Part 36 (1/2)
”No,” I said, or tried to. The mist filled my mouth; I could not speak.
The shadow prowled closer.
I fled back up the front steps, but as I reached the top a growling sounded on the air, so low it was a thing felt as much as heard. A dark form loped through the open door. I turned; the other shadow was halfway up the steps.
There is a point where dread becomes so great the mind can no longer endure it and so gives it up completely. In my fear, a kind of madness came upon me. My heart did not slow, but I no longer felt any desire to run. Terror had made a crystal of my mind: sharp-faceted and clear. They were not here to murder me but for another purpose.
Let them, I thought with a sudden elation. Let them try to make use of me for their own ends! I spread my arms wide and held my chin high.
”Come, then, take me,” I spoke into the fog. ”Take me to the Wyrdwood-if you dare it.”
There was a snarl, and the shadow leaped up.
Lightning flashed, a clap of thunder rent the air. There was a pitiful whine. The thing crumpled in a heap on the steps below me and did not move again. There was a clattering sound. More shapes moved up the steps. Only these were tall and upright.
”By G.o.d, hold your fire! There is a woman there!”
At the same moment another snarl sounded behind me, and again light and sound tore the mist asunder.
”d.a.m.n you, I said hold your fire!”
The mist swirled and parted. A man stood before me, a rifle in his hands. He wore the blue regimental coat of a captain.
”Madam, are you well?” His eyes were wide. ”Tell me, are you hurt?”
I tried to answer him, but my ears rang from the rifle shots, and the sound had struck me dumb.
Other soldiers appeared from the gloom behind the captain. ”Where is the inquirer? Get him now!”
”I am here,” spoke a deep, familiar voice.
So filled with relief was I at the sound that my legs could no longer support me. I would have dashed my head against the steps if the captain had not caught me. Then another pair of hands took me, holding me aloft with easy strength, though they had but eight fingers between them.
”You are well, aren't you?” His brown eyes were intent upon me. ”Tell me you are well.”
I reached up and laid a hand against his bearded cheek. ”Mr. Quent.”
”It looks as if we got two more of the dogs, sir,” one of the men said.
Dogs. Yes, that was what they had seemed like: great, s.h.a.ggy dogs. I turned my head. The mist had lifted a bit, and in the failing light I saw two figures sprawled on the front steps of the house, dark pools forming beneath them. Their jackets and breeches were shabby, their hair long and tangled, their faces pale.
Men. They were men.
”Search the house!” the captain called out. ”Find any more of the rebels that might be left inside.”
Gently, Mr. Quent turned me away.
”Do not look at them,” he said. ”You are safe now. It is over.”
I rested my cheek against his chest. Yet I had seen enough to know that neither of the dead men was Westen. Nor did I believe they would find him inside the house. I remembered the last words he spoke to me.
No matter what you do, the land will rise....
A s.h.i.+ver pa.s.sed through me. Though I admired Mr. Quent more than any man in the world, all the same I knew he was wrong. It was not over.
Night descended. As it did, a gale sprang up, tearing apart the fog, and I thought I could almost hear it: the sound of wind through bent branches and the whispering of leaves.
No, it had only just begun.
T HEY HAVE TOLD me the mail coach will arrive at the inn soon, and its stop here will be brief. I have time for only a few more lines, Father. Then, in mere hours, I will see you and my sisters! Perhaps then my heart will remember how to be glad, for at present it has forgotten that ability. When I close my eyes, I cannot picture him. I have already forgotten what he looks like!
But such thoughts are natural for a new wife, who goes into a silly panic when she cannot envision the face of her husband when he is away-and through such anxiety further a.s.sures she will not be able to do so.
There is no cause for worry. He will join us in the city soon, and I am certain you will admire him as much as I do-or rather, that you would. But of course that must be the case, for you and he were friends once, and now I understand why. That there is a man who is kinder, more judicious, or possessed of a greater sense of duty cannot be.
Yet it is that very obligation to duty that separates us. The day following the awful events I last described to you, an agent of that lord whom he serves arrived at Heathcrest. Their meeting was not long, but even as the man rode away, Mr. Quent called for Jance and told him to begin making preparations for a journey.
”But you have only just returned!” I told him after Jance was gone, clinging to him like some brainless thing. ”You cannot go away so soon.”
”You know I must,” he said, gravely but gently, and he told me what he could of what the messenger had told him: that there was a report from the far west of Torland, that it spoke of not just a single Rising but of several, and that each had been more alarming in effect than the last. However, the area was remote and spa.r.s.ely populated. The reports might be in error, but he must go investigate.
His calmness, his even temper, shamed me; I composed myself. However, while I could accept this parting, there was one thing I could not bear. ”I cannot remain here at Heathcrest,” I told him.
”No!” He took my hand and held it tight. ”No, you cannot. I have told Jance to book you pa.s.sage on the mail. It leaves tomorrow. You will return to the city and stay with your family.”
Excitement filled me, but dread as well. How I wanted to see you, Father, and Lily and Rose. And I could not stay in the house, not after what had taken place there. But Invarel was even farther away from Torland than Heathcrest.
”If Mr. Wyble will allow it,” I said at last.
”I will write to him and a.s.sure him that as soon as I return to the city I will remove you, as well as your father and sisters, from his house.”
I nodded. Mr. Wyble would be satisfied by such a letter, for it would a.s.sure our ejection from the house on Whitward Street a full half month sooner than might otherwise have been achieved under the law.
”What of Heathcrest?” I said. ”Who will care for it, now that...”
I could not continue, and he was silent. There were things that were still too terrible to speak of, though I had overheard enough the day before to know what had happened. Upon entering the house, the soldiers had found and shot a third rebel. It was not Westen. They discovered Lanna in the bas.e.m.e.nt. She had had the presence of mind to lock herself in. Now she had returned to Low Sorrel to be with her family. Her mother had already written to Mr. Quent to say she was not coming back.
While I had feared for Jance, he had been able to slip away in the fog to the village and there had met Mr. Quent the moment he arrived. That a band of soldiers had accompanied Mr. Quent on his return was a stroke of fortune; they had intended to continue on their way to Invarel. Instead, all of them had ridden to the house and had arrived in time to aid me.
However, they were too late for another.
I was not allowed to see her. That it had been a gruesome scene I knew from the look on Mr. Quent's face when he told me they had found Mrs. Darendal in his study on the second floor. I heard one of the soldiers say it looked like the work of animals.
”That's what they are-animals,” another answered him. ”b.l.o.o.d.y rebels. They should all be-” But I did not hear what he thought, for the two ceased their talk when they saw me.
”The house will be closed,” Mr. Quent said in answer to my question. ”There is no use keeping it open when there is no one to dwell here.”
So the shadows and silence would at last be left to rule here. ”What of others who might have been in league with...with the men who came here?”
”A watch has been set around all stands of Wyrdwood in the county. The rebels will not be able to pa.s.s. Should anyone try to enter or leave, they will be apprehended.”