Authors: Claire Cray
That day I worked
with unusual fervor, desperate to keep my head quiet. I finished everything
before late afternoon, and then I did some more. I tidied the lean-to, dusted
every inch of the cottage, and washed the stone steps outside. I beat the rugs,
aired the quilt, fluffed the pillows, straightened the books, and polished the
table.
By evening the
place was sparkling, and I had settled at the table with the book on Indians.
I’d become absorbed in a series of accounts on tree devils, mysterious spirits
who lived to trick and taunt travelers who wandered too deep into the woods,
and I was so lost in the stories that when Merrick entered my field of vision,
I jumped.
He was still in
his robe, and I imagined him staring at me from behind his hood for my
reaction. After a moment, he sat across from me at the table.
“Have you eaten?”
he asked, folding his hands loosely in front of him.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Shall I get you anything, sir?”
Merrick shook his
head and then pushed back his hood. He said nothing, studying my face with his
penetrating eyes.
I cleared my
throat. I was used to him being quiet, but it was different when I could see
his gaze fixed on me like that. Without the hood, I had to wonder what he was
thinking. Although his tone was as patient and pleasant as ever, his expression
could be very difficult to read.
“I have been
indoors too long,” he said, just as I was about to mention what I’d read during
the day, and he rose from the bench. “I would like to take a walk.”
I nodded. “It’s a
fine, clear evening.”
The veil and hood
were drawn over his face again. “Will you join me?”
“Certainly, sir.”
I rose after him and fetched my jacket from the hook near the door as we left.
Merrick led me
along the road in silence, and then veered through the meadow where I’d
gathered dandelions and into the forest at its borders. As the canopy of trees
cut off the already faint moonlight, I realized stupidly that we carried no
light.
“Ah, forgive me, sir,”
I said. “I did not think to take a lantern.”
Merrick slowed and
turned slightly, lifting an arm to lightly touch my back. “Is it difficult for
you to see?”
I peered ahead.
The forest was just sparse enough to allow for easy walking, even though there seemed
to be no well-made path. “I can manage well enough, sir.”
He kept his hand
lightly to the small of my back as we walked on, as though worried I might
stumble. After a spell he remarked, “I know these woods intimately. You must
not attempt to wander like this alone, however. Be it day or night.”
“I don’t suppose
I’d be inclined to, sir,” I said, then recalled with chagrin how I’d said the
same thing about ingesting unfamiliar herbs. To support my claim a little
better, I added, “Particularly after some of the reading I did today.”
“What might that
have been?”
“The tree devils.”
He laughed softly.
After a moment, he asked me to describe what I’d read.
“Well.” I cleared
my throat. “They’re an ancient tribe of Indian spirits, tall and slim and
handsome, and they disguise themselves as saplings. They live in the deep
woods, and they run very fast. You can catch them moving at the edge of your
vision sometimes.” I looked up at the leaves, trying to discern their shadows
from the sky. “A tree devil might toy with a lost traveler, leading him deeper
into the woods with false trails and strange sounds. Once that happens, the
traveler will never return. The devils might also steal children, or even young
women.”
“Do you find that
frightening?”
The trees seemed
to thin out ahead. I had begun to hear the strange sound of frogs, and I was
catching larger and larger glimpses of the black sky between the dense, low
foliage and the forest canopy.
“I might,” I
confessed. “Say, if I were out here alone, and I heard any strange sound at
all. Then again,” I laughed, “All sounds are strange to me, out here. Even my
own feet snapping twigs as I walk is likely to startle me…”
My attention
turned to the view that opened up before us. We approached an open space I
first had trouble making sense of in the dark. Then I saw that it was a marsh,
half covered in tall grass painted pewter by the half-moon and swaying in the
scant breeze. Ink-black swaths of water marbled the landscape, reflecting the
stars. The forest trimmed the marsh all along its edge, rising up beyond in
gentle hills. It was a peaceful scene, pleasantly eerie, and the chorus of
frogs and crickets was more musical than I would have imagined.
We had stopped
before the marsh’s edge, still sheltered by the trees. The earth we stood on
ended abruptly several feet ahead, dropping off at the edge of the still water.
“It is good to
hear you laugh, William.”
I looked at him,
surprised.
“I am sorry these
circumstances are difficult for you.”
Words failed me,
for the circumstances had only been truly difficult in one incredibly
unexpected way, and I was fairly sure that was not what he meant.
When I said
nothing, he continued. “You must feel you have suffered a great injustice. You
are no criminal. And yet you have been bound to servitude, confined to a dark
cottage removed from everything you have ever known, taken from your work and
isolated from your friends and peers.”
Uncertain of what
to say, I stared helplessly out at the marsh. At first, what he said sounded
absurd, for I was in no such dire straits. But then I realized it was true! I
was
a bound servant. Beyond Merrick’s watch, I had the same basic rights as a
slave. Why did I never seem to think of that? How was it that I never burned at
the thought that I was not allowed to return to the city if I wished? Did it
not bother me that my Fate lay in another’s hands? Why was I not filled with
bitterness and despair knowing that I was obligated to serve and please
Merrick?
The Wall creaked.
I realized warily that it was starting to feel more like a floodgate.
“When I asked the
court for an apprentice,” Merrick said, “I did not know that I would be
complicit in the unjust treatment of an innocent.”
“W-well,” I said
awkwardly. “I
was
quite drunk and disorderly…”
“That charge is
not worth a young man’s life.”
But it’s only
five years,
I protested in my mind. After a startled pause I tried to throw
that thought behind the Wall, but it didn’t quite go. Apparently, it didn’t
work like that. Damned metaphors!
Merrick reached up
and pushed his hood back, surprising me. He looked out over the marsh with an
expression that was at once distant and intent. Then he turned to me.
“What luminous
eyes you have, sir,” I whispered without thinking, and was too wrapped up in
the fact of it to be embarrassed. Just as before, his eyes seemed to draw in
every scant surrounding trace of light to feed their golden hue. But here, in
the dark, they
really
seemed to glow from within.
He turned fully
towards me and then slowly stepped forward.
I stood frozen, my
mind swept clear for a moment as his handsome face dominated my vision. With
the first thought that returned, I wondered if he would kiss me again. My heart
thumped when he stopped before me and slowly reached up to gently slip his hand
around the back of my neck.
“Do you want to go
back to the city?” he asked quietly.
“The…” Those eyes!
“The city, sir?” They were extraordinary. A sparkling ring of copper ran
through the amber iris, shimmering like the golden rays of a sunrise more
beautiful than any real sunrise ever was.
“I resolved your
mother’s situation some weeks past. The courts have forgotten her. She is
immune to any form of rebuke regardless of how your story proceeds.” His eyes
traveled over my face, then returned to mine before he continued softly. “If
you would like me to end your servitude and set you free, I will do so.”
His words hit me
like a crack of thunder.
Under his steady
gaze, I could not remain silent. I took a breath, confounded. “I…I thank you,
sir...” Hearing my mother was free of my predicament lifted a heavy weight from
my mind. And he was offering me my own freedom! But…
But,
what
?
What in God’s name
did I want to say?
He spoke before I
could try. “Then I will make the arrangements.”
My eyes widened. I
had not meant… Had I?
“And I hope you do
not feel this experience has set you back significantly.”
“No,” I heard
myself whisper even as he finished. I shook my head, speechless, and then
repeated with bewildered emphasis, “
No
.”
“I am much
relieved,” he said quietly. His fingers played gently at the nape of my neck,
twining in the ends of my hair. He leaned closer then, slowly bringing his face
to within a few inches from mine. His index finger trailed down the side of my
throat.
A strange feeling
of urgency was swelling inside of me. I turned my head upwards slightly,
aligning my features with his. I felt I must say something, and so I reached
for first clear thought in my mind. “Do you not think of drinking my blood,
sir?”
“I ache for it,
William,” he whispered, and traced my vein again.
My heart pounded
in my chest. “Would it kill me?”
He shook his head
slowly, his thumb now stroking my lower lip. He was gazing at my mouth as
though fascinated. “But it would affect you,” he said quietly.
I was fascinated
in turn. “How, sir?”
“Do not follow
your curiosity here,” he murmured.
“I can hardly
control it.”
He looked back to
my eyes with a strange expression. “Am I correct in thinking that you would
allow me to drink your blood, William, out of curiosity?”
I felt every pounding
beat of my heart within my ribs.
Curiosity?
No. It was not merely
curiosity I felt. It was something I dared not name – perhaps
could not
name.
“Does that not
seem very foolish?” Merrick asked.
I shook my head
stupidly.
There was a faint
crease in his lovely brow. He parted his lips to speak and then closed them.
Finally he asked, in a tone of hopeless astonishment, “Why are you so open to
me?”
I tore my eyes
from his, looking down at the few inches of ground between us, and let out a
quiet breath. “Certainly I am not the only one, sir.” I closed my eyes when I
felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. My hands twitched, longing to
reach for him.
“I will arrange
for a coach tomorrow. You will depart the next day.”
Something twisted
in my gut and I opened my eyes, blinking at the ground. My throat worked for a
moment before I said, “Sir, I don’t know that the court will…”
“I have more than
enough influence with the court.” His voice had turned strangely flat. “I will
compensate you for your work.”
“I cannot...”
Bewildered, I shook my head. “I cannot accept that.” I was not merely
bewildered by the generosity of his offer, but by the entire conversation,
which seemed to be racing ahead of me.
Merrick was still
stroking my neck. Then, abruptly, he released me and stepped back. “Let’s
return.”
I watched him
cover his face again, despairing in my confusion. My feet felt like lead as I
followed him.
After several
minutes, he stopped and turned back to me. “William?”
I realized I was
no longer moving. As I stared at the indistinct, dark shape of him ahead of me,
that damned Wall was doing me no good at all. My mind and soul were storming.
My voice sounded
thin and uncertain in the dark of the forest. “Have I seemed unhappy, sir?”
Merrick was
silent. After a moment, he pushed his hood back again. His golden eyes shined
brightly in the blue and gray darkness, and they were fixed on me. “You are
young,” he said at length. “And full of life. You should be back in the city
with your friends.”
“I’ve said nothing
like that,” I protested. I was protesting. I was arguing with him. I was
arguing against my own freedom! “What do you mean by sending me back? Aren’t
you afraid I might reveal your secret?”
“That is not in
your character.”
“But I…have I
displeased you? Is it because I…because I behaved so…”
“No, William,” he
interrupted, and approached me slowly, stopping just a few feet away. “But I
cannot uphold your sentence. Go back to the city and carry on with your
business. You have a fine life ahead of you, and I will not see five years of
your youth squandered in servitude.”
The inarguable
practicality of it tightened around my throat like a noose.
Merrick was giving
me a chance to reverse this entire catastrophe and put me back in the city while
my business contacts and partners were still fresh. With a bit of money in my
pocket I would be back on my feet quickly enough.
Was I trying to
refuse such a miraculous opportunity for the sake of this strange and sudden
desire? Was I thinking of committing the next five years of my life to this
cottage, these woods, this mysterious creature who treated me kindly and taught
me of nature and kept me in peace and comfort while he drank men’s blood at
night?
“Come,” he said
quietly, and waited for me to start walking before he turned ahead and led me
back towards the cottage.
So that was it,
then. The strange tale was drawing to an end.
I would return to
my life in the city. I would never see Merrick again.
I would be free of
these godforsaken feelings that had pulled at me constantly all these weeks.
At the cottage,
Merrick put his hand between my shoulders and guided me towards the lean-to,
where he removed his robe and then his shirt.