Ravens Deep (one) (31 page)

             
What should I do?  Where is Darius?  Maybe he will just walk by and keep walking, I could
avoid eye contact.  Just ignore him and he will go away. 

             
All these thoughts and more ran frantically through my head, then Darius moved into my line of sight.  His silhouette partially obscured the hooded figure from me, even though they were only a few feet away.  I shuddered, sensing a frightening situation about to unfold.  The robed figure tried to talk, but a garbled sound was the only noise that came from him. Instinctively I got up from the stone, frightened of what was happening.  Darius’s hand was gripping the man’s throat.  Darius had seen my movement, because in the same instant, he turned his head towards me.

             
Stay there!
   Were the words that came to me, but he hadn’t spoken. I quickly sat

down
again, too frightened not to obey him.

             
What should I do? What could I do?

             
Darius was about to kill someone here right in front of me and every instinct inside my head cried out in protest. I had to stop him.

             
“Darius,” I whispered loudly, catching my breath in a sob, “please don’t.” My heart was pounding now, my throat was dry, but Darius gave me a long look, before he dragged the robed figure behind an ancient stone, and out of my sight.

             
My breath came back to me in a stifled gasp, I wanted to stop Darius, I wanted to reason with him, but fear kept me rooted to the spot, the only thing I could do was clasp my hands tightly together to stop them shaking, and hold my breath to stop myself crying out loud.

             
This had started out as a perfect evening, but we shouldn’t’t have come here. It was my fault and another death on my already guilty conscience. I tried to think positive, I thought that perhaps Darius would not harm him, he would frighten him perhaps -- but whom was I kidding? I closed my eyes, in my mind I silently chanted. 

             
Not here, not in this sacred place.

             
“Why not?” Darius’s voice startled me. I opened my eyes. “For a modern day druid what better place for his sacrifice, than in a sacred place likes this?” he said darkly.  I looked up at him, my vision blurry from my tears.  He reached down and pulled me up close to him, his hand was very warm, in fact his skin was hot.

             
I was still shaking, frightened of the situation, the implications and the horror, but I could think of nothing to say. I already knew that he did this all the time, the only difference was, I had witnessed it tonight.

             
Did it make me love him any less? 

             
Darius sensed the inner conflict, his voice was very gentle.

             
“If you want me to exist then this is how it has to be.”

             
“I want you to exist,” I echoed, “more than anything else.”  He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

             
“Go and get into the car, Madeline.”

             
I felt unsteady as I made my way down the incline, trying not to glance in the direction of the body that lay crumpled at the foot of the stones. The sensation of nausea was in the pit of my stomach and I willed myself not to think about what I had seen.

             
Just as I reached the car hidden in the shadows of the trees, a bright light emanated from the base of one of the ancient stones.

             
A sacrificial fire!

Chapter Twenty Five - Chantille

             
We left the expanse of Salisbury Plain behind and drove again into the night.  We

progressed
west for a few more miles and we were silent. I was unable to shake the memories of earlier and Darius sensed my feelings, he too was quiet, he was most likely calculating the best way to deal with them.

             
I closed my eyes and tried not to think and when I finally did open them, I realized the landscape had changed dramatically.  We were driving through dense woodlands and our sudden decrease in speed drew my attention to the probability that we were close to our destination. 

             
Darius brought the car to a stop and I looked up to a pair of wrought iron gates, which were already opening to allow our passage through.  We passed through the gates and then progressed between a narrow avenue of oak and beech trees, too numerous to count. The headlights of the car suddenly brought the house into view.  It seemed to stand silent and forgotten, buried deep in this Wiltshire wood.  The car stopped and the reassuring purr of the engine died, leaving the air noiseless and still.  Darius turned to me.

             
“Welcome to Chantille.”

             
My eyes met his and in that moment, I was not thinking about the house or where we were, my thoughts were chaotic.

             
“Darius how can I deal with this?  I know I am weak and my feelings vulnerable to the horrors of your immortality.  I wish it was not, but it is . . . I can‘t just brush them aside easily.” 

             
“I know,” he said softly. “I feel your pain, Madeline.”

             
I looked away from him and stared down to my tightly clasped hands.  I tried to continue evenly, but I was failing to steady the inconsistent tone of my voice.

             
“My every instinct tells me of the horror, the terror and repulsion I should feel and yet when I look at you, I don’t see that.  I see only my love for you, powerful and all consuming.” I paused briefly, “I feel sometimes as though I am being torn in two,” I said in anguish looking back into his eyes. Darius took my hands in his own.

             
“You have to forgive and then forget what I have done, it can be no other way,” he replied firmly.

             
“I know that, I do,” I answered weakly. “Because I also know regardless of what you have done, or will do, I love you more than the pain and anguish I feel.”

             
“I know,” he said softly. “This life, this existence is worth it only because of you.” With those words he pulled me into his arms. His firm embrace made me feel secure and comforted.

             
“Let it go Madeline,” he said at last. “We have to move forward from this night, forget what you have seen tonight.” He continued to soothe me with his words for a while and as I listened to his voice and the way he spoke, the anguish seemed to melt away and when I stepped from the car the feeling of despair left me entirely. I looked up at the house that stood before us.

             
“It looks very old,” I remarked.  Even in the dim light, I could see that the limestone walls were spotted with lichen. It was an interesting property, with its mullioned windows, undulating tiled roof and various prominent chimneys protruded above the roof line. Without taking a single step inside, I imagined it would be reminiscent of a moment in time that has long since passed. 

             
“It dates from the mid seventeenth century,” Darius said, interrupting my thoughts.  He took the key he had been holding and fitted it into the lock.  We entered through a studded oak door, our footsteps sounding eerily loud upon the flagstone floors. We continued forward through the hall and entered into what would have been the main saloon. The furnishings still were arranged into several seating areas and I discovered later that this was by far the largest room in the house. 

             
Darius removed candles out of a Jacobean candle box that rested on a table directly inside the door.  He lit several candles and an old oil lamp, to enable me to see better and explained that the house had remained as he had acquired it and had never been updated.               To a modern girl like me that meant: no plumbing, electricity or heating. Although I did see that there was an old stone fireplace with a black empty grate in the wall, and I could imagine that it would have cheered the room significantly when it had been lit, but now the air felt static and chilled.

             
It was just as I had thought; this house belonged to a different period in time.  Left alone and abandoned for so many years and not a living soul had entered this house until tonight. Darius told me that nothing had been touched or removed in all those years, so as I saw it now was how he had acquired it shortly after Benjamin Grey’s death. That notion did give me a peculiar feeling, and I wondered if all his belongings and those of his wife and child still remained.  I half expected to hear the echo’s of their voices filling the rooms and I shivered inwardly.

             
Darius glanced at me and explained that he never spent any time in the house, only in the cellar. It was a matter of necessity that he came here during the summer months.  We continued walking around, and Darius lit an old oil lamp, it gave out a soft glow, and lighted our way ahead.  The comfortable armchairs were strewn with tapestry cushions, an old piano stood forlorn in a corner, and beamed ceilings and oak panelling were evident throughout the property. I briefly looked into various rooms, cluttered with old worn furniture before we reached the staircase.  It was steep, rickety and narrow and we made our way upwards to the main bedroom.

             
“You will be comfortable in this room,” Darius said, holding the lamp higher so I might see better.

             
“You are not leaving me are you?” I asked feeling nervous.  I really didn’t’t want him to leave me alone here.  I did not want to witness Benjamin Grey or his family members manifest themselves in front of me.  After everything that had happened tonight, I didn’t’t think my nerves could stand any more shocks, however benign the intention.

             
“No, I will stay with you until you fall asleep, but there is nothing to be afraid of,” Darius said reassuringly. I gave him a weak smile.

             
“It just feels a bit creepy in here.  The sort of place you would expect to be haunted,” I offered in explanation. Darius grinned at me.

             
“I thought you didn’t’t mind ghosts,” he said cordially.  I hesitated before answering.

             
“Just make sure I am really asleep before you leave me,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Where will you be?”

             
“There is an old cellar; I won’t take you down there. You would find it . . . even more creepy,” he answered, the amusement obvious in his voice. “When you wake you can explore the house, you will not disturb me and you are quite safe here.”  I averted my gaze from him and looked down at the bed.

             
“When did someone last sleep here?” I asked, eyeing the blankets and covers with

distaste
. Darius thought for a moment.

             
“1877,” he said at last.

             
That disclosure made me feel very strange, in fact the whole place did.  I really could believe that I had travelled back in time, nothing moved, nothing touched for over a century.  Impervious to my reaction Darius lay down on the bed and pulled me after him, his body was close against mine and my breathing shallowed as he fixed me with his steady green gaze that captivated my attention.  His lingering kiss tempted me further and his touch sent an erotic shiver through my body as his pursuit of enrapture continued.  My earlier feelings of being haunted diminished as I succumbed to his sensual seduction.

             
“I love you Madeline,” it was barely a whisper.

He tightened his hold on me and I forgot how unclean or ancient any of the surroundings were.  There was only him and I, and caught up in my desire for him, nothing else mattered.

*  *  * 

             
I awoke around midday -- alone.  I had been oblivious to Darius’s pre dawn departure to the cellar. I got up quickly and started to make the bed, but in the daylight, the covers on the bed were as I suspected, extremely dirty and dusty. Instead of remaking it, I ended up stripping the bed entirely and discovered that the mattress was ancient and made of some kind of straw. Next time I would bring new linens with me, but for now I gathered up the old and stuffed them in an old wooden chest that was positioned under the window.  I opened the antique wardrobe, and found several vintage dresses and gentlemen’s clothes.  Just as I thought, all the personal possessions of the Grey’s were still here.  I quickly closed the wardrobe feeling as if I was trespassing on their memories.

             
I walked down the stairs and headed outside, I had found out the night before that this old house contained no bathroom, only a stone outhouse of a very rough construction.  Water had to be drawn from the old well at the rear of the property, and much to my dismay, the water was icy cold.