Chapter 10 – The Request
Erik heard a dull thud at his door, startling him from a light sleep. Opening his eyes and turning his head on the pillow, he concentrated on the muffled sounds coming from behind the closed door. Blinking away the groggy feeling draping over him, he prepared himself for yet another violation of his privacy. Scraping sounds preceded a man's voice muttering something his ears could not discern while he resigned himself to his position of being in the reluctant care of others. Struggling toward a sitting position, he gripped his leg in an effort to push away the pain, smiling at the irony of his situation. Thus reminded of why he needed their help, he lifted a hand and covered the right side of his face.
"Come in," he called out just as the door was kicked open. His eyes shot to those of the young man standing there. His brows lifted in apologetic surprise before he shifted his attention back to the strange looking chair he gripped between his hands. Erik watched in stunned silence while he executed a few tight maneuvers and then both he and the chair shoved their way into his room. He looked up into the relieved expression of the younger man as he planted his hands on his hips.
"I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Ben," he stated with a grin. "Time to get you ready for your appointment with Pieter."
His voice sounded strangely familiar, but Erik was too stunned to answer. Diverting his attention to the chair, he studied its strange construction. It had wheels like a bicycle, but there were two smaller ones in front. The upholstered seat was finely woven in rich, expensive looking fabric.
"What is that?" he said in a hoarse voice, meeting Ben's waiting gaze.
"Your means of escape," he quipped, pushing it closer with a conspiratorial smile. "Want a ride?"
Erik took only a moment to weigh Ben's hopeful expression against the long flight of stairs he knew must lead down to the exit."In that?"
Ben shrugged his shoulders. "How else are you going to get about? You're not ready for crutches yet."
Erik leaned his head back against the upraised pillows with a sigh. "I doubt I'm ready for that thing, either."
"Would you rather be carried out on a stretcher?"
Erik pursed his lips. "No."
"Don't worry--I'll help you into it, once we get you dressed," Ben smiled, pushing the chair in a small circle for him to examine.
"Look," he announced, reaching down to lift what looked like a foot rest. "It even has a way to hold your leg up."
"Wonderful."
Ben frowned. "Come on—don't you want to get out of here?"
Erik glanced toward the window, thinking of how rare a treat it would be to venture out into the light of day. The sky beyond his window was deep blue, with a few scattered white clouds drifting by. Whereas he would never have considered it before, he realized that things seemed to be different here, and people more accepting of his deformity. He looked into Ben's excited gaze and nodded.
"Why not," he sighed. "It appears I have nothing else on my agenda."
Ben stepped closer and reached for a familiar looking vial. "On the contrary, you have a very full day ahead of you, and it's all outside this room. But first--" he uncorked it and reached for a spoon. "Some weaponry for the battle?"
"All right, but I would rather wean myself from depending on that."
Ben measured out the dose into a small glass. "You can discuss that with Dr. Arnand tomorrow." Realizing Ben must have helped care for him, Erik dropped his hand away from his face, though he kept his head turned away just enough to prevent Ben from staring at it.
"Has it already been a week?" he objected, reaching for the glass and downing its contents. He winced at the taste. "I seem to have lost track of the days."
"It has," Ben answered, taking the glass from him. He turned to the wheeled chair with sudden haste. "I almost forgot," he apologized, pulling out a familiar looking leather bag. "With all the excitement this seems to have been overlooked."
"I had forgotten all about it," Erik answered, deciding against telling him that he had never planned on taking it with him.
"No one has gone through it except Meg—" Ben explained, handing it to him. "She dried everything out and Arlene laundered all your clothes, which are now hanging in that wardrobe. And now, it finally makes its way back to you."
Erik looked up. "Arlene?"
"Pieter's wife," Ben explained, moving toward the wardrobe. "Haven't you met her?"
Erik shook his head, watching Ben open the doors to reveal a neat row of clothing hanging there, recognizing it as his. He was struck quite suddenly with an intense desire to get dressed and out of this room. "I didn't know Pieter had a wife," he said carefully.
Ben chuckled and turned to select a pair of dark brown trousers. "You really do need to get out."
Resolved to accomplish that goal, Erik threw back the bedcovers and eased his hands beneath the heavy wrapping encasing his leg. Gritting his teeth, he slowly moved it to the edge of the bed, shifting his heel to the pillow sitting atop the ottoman which had thankfully be left at the side of his bed. Breaking out in a sweat, Erik panted and rested from his efforts as Ben laid out his clothing on the bed.
"We had to alter one leg to accommodate the bandages," he informed Erik as he bent to ease it over his foot. "It can be re-sewn later."
Erik gripped the edge of the mattress as he attempted to hold up his injured leg. "I am hardly accustomed to having a personal valet."
Ben laughed. "Enjoy it while you can--the stitches will probably be removed tomorrow," he said, easing the other pantleg over his good foot.
"Then I graduate to crutches?"
"Of course, but even better--you'll be able to have a full bath," Ben said, shifting his arm behind Erik's back as he helped him to stand. Once the trousers were pulled up he left Erik to fasten the waistband and turned to pour water into the washbasin. "By the way, can you swim?"
"Yes," he replied, tossing his nightshirt aside and taking the soaped washcloth handed to him. "Why?" he added, washing under his arms and finding the prospect of a full bath inordinately tempting.
"We have a lake here, fed by warm springs," Ben told him. "Swimming will help you recover the use of your leg much sooner."
Erik finished washing his chest and neck. "I look forward to it."
Ben threw him a towel and began to mix the shaving soap Meg must have packed for him. "Did she tell you about me?" he asked Erik casually.
He did remember her mentioning a brother. "She did, but I haven't a clear recollection of the journey here."
"Oh, make sure you read the note in your bag," Ben said suddenly. "She found it and was able to dry it out without opening it--it's in the inside pocket."
Erik glanced suspiciously at the bag. "What kind of note?"
Ben tapped the brush as he mixed the cream. "I have no idea, but it looks like Louise's handwriting."
Erik tossed the washcloth back into the basin and bent to his bag. Flipping it open, he pulled out a wrinkled envelope, immediately recognizing the handwriting. Alarm shot through him but he tucked it into his pants pocket as Ben turned with his razor and shaving mug in hand, his gaze expectant.
"I'll read it later," Erik explained, reaching for the razor.
After shaving himself and enduring an arduous effort of pulling on his boots, Erik eased into the chair feeling exhausted. He watched as Ben carefully settled his leg onto the elevated foot rest, feeling like throwing something he was so frustrated. By the time he was turned to face the door he finally relaxed his grip on the arms of the chair.
"Don't worry, you're managing well enough," Ben told him as he maneuvered the front of the chair through the threshold. "Of the few patients I've seen in your condition, you are by far the best behaved."
Erik bit back a shout of laughter. "Best behaved?" he exclaimed, craning his head to look up at Ben. "That is one title I've never earned in my entire life!"
Ben only nodded, intent on maneuvering the chair out into the hall. Once they were through, he retook his position behind Erik and began to roll him down the corridor.
"Shouldn't I be managing this myself?" Erik asked, his eyes scanning the lavishly decorated hallway with interest.
"Not yet--have patience, Erik."
"I barely know what that is," he snorted back.
"I remember taking care of someone who was so enraged that he threw a chamber pot at me."
Erik winced. "I hope it was empty."
Ben laughed. "Thankfully, it was--I was blessed to be so spared."
They circled downward along a wide ramp that led to different floors, and Erik found his attention captured by the oddly constructed building. There were three floors with hallways opening off each. Beyond them he could see at rooms down each corridor, yet the building seemed empty and silent. It was obviously an infirmary of some sort, yet it appeared that he was the only patient.
"What is this place?" he thought aloud.
"A hospital--but you knew that."
Erik shook his head. "I had thought I was in someone's home."
"You don't remember arriving here, do you?"
"No--if this is a hospital, where are the other patients?"
"You are the only one in the building," Ben said after a moment, and Erik didn't press him for details. They had reached the ground floor where a set of double doors stood open. He watched Ben push a lever at his feet before he left his side. Going to a bench by the door, he lifted the upholstered seat and removed a folded blanket.
"Are you only helping me because of Meg?"
Ben came back toward him and began to unfold the blanket. "In a way, yes, though it is part of my job as a physician in training."
Erik stared at him a moment. "A physician? I thought you were just helping out."
Ben chuckled good naturedly. "Do I appear that inept?"
"Hardly--you seem quite capable," Erik stated, allowing him to tuck the blanket around his legs against the stiff, cold breeze which gusted in through the open doors. "I assumed that because this was a parish, you were a cleric or priest."
Ben laughed heartily and straightened from removing the brake. "Not exactly," he replied, moving behind him once again. "Now sit back and enjoy the tour."
They descended a small ramp to meet a well worn path, stung by the crispness of fresh, springlike air. Blinking in the bright sunlight, he found himself wheeled speedily along a shrub lined path. Gazing up at the sky and over arching trees, Erik felt something drape over his shoulders and grasped it close as he drank in their surroundings. Far overhead small white clouds floated lazily across an incredibly blue sky. Birds chirped and darted among the flowering shrubs whose newly opening blossoms emitted a faint fragrance he could not identify. Having been confined in the city for many years, he felt overwhelmed by the natural beauty of this place.
Unaware of his reaction, Ben pointed out different landmarks along their route as they passed well maintained buildings. Erik kept his face averted, afraid that someone would see him. He had no idea how long a journey they faced before reaching Pieter.
"That's the laundry on your left, across from it is the carpentry shop. And next is, of course, the bakery," Ben's voice breathed in anticipation. The fragrance of baking bread drifted toward them, and as they passed by, sweeter scents mixed together with it, making Erik's mouth water. He thought of Timmy working there and realized that several days had passed and he had not seen him. In fact, whereas being alone had always been his normal state of affairs, he found that he missed him, Pieter and Meg. His meals had been delivered by an older woman who only gestured but said nothing. An older man had seen to his toilette and other needs, also remaining strangely silent. His only companion had been the well worn copy of Holy Scripture which oddly enough drew him with an astounding hunger to learn more of its content. Just the previous night he had completed the entire book and gone back to the section Pieter had read to him. The one that had matched his vision and now only seemed to ignite his hunger to learn more.
"They are baking something special, by the scent of it," Ben commented as they swept past the long, low building.
"Does Timmy work there?" Erik asked distractedly, for he was rolling past lanes of small stucco homes.
"Usually, but he just became a father once again, so he's home helping with the older children."
Erik glanced up at him. "Timmy has a family?"
Ben nodded. "A wife and three children—a boy of 10 years, a six-year-old girl and a baby girl I helped deliver two nights ago."
Timmy a father? He was so much like a child himself, Erik thought, wondering if he would ever meet his family.
"They live at the end of that lane," Ben told him.
Erik studied the neat little houses with sudden interest, finding each brightly painted and decorated with newly awakening gardens. Some had flowering trees in their well kept yards, and as they approached a larger home he saw two small children run out a side door, squealing with delight. He eyes were drawn to them and an unexpected yearning rose within his soul. What would it be like to have his own home, or even more impossibly, his own family. Frowning, he forced the thoughts from his mind and concentrated on Ben's description of the carriage shop, reminding himself that he had to leave here as soon as he was able.
"Pieter, as you will see, lives next to the church; he will be waiting with breakfast for you in his office there."
"Where do you live?"
"Over the library, when I'm not staying at the infirmary."
Erik's eyes followed the wave of Ben's hand toward the direction of which he spoke. "There is a library here?"
"Yes, a very large one and filling up with new volumes every week or so--off to the right are the stables: I think your horse is out already."
Prince. Erik shifted his attention to the dozen or so horses gathered in the distance beneath a huge oak tree. Beyond the wooden fence he could see them grazing slowly along the edge of the forest. Then his eyes caught a familiar sight, and he smiled in recognition. Prince's coat was so shiny it caught the sunlight, and Erik longed to take him for a ride beneath the blossom laden trees, down the winding road and out toward the distant foothills he could see rising up along the horizon.
"Isaac is the stable master," Ben continued. "You probably don't remember him, but he helped carry you in the night you and Meg arrived...we still tease her about how she managed to hold you up for so long."
Where was Meg?
"Once you get up and about, Isaac will help you relearn how to mount and dismount, and you can take him out for exercise."
They turned a wide circle and the other side of the parish came into view, its buildings surprisingly large and elegant in design. Who built this place? he wondered. And why would a hospital be here, in such remote surroundings?
"That is the church, of course, and the school is attached, there on our left," Ben announced as they drew near. The entrance consisted of two wide double doors, both carved with intricate designs of flowers and birds. "Only one step up," Ben said encouragingly, coming to a halt at the foot of an expansive covered boardwalk that ran the length of the building, ending at the far corner of the adjacent school building. It had many wide windows along its face, was painted pale green and boasted rows and rows of garden plants along its front face.
"What kind of school?" Erik asked as Ben lowered the footrest and turned his chair around. He gripped the arms and tensed at the pain shooting up his leg, despite the medication he had taken earlier.
"Hang on until I hoist you up," he was ordered. To his surprise, the chair tilted backward and he found himself leveled onto the planking of the floor.
"Primary grades, after which Pieter and Arlene divide up the children for classes in this building," Ben breathed, turning him to face the double doors. "Meg helps tutor and teaches children's ballet classes whenever she visits."
So Meg was a teacher... Intrigued, Erik wondered what she would be like out from beneath her mother's critical eye. He had only caught a glimpse of it on the way here, and when she had visited his room. Suddenly, he realized he wanted to see more.
Ben propped both doors open and wheeled him into a brightly lit foyer before stooping to apply the brake lever. He stood before Erik, hands on his hips.
"I have to get back--wait here and someone should be out to meet you."
Erik thanked him as he scanned the interior of the church foyer, his eyes drawn to the massive window of colored glass before him. Hearing Ben's retreating footsteps as if in a dream, his attention was captured by what he saw in the window's design. The scenes depicted in the patchwork of colored glass were remarkably similar to those in his dreams, when he lay fighting for his life. Astonished, his gaze traveled along the same the crystal river and flowers lining its banks, swept upward to marvel at the rainbow colors that were so familiar. The only thing missing was--
"Good morning—" a woman's voice called, tearing his attention from the window. He saw an older woman coming toward him, tall and thin, her long graying hair sweeping down the side of her royal purple dress. His hand shot up to cover his cheek as he rested his elbow on the arm of the chair. This must be Pieter's wife, he guessed, for she looked closer to his age. And her expression bore the same light and peace as Pieter's had.
"I'm Arlene," she said, stopping at his right side and extending her hand. Her eyes smiled down at him as she waited, forcing him to lower his hand in order to clasp hers. And when he did, her face beamed with quiet joy. "You look much healthier than the last time I saw you, Erik."
He swallowed, loosening his hand as hers tightened. "Madame--"
"Please, call me Arlene," she chuckled, her voice young and feminine. "Such titles make me feel so old--how is your leg?"
He felt her finally release his hand, but her eyes held his. "Recovering, I think," he answered, his gaze drawn back to the window. Suddenly it occurred to him she might think him rude, but before he could look back she gasped in surprise.
"You like my window!" she said happily, gripping his arm.
He looked up, held her dancing eyes and nodded. "Very much...I feel as though I have been there."
She released his arm to clap her hands once. "You are not the first person to say so!" she said excitedly.
As he looked at her in surprise Pieter came around the corner. "Erik! You are early," he said, coming toward them. "I see you've met my wife."
He went to her side and put his arm around her shoulders. Erik watched in fascination as she looked up at him, resting her hand on his chest. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Erik looked back to the window.
"I was just admiring her window," he told Pieter. "It is quite beautiful."
"It is a true masterpiece," Pieter agreed, pulling his arm from his wife. "I'm not quite ready to meet--would you mind waiting in my office? It should not be much longer."
"Not at all," Erik answered, feeling awkward when Pieter came behind him and turned his chair toward another set of open doors.
"I will bring in some coffee," Arlene replied, glancing at her husband. "Luncheon will be served promptly at noon," she announced, looking meaningfully at Erik. "And Meg will be joining us."
Sensing that they were waiting for some kind of reaction from him, Erik nodded curtly, not wishing for them to detect his eagerness to see Meg again. After a moment Arlene smiled up at Pieter as she patted Erik's shoulder and dismissed herself. Pieter crossed his arms and stood standing over him. I have to leave here, he reminded himself, as soon as I can ride.
"Well, you certainly have a beautiful day for your first venture out," Pieter stated purposefully, moving around behind him to grip the handles of his chair. To his dismay, Erik found himself quickly propelled into a large room before he could place his hands on the wheels and attempt to move himself. "You can wait here, in my office," he was told as he was pushed up to an enormous desk.
The room was lit by huge windows opening beneath what appeared to be the eastern exposure. Beams of sunlight streamed down over walls of books and illuminated the two long tables and chairs with golden light. To his left a large hearth dominated the wall and bore a crackling fire. The mantle was crowded with candles and there a large clock ticked softly. Erik gazed out at the garden beyond the window to his right, feeling somewhat unsettled. He sensed the importance of this meeting, but had no idea what was to be discussed. Pieter gathered a few papers from the top of his desk and looked up.
"I will be right back," he reminded him. "Make yourself at home; Arlene should be right back with some breakfast."
"All right," Erik answered, not bothering to turn and watch him leave. When silence settled back around him, he faced Pieter's desk and took a deep breath. Aware of the fact that Pieter had closed the doors behind him, Erik pulled the envelope from his pocket to study it. It was wrinkled from the rain but had dried intact, the script that had written only his name virtually unmarred. With a sigh he broke open the seal and carefully unfolded it. To his astonishment, several bills fell onto his lap, which he picked up and tucked back into the envelope without taking note of them. Instead, he lifted the letter and read it, his eyes moving rapidly over the lines.
Dearest Erik,
I trust that by the time you read this Marguerite will have convinced you to go to the safe place I directed her, and that you both arrived safely. It is my hope that once you get away, you will gain a new perspective concerning the past few months. It is not, however, only for your sake that I have had her bring you there. I regret to inform you that she is in danger once again, for I have received reports of the "ghost" of J.B. having returned. Even worse, his brother was seen in the stables last night, yet was thankfully interrupted from whatever task he had planned in being there. This forces me to lay aside my concerns for your unfortunate situation to focus upon this new threat. Although I regret placing any additional burden upon you, I feel I must plead for your protection over Meg once again.
Knowing you to be a good and honorable man, I appeal to you and ask that you give Marguerite your name and make her your wife--you are the only one I trust with her future. I am confident that, given time and better circumstances, you will prove an excellent husband to her. She is very fond of you and even more importantly trusts you, as do I. It is my belief that only you can help her overcome her fears, and that she will in turn prove a balm to your own soul. I do confess to having prayed that you would both come to this decision on your own, but that prayer has unfortunately gone unanswered. I pray that you will someday forgive my interference by asking this of you. Try to envision how we might all benefit from such a marriage. Marguerite is completely unaware of both my thoughts and this request, as well as the danger she is in. In anticipation of your honoring my request, I enclose part of her dowry, which is your due to receive. Pieter is an ordained minister and will help you. Though I regret not witnessing your vows, I would be greatly relieved should you marry quickly and in my absence. Your safety and happiness are more important than my longing to be with you. I pray you will see the wisdom of my request and honour it. I am forever grateful to you, and send you both my deepest love... Louise
Stunned, Erik lifted his eyes to the windows, his heart pounding. The beauty and peace he saw beyond them did little to calm the war of emotions raging within him. Absently refolding the letter, he tucked it back into the envelope and into his pocket without looking.
Marriage?…to Meg? He didn't know whether to scream in frustration, or shout for joy. Running a hand over his face, he closed his eyes and leaned his chin into his hand, jabbing his elbow into the arm of his chair.
Surely Louise knew how unfit he was, especially for marrying anyone, and especially now! How could she ask it of him, pressuring him and alarming him with news of the brothers Buquet coming back? He was just as much a criminal as they were, only one running from the authorities. He had no plan for his own life, let alone the life of another. He opened his eyes and stared out the windows, forcing himself to consider Meg's safety. Surely she would be protected here, with or without him, but would she stay? Her mother had no plan to come here, and Meg would surely want to return to her mother. He shook his head, picturing her returning home unaware of the danger her mother no doubt wished her to remain unaware. Although he did not wish to return there, he knew he would do it if only to protect her, as he had done in the past. And Louise knew that.
Still, he could hardly ask her to marry him and throw her life away! Meg was young and beautiful. She could have any man she wanted. She needed someone who was powerful and settled, someone who could give her a good life and see to her protection. He, on the other hand, had nothing to offer her but his own strength and vigilence. And his friendship.
Then her face flooded his memory, forcing him to confront the interest he had read in her eyes when she looked at him. It was true that he could not deny the current of desire that flowed between them, however unexpected and preposterous. The easy friendship which had developed between them was encouraging, but was it enough to build a marriage upon? Louise's letter haunted him, reminding him of that which he had sensed since finding her in that dark alley three years ago, bravely trying to fight off the men attacking her. She trusts you...After he had rescued her and called her name, once she recognized his voice she had gripped him in desperation and let him carry her home to her mother. She had clung to him and for the past two years had left him notes asking to see him again. Her offerings of small gifts had also gone unanswered, and he had not been near her until the night she ran out of the tunnel after him.
...She trusts you...He thought of the Buquet brothers coming back to threaten her yet again, despite all his intervention to deter them. Grinding his jaw in frustration, he gripped the arms of his chair and faced the reality of his suspicions, now confirmed by Louise's letter. They were the masked men trying to stealing the horses, he realized. They had fought him and stabbing him, and now they knew he had Meg. He owed it to her, and to her mother, to do as he was asked. Throwing his head back he sighed in frustration. The whole idea was ridiculous...impossible...yet, in a way, it was also frustrating simple, at least in theory.
Erik lowered his gaze to Pieter's desk, steeling himself for the inevitable. He had been sent here, that much was obvious. Meg had cp,e after him with his bag packed, feeling sorry for him. Louise had tucked in her plan for the future and had effectively backed him into a corner of decision. Even in his delirium his vision had guided him back to the Father he never knew. Arlene's window added to the mysterious plan laid out before him. As he narrowed his gaze upon the papers and files strewn across the pastor's desk, he sensed another stepping stone set before him, not sure he wanted to take it. But he knew without a doubt that there would be no going back.