It was, I believe, soon after that conversation that I had the idiot idea of counting my money. I was probably drunk, for the wine cellar was a constant temptation.
There was, I recall, a great deal of it, Jacques interupted me before I finished counting it.
'Enough gold for you?' he asked.
'More than he took from me... But the important thing is that 'tis all his gold. All that he had, because he took all from me.'
'So you keep saying. But what of his wife?'
"My prisioner?'
'He took your wife from you, but you have not yet taken his wife... fully. You must take her to bed or kill her, it is the only way to complete our revenge.'
Damn me, because for a moment I was tempted. I thought of her alone in the vaults, her beautiful eyes shinning in the darkness. I remembered holding he as I carried her away from her slaine husband. The softness of her skin, her hair brushing my face. She was pretty, and she was mine...
I have done many bad things in my life. In the service of my country, I killed many men and wounded many more. At times I took satisfaction from the killing. Then I was a Highwayman- a thief. Then a murderer. There were few sins that were new to me.
But I am not a monster.
'Damn you!' I shouted at him. 'Out of my sight, French brute! I'm going to get more wine...'
Then I knew: sooner or later, I must kill Jaques.
Friday, 10 January 2014
Friday, 3 January 2014
Light Casts No Shadows, part 10
She looked at me with cold, dead eyes. Disgust and discomfort written, equally clearly, across her pretty face. I put the tray, blankets and clothes beside her. She did not shift from the corner where she sat.
'You are my prisoner,' I told her, 'but now you may leave this cell. You may go any where in the cellars, but you may not leave the cellars.'
She looked up, not at me but at the door behind me.
'You will find clean water beyond the wine cellar,' I continued. 'But I recommend that you venture no further, especially not down the old tunnel.'
She ignored me. I turned to leave.
'Madman,' she hissed.
'Pardon?' I asked.
'Madman! ... You are truly mad. You killed my husband... enslaved me! ... I hear you talking to yourself. Madness!'
'I don't talk to myself.'
'Then who do you talk to?' she demanded.
'Jacques.'
'And who is Jacques?'
'We meet in France. He is my enemy.'
Again, I turned to leave.
'What do you want of me?' for the first time, her voice betrayed sadness.
'You are my prisoner. I need nothing else from you.'
'You are my prisoner,' I told her, 'but now you may leave this cell. You may go any where in the cellars, but you may not leave the cellars.'
She looked up, not at me but at the door behind me.
'You will find clean water beyond the wine cellar,' I continued. 'But I recommend that you venture no further, especially not down the old tunnel.'
She ignored me. I turned to leave.
'Madman,' she hissed.
'Pardon?' I asked.
'Madman! ... You are truly mad. You killed my husband... enslaved me! ... I hear you talking to yourself. Madness!'
'I don't talk to myself.'
'Then who do you talk to?' she demanded.
'Jacques.'
'And who is Jacques?'
'We meet in France. He is my enemy.'
Again, I turned to leave.
'What do you want of me?' for the first time, her voice betrayed sadness.
'You are my prisoner. I need nothing else from you.'
Light Casts No shadows, part 9
It was then, perhaps caused by a draft from the slammed door, that my candle went out. In the darkness I searched my pockets for my tinder box. I stumbled, and dropped the stub of a candle which I held. I knew I had a second candle and a tinder box some where, but they eluded me.
'Lost some thing?' Jacques hissed in my ear.
'My light,' I replied.
This amused him.
I found my tinder box, but I could not find a candle.
'What did you think of the playroom?' he asked.
'What?'
'The Dungeon... maybe you could take your girlfriend there.'
'No.'
I found the stub of my first candle on the ground, and opened the tinderbox.
'You could have such fun with the...' he continued.
A spark. A tiny fire. Then the candle was lit.
Jacques was no where to be seen.
Hastily, I located the new candle and lit it, then discarded the stub.
On my way to the wine cellar I decided to give the girl free rein of the cellars. But first I would find clothes, bedding and more food for her.
Jacques was sat on the steps again.
'Where are you going?' he asked.
'Getting provisions.'
'Presents for you girlfriend?'
'Be gone!'
I strode past him.
First I located her bedroom, and found a change of clothes and two blankets for her. As an after thought, I located a blanket for myself. I took these things down to the cellar, then went up to the kitchen.
Suddenly I realised how hungry I was. I ate cold meat and bread. Then I selected fruit, bread, cheese and meat for her, and put them on a tray with water as before. On my way back down, I locked the door firmly.
'Lost some thing?' Jacques hissed in my ear.
'My light,' I replied.
This amused him.
I found my tinder box, but I could not find a candle.
'What did you think of the playroom?' he asked.
'What?'
'The Dungeon... maybe you could take your girlfriend there.'
'No.'
I found the stub of my first candle on the ground, and opened the tinderbox.
'You could have such fun with the...' he continued.
A spark. A tiny fire. Then the candle was lit.
Jacques was no where to be seen.
Hastily, I located the new candle and lit it, then discarded the stub.
On my way to the wine cellar I decided to give the girl free rein of the cellars. But first I would find clothes, bedding and more food for her.
Jacques was sat on the steps again.
'Where are you going?' he asked.
'Getting provisions.'
'Presents for you girlfriend?'
'Be gone!'
I strode past him.
First I located her bedroom, and found a change of clothes and two blankets for her. As an after thought, I located a blanket for myself. I took these things down to the cellar, then went up to the kitchen.
Suddenly I realised how hungry I was. I ate cold meat and bread. Then I selected fruit, bread, cheese and meat for her, and put them on a tray with water as before. On my way back down, I locked the door firmly.
Thursday, 2 January 2014
Light Casts No Shadows, part 8
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.
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.
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.
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