomonds. plates, clocks, cutlery, chests of coin, bags of money, weapons, jewelry. There was plenty.
Half blind with wine and rage I roamed about the manor, hunting like a demented beast. I smashed open anything that was locked, defaced every painting of Thornton or his kin. Some things I destroyed simply for the joy of seeing them break. The greatest, wildest joy came from knowing that I took from Thornton.
I carried arm-fulls of it down to the cellars, and piled it in an empty vault between the wine cellar and the cell where I had placed the lady.
I thought little of her that night, nor do I believe I heard her weeping.
After gathering my hoarde I selected the finest bottle of red, opened it in the conventional manner, and took it to the cell that held my collection.
There, I sat upon my treasure, like a dragon on its hoarde, and drank. Suddenly time and labour caught up with me, my boiling blood became ice, and I was exhausted. Empty and exhausted. I drank from his wine.
At the darkest and coldest time of night, just before sunrise, Jacques joined me.
"How does it feel, now that you have all that you wanted?" he asked.
"I feel nothing,' it was true, my heart was but a lump of slag in my chest.
"Come now, tell me. How does it feel? I have lead you here, guilded you in your hours of weakness. Where is my reward?"
"I feel nothing.
He cursed in French. How I hate that language.
"Thornton took all I had from me. He stabbed me in the back as I served my country. Now I have taken all that he had from him. That is all, it is over."
I finished the last drop of wine and lay down on my gold.
"What of the girl?" he asked with a smile.
"What of her?"
"What will you do with her now that you have her?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing," he snarled. "What sort of a man are you? I know exactly what I would you with her..."
"You are foul," I growled. "Why couldn't you have stayed in France?"
"I often ask myself the same question."
Then, I believe, I passed out.
Friday, 6 December 2013
Light Casts No shadows, part 5
The staff seemed strangly unmoved by the sudden and brutal death of their lord. Later, I learnt that he had not been a kind master.
His lady, however, was rather more emotional. She rushed from the door and knelt beside his bleeding corpse. Weeping. Quite uncontrolably.
Jacques was by then at my side.
"You know what to do," he said in his silky smouth, almost sickly, French accent.
I swept her up and my arms and carried her inside. She was too shocked to resist. Hastily, I located a secure room in the cellar and placed her on the stone flagged floor.
Only then did I really look at her. She had grey-blue eyes, as bright and hard as ice. I still recal how they wept. Her hair was long, now wild, and jet black.
The resemblance between her and my lost Annabel was striking, but it only moved me for a moment. I turned my back on her and locked her in that cell.
'Now do you have what you have been hunting?" Jacques asked.
I tried to ignore him.
As the servents set about burying their master, I set about looting his home.
Wednesday, 27 November 2013
LIGHT CASTS NO SHADOWS, part 4
Thornton Manor could be seen from afar.
The vast manor house sat within a vaster park of ancient oak and yew trees, surrounded by a stout grey wall. The manor itself was a grotesque collection of towers, spires, halls, columns and arches. Every generation had attempted to mark their passage by constructing a new wing to their ansestoral hall in their own style and the style of their time. They had each built with total disregard for the over all appearence of the building; each new addition conpeted and clashed with the last.
The driver rode on, apparently indifferent to my company.
We passed, without resistance, though the impossing, medieval gate house.
A monsterous rage had begun to stir in my chest.
The horses slowed to a trot as we passed through the dense shade of the park, then halted outside the grand enterance to the manor. The entrance, unlike the hall joining it, was built in the classical style. A flight of marble steps lead to a huge rectangular door which was flanked by epic columns.
'Thornton! I roared, as I lept from the carriage. 'Thorton! show your self!'
I continued shouting until the doors flew open and a stout man in an overly elaberate wig emerged. I recall, even now, how his round face was red with indigration.
'Thornton...' I growled, for it was he.
He ignored me, and focused on his driver.
'You oaf!' Thornton yelled that the man.'Why have you brought this madman to my house? How could you be so...'
'He had no choice,' I told Thornton as I strode toward him.
'Who the hel are you?' Thorton snapped.
'You do not know me?' asked I.
'Indeed I do not.'
'I am not suprised,'I said, then drew my sword and ran him through.
He died quickly.
In the distance, I heard I heard Jacques laugh.
The vast manor house sat within a vaster park of ancient oak and yew trees, surrounded by a stout grey wall. The manor itself was a grotesque collection of towers, spires, halls, columns and arches. Every generation had attempted to mark their passage by constructing a new wing to their ansestoral hall in their own style and the style of their time. They had each built with total disregard for the over all appearence of the building; each new addition conpeted and clashed with the last.
The driver rode on, apparently indifferent to my company.
We passed, without resistance, though the impossing, medieval gate house.
A monsterous rage had begun to stir in my chest.
The horses slowed to a trot as we passed through the dense shade of the park, then halted outside the grand enterance to the manor. The entrance, unlike the hall joining it, was built in the classical style. A flight of marble steps lead to a huge rectangular door which was flanked by epic columns.
'Thornton! I roared, as I lept from the carriage. 'Thorton! show your self!'
I continued shouting until the doors flew open and a stout man in an overly elaberate wig emerged. I recall, even now, how his round face was red with indigration.
'Thornton...' I growled, for it was he.
He ignored me, and focused on his driver.
'You oaf!' Thornton yelled that the man.'Why have you brought this madman to my house? How could you be so...'
'He had no choice,' I told Thornton as I strode toward him.
'Who the hel are you?' Thorton snapped.
'You do not know me?' asked I.
'Indeed I do not.'
'I am not suprised,'I said, then drew my sword and ran him through.
He died quickly.
In the distance, I heard I heard Jacques laugh.
Saturday, 9 November 2013
Light Casts No Shadows, part 3
As the last glow of twilight fadded, I prepared to retire to
my cave, for it was inconvienient to hunt in darkness. Then I was the twin
lanterns of a coache approaching. I mounted hastily and rode towards it. I took
my reins in my left hand and drew my sword with my right, then charged at the
coache. Teeth barred, I roared at the driver to stop.
With a great snorting and stomping of horses, he complied.
The four gret mares who led the coache were clearly flustered at the sudden
halt. The driver, however, was not.
‘And what can I be doing for you?’ he asked.
I ignored the fellow for a moment, and rode around the
coache, and checked for a gunman hidden on the roof and passengers within.
There were none.
‘Whose coache is this?’ I demanded.
The driver was a stout fellow in a weather beaten Great
Coat. His face was expressionless, resigned.
‘’Tis Mr Thorton’s,’ said he.
The name rang a bell, and woke a rage in me that I did not
full understand.
‘Take me to your Lord!’ I demanded, sword to the fellows
throat.
‘That I cannot do, for my only Lord is in ‘Eaven,’ he said
with a dry smile, ‘but if you want, I could take you to Thornton Manor to meet
‘is Lordship.’
‘Aye, do it.’
I was impressed. I put my sword to its scabard, and swung
myself from my horse to the driver’s bench.
We set of at a reasonable speed. My loyal horse trotted
along side.
Friday, 1 November 2013
Light Casts No Shadows, Part 2
'How goes the hunt?'
'Not unprofitably,' I repied. 'Aquired some coin and a reasonable time piece last week.
'A lttle coin and a pocket watch?' he scoffed. 'Oh Captain! How the mighty are fallen!'
''Twas enough to pay for a few nights in an inn,' I replied.
I looked away from his horrid form. Concentrating on the beauty around me. It was a fine spring evening, the setting sun cast golden light through hedgerows where birds sang. yet my horse, normally so docile, stapmed its feet and snorted- mirroring my displeasure at the current company.
'You scrape existance from hand to mouth,' he continued.
'At least I have my health,' I said, with a guesture towards the sword at my belt. 'Which is more than can be said for you.'
With that he disappeared, as was his way.
How I hated him.
I returned to my vigal on the highway. He was correct. I had fallen, from an Officer in The Iron Duke's army to a Highwayman. A robber. I preyed on the rich and weak, living- enduring- by my sword and wit alone.
What else was a man to do when all be possesed had been taken from him?
'Not unprofitably,' I repied. 'Aquired some coin and a reasonable time piece last week.
'A lttle coin and a pocket watch?' he scoffed. 'Oh Captain! How the mighty are fallen!'
''Twas enough to pay for a few nights in an inn,' I replied.
I looked away from his horrid form. Concentrating on the beauty around me. It was a fine spring evening, the setting sun cast golden light through hedgerows where birds sang. yet my horse, normally so docile, stapmed its feet and snorted- mirroring my displeasure at the current company.
'You scrape existance from hand to mouth,' he continued.
'At least I have my health,' I said, with a guesture towards the sword at my belt. 'Which is more than can be said for you.'
With that he disappeared, as was his way.
How I hated him.
I returned to my vigal on the highway. He was correct. I had fallen, from an Officer in The Iron Duke's army to a Highwayman. A robber. I preyed on the rich and weak, living- enduring- by my sword and wit alone.
What else was a man to do when all be possesed had been taken from him?
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