Read The Curious Quests of Brigadier Ffellowes Online

Authors: Sterling E. Lanier

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Fantasy Fiction; American

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BOOK: The Curious Quests of Brigadier Ffellowes
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"Thank God, Isobel and I have no kids yet," he went on. 'We were sorry before, but, by the Eternal, we're not now. They'd have gone off their chumps at half of what we've been through in the past fortnight
.
' And this remark also set me thinking, though in a quite other direction to his.

 

             
"Now we were winding up the long drive to Avalon House, leaving the sea cliffs at our backs. As we pulled up to the entry, we saw two figures on the stairs. One was Isobel, whom I knew and loved, but with her face pallid and haunted
-
looking, and lines no woman her age should have possessed around her eyes and mouth. She seemed
particularly
glad to see us both.

 

             
"There was no welcome in the eyes of the other figure,
and I knew who he was long before James made the introduction. I had seen Lord Lionel's picture on many occasions, but I should have known him anywhere, I think.

 

             
"He was middle-sized, far below his brother's blond bulk in height, and as dark and pale as James was fair and ruddy. He was by no means ugly, his long black hair framing a white, clean-shaved face of considerable good looks. Nor was he a weakling, for his shoulders were immense for his stature, and his grip was that of an athlete. Yet I disliked him on sight, the instant I saw the cold jet eyes, and should have done so even had I not known of his past record.

 

             
"His voice was rather high and strident as he turned to speak to his brother. 'You'll have to call off those peasants of yours, James,' he said in an arrogant way. 'Damned if I can afford to have these
taradiddles
of yours mucking up a site I am working on. That fool of a gardener was staring at my men the other day for an hour while they worked. They are highly trained and I can't afford to have them upset, d'you hear!'

 

             
"His tone was quite insufferable, and his brother flushed to the eyebrows. I was expecting trouble right then and there, but James controlled himself admirably. I expect he had had plenty of practice in his youth.

 

             
" 'I shall see no one bothers you,' he answered coldly. 'You know why the men are looking about even though you profess to believe none of it
.
Since you have neither help nor advice to offer, I suggest that you, in turn, stay out of my hair!'

 

             
"It was a funny little scene, or rather odd. Lionel actually took a step backward, and Isobel looked at her husband in puzzlement I don't think either of them had expected the icy tone or the rebuke from my gentle friend. I must say it took me by surprise as well.

 

             
"Lionel left abruptly and we went into the house. The butler, Traheal, was an old acquaintance of mine from the
Penruddock
townhouse, and he took me up to my room.

 

             
'His Lordship told me why he had asked you, Captain, if I may be so bold,' he said. 'We badly need some help, sir.' His voice dropped as he went on. 'The Powers of Darkness, sir, that's what we're facing. In my opinion, we need a priest
.
If this goes on we'll all have to leave.'

 

             
"He had been a sergeant on the Western Front and was no chicken. I bathed and got ready for dinner in a state of some perturbation.

 

             
"Dinner passed quietly, but conversation was strained, and there were long periods of silence as each of us fell into our own thoughts. We went early to bed.

 

             
"I awoke suddenly about three a.m. with a sense that something was about to happen. On impulse, I moved to the window and looked out
.
A red half-moon was partly hid by racing clouds, and the wind seemed to be rising. The stunted trees down toward the cliff face were bending toward the house. For some reason I felt that something was racing to the land from far, far out on the deeps.

 

             
"Then there came a sound. It seemed to come from a long way away, but it was very loud. It did have a direction, which seemed to me to be down the coast to my left
.
I was on the second floor, in a room facing the front drive and hence the sea. As to the sound, it was really several sounds, a medley, so to say. Overriding the rest were what sounded like the blaring of several immense trumpets, echoing and challenging, a brazen uproar. Under this ran a strange susurration of what sounded like shouting, or perhaps screams, with an occasional ringing noise, as of metal being struck. All this ran perhaps twenty seconds and then was cut off suddenly. There was a pause and I could hear the west wind gathering strength.

 

             
"Across that in turn broke out the horrible squealing cry, or cries, which James had described to me in the car as the sound of pigs being killed. But in me they produced a different reaction. I felt I was listening to something with a note of triumph, as if something foul beyond endurance,
and not only foul but alien, was rejoicing and reveling in victory. It made my flesh creep, and my hands went white as I pressed the window ledge.

 

             
"This, too, was suddenly cutoff, and now the wind was making all the noise needed, tearing and raging in from the ocean and buffeting the house with great fury. The clouds were blasted away from the moon, and far out at sea I could see the white spume of great waves.

 

             
"On impulse, I opened the window, which, like all in the house, had been both shut and bolted. The wind tore into the room, making the heavy drapes stand out, and actually pushed me back a bit! As it did so, I had the most extraordinary sensation. I smelt apple blossoms! And not just smelt them, I felt drenched in the scent, delicious and exhilarating. Now early April may produce this scent in southern England, but hardly at night on a sea cliff in the midst of a gale! Time seemed to stand still as I inhaled the delicious odor, and I could hear nothing over the roar of the great winds.

 

             
"Then, that too was gone, after some few minutes, perhaps ten. The wind dropped to a gentle breeze, the clouds gathered, and a light rain began to fall. I was suddenly conscious that my room door was open, that I was wearing silk pajamas and was getting awfully cold. I slammed the window shut and turned to find James standing in the doorway.

 

             
"He was wearing a dressing gown and slippers over his night clothes. And he was staring at the window and the night sky over my shoulder, a strange look of pain on his face. His face had lost
any trace of its normal amiability and looked hard and set
.
He spoke softly, as if to himself.

 

             
" 'Too late, too late!' he said. 'Ever the cycle repeats and there is no escape.' His voice dropped and he said two more words I could hardly catch at all. One sounded like 'curse' while the other might have been 'migraine' or something that sounded like it
.

 

             
"Then his face cleared and it was as if he had seen me
for the first time. 'Well, Donald,' he said in his normal tones, 'what do you think of a month of things on that nature? A pretty noise to have around one's home, eh, quite apart from all else. D'you wonder I fear for Isobel's sanity?'

 

             
" 'Why don't you leave?' I said on impulse. 'Or at least, send her away while you and I try to puzzle this out'

 

             
" 'Because she won't go.' His voice was inexpressibly tired. 'Not unless I go and I can't! I must stay and face this thing down and I don't know why. I just know I must. My God, what have we done to be afflicted with this?'

 

             
"I did not refer to the earlier words he had spoken, then or later. I was sure, you see, that he had no memory of them and would have been further upset by the conviction that his mind was going, and this was the last thing I wanted. We were going to need clear heads before this business was over, of that I was sure. But the words had started a train of thought in my mind, though I hardly dared voice my thoughts, even to myself. They were too monstrous and incredible.

 

             
"The next morning I spent some time in the library, a vast old place in which my host and hostess seldom entered, neither being bookworms. It had many rare volumes, collected by ancestral Penruddocks no doubt, but modern things, too, and I had no trouble finding the reference I sought I still could not quite face what I was thinking, for if I was right, a tragedy as old as time was building up before my very eyes, and I was powerless to interfere.

 

             
"The morning passed quietly enough. None of us referred to the previous night, by common and unspoken agreement, but the faces of all of us were haggard and full of strain. The servants were very quiet, but their faces were set and grim. Theirs' was loyalty indeed. I honor them.

 

             
"After lunch I asked James if he thought Lionel would mind if I strolled down to look at his site. The castle lay a mile or so south on the coast, and for reasons of my own I wished very much to see it, as well as to find out exactly how
it could be reached in the most expeditious manner.

 

             
" 'Can't think why he should object,' said my host 'But you've seen what he can be like, damn him. He's always been like that, you know. A word and blow, that's Lionel since birth. No one but mother could stick him at all, and he even frightened her at times.' His face hardened in thought
.

 

             
" 'I can't think why you shouldn't be allowed to look at his work. It's my own castle, when all's said and done, not his. Go ahead. He'll hardly be likely to treat you as he does the servants, after all. But you can be prepared for some piece of rudeness, all the same. I wish to goodness he'd
take it into his head to go away! I don't think he has a friend in this country, even among his fellow pot hunters.'

 

             
"Back in my room I put on heavy shoes, for the track to the castle was a rough one, I had been warned. I also borrowed a stout stick, of blackthorn, from the cane holder downstairs, and thus equipped, I set out
.

 

             
"It was a still afternoon and fog lay in the hollows. I had excellent directions and a pocket compass as well, for there were bogs and
ghylls
as well as the sea cliffs, of course. But I swung somewhat inland. I did not want to be observed as I went from the cliff cottage, and the road ran past the drive to Avalon and stopped there. I saw the roof of the cottage well before I got to it and was able to avoid it by going even further east until I was well past
.
The going was not bad, and though I saw no bogs close by, I caught glimpses of livid green in the distance, but way off my line of march. Now I angled back toward the coast, and after another half mile or so, I saw the castle in front of me. I had studied pictures of the thing in the house, but the reality was something else.

 

             
"A great point of dark rock jutted out over the sea, perhaps a hundred yards square. In the center of this, on a flat area, lay a huge pile of tumbled blocks, as black or blacker than the weathered cliff on which they rested. The foundation layers were intact, to double the height of a man, but above that, all was destroyed. The huge blocks of stone looked as if some giant had reached down and crushed the upper courses into ruin, like jackstraws turned over by a child. I do not think modern explosives could have done a more thorough job, even today. I had no idea that engines of destruction had reached such a level in medieval times, or even earlier, if some of the rumors about this place were correct
.

 

             
"The area looked truly desolate, for I could see none of the white streaks that would indicate that sea birds nested there. But as I worked my way closer, down a bracken
-
covered slope, I began to feel uncomfortable. There was an atmosphere I did not like about this pile of time-worn rock. I could see why the locals disliked the place. I felt an air of something menacing, as if somewhere around me something old and strange were brooding over its wrongs, with silent hate emanating from every fiber of its being. I raised my glance and saw the smoke of a steamer far out on the wave-tossed horizon. Around the cliff foot, hundreds of feet below, the sea beat endlessly with a constant roar. But this view of normal things did not dispel the feelings that had been aroused by the pile of shattered stones before me. Almost, they seemed to increase them, by making the place itself more of an intruder, something which had no habitation here in the normal world.

BOOK: The Curious Quests of Brigadier Ffellowes
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