Friday, August 24, 2007
Chapter 1, Part 1 of 4
He killed them, it was all his fault, they were dead because of him. This mantra keep ringing through his head as he carefully slipped out the tall narrow window onto the slippery ledge. The cold stone swiftly chilled his bare feet. His back pressed firmly against the wall, he paused a moment to catch his breath. The stone courtyard below was shrouded in darkness. It would be so easy to just let go of his tenuous hold on this ledge and plummet down to the courtyard below. He could end it all right here, right now. Something inside him whispered darkly encouraging thoughts but he resisted them. He must serve out his penance and not simply take the easy way out. He tried to push the seductive tune out of his mind and focus but he could always hear it faintly singing out its siren tune. The strong wind tugged urgently at his legs startling him into motion. He started moving gingerly along the narrow ledge. With the ease of practice, he stepped around the corner out of the wind’s grasp. The wind was whipping the clouds into a thick angry mass, blotting out the silver sliver of moon. The air was heavy with the expectation of rain causing him to move far more quickly on the moss streaked ledge then he would have liked. This time was for real, not some childish prank to be played on the palace guards.
His questing hand searched along the wall for the stone water pipe. After several more steps, his fingers knocked painfully into the pipe. The pipe jutted out from the smooth expanse of wall like an ugly tumor. Grasping the pipe firmly in one hand, Nathan carefully reached around and grasped the pipe with both hands. Moving his weight to his hands, he swung around until his feet were planted on either side of the pipe. Reaching hand under hand, he started to walk down the wall while firmly grasping the pipe.
The rain started to drum down out of the angry sky beating at his head and hands. He tried to quicken his pace but the rain slicked walls caused him to slip dangerously loosing his balance. As he slide down the pipe, the sweet seductive tune of death reared its ugly head. Calling him, urging him, singing to him to come join the other side. He slid painfully down the water pipe and crashed hard into the unforgiving stone of the courtyard. The jarring collision with the unyielding stone brought him painfully back to reality and broke the songs seductive call. With throbbing hands and a sore backside, he pulled himself painfully to his feet and scurried along the courtyard’s edge keeping to the deep shadows. The rain making him even more invisible.
Soaked and chilled, he peered into a side window into the stables. In the dim glow of the two flickering lanterns, he could not see anyone moving around. Gingerly opening the side door, he ducked into the stables, the warm moist air enveloped him as he hurried past the stalls of sleeping horses. Glancing around and seeing no one, he quickly scaled the ladder into the hayloft. Moving carefully over the piles of baled hay, he scrabbled over to the far dark corner. The lantern light barely penetrated into the dark reaches of the hayloft. Pushing his arm down between the wall and the hay bale, he grasped the loop of rope hanging from a nail. Pulling the rope up rewarded him with two bulging saddlebags, a heavy black oil cloth sack and a pair of tall black riding boots. Pulling off his soaked clothes, he spread open the oil cloth bag, transforming it into a large cloak with a small shuttered lantern, a smaller oil cloth bag and a pile of traveling clothes sitting in the middle. With brisk efficiency, he dressed himself. He pulled on the riding boots with a little difficulty given the tight space afforded by the hay loft then pulled the cloak on. He stuffed his wet clothes into the smaller oil cloth bag then grabbed both saddle bags and clothes bag.
Peering back down into the stable, he made his way back down and entered the tackle room. From one of the glowing lanterns, he lit a sliver of wood then opened the shutter of his lantern. Lighting the small lantern, he quickly adjusted the flame to burn low and dim then closed the shutter. Reaching for his tackle, he paused then grabbed some plain utility tackle from the side room. He entered the stall of a large black horse and quickly saddled him up then secured the saddlebags and oil clothe sack. He then hooked the still shuttered lantern on to the horn of the saddle. Bending down, he put leather shoes over the horse’s hooves. The horse sleepily nibbled on his cloak looking for the hidden sugar cubes. Easing the stall door open, he quietly urged the lethargic horse out of the stall and out of the stables. The horse snorted his displeasure at the cold penetrating rain. Mounting the horse, he spread his cloak over as much of the horse as it would cover.
The horse moved forward with muffled steps barely heard over the rain. Once out of the courtyard, they made for the small gate located behind the kitchens. Dismounting before the gate, he unlatched the gate and with bunched muscles he jerked it open as fast as he could. The loud screech shattered the dull hiss of the rain but lasted only a second. Bending down, he pulled the horse through then jerked the gate closed behind him. Mounting the now fully awake horse, he urged the cranky horse into a gentle gallop to the woods edge. There he removed the leather shoes from the horse, then remounted. Opening the shutter on the lantern, the small flame, magnified but several polished metal pieces cast a faint ray of light onto the glistening mane of the horse. Holding the horse down to a maintainable pace, he followed the well-packed road south.
With only one path to follow, the man was left alone with his downward swirling dark thoughts. The dark song started to rear its maddeningly seductive head but before it could build to full force, it was pushed out by the vivid recollection of the nightmare deaths of everyone including his wife, unborn child and older brother. His wife and unborn child were dead because of him. His brother was dead because of him. On and on he spiraled, the screams growing louder. He sought solace in the nightmare as it keep the siren song at bay. It was his penance for living while they died.
His questing hand searched along the wall for the stone water pipe. After several more steps, his fingers knocked painfully into the pipe. The pipe jutted out from the smooth expanse of wall like an ugly tumor. Grasping the pipe firmly in one hand, Nathan carefully reached around and grasped the pipe with both hands. Moving his weight to his hands, he swung around until his feet were planted on either side of the pipe. Reaching hand under hand, he started to walk down the wall while firmly grasping the pipe.
The rain started to drum down out of the angry sky beating at his head and hands. He tried to quicken his pace but the rain slicked walls caused him to slip dangerously loosing his balance. As he slide down the pipe, the sweet seductive tune of death reared its ugly head. Calling him, urging him, singing to him to come join the other side. He slid painfully down the water pipe and crashed hard into the unforgiving stone of the courtyard. The jarring collision with the unyielding stone brought him painfully back to reality and broke the songs seductive call. With throbbing hands and a sore backside, he pulled himself painfully to his feet and scurried along the courtyard’s edge keeping to the deep shadows. The rain making him even more invisible.
Soaked and chilled, he peered into a side window into the stables. In the dim glow of the two flickering lanterns, he could not see anyone moving around. Gingerly opening the side door, he ducked into the stables, the warm moist air enveloped him as he hurried past the stalls of sleeping horses. Glancing around and seeing no one, he quickly scaled the ladder into the hayloft. Moving carefully over the piles of baled hay, he scrabbled over to the far dark corner. The lantern light barely penetrated into the dark reaches of the hayloft. Pushing his arm down between the wall and the hay bale, he grasped the loop of rope hanging from a nail. Pulling the rope up rewarded him with two bulging saddlebags, a heavy black oil cloth sack and a pair of tall black riding boots. Pulling off his soaked clothes, he spread open the oil cloth bag, transforming it into a large cloak with a small shuttered lantern, a smaller oil cloth bag and a pile of traveling clothes sitting in the middle. With brisk efficiency, he dressed himself. He pulled on the riding boots with a little difficulty given the tight space afforded by the hay loft then pulled the cloak on. He stuffed his wet clothes into the smaller oil cloth bag then grabbed both saddle bags and clothes bag.
Peering back down into the stable, he made his way back down and entered the tackle room. From one of the glowing lanterns, he lit a sliver of wood then opened the shutter of his lantern. Lighting the small lantern, he quickly adjusted the flame to burn low and dim then closed the shutter. Reaching for his tackle, he paused then grabbed some plain utility tackle from the side room. He entered the stall of a large black horse and quickly saddled him up then secured the saddlebags and oil clothe sack. He then hooked the still shuttered lantern on to the horn of the saddle. Bending down, he put leather shoes over the horse’s hooves. The horse sleepily nibbled on his cloak looking for the hidden sugar cubes. Easing the stall door open, he quietly urged the lethargic horse out of the stall and out of the stables. The horse snorted his displeasure at the cold penetrating rain. Mounting the horse, he spread his cloak over as much of the horse as it would cover.
The horse moved forward with muffled steps barely heard over the rain. Once out of the courtyard, they made for the small gate located behind the kitchens. Dismounting before the gate, he unlatched the gate and with bunched muscles he jerked it open as fast as he could. The loud screech shattered the dull hiss of the rain but lasted only a second. Bending down, he pulled the horse through then jerked the gate closed behind him. Mounting the now fully awake horse, he urged the cranky horse into a gentle gallop to the woods edge. There he removed the leather shoes from the horse, then remounted. Opening the shutter on the lantern, the small flame, magnified but several polished metal pieces cast a faint ray of light onto the glistening mane of the horse. Holding the horse down to a maintainable pace, he followed the well-packed road south.
With only one path to follow, the man was left alone with his downward swirling dark thoughts. The dark song started to rear its maddeningly seductive head but before it could build to full force, it was pushed out by the vivid recollection of the nightmare deaths of everyone including his wife, unborn child and older brother. His wife and unborn child were dead because of him. His brother was dead because of him. On and on he spiraled, the screams growing louder. He sought solace in the nightmare as it keep the siren song at bay. It was his penance for living while they died.
# posted by Canadian Loonie @ 7:05 AM 
