Chap 34
That afternoon, Elaine walked into her beloved Capellen, looking around with new eyes. The beautiful place had become her home again; it was no longer her prison. She stood on the hill overlooking the waving green fields, absorbing the view with new appreciation; she could finally come and go as she pleased. In the throes of such an internal transformation, the buildings now looked so small, so limiting. A mild restlessness gripped her. She turned to look towards the entrance. Outside those gates, the world awaited.
Capellen had an invisible cloud over it now, however. It seemed lonely to her, without Erik. She had strolled through the fields, climbed the trees, and waded in the river with him. Everything on this little plot of land would remind her of their days together, the good times especially. It was bittersweet in her mind. She gripped the leather and parchment embodiment of his memories with her hand as she walked into the manor house, to meet with her father as he had requested. She walked up to his office door and knocked gently.
Inside the office, Dr. Dyson, looked up at the door with a small smile.
"Come in, Elaine." Entering, Elaine looked at him with surprise on her face.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked, crossing the room to sit at a chair in front of him. He closed his journal and came to sit next to her in the adjacent armchair, leaning back and relaxing.
"It is a father's job to know his child, my dear. I know your step and your characteristic, light knock, Elaine. How was your walk?" He said, trying to gauge her receptiveness. He had much to discuss with her.
"Enlightening, Father." She said, stroking the book that was in her hand. "I saw mother's grave."
"I go there often. Maybe next time we can go together, like we used to." He said with a small smile, memories playing through his mind of a younger, more innocent time.
"I would like that, father." He saw her eyes drift to the window, her expression melancholy. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, taking in a deep breath.
"I just want what is best for you, Elaine. At this time in your life, I would be kidding myself if I said I knew exactly what that was at all times. I cannot help to worry."
"About Erik and I." She said, completing his thoughts. He sighed and nodded. It seemed that his daughter knew her father just as well.
"Yes. We saved his life, and then I took him in under my wing, gave him comfort, and helped him to heal physically and emotionally. But this, what you have with him, I did not expect."
"I know." She sat forward and held his hand. "To be honest, Father, I did not expect it either, but there was a connection I could not ignore. We are at an impasse of sorts; I do not know what will happen in the future. I only know how I feel about him now." He looked up as she paused. Her eyes were intense, her face serious. "His history scares me as much as it scares you." Dr. Dyson was thankful for her honesty, but it did not make him worry less.
"It seems that the compassion I have nurtured in you has paid me back with fear. I know it will please you if he returns. For that I hope he does and I will silence my disquiet." She looked away, as if to assemble her thoughts.
"You have taught me how to love blindly, father. Do not regret it, for it has made me a better person, I believe. True, it has led to some unintended consequences." She looked back into his eyes. Dr. Dyson could not help it, his face showed his mild disapproval.
"I will not condemn you for caring for him." He said. "I am only concerned for your safely and your heart."
"I do not think you have to worry about either of those things with regard to Erik. I do not see him like others do. He is exceptionally beautiful to me. As for his transgressions, well, it is not for me to condemn him. We are all sinners in our own ways. It may shock you, but I find his actions to be rational reactions to a horrific life. No one should have had to endure what he has been through." Her gaze drifted down to the journal in her lap. Dr. Dyson looked at it, and thought of what was said earlier, outside the gate.
"We do not even know if he will be back. This whole conversation may be a moot point." He said, mostly to himself. She pulled her hand away abruptly.
"That is a possibility." She responded, the gloom of that statement making her brows wrinkle.
"I just think that, Erik or not, you should start to move along with the things you have planned for your life." He reached out to her and captured her hand once more. "I believe he cares greatly for you, which is what gives me comfort in this strange ordeal. I believe he will understand, whatever your decisions." She looked at him thoughtfully.
"I suppose you are right. But I must decide what it is that I want with my life now. I had been just satisfied to go on without any specific plans, but now I feel it is time for a change." She said, putting the journal down on the table besides her.
"Good. To that end, I need to discuss something very important with you." Dr Dyson got up from the chair to retrieve a letter from the desk drawer. "You see, Elaine, I have been corresponding with the Dean of The French Clinical School," Elaine's eyes were glued on her father now. He handed her the letter from the Dean, the one that Angelique had arranged. "They are willing to work with you so that you will acquire your medical degree in an efficient manner." She looked at him, eyes full of questions. He motioned for her to read the letter.
Elaine opened the letter slowly. Elaine's eyes showed surprise at what the letter revealed. She looked at her father again, confused.
"So, let me get this straight, they want me to take the final examinations to all the didactic courses, and based upon that they will grant me entry into the appropriate, higher class? They are willing to make this exception for me? Why?" Her father sighed, crossing his arms and looked down at the floor.
"Everyone there is deeply ashamed of what happened to you. I believe the new administrators fault the old guard for not doing more about it and they wish to try and make amends in this fashion. Frankly, Elaine, I know this is a feeble attempt to ease guilty consciences, but I think it would be a beneficial arrangement for you. You should consider this offer seriously."
Elaine looked over the letter, reading it again and again. She had long assumed that her dream of becoming a physician was shattered, and would never be realized. And here it was; she was handed the chance once again.
This is a way to face my fears, get rid of my demons, and fulfill my dreams all at once. But I cannot, I cannot go, not now. But no, they cannot win. I can't let them. My demons must fail in their attempt to thwart my ambitions.
"I do not know if I can even go back there, be there, the place where…" She gagged, choking on her words, feeling her face grow hot. Her father pulled her up to stand before him. He hugged her tightly, his gentle voice soothing her.
"I know, Elaine. It will be emotionally very, very difficult, at least at the beginning. But the Clinical School has changed. They have graduated three women since you left and are poised to graduate several more over the next few years. There will be a woman in your class, I am told. You do have the strength, I know it." He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his gaze.
"You have been performing so well under my tutelage, Elaine. I am not just saying that because I am your father. Actually, I have been more critical with you than I was with any other student as an instructor. Caring for others is in your blood, Elaine. I have seen your talents, my dear, and I am proud." Elaine smiled.
"What about Roland?" She asked. "I cannot just leave him alone here." Dr. Dyson nodded.
"He could go to a boarding school in Paris, so you can see him when you like." He retorted. She relaxed for a second. But then she thought of Erik, a more complicated, more uncertain issue. That concern she would not share with her father.
"I don't know, Father. I will need to think about it for a while." She started.
"I am afraid time is not on our side, my dear. I realize things have been very difficult for you in the past few weeks, but that has left us with precious little time to prepare." He said, letting her go and walking around the desk. She furrowed her brows.
"In order to be considered to start on time, when the next session begins, you must take the exams within the next two weeks."
"Two weeks! You must be joking, right?" She laughed bitterly, feeling her chances slipping away again.
"You have the knowledge within you, that I know. You just have to read up on some of the newest material." Elaine clenched her fist and walked away from her father.
This seems so overwhelming. I don't know if I can do it. But wait, can I really stand to lose yet another year? I must try, I must.
"I will just have to take the tests now Father, I have no choice." She said, with conviction.
"Very good then, I will make the arrangements. Oh, and if that is not enough, I have been reminded to tell you that Marjorie needs help with the arrangements for the Charity Ball." He said, rocking back in his chair.
The Capellen Manor Ball hosted by the Dyson's each year served as a social event for the royalty and high society of Luxembourg to gather, a time worn tradition passed down through the generations. In Dr. Dyson's time, he added a charity feature to it, using the masked ball to obtain revenue for his work on leper colonies. Now it was a source of significant income needed to support the clinic for the poor in town. It was a place for the Royalty to try and outdo each other, by showing off their generosity. The entire manor was working feverishly to prepare for the occasion; Elaine was surprised that she had not noticed.
"Oh my God, I forgot completely. I guess I just have not been in the frame of mind to think about the Ball. That is coming up soon as well?" She said, staring incredulously at her father.
"You have been a tad preoccupied, my dear. It will take place shortly after your exams." Elaine gasped; there would be precious little time for her to breathe in the upcoming days. Dr. Dyson turned around in his chair, looking away from her.
"As you know, we will be hosting some out of town guests for the gala. To that end, we must make the front bedroom available." Elaine's expression fell, she became upset immediately.
"You mean Erik's room." She said, voice quiet. He nodded, still avoiding her expression. That room had become Erik's exclusive domain, and as of late, a place where Elaine went to feel close to him.
"You mean to move him out. Please, do not do that on my account, Father." She pleaded, leaning to him over the desk. She was not ready to accept it just yet. Her father finally looked back at her.
"I will not cast him out, Elaine. There is a promise I made to him before his memories came back that I will keep. I had intended to move him into the River Cabin, but he became mired in the problems with his memories before I could offer it to him. Besides, even before then, you yourself were saying that he seemed restless in this Manor house." She nodded, somewhat unhappily. Dr. Dyson sighed.
"Could you see to it that whatever belongings he has left are relocated there? I will allow him to say there if and when he returns. I believe you are the one best suited to sort through what he has left, to know what may be important to him." Elaine's spirit lifted.
"Thank you, Father. You will not regret it. My, I have a whole host of things to do." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek turned to leave the room, filled with purpose.
"I hope so." She heard her father say, begrudgingly.
Elaine spent the next two weeks dividing her attentions between studying, preparing for the ball, and spending the remaining time with her son. It barely gave her any time to think of Erik. She did, however, especially when she lay down at night, exhausted from the day's labors. She would think of him tenderly, her yearning for him growing deeper and deeper as the days passed. Her disappointment grew more each day that ended and he had yet to walk through the iron gates of the manor. The memories of his face, his music, his touch ran through her mind and slipped into her dreams. She had been putting it off, but finally, one day, she ventured into Erik's now deserted room.
She walked in with trepidation, a mild ache in her stomach as she remembered each wonderful and each dreadful interaction in the room. She sat on the chaise lounge and looked around at the different parts of the room; at the bed, where he had laid dying after his attack; at the table by the window, where he used to compose and draw his pictures; at the violin within its case, now quiet and lonely; at the corner where he had been curled up, lost in his madness, and at the fireplace... Every inch of his room, every breath she took there reminded her of him. She collected his few personal articles, his art supplies, and the journals and books that were his own. She folded up his clothing with great care and packed it. Finally, she picked up the shredded drawings and sheets of music and painstakingly pieced what she could back together. She looked through and arranged his intact drawings and pieces of music.
It was late that night, as she took everything down to the River cabin. she was pleasantly surprised to find it clean and fixed, ready for company. She put his things away slowly, arranging everything how she believed he would like it.
"There, that's it." She said, smiling at the neat stacks of music she placed on top and around the piano. It made it appear as if he had been there.
She put away his clothes in the closet and drawers, putting aside a shirt that still had his scent clinging to it. She wrapped herself in his shirt and lay down on the bed, closing her eyes, He had a faintly musky, earthy scent that Elaine found deeply comforting. Basking in the faint scent, she imagined that he was there with his arms wrapped around her.
"Erik, where are you? And what will happen if I have to leave?" She whispered to herself, a tear escaping her eye as she drifted off to sleep.
Sedrik rode through the rusting gates of Castle Boursheid, head hung low as it usually was these days. He glared at the Gypsies and mercenaries in their tents that now marred the grounds of the castle, particularly the burly, ugly beasts that guarded the gate. They roughly grabbed a case of whiskey off the open carriage, grunting at him in foreign tongues.
He looked back, but did not even bat an eye, as the liquor was mainly for their consumption. It was better to keep these men inebriated, in any case. The women who lived on the castle grounds would have a better chance to run away from their rough, groping hands. Sedrik bristled and made up his mind to talk with the retched ruler later that night about the horrible manners of his "guests".
Montague was actually more approachable these days. Unfortunately, he had not killed himself with drink, as Sedrik had hoped. Actually, he had ceased pandering to his incredible thirst for liquor, and now was indulging on hashish and opium with alarming regularity. The most positive side effect for Sedrik was that the drugs kept the Marquis less violent, but more unpredictable. He also had acquired a pair of unsavory harlots who seemed to enjoy his sadism and insatiable appetite for perversion. Sexually at least, the molesting madman had his fill these days.
Sedrik pulled the carriage into the gate and was accosted by the servants who were loudly complaining about the latest atrocities that were occurring in his once beloved castle. He had urged these people to seek other employment, the ones who were not monetarilly obligated. He did his best to quiet and reassure the servants under his care. In Sedrik's mind, all contracts were null and void with the new Marquis. All except for his. Montague still had his wife and child held captive somewhere and taunted Sedrik endlessly about it. For all he knew, they were already dead and it was just their memory that was holding him captive. He shuddered at the thought.
"The infernal terror requested your presence once you returned, Sedrik. He is in the garden with his fiends." Said one of the cooks. Sedrik bristled and headed down to the garden.
He found some men standing before Montague, who was wrapped in the arms of one of his naked wenches, his shirt barely covering his chiseled physique. Sedrik approached silently as Montague talked loudly and commandingly in Roma to the unpleasant appearing gypsies surrounding him. Money was exchanged between grubby fingers. The robed men scurried off, whispering to each other, snickering at him as they passed. Sedrik just watched them leave. He had no strength to fight anymore.
"You asked for me, Sir." Sedrik said, in a tired, irritated voice.
"Ah, Sedrik. Just the man I want to see. I need to arrange some things for me. Oh, would you like to join me with a sparring match as we talk?" Montague said, offering Sedrik the blunt end of a broadsword. "You are the best swordsman in the land, I find."
"Honestly, I am not in the mood. I have been out running your incessant errands." he said bitterly, pushing the sword away.
"Amuse me." Montague said darkly, pointing the tip of his blade at Sedrik's neck. The harlot on the couch laughed, inhaling deeply from an opium pipe before letting her lids flutter closed. Sedrik shook his head, and grabbed the handle of the sword that was offered to him.
"Couldn't you at least cover her?" He growled, looking away from the display of flesh before him. Montague laughed with impiety, glancing at his sex slave.
"But the female form is so beautiful, is it not? Oh, I'm sorry. It may bother you because you have been celibate for a while. Now where is your wife? Ah, I know." Taunted Montague, who laughed will evil as Sedrik glared at him. Sedrik threw his cloak aside and moved into a fighting stance. Montague was flamboyant in his fighting style but was actually quite excellent. Sedrik was an efficient and strong fighter, a trait that kept him alive during his tenure on the battlefields. They were well matched, actually.
Sedrik was surprised at how lucid the Lucifer-like man was acting these days. His dilated pupils and the redness in his piercing blue eyes revealed to Sedrik that he may just have an advantage. He could not let him win easily, however. It enraged Montague when Sedrik let him off easily.
They parried, and the swords clashed. The two men spun and lunged around each other. As much as Sedrik would have liked to swing his blade through Montague's neck and end the life of the one who tormented him, he had to resist trying to take a death blow. Even with the effects of the opium, the fight was still dangerous for Sedrik. He still had to put up quite a defense, for Montague always fought as if to the death. Sedrik actually enjoyed this kind of interaction with Montague; it took away some of his frustration.
"I know how much you hate me, Sedrik." Montague said, breathless after a particularly close swipe, becoming angered.
"Why do you think, because you are drawing out my torture by making me your personal errand boy, or because you have kidnapped my family and are keeping them as collateral?" growled Sedrik, pushing the Marquis up against a wall.
"Release me!" Montague screamed into his face. With just a moment's hesitation, Sedrik backed up. "That is what I like about you. I respond so beautifully to my voice." He taunted.
"As you command, Marquis Montague." Sedrick said, bowing sarcastically. Montegue bristled, and then laughed.
"I am glad you feel so free to act towards me that way, Sedrik. It is refreshing to have someone at my level. You are the only one who dares to answer back. You annoy me, yet amuse me to no end." Montague said, putting down the sword and throwing Sedrik a staff.
"It is not in my nature to grovel, Sire." Sedrik said, resuming his stance, twirling the staff into a defensive position. "Was my last strike too close? Is that why you changed weapons? You know I cannot kill you, Sire. But I may just inflict some pain, by accident, of course." For some reason, Sedrik felt a little more empowered; he was willing to push the envelope with Montague today. Maybe the desperation was getting too much to bear. Montague sensed the madness developing in his opponent, and realized his weakness.
"I will let you see her, soon Sedrik, don't you fret. She pines for you, I hear, cries out your name at night. What a beautiful name she has; Annibel." The distraction worked. As they fought, Sedrik faltered just a little, just enough for Montague to deliver a particularly hard blow to his flank. It caught him off guard and he stumbled away, crying out in pain. It did not match the pain in his heart upon being tormented by hearing about his wife.
"Why must you torture me? I do everything you command, despite the fact I disagree with everything you do!" Sedrik growled, leaning on his staff, but approaching Montague afresh. He lashed out furiously. The two men fought bitterly, until Montague was able to wrench the staff from his grasp, pushing him to the ground.
"Just end it Montague, end it now!" He said, glaring into evil eyes, out of breath. Just a little pity was seen to escape from the eyes of Montague.
"I cannot. I need you to do some things for me." He said, in a low voice, breathing with difficulty, leaning on his staff. "I will be having a special guest coming to stay with me soon, and I am afraid you are the only one I trust to take care of her needs. The other men would probably try to harm her just to spite me." He said between labored breaths.
"And how do you know I will not do the same?" hissed Sedrik.
"You do not have it in you to hurt a woman. That is your problem, Sedrik, you are a good man." Montegue said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I want you to make sure the suite attached to my sleeping quarters is fixed up for a proper lady, with all the things she will need, including toiletries and clothes. She is about the size of Rowena, over there." Sedrik sat up.
"And how did you convince a proper lady to come and live with you?" he said, glaring at Montague. He just glared back at Sedrik.
"I have my ways. Make sure that the doors in the suite lock only from the outside, and make sure that only I have the keys." He said, walking back to lie in the arms of his wench.
Sedrik shuddered at the realization of what was intended. He walked up to Montague, shaking.
"I will not be a part of this, Montague!" Montague turned to him rapidly and glared in his face.
"I refuse to have you address me in such a fashion! And you will obey me. Or else I will leave her in the hands of the mercenaries instead. She will be, a little used, but still to my liking I suspect. Would that be to your liking?" He said. Sedrik growled, but shook his head. Sedrik knew that he was being pushed into a corner. Montague knew Sedrik would never let the mercenaries touch an innocent Lady.
"Expect her in about a week." Montague snarled, scooping up his woman then heading back into the castle.
Sedrick, filled with hatred, threw the staff at the departing scourge.
This will be the last straw, Montague, I promise you...