Household (12 page)

They would need to leave before sunup, perhaps long before. The moon was full, and they would not ride but would walk. He continued on his way to the stables, his anger now mixed with a certain avid curiosity which, had he been challenged on it, he most certainly would have denied.

Much to Richard’s surprise, David was reluctant to venture anywhere near the stone house. He knew about it, had seen it as a lad, had even been inside and had also been glad to abide by Richard’s stipulation that that part of the woods was out of bounds. David had been sure that Richard must agree the place was haunted.

“All dusty ’twere ’n dark wi’ weird drawing on the walls, faces’n the like. To look at ’em made you feel all peculiar. An’ bein’ there, you ’eard things.” David did not elaborate but the shudder that shook his husky frame emphasized his fears better than any description he could have provided. David did not shudder easily, Richard knew. His head groom had been one of the lads who helped pluck the fruit of the gallow’s tree and lay old Jack in the ground.

“We’ll not need to enter the cottage,” Richard assured him. “It’s not for that I’m going.”

“I’ve heard...”

“I am sure I’ve heard whatever’s reached your ears, man, and I tell you, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

David looked patently unconvinced, but typically he agreed to go.

❖

The trees grew high near the stone house. In the bright moonlight, they were dark against it, their long branches lying over its half-shattered roof like spindly but protecting arms. Crouched in the high grass to the side of the cottage, Richard and David watched. They had been there nearly an hour, and though there were dim, flickering lights in the windows, none of them were blue, as David had insisted they would be. In fact, nothing to excite their curiosity had occurred until this moment when two figures in dark-hooded cloaks carried torches out to a clearing just behind their hiding place. It was wide and, in David’s eyes, ominously circular. “Brownies’n bogles’n witches, they do dance in such,” he muttered to Richard.

Somebody must have been doing something in that circle, Richard reasoned, for the grasses were broken and flattened. He did not attribute that condition to David’s cited causes, for he had just seen a flat stone within the circle. It was about six feet long and two feet wide. The word that sped to his mind was “altar.” In the darkness back of his eyes, he saw the table altar of the cavern and its fair burden—the lithe and beautiful body of Catlin O’Neill. The flame of desire flared and flickered out, doused by present reality. Richard glared at the stone, wondering if what he was beginning to suspect could possibly be true.

Beside him, David emitted a long, low whistle. Glancing up, Richard saw a thin man with a fiddle tucked beneath his chin, his body gleaming naked and white under the torchlight and the moon. The music he had begun to play was strangely beguiling. Others poured forth from the cottage. Mentally counting them, Richard found that there were twelve: six men and six women. Leading them was the thirteenth, the small woman. She did not appear to be much more than a girl. Her hair, dark and wavy, flowed over her bare shoulders. Her body was slender and incredibly graceful as she went through the patterns of a whirling, leaping, incredibly sensuous dance, bringing her followers close together in a sort of weaving motion.

David was watching. Richard guessed that the groom must be on fire with a lust he was experiencing himself. The wild music, the naked dancers, the suggestive movements were almost unbearably provocative.

“Take me... take me,” her pleas echoed in his head, as he stared at Erlina Bell, so little changed, so slim, so firm. He had taken her, unable to resist that plea because of the drug. Had she whispered her invitation at this moment, he would need no drugs to comply. Fortunately his anger was as great or possibly even greater than his desire. There was no need to fan the flames of that. She, who had asked for a haven, had brought the madness of Mednenham to his own woods!

“I cannot watch,” David groaned. “I want... I want...” His lean body was tense, his eyes ablaze. He started to crawl forward.

“David!” Richard held him down, gritting his teeth as a long woeful shriek reached them. Under his hand, he felt David relax.

“’Tis a girl,” the groom muttered.

“Very likely.” Richard drew and expelled a long breath as the cry was repeated. A second later she was thrust into view; she was no more than 16. Her hair was long and fair, her naked body a little plump but shapely. She struggled desperately.

“I know her,” David hissed. “She is Meg MacAlpin, the blacksmith’s oldest lass. I must help.”

“You must stay where you are,” Richard cautioned. “They’d tear you to pieces, man.”

“I’m a match for...” David tried to free himself from Richard’s grasp.

“One’s no match for thirteen,” Richard whispered. His own anger increased as he watched the girl sobbing and struggling. Erlina stepped forward. She held a cup, and fixing her eyes on Meg, she muttered something. The girl suddenly turned passive, staring blankly at her. A moment later, she took the cup and drained it. A silly smile appeared on her face. She started to giggle and continued giggling as two of the men lifted her onto the stone altar.

“God’s guts,” David muttered. “What be that?” Richard’s attention was diverted to a figure that had just dropped its dark cape to reveal the scarlet vestments of a priest beneath the head of a goat!

“’Tis Satan!” David moaned.

“’Tis a mask,” Richard contradicted through gritted teeth. “And I beg you, be silent.”

His warning was not needed. David was silent and rigid with horror as the whole obscene ceremony of the caverns was duplicated, complete with the orgiastic aftermath. Richard found himself acutely depressed. These puerile ceremonies had partially ruined his marriage. Poor Catlin believed the loss of so many babies was her punishment for having participated, however unwillingly, in a similar ritual. Over the years her conviction that she was damned for all eternity had grown. He had been unable to make her believe that she was the victim of a pack of sex-crazed lunatics. He wished that he could bring her here and show her this revolting spectacle, but it was too late. Let her know that such things were actually taking place on the grounds of the Hold and she might very well lose her fragile grip on sanity! He had a long sigh for the Catlin he had known at the beginning of their married life. If anyone ought to be damned for all eternity, he thought bitterly, it should be Sir Francis!

It was not until after sunrise that they could make their way back to the stables. “Take a couple hours sleep,” Richard advised his pale and shaken groom. “Then gather men you trust and join me here at nine.” He added tersely, “And I charge you, bring axes, crowbars and sledge hammers.”

❖

Erlina Bell looked better by dusk than by daylight was the thought that entered Richard’s mind as he faced her. The rough homespun gown she wore hid the luscious curves of her body, and her hair, piled untidily on the top of her head, resembled a rat’s nest. She stared at him and at the six grim men who stood a few paces behind him. Her dark eyes were wide, and surprise was the only readable emotion reflected in their obsidian depths. Time, Richard realized, had been less kind to her than he had imagined. There were deep lines on either side of her mouth. More seamed her forehead. There were flecks of grey in her hair. Yet, surprisingly enough, she still exuded a certain sensuous appeal, which he wished he had not noticed.

Tilting her head to one side, she said, “It’s been a long set of years since we’ve met, my Lord. Have you missed me and come to pass the time of day with me? If that’s the way the matter stands, I must needs bid you welcome.”

There was audacity and a challenge in her speech. Richard, with the events of the night large in his mind, longed to put her over his knee. Unfortunately such a gesture might not have resulted in the punishment she richly deserved. He said coldly, “I think you must know why I have come.”

Her eyes narrowed. “We made a bargain, you and I. My need has not grown less with the years. This house, I recall, was given me until I chose to leave. I do not so choose.”

“The choice is no longer yours, Mistress,” Richard stated. “I said you might...”

“You swore,” she interrupted.

“I swore you might remain here, but I did not give you leave to abuse your tenancy. Meg MacAlpin was found naked, ravished and raving in the fields this morning. They fear for her sanity.”

“If Meg MacAlpin’s the blacksmith’s child, her sanity is a precarious thing at best. But why should you come to me with these tales?”

“Who better?” Richard snapped. “I saw the whole of your... ceremony last night.”

“You... watched?” she whispered accusingly.

Richard knew basilisks did not exist, but if they had, their fabled stare might have been very similar to the one he was currently receiving from his soon-to-be-late tenant. He said calmly, “I watched, and so I think it’ll not surprise you when I tell you, I want you out of this place and quickly.”

Her hands curled into fists. “Need I remind you...” she began.

“You need remind me of nothing.” He flung the words back at her. “I renounce that oath and warn you that if you’re not off this land within the hour, I’ll have you thrown off. My men are aching to do it.”

“I warn you not to insist upon this desecration,” she cried. “Else my curse shall follow you...”

“Desecration? One desecrates a church or a temple or a shrine, but not such a place as this. As for your curses,” Richard’s smile combined insolence with mockery, “curse away, my dear Erlina. I’ll add them to my collection. Now go and be quick about it. My men are as anxious as myself to see the last of you!”

The fire faded from her eyes. She sagged against her door which was, Richard noted, battered and hanging by one hinge. The whole house was, as he remembered, a crumbling wreck, barely livable. Erlina Bell’s look, he also noted, was actually conciliating, and he guessed he had really frightened her. Fool, he thought contemptuously. She and Dashwood were both fools, substituting one so-called eminence for another in their futile quest for earthly power.

“Please...” Erlina Bell whispered. “I will go, but I have no place as yet. I pray you let me remain until I find another.”

“You may remain as long as it takes you to gather such belongings as you can carry, Mistress. I give you an hour, then my men will escort you to my gates. No doubt, you’ll find some other fool to take you in.”

Her assumed humility dropped with amazing swiftness. Her eyes actually flamed. “I warn you, Richard Veringer,” she cried hoarsely. “I warn you that...”

His patience fled. “Too many warnings, Mistress, and too little action. I think we must needs supply that.” He gestured to the men behind him. “Have at the house, and I charge you, do not leave one stone of it standing.”

She shrieked then, a long wail, as they rushed forward, thrusting her aside, their hammers and crowbars poised. “No, damn you, damn you, double-damn you a hundred times. My elixir... my glass, my elixir... my potions!” she howled.

“Poisons, you mean. Noxious poisons, drugs to dull the senses, let them shatter and sink into the earth!” Richard exclaimed.

She screamed again and ran in amongst the men only to be thrown violently back by David. She fell in a heap and struggled to her feet. The sound of their tools was loud against the crumbling stones. She ran forward a second time, striving to grasp a tall beaker which even as she touched it was knocked from her hand, shattering into a thousand pieces as it hit the stones. A scarlet liquid soaked into the earth, and she howled in agony. Then she reached down and retrieved something else, clutching it protectively against her bosom and dashing out. The sun’s gleam was caught in the object, and Richard, blinking against its brightness, saw that it was a witching ball. “I pray you’ll tell me my fortune, Mistress Bell,” he mocked. “What do you espy in your crystal?”

She regarded him out of reddened eyes. In a low voice she said, “I see a long, long road, Richard Veringer. As you have broken your oath and destroyed my home and more—more than you know—so will your home be destroyed and so will those you love be loathed and feared as they go forth upon the byways of this world and have no resting place until they find some plot of ground which will receive them. But the searching will be arduous and the way fearful. That will be the fate of the Veringer household—and that is my curse upon you, Richard Veringer. I am not finished with you!” Behind him, the ancient walls of the cottage crashed down upon each other, leaving only a heap of stones. Richard stared at Erlina Bell with grim amusement. “I might tell you, Mistress, that I do not believe in curses or omens, gods or devils or any of the fantasies concocted by charlatans such as yourself to confound mens’ minds.”

She stared at the heap of stones, blinking against the dust that arose from them. “Do you not believe, my Lord? One wonders what you’ll be saying in seven years?”

“I do not anticipate a change in opinions I have held for the whole of my lifetime,” he retorted coldly. Reaching into an inner pocket, he brought out some coins and handed them to her. “Let these keep you until you find another roof.” She took the coins and, spitting on them, flung them at his feet. “There are those who’ll give me shelter, right enough. I tax you, sir, remember me when seven years have come and gone!”

He laughed into her furious face. “I doubt I’ll be able to remember you in seven days, Mistress Bell.” He turned to David. “Escort this woman across the bridge that spans the moat.” With a wave of his hand, he mounted his horse and rode home in high good humor.

C
olin was lost and had no notion how he had become lost save that while riding toward the Hold, he had been thinking about Kathleen or, rather, Juliet. Her birthday present lay in his knapsack, the prettiest little ivory fan he could find. It was not too small because the spokes must be wide enough to accomodate the names of the men who would wish to dance with her at her forthcoming ball. He supposed he should have waited to present the gift. His sister would not be 18 until mid-November, but at her earnest request, the ball would be given within the week.