My longest chapter so far! Hope that you enjoy it!
SVP revue!

Chapter Twelve

'Oooh! My aching body… Jean-Luc! I hold you completely responsible!' grumbled Frederic as he gingerly lowered himself onto a chair. 'I should never have listened to you!'

Erik and Luc shared a quick grin before the child turned to his long-suffering mentor and patted his arm in sympathy.

'Ouch! Don't!'

'Does it hurt that much?'

'Nom de dieu! Of course it does! That evil horse threw me out of the blasted saddle twice, ran me straight into numerous branches and bushes and also had the unmitigated gall to bite me! Hah! But I showed her didn't I! That horrible creature won't be biting me again anytime soon!'

'I can't believe you bit that horse back!' burst out Jean-Luc, torn between laughter and shock.

'Well…It worked didn't it?' mumbled Frederic, embarrassed that his anger had leaded him to make a fool of himself again. Lyon would be in stitches if he ever found out that he had bitten a horse in retaliation! 'Champagne behaved perfectly afterwards! No more murder attempts!'

'I'll go and get your ointments! It will help you.' Springing up of the ottoman, Erik ran up to Frederic's rooms.

Erik quickly returned to the study, grasping the small wood chest carefully.

'You'll have to help me… Luc's gone to have a bath.'

'Bien.'

Frederic began removing his coat very carefully, wincing when sharp pangs stung his neck and shoulder muscles. Erik cringed in sympathy when the mass of colourful bruises and scratches marring Frederic's back and shoulders were revealed. Frederic passed him a bottle and the boy, very gently began to dab at the wounds.

Gritting his teeth, Frederic consoled himself with mental pictures of making horse soufflé.

'Done!'

'Merci beaucoup, enfant. Could you please do my arms also? I cannot lift them at the moment.'

Erik slipped quickly to face Frederic, happy that he could do something to help his hero and he luxuriated at the freedom and comforting joy of being able to touch another human being without fear of being remonstrated with.

Tipping more of the oils into his tiny hands, Erik delicately stroked the mixture onto poor Frederic's arms.

'Tell me if I am hurting you, please.'

'Merci beaucoup, enfant. You are doing très bien!' praised Frederic, watching the soothing strokes of Erik's fingers drowsily. Grinning happily from Frederic's commendation, the child bent his head again to the task.

Eyes sharpening suddenly, Frederic's hand swooped out and plucked Erik's hand from its occupation. Studying them intently, Frederic delicately tested the little fingers and a dark frown clouded his fine brow. He had never before noticed but Erik's left hand was twisted into almost a claw. He had never made much of the fact that the boy used his right hand almost exclusively for all tasks (even those that usually required the use of two hands); not thinking that there was such a drastic explanation for Erik's favouritism.

'Does your hand hurt, Erik?'

'Non, Frederic… It only hurts sometimes.'

'What happened?'

Erik stared in him silently and as the memories flashed in his mind painfully, he murmured 'Ma mere did it… She was angry.'

Frederic's teeth clenched angrily and Erik watched as fury lit his dark eyes. Sighing, he looked down onto his tiny boots and remembered.

It was his mother's birthday. It was also the day he realised that his mother loathed him.

Five-year-old Erik had waked early that day to make the long walk to the woods in order to pick a birthday bouquet from the pretty flowers he had discovered the day before. He had been so excited at the prospect of presenting the blooms to his mother and was hopeful of gaining one of the fond smiles that he spied her giving to his half-brother. He had painstakingly chosen only the most perfect blossoms for his bouquet and when he felt that he had enough, he tied them carefully together with a strip of cloth which he had cut from his best and only other set of clothing.

Erik closed his eyes painfully as he remembered how he had hurried back to the village, clutching his precious burden. He had been so anxious to get back as he had feared that he would not make it in time to visit his mother before her party started. Obviously, he had been barred to even approach the house whilst the party was going on. He had been so relieved when he made it in enough time to be allowed admission into his mother's house.

Camille had been in her very large, frilly dressing room and he had crept quietly into the room. Waiting for his mother to notice him, he had shyly watched her applying her various lotions and paints. Wincing with the recollection of what happened after his mother finally deigned to speak to him; his mind was unwillingly pulled back to the past events. He had tripped on one of his mother's fussy rugs and his present had flown to land unceremoniously onto his mother's lap. Shrieking furiously that he was trying to ruin her dress, she ignored his tearful apologies and had just turned around to pick up the flowers. Aiming for his little face, she had thrown the bouquet as hard as she could at her eldest child. Erik was so stunned at his beloved mother's attack; he had just stood there as she began hurling her various toiletries at him. Jerking out of his stupor when a glass bottle shattered painfully against his diminutive chest, he tried to dodge away from the make-shift missiles.

Nearly howling with rage, Marguerite had snatched up her heavy silver brush and began slashing it at the cringing child. Erik had crumpled unto the floor after a particularly hard blow to his back and had curled into a tight little ball, trying as much as he could to disappear and protect himself from his mother's continued blows. Angered at his attempt to protect himself, she struck energetically a few more times at the hand Erik had curled around his head to shield it from the bashes, before screaming for her maid to throw the little monster out!

He had a fever that very night due to an infection from the numerous cuts, bruises and wounds inflicted upon him by his maman. Erik remembered how horrible he had felt and how he was not able to move. The shards from the glass bottle his mother had thrown at him were still dug deep in his tender flesh as no one bothered to nurse the 'demon', and he had not the strength as yet to clean his wounds himself. He dared not move for fear of pushing the slivers in deeper and in any case the slightest movement caused him a great deal of pain.

After the maid had thrown him out, Erik had managed to crawl back to his aunt's house and onto the hard pallet she allowed him in the attic/storeroom. No one cared enough to check on him when he did not appear for two days.

When he was finally able to keep his eyes open for more than five minutes without getting dizzy, he had finally been able to clean his wounds. Erik remembered the panic and shock he had endured when he had tried to pick out a small glass shard from his right arm and his fingers would not accommodate him. They were so swollen, but what frightened him the most was the fact that he had to concentrate hard before his left fingers would obey him and move!

Though his other injuries had left (thankfully) no lasting effects and not many scars, he had never been able to regain his former dexterity in his left hand. He gave up trying after awhile and started compensating for his weakness by using his good hand for all tasks.

He never willingly went near his mother again. He had finally learnt to fear her.

'It was my fault… I made her angry…I was clumsy.'

In an oddly maternal gesture, Frederic, unable to bear the acute sorrow and pain in Erik's eyes, swept the boy against his chest in a fierce hug.

'It wasn't your fault…' consoled Frederic, cuddling the shocked child. He had never been shown such affection before.

They remained in that position for awhile, waiting for the anguish and pain from the past to recede. Frederic felt Erik burrow deeper into his embrace, seeking comfort that he had never before received, and he felt his own heart ache for this lost and lonely boy. Sweet-natured, cheeky and oh-so intelligent little Erik had endured so much, too much…

The next day, Erik bounded downstairs to find Frederic had disappeared and even Jean-Luc did not know where he had gone. Jean-Luc was extremely puzzled and slightly worried as Frederic was not to found anywhere on the estate and none of the vehicles were taken out. One of the mares was missing but she could have just wandered towards the far end of the paddock and Frederic was not likely to be caught dead on horseback after yesterday's debacle!

No one remembered seeing the young monsieur leave the house and much to Erik's dismay and disgust, Jean-Luc decided that the only recourse they could take for the moment was to wait. Obediently, Erik had went for his lessons but he was so anxious about his idol's unprecedented disappearance that for the first time his tutors had cause for complaint against him. Only after a few quiet words of admonishment and reassurance from Luc, could Erik garner up sufficient concentration to do justice to the tutelage of his various very expert and expensive teachers.

After a very solemn and quiet luncheon, Jean-Luc gave the very lacklustre Erik the rest of the day off from his studies. Looking at the brooding child, he swore to strangle the missing Frederic when he finally reappeared for causing so much worry in their young charge!

He did not have long to wait as not long after their meal for the prodigal Frederic was reported to be riding up to the house by a breathless footman. Erik immediately bounded to the front hall to meet him. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Jean-Luc followed him to greet his very irresponsible friend. He meant to impress upon dear Frederic the importance of leaving word of his whereabouts; the slight young man had become worryingly important to him.

The very dusty and dirty Frederic grinned as Erik threw himself against his waist and hugged him, demanding an explanation for his disappearance and telling him of his worry. Frederic felt very happy and blessed that despite his grievous experiences, Erik still had enough courage and confidence to trust and care for him.

'Don't scold me, mon chère enfant! I went to get you some presents! I had to go to the next village for it, that's why I am so late… Ah, how have I suffered for your sake!' finished Frederic on a humorous note. Still smiling, he listened patiently while Erik explained that that was no excuse and that Jean-Luc was very worried too!

'Oui...oui! I apologise, Erik! And to you too, mon amie!' nodded Frederic to Luc. 'I did not think that you would all be so worried!'

'Here… Let me show you what I have bought you!'

Frederic began unwrapping the cloth which protected a largish rectangular box and turned it around to face the excited little boy. Erik hesitantly opened the lid to reveal a violin! His eyes shot up to Frederic's face, he had enough trouble playing the pianoforte (though his left hand had improved so much over time). How could Frederic expect him to play the violin where they both knew that it was his left fingers that were needed to create the different notes and tones!

'It will help you strengthen your hand and fingers' explained Frederic gently, looking down at the slightly hurt bewilderment of the child. 'If you work at it, you'll be able to use your hand perfectly again.'

Biting his under-lip in an attempt to control his emotions of gratefulness and love for this young man, he gripped the precious instrument and promised to practice everyday.

'All right! Enough of that! I also bought you this and this.' Tossing him a small sack and an oddly shaped package, Frederic tried to lighten the moment.

'Ah… Luc! Don't worry, I did not forget you!' mischievously reassured Frederic as he passed his quietly observing friend his presents. 'They were just delivered to the shop this morning!'

Busily popping bonbons into his mouth, Erik turned his attention to his other present; too busy trying to unwrap the stubborn package to look at what Luc got. Luc opened the wooden box and chuckled as a bottle of very, very fine cognac was revealed. He had a very strong inkling that the drink had been brought into the country by some not very legal means, and that cheeky Frederic probably was well aware of that fact!

Opening his second gift, he deliberately exclaimed with exaggerated excitement when a box of luscious Belgian chocolates were uncovered, he drew the startled attention of Erik. Dropping a piece into his mouth, he comically savoured the delectable confection and offered the boy a chocolat. Erik looked at the gorgeously decorated treats and finally chose one. Putting it whole into his mouth, his eyes widened with delight as the bitter-sweet richness of the dark chocolate burst on his tongue. He then bit down on the chocolate as it was rather too large to enjoy in one piece and his face immediately contorted with horrified disgust. He quickly swallowed the candy much to the amusement of Frederic and Jean-Luc.

'Don't like liqueur, hmm?' teased Luc.

'Non! It is most foul!' exclaimed the seven-year-old much to the amusement of his elders. . 'It has made my mouth feel so bitter and my throat sore! How can you like such a thing?'

'It is the food of the gods! Are you sure you did not enjoy it? Here, here… Try another piece!'

Taking pity on the appalled boy, he rescued him from Jean-Luc's ridiculous threats of making him eat a piece everyday by suggesting that Erik finish unwrapping his last present. Glad to change the subject, he quickly cut through the wrapping and picked up a stuffed toy.

Staring at the bright button eyes of the stuffed animal, he exclaimed:

'I know what this is! It is a singe… a m-monkey! Monsieur Dubois told me about it during science class and also geography!', only remembering part-way through his sentence that he had to speak in English due to his excitement.

'Correct! It reminded me of you…' joked Frederic and the boy stuck out his tongue in retaliation.

'Quelle créature belle! I like it better than my chocolates! Let us trade!'

'Non, non! I like my monkey!'

'Don't be selfish! My chocolates are very good too!'

Clutching his toy, Erik stared at the evil glint in Luc's eye and gave a little yelp of happy terror before darting away to save his new friend. Luc winked at Frederic, let out a wicked cackle in warning and set out to chase the gleefully shrieking boy around the manoir.