Nachtstürm Castle (19 page)

“ ‘When has he ever left?’ my brother asked.
 
‘Have you been so blinded that you have not seen him every second stepping forth from picture frames?’

“I confessed that I had not; realizing with a start that although
I
had supposed Edric gone for good, he had merely gone where I would not look.
 
Still I attempted to speak reason with my brother, saying that the use of force against force could not but help the enemy.

“Never shall I forget the look my brother gave me then, for I have never seen such anger before or since; no, neither from his son, my nephew, who has every right, nor from my father who took every advantage. ‘He has insulted my wife,’ William said at last.
 
The steadiness of his voice shook me more than his raving might have.

“ ‘Have you the ocular proof?’

“ ‘I have her word, and my own knowledge of what he is. Long have I suspected that he had some design upon her, but I kept my peace lest I disturb hers. Already I have banished the devil from my son’s presence – for I have caught the demon weaving horrid stories to him, maligning my family’s honour with fanciful tales of the barons’ long–gone wives. He speaks to Will of spells and curses.
 
I have even heard him say that the locket Cecelia wears holds magical properties akin to a love posset. He would make a heathen of my son, and a whore of my wife – and I tell you, Andrew, I
will
not have it!’

“ ‘But what
proof
have you?’ I pressed.

“ ‘Rest assured, Father, I have the proof.’

“His voice chilled me. ‘What do you intend?’ I asked at last, although the answer stood baying about me.

“ ‘To kill him, if such a thing as he may be killed.’

“ ‘You would have murder upon your soul?’ I cried.

“ ‘I have you to shrive me,’ he answered with a sad grin. Then, laying one hand upon my shoulder, he said, ‘This is no place for a priest, brother. Tend to your flock; I to the wolves.’

“He left me then, swinging up on his horse and cantering down the narrow path, the dogs running with him and his retainers galloping after. Where he intended to find Edric, or how, I had not thought to ask and perhaps my brother had not thought to consider. Since I was already at the castle, I entered its confines to be with my nephew and consult my sister. I found Will in a dark corridor, staring solemnly at one of the tapestries – the Saracen abducting his bride. Even in the shadows, I could see that his breast rose and fell erratically, as though he stifled tears.

“ ‘Has Papa gone?’ he inquired as I came behind him.

“ ‘Indeed he has,’ I replied.

“A minute passed where we neither said anything. My nephew ran his palm across his eyes and took a little breath. Then, almost too low for me to make out the words, he said, ‘I hope he gets him.’ The words fell silently to the floor, like the dust we had stirred up from our passage. Will rubbed more vigorously at his reddened eyes, and said again with a dreadful vehemence, ‘
I hope he gets him
!’

“For answer I lay my arms around his slim shoulders and let him weep. When the saint chose this habit, my dear Frau Tilney, he chose well – for a finer cloth would have been ruined with the wracking sobs my nephew rained about my neck that day. At last Will found voice again and still upon my shoulders, he said, ‘Tell me, Uncle, will Papa save her?’

“Unsure whether the question referred to a general or specific grievance, I asked him to explain himself. I will tell you a summation of what he said, Frau Tilney, for the whole story amidst my questioning and his tears took the better part of an hour.

“Donna Fortuna had woken in a poor mood, that morning, and although William had asked her ailment, she would not say, beyond that she must see me. Apparently, though, shortly after she had set off for my hermitage, Edric had managed to have a private word with Will in the garden.

“ ‘Do you know where your mother has gone?’ he asked my nephew.

“Will, honest to a fault, had answered truthfully, adding, ‘But you cannot follow her there, can you!’

“To my nephew’s surprise, Edric had not stormed away, but said, ‘Why should I wish to pursue one who will come when I call?’ And with that, the vile monster had grabbed my nephew’s arm and pulled him down the corridors and into Donna Fortuna’s rooms. He threw poor Will into the wardrobe and locked it.
 
Then, like a tyger, he awaited his prey.

“Donna Fortuna arrived an hour later and gave a little shout when she saw Edric within her chamber. And what did he want, she asked. Oh, nothing of import, he replied, merely an academic study of human nature. This last, throwing open the closet doors and holding close my poor Will, so terrified he could not even scream. Donna Fortuna’s fine dark eyes widened, and she flung out her arms to her son – but Edric held fast. With burning cheeks, she asked the price of ransom.

“ ‘What is he worth?’ Edric had replied, stroking Will’s hair. ‘This bastard son?’

“ ‘No bastard, as God is my witness!’ Donna Fortuna had said. ‘What do you demand?’

“ ‘No bastard? Then he is worth more than my price.’

“ ‘You have yet to name one!’

“Edric ceased tormenting the child with his caresses and looked at my sister with eyes that reflected the eternal inferno. ‘Your life, Fräulein Durande. What else?’

“ ‘Then take it,’ she answered, without so much as a glance at her son.

“With one swift leap the beast threw aside young Will, grasped Cecelia’s hand, and dragged her out of the castle, leaving my nephew to wail after her. So traumatised was he, that for several minutes my nephew could do nothing but shriek as though to crumble the stone down upon them all.
 
When he came to his senses so much time had passed that he hardly knew where he was or why his throat was sore. His scream had roused the household, servants and dogs and horses and all.
 
His father arrived first of all and divined the necessaries. Soon after my brother had set out after his wife’s abductor – and I had arrived.

“We waited all that night and the remainder of the next day for William to return from the hunt. We heard the dogs defeated whimper by sunset of the second day, as well as the clack of exhausted hooves upon the cobblestones. We need hardly see William to know that he had failed. With the aid of the servants, I attempted to cajole him to rest, but he could not – and so helplessly I watched him pace the length of that room in which he had composed his first sonnet. During that night, he related to me how he had found Cecelia, dead in the ledge beyond the graveyard, her neck broken. He himself had buried her, and placed a simple cross at her head. As for myself, I kept the counsel of young Will silent – surely, my brother did not need another grief.
 
Some doubted her death; Edric himself made sure to spread rumour that she had thrown herself to her doom – but none who knew her could believe it.
 
She was given all the funeral rites and many still make pilgrimage to her grave as though to a saint.

“The morning seemed to bring some peace, as did the brief year after, when we neither saw nor heard of Edric. The tragedy had caused Nachtväl to once again clothe herself in deepest mourning for full six months, for Donna Fortuna had been well loved by all she met. I myself suggested that Will be sent for some little time to live with his cousins in Gesette, while my brother slowly recovered. This was agreed to, and the following spring I brought my nephew across the Alps myself. Our neighbours are little different than ourselves – they are more vocal, and given to acting upon their feelings – and the tragedy which had precipitated this fostering touched their deepest souls and helped them welcome the poor boy with arms open wide.

“I remember that day, as Will sat sombrely by my side whilst I conversed with his aunt, Donna Fortuna’s sister, that I saw his young cousin, Lucia, playing outside the small villa within the bright garden. Occasionally, her black tousled head would peek through the open window, and her black eyes would shine mischievously inside. Her aspect, even at that age, reminded me so of my dear departed sister that I could not help noticing her – although my nephew, raised to be a baron, stalwartly refused to even glimpse in her direction. Some little while later, as my cousin walked us to Will’s rooms – which were across the courtyard – our party was suddenly accosted by pert little Lucia, who demanded to know what sort of thing we’d brought who would not even look at her!

“My nephew gave his name stiffly, as well as his title. Lucia frowned and stuck out her tongue. ‘Bah!’ said she. ‘What do I care for border lords? I shall call you Will, for that is your name.’ Sly creature! Perforce, of courtesy, my nephew must now inquire after her name, which she gave readily – rattling off a long list of Virgin Martyrs, and ending with: ‘And do you think me pretty?’

“ ‘I do,’ my nephew replied, somewhat shocked at her impertinence.

“ ‘Good,’ said she, and flounced away: her work accomplished.

“I cannot relate to you the remainder of their courtship, for I returned to Nachtväl after only a few days. Upon my return, I was informed by one of the townspeople that since I had left, a figure not unlike Edric had been seen flitting about the forest. The servants claimed that they had not seen that devil, though – and so I let pass the report as another superstitious fancy of my people.

“Alas the day! I had, perhaps, become better at my office, but not in my disposition. I had learnt temperance as a priest, but not as a person – and although I had not compromised the sacraments in many years, yet I had not learnt true discernment for all my trouble. So unbeknownst to me, the next five years were my brother’s private Hell – for Edric had found purchase to Nachtstürm, hiding within its deserted passageways and first whispering in my brother’s ear whilst he slept, and then when he woke, until finally the demon reinstated himself as the master of the castle.

“I first knew of the change when, some three years after the tragedy, I decided to visit William, since one of the groomsmen had told me that his master had seemed particularly unwell the last few days. I found him slouched in the library, far in the most dismal corner. The malady I first conceived to be a depression of spirits – and in this I was partially correct: my brother was, actually, in the very fist of despair. He had let his head sink upon his breast; one white hand shaded his brow. Beside him lay an open Bible – the same that you would now find in my chapel, Frau Tilney. The fingers of his other hand lay upon the first page, upon which was neatly listed our family. His hand obscured his own name, as well as that of his wife and child, as though he could not bear to read them. Gently, I called to him. He was a long time in looking up at me; an even longer recalling my face.

“ ‘Andrew?’ he said at last, something of the old smile shadowing his lips. ‘Is it you?’

“ ‘Indeed!’ I cried. ‘Although I might ask whether you are quite yourself.’

“ ‘I am,’ said he in a distant voice. His eyes wandered to the candle, which illuminated the book by the light of its guttering flame. My eyes lingered that way too. The wax would soon consume the old wick.

“ ‘May I trim it for you?’ I asked. William did not seem to either understand or hear me. I was obliged to repeat the question.

“The confused, helpless look that crossed my brother’s face touched me to my very bone. The words which followed only confirmed my suspicion – dull as I am – that something more than a complaint of the body was at work upon my brother. ‘Trim the candle? I – I do not know. He may not like it.’

“ ‘He? Of whom do you speak?’ I demanded. William could not reply directly; his words wandered. A fear that I had not known those many months gripped me. I seized my brother’s shoulders and shook him, thundering out my question again and again.

“ ‘He speaks of me, Herr Wiltford,’ came the silty reply behind me.

“I looked and saw emerging from the shadows the blackest fiend that ever walked the earth. My brother gave a sob that put a little courage in me – although a very little.

“ ‘You have no power here,’ said I, reaching within my robes for this crucifix.

“Edric only laughed politely. ‘It is you who have no power,’ said he. ‘You cannot chuse for your brother…and he has welcomed me.’

“ ‘You speak truth when it suits you,’ spat I. ‘Yet I may chuse for myself!’ And with that, I flew at him, brandishing my small crucifix. I have never been a strong man – the ways of the hunt or the sword never thrilled me – and yet in that moment I felt a power within me I had known only a few times in contemplation. In a rush, I flung him against the wall and jabbed the image against his breast. Such an unholy shriek rang up from him, mixing with the smoke from the charred clothing upon his body! Still I pressed on, until his skin began to boil against my fingertips and sear my own skin. The pain and heat nearly made me faint, yet harder I pressed, muttering fierce ‘Aves’ as though they were swords. Frau Tilney, I have never killed a man, nor did I that ghastly night, nor could I kill a man who had no heart to tear from within him. I burnt a hole through Edric’s breast, and found within him no beating organ, but a hollow cave, so cold it seemed to burn my arm. What a look of ill–got triumph shone in that fiend’s eyes as I stood in horror. I can still hear his slow chuckle.