Ziggy's Corner: This is my very first at attempting writing a fan fiction based on Sherlock Holmes; though don't get confused, this is not my first fan fiction period, as you'll find out by clicking on my author's link. After reading TheShoelessOne's second Jack Holmes fiction, and enjoying both it and her first story, I decided to take a chance and write a story of my own. To this end, I dedicate this story to you Erin, I hope you like it. Much like her own series, this story has little to do with Sherlock and Watson themselves. This story takes place a good six hundred years before either man is born, back in the 1300's. It tells the story of Sherlock's ancestor, Ryder Holmes, and Watson's ancestor, Watt Chesterson; the man who would give his future family their famous last name. This is their first case, and if you enjoy this story enough, I might be talked into writing a second story. Enjoy, and remember, review, review, review!
ZION'S TREE
It was the middle of winter as the lone man walked down the path. His hair was brown red, and glowed like bronze in the sun's light. He was husky and had a sureness about his step, though he was incredibly thin. In fact the only thing that was big about him was his ears, which looked like saucers that were attached to his head. His legs were long, and brought him ever to his destination.
From time to time he looked behind him, and held his bag he carried tight against his chest as movement caught his eye. He was wanted, and if caught had no doubt that King Edward's thugs would have him slaughtered, burnt at the stake for doing nothing more than defending his life and his faith from the zealots of Muhammad, just as his superiors and a good number of his friends had all been murdered. His shoes were pointed, lined with white fur. His light blue breeches tugged at his legs, tied by a string around his waist and his ankles. His shirt was flame colored, and both pants and shirt were made from fine fustian, a velvet like fabric, gifts from his mother. His mother, father, he could not safety visit them for a while, not without getting them in trouble with the King and or Rome.
"Excuse me, sir," a voice said, making the thirty some year old man leap, his hand reaching for his blade that was no longer attached to his hip. I forgot I got rid of it after escaping Paris. His brown eyes turned and stared at the short, aging male who was now matching him step for step. "I didn't mean to bother you sir, but do you know where I could find a place to rest?"
Ryder's eyebrows rose for a moment and he allowed himself to smile. "I do believe that there is an inn, just half an hour away from here." He forced himself not to flinch as the older man looked at his bag and back at him. "That's were I was going."
"Thank goodness I ran into you then," the older man said with a sigh. He was portly, with eyes bluer than aquamarine, and a thick mustache that matched his gray brown hair. "Everything seems to have changed since I've been away."
"How is Scotland?" Ryder asked, allowing him grin yet again. Here we go again, I just can't seem to help myself. The older man blinked and took a step back.
"How in the great wide world did you know I had come back from Scotland?" he asked.
"The way you walk," Ryder began, "indicates movements around harsh terrain, possibly near the highland areas of that country. Plus there is the dried mud on your boots. I gather you haven't had time to wash since you left Edwin's division," he gulped as the older male took a step back, hand on a blade that had not been discarded.
"Are you some kind of spy?" the older man asked.
Ryder held his free hand up and shook his head. "Just a loyal citizen of the crown, much like yourself," he explained. "I'm just a little too observant for my own good. Mother always said so anyway."
The older man continued to study him and finally his shoulders dropped in a relaxed motion. "Apologies," he said, exhaling a gust of air from his mouth. "What with the insanity of the days I've been a little on edge." He looked at Ryder and cocked his head. "Is there anything else that gave me away, or is that all?"
"You have a slight Scottish accent," Ryder suggested. "Not too much to be noticeable, which indicates that you're a proper Englishman, who has spent a lot of time in the north country."
The old man shuddered, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Speaking like a Scot? God on high, it's a good thing I was allowed to retire when I was." Ryder laughed and looked at the open distance. "Watt Chesterson," the older man said, extending his hand and arm.
Ryder took it, and although hesitantly, decided to use his own name. "Ryder Holmes."
"Holmes? Interesting name, not many people I know use it," Watt said as they continued to walk.
"It was given to my great grandfather," Ryder explained. "Our family lived on an island centered in a river for a long time, and so this name kind of stuck with us."
"'From the river island,' I see," Watt said with a nod of his head.
They continued to talk, and Ryder learned of more of Watt, of his loyalty to his country and king, and to his friends and family. He had a strong sense of justice, and had been determined to civilize the Scots, and bring them back to the crown in London.
"Sooner or later, they're going to gain their independence," Ryder said.
"How can you say that?" Watt gasped. "They're barbarians, heathens!"
"Most of them are members of the Church, just like us, correct?" the other man nodded and Ryder went on. "The Romans did everything they could to 'civilize' the Visigoths and others near Prussia, but were humbled in the end. Sooner or later we'll see our own northern neighbors gain their freedom too. I'm not saying I'm not loyal to the king, but just stating fact."
It was obvious that Watt didn't like that 'fact', but he let the issue drop. Ryder really couldn't blame him. He had truly wanted to free the Holy Land from the Muslims, but in the end he could see that was never truly going to happen. Not in their life time anyway. They continued to talk and by the time they reached the inn, Ryder had made up his mind that he was very fond of this man who was only eight years his elder, who had a keen memory, a fondness for telling stories, and his determination for justice.
"I'm very sorry, but could you just explain this to us again?" Ryder asked the raven haired, brown eyed woman, who was just a year younger than him.
The woman smiled pleasantly enough, but her eyes were full of worry and fatigue. "I'm afraid it's not the right time to stay here with us, good sirs," she said, her voice high and airy like a fairy's. She wore a brown wool surcoat that covered her arms, shoulders, and ran all the way down to her pale, bare feet.
The inn, called Zion's Inn, wasn't particularly large, but it wasn't shabby either. The walls and floors were made of strong wooden planks, there were a few dozen rugs near the fireplace for someone to lay on, a half a dozen chairs, and two dinning tables. Next to the receptionist desk were the stairs that lead to the rooms, none of them seeming to be occupied.
"Not the right time? Why ever not?" Watt asked studying the woman as she looked at the two of them. "The Scottish aren't likely to come charging over the border, there aren't many bandits around these parts, I don't believe, it is winter so people should be flocking to this inn to get out of the cold, even if its just to warm themselves by the fire, and get something to eat."
"It has nothing to do with any of the circumstances you've just pointed out sir, I assure you," the woman said with a huff. "I just don't want …," she began to say something else, but thought better of it. "I can instruct you to another inn, one closer to the village just east of here, if you'd like."
Ryder raised his eyebrows, stroking his chin and feeling his stubble as if he had just discovered it growing. "I see, well it would take us a good half an hour, perhaps more to make it to the village, if you mean the one I think you do, and unfortunately the night is coming. If there are bandits along the way, we'd be at a very dangerous disadvantage should we be attacked."
"Not to mention the freezing weather could kill us before we reached the village," Watt snapped. "What kind of inn is this, that doesn't want our business?" He pounded his fist, frightening the woman and opened his mouth to say something else, but was stopped by Ryder.
"My friend and I will leave, if you truly want us too, but I'd like to give you one last chance to accept our patronage." He smiled at her warmly and studied her eyes, watching them shift back and forth as if she was unsure what to do. What are you hiding?
Finally she shook her head back and forth, more to get the cobwebs out of her mind than anything else, and opened her mouth to speak, jumping as a harsh, bitter, grounding voice berated her from behind. "What are you doing now, girl?" It was full of vile and darkness and a tall, elderly, bald man stepped from behind the shadows and glared at the three of them, arching forward until his nose was touching the woman's. "You're not sending more visitors away, are you?"
She trembled, and looked away from him. "I just thought that …," she began, before the back of his hand caught her chin and pushed her away from the counter.
"You are my daughter, you don't think for yourself, you act for the betterment of your family, do you hear me?" he roared. He raised his arm to strike her again, but the girl dashed off behind a door and locked it tight. Then he turned to them and narrowed his eyes.
His skin was paler than her feet; it was almost as if Ryder and Watt were staring at some horrid, ghastly wraith from Hell, rather than an old man. A few blue veins struck out from his pinched face as he turned to look at the younger men, his breathe smelling like rotten fish and other such decay. "You wish to lodge here?" he snapped.
"Yes sir," Ryder said, calm and coolly. He could tell from his friend's shaking shoulders that Watt was ready to explode at this ogre's actions, but shook his head. "Two days at least."
"For the both of you?" he asked again, swaying back and forth as he arched to look at both men. "I suppose we should be able to manage that." He chuckled, sounding more like a donkey than a person, and rubbed his hands together. "The rate for two rooms for a day is one hundred and fifty shillings."
"One hundred and fifty shillings!" Watt could no longer bear being quite. "What in God's glorious name do you call that?" He was pounding his fist against the counter again and narrowed his eyes.
"A fair price," the inn keeper said with a thin, lipless smile that stretched across his face.
"I've seen larger inns that don't even come close to that kind of nonsense," the forty year old barked.
"Well then God speed you to them," the inn keeper growled.
Ryder sighed and pulled out a back of coins. "You're not really going to pay him are you?" Watt choked. "One hundred and fifty shillings a day, for two days? That's three hundred shillings, over three thousand pence!"
"I have the money, it's not necessary to worry about it," Ryder said calmly. "You don't mind if I pay for you too, if you are short, do you?"
Watt's mouth hit the ground and he blinked. Who in the world was this person he had met on the road … a noble? If that was the case, why was he traveling alone? "I can pay for half of it," he grumbled, pulling out his own purse. "I can pay you back when I next get my salary."
"Well then, everything's in order, isn't it?" Ryder asked with a very bright and pleasant smile. He handed the inn keeper, Banning was his name, the money, and the old man snatched from his hands, holding it tight against his chest and nearly wheezing with joy. The next moment he barked for his second daughter, a young teenager named Larke to come and pick up their bags, and show them to their rooms.
Larke's hair wasn't as black as her sister's was, and she was thinner than her sister, but she was also taller than her, and seemed every bit her father's girl. She seemed to prance at the sight of the money and whisked Watt's bag from his hand, jerking as Ryder snapped as she touched his also.
"Forgive me, but I like to do things my own way," he chuckled, with a blush, and held the bag tighter against his chest, shrinking as he felt the curious eyes of the girl, and the shocked eyes of his companion on him. "Really it's not that heavy and I'm not so tired that I can't carry my own belongings with me."
She looked at the bag, her lower lip pouting out as she silently bemoaned not knowing what was so special about it, and then nodded her head, escorting the men to their separate rooms, just across the hall for the each other. "Dinner is about an hour in a half from now, so I suggest you wash up and hurry down. You don't come down in time, that'd your own fault." Then she vanished as the men looked at each other.
"Delightful set of people here," Watt muttered looking at Ryder and his bag, before turning his attention to where the girl disappeared.
Ryder chuckled, thankful that his new friend's eyes were not upon his bag anymore. "Quite." They excused themselves, and closed their doors, washing up from the long weary road, and preparing themselves to eat.
They sat down at one of the two tables and watched as Banning, his two daughters, and a very tall man dressed in velvet clothes with colors as bright as the sun and brilliant like jewels, joined them. The newcomer was Sir Andrew Arthur, a knight from the southern areas of England, who claimed to serve under the king himself, and fought many different campaigns in both Scotland, and France. He was the epiphany of what it meant to be a knight, tall, powerful, nearly seven feet tall, hair as gold as a halo, and eyes as green as jade. He looked at the mark on Hayley's cheek and back at Banning with a glare that sent shivers down the old man's back.
"So, Mr. Holmes, how long have you been traveling?" Sir Andrew asked after taking a bite of salmon and downing a glass of dark wine. His eyes were attached to him, never leaving him since he had walked into the dining area, his face a mixture of shock and intrigue while they ate.
"For a while," the younger man said, avoiding his gaze as best as he could. There was something about that stare that Ryder did not enjoy in the least, apparently Watt felt the same way, as he lurched from the tall man's glare as he was introduced to him.
"Any particular reason you've been traveling for so long?" the giant man asked, biting into another piece of salmon. He smiled and blinked as the other looked at him with falling brows.
"You seem awfully interested in me, sir, may I inquire why?" Ryder took a bite of his own fish and looked
"Banning and his beautiful daughter's don't get very many guests like they used too," Andrew said, leveling him a look. "I just thought it was odd that two men such as yourselves would arrive at the same day, both needing two days worth of boarding, and could pay for it."
"You're point is?" Watt growled. The knight looked at the shorter man and back at Ryder.
"Just curious is all," Andrew said with a bright smile.
"Andrew, please, just let the poor man eat his meal," Hayley sighed, flinching as her father's hand raised up into the arm to smack her to the ground.
"There is no need for that Banning," Sir Andrew said, his voice tolerantly pleasant. The old man jerked at the sound of his voice, and inched back to his seat, peeved, but not wanting to press the issue. "She was quite right; perhaps I was just getting too curious for my own good." He turned to Ryder and smiled, "I apologize sir."
"Thank you, Sir Andrew, it is my pleasure to accept your apology," Holmes said with a relieved grin of his own. The dinner continued almost nearly to the end, without another problem, until the knight finished his dessert and stretched.
"By the way, you seem like a regal man to me, perhaps a noble? What is your position on the recent Church Council?" he leaned back against his chair and put a hand on his cheek.
Ryder would have frozen if he hadn't been so well trained, but still that name, the council. He'd been there, not at the council, but in France during the council. It was one of the darker times in the history of humanity. Anger and sadness both filled his chest, but he was determined not to show it to any of them. Does he know what I am? He smiled and pretended to have no knowledge of it.
"I'm surprised, I thought everyone had heard what the French were pulling," Andrew said, stroking his chin. He shrugged and pushed his food away. "At any rate, I should be going before it gets too dark. My regiment is probably wondering if I'll ever return." He walked up to Hayley and gave her a kiss on her hand, and then walked out."
"I think its time that we should get ready for bed too," Ryder said, swiftly rising to his own feet, ready to be away from prying eyes. He offered to help with the food, but it was declined by Banning, who quickly began placing bowls outside the house, before his daughters chastised him.
"Did you forget again?" Larke asked, her arms flopping in disgust.
"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" Watt asked, looking at the three innkeepers.
"We used to have two dogs, big ones," Hayley said, years ago. "But one night, our mother, may she rest in peace …"
"May the fates be very unkind to her as she was to us," Larke snarled making her sister gasp.
"My wife, Rose, disappeared years ago, just a day before our dogs died for some unknown reason," Banning said, tears slowly running down his cheeks.
"They were barking at the tree behind our inn," Hayley continued. "Then all of the sudden, they shrieked, and disappeared."
"Right before that, Hayley claims she was lights glowing around the tree, as if they were coming up from the ground," Larke teased, ignoring her father's baneful glare.
"There were lights coming from the tree, and from time to time, I still see them," Haley insisted. "Not only that, but I can sometimes hear the barking of our dogs when I see the lights. Once I swore I saw Mabon by the tree, but when I blinked he vanished in air."
"Girls that is enough," growled Banning, sending the young women away to do the dishes. He turned to the two men and sighed. "I am deeply sorry you had to hear that, gentlemen. Their imaginations can get the better of them I'm afraid."
"Of course," Ryder said, mentally recording everything he had heard for future use. "We're all good Christian men here, no one believes in fairy lights or elves anymore."
"True, well then, good night," the elderly man said, and they parted ways.
It was still very dark, and cold as Ryder lay in bed; eyes wide open. He had gone to the window twice in the last fifteen minutes, looking out for the source of the noises, but with the moon covered by clouds, and very little light anywhere, there was nothing but shadows to great him.
A knock on his door made him leap out of bed, his hand clutching his chest and then he frowned, embarrassed at himself for acting so childish. The thirty year old man rose to his feet, opened the door, and saw Watt standing there, looking very ghastly.
"Have you ever heard anything so horrid?" he asked, his lips trembling. "I thought it was wolves at first, but the sounds are too close to the inn, and I didn't think that there were any wolves in this area."
The constant baying and yapping near the back of the inn was growing more and more wild, and for a time, Ryder was positive that Banning would go investigate it, or at least he would have heard Hayley go out to search. But as the seconds seemed to slip by them, it became obvious that there wasn't going to be any such thing.
"They are most definitely not wolves, their not wild enough, or high enough," Ryder said. "Nor are they anymore than two of them which would also indicate that they are not wolves."
"I see why you now have such large ears, my friend," Watt said with a smile, before realizing he had insulted his new friend. "Apologies," he said under his breathe.
"No need to do that right now Watt," Holmes said. "I want to see if this tree out in the back is truly glowing, just as Hayley said."
"That is just preposterous," Watt growled as he followed the taller, younger man. "The very idea is … just so pagan."
"Normally I'd agree with you, but if no one else is going to check this out, then I would very much like to, my curiosity demands it."
"Your curiosity may get you killed one day," Watt snapped as he followed tightly on Ryder's heels.
The younger man only laughed and stroked his hair, "You have no idea how close it's gotten me to the Grim Reaper's Scythe. Still it pushes me forward to see if I can help anyone."
They reached the first floor, and raced forward and toward the back door, where Banning had been putting the dogs' dishes out to eat. Two things caught Ryder's eyes as they got to the door. The fireplace was roaring with fire, a large fire, not one out of control, but one that would allow enormous amounts of heat into the room, and the other was Banning himself.
He was cuddled up in a ball, his eyes wider than the bowls he had tried to put outside. He seemed in the troughs of death, from fright. "The spirits," he said in a harsh, tight voice, "The spirits, have brought this on us!"
"Watt, his hands," Ryder said, bending over to look.
"Yes, he's using prayer beads, a Rosary I hear it's called, a pretty new practice I've been told."
"Yes, yes, of course," Ryder said with a little agitation in his voice as he examined the poor man, looking at his white hands and then pushed him gently aside, so to open the door, and peer out into the dead of night.
"Dear God in Heaven," Watt gasped, looking at a tree that was engulfed in dancing golden light that did indeed seem to come from the ground itself. Near the tree they could hear the dreadful baying of the two dogs that had disappeared and it proved too much for Watt, who slipped back into the house and began saying his own prayers. "How in Heaven's divine name, can you explain those lights coming from the ground?" he whimpered.
"I don't know," Ryder said, urging him to help him move Banning to a small couch, and cover him with a small blanket. "But give me time, and I will."
Okay, this is the end of the first chapter. I hope I did a good job! Well on to the second chapter! I hope to have the whole story by the time I update at the last weekend of February. If not, you can expect me to update in either April or May, I don't have direct access to the Internet, and have to use my sister's connection, and coordinate both her family's and mine schedules to work. Anyway I hope you liked this, on to chapter two!