Turn of the Tide: The Paddock

Erik:

My existence on this earth has been wrought with an array of unpleasant experiences, and from those experiences comes a vast wealth of skill and awareness that the normal man – if there ever was such a thing – could not conceive.

My tussle with de Chagny the night before sent me into a day-long fit of agony which was only made worse by the incessant screaming coming from outside. I laid there in bed all day, cursing every foot fall outside my door, every miniscule noise that was amplified a thousand times in my condition. I simply lacked the ambition to speak even to Nadir, who stayed by my side again throughout the day. Eventually, though, I decided a touch of conversation would be a welcome respite from the constant screeching. Nadir and I made arrangements that would take me from the Chagny estate and away from the harm I had caused.

Away from Christine.

Once more in a state of self-loathing, I moped about until it was dark and quiet before I struggled to dress in some of my fine clothing Nadir had gathered for me. I hadn't considered my need for a sling until the stabbing pain in my shoulder told me otherwise. Painfully I fashioned one out of available linen and managed to get myself into it. It was a well-fought battle that I admit I nearly lost. I actually remember feeling rather proud of myself until I realized I had not put my coat on and had to repeat the bloody process all over again. Splendid.

Deftly I traveled downstairs and outside to the stable toward the origin of the desperate cries. There he was – Giovanni, the magnificent horse with the most unfortunate of names. He had quieted some, but was still distraught. His coat was wrinkled with dried sweat and his eyes still looked about with urgency. Foolishly enough I led him out to the nearest paddock and turned him loose. Initially his feet grew wings and he ran about like a fool; I thought for a moment that he might jump the fence.

Feeling rather exhausted and sheepish – at this point I was feeling the same - Giovanni turned his attention back to me and I began giving him an occupation. He responded very well and I began to enjoy what truly was a kind demeanor. I lost track of time as I continued working the horse in liberty when I spied a dark shadow and felt that familiar, curious stare on my back.

The human race has been known for idiotic behavior throughout history, and our darling Vicomte that evening certainly illustrated why. I rolled my eyes at his brazen act of reconnaissance before I opened my mouth to speak.

"Men who stalk me from the shadows do not live to tell the tale, Chagny," I declared without even turning to face him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him stiffen in his gait. I scoffed as I turned my attention back to the gelding. Giovanni, I thought to myself as I continued stroking his neck and barrel. His name was nearly enough to send me away when I read it on his stall plate. All day I had listened to him cry while the others assumed I was unconscious, and perhaps it would have been better if I were.

Was I truly that much of a threat at that hour of the night, nursing a knife wound in my side, a gunshot wound to my shoulder, and fine collection of other injuries from the bludgeoning of an angry mob? Most likely not, especially if the Vicomte was to remain on that side of the fence with a pistol.

"I should demand that you cease handling my horse immediately," he demanded. Raoul came to stand on the outside of the fence, standing squarely to me in what I presumed to be an attempt of intimidation. Instinctively my jaw clenched as I forced my attention on the horse. I feared that my temper very well could get the better of me and Monsieur le Vicomte would suffer the consequences despite my injured state.

Ignoring Raoul for a moment, I turned my body to face the horse and brought my left hand up to send Giovanni away from me at a bright trot. I watched carefully as he circled about me. By now the gelding was striding out calmly, his back free from tension and his hind end propelling him forward. His ears flicked back and forth as he watched and listened for my cues. After several revolutions I abruptly turned my back the to Vicomte and stood stock-still. Just as he had learned, Giovanni came to stand behind my right shoulder, and I reached over with my left hand to reward him.

"What the devil are you doing?" the Vicomte asked. His tone was surprisingly curious and lacked the edge of disapproval it had held moments before. Amazingly enough, my patience for the boy remained intact.

"Doing you and this poor horse a damn favor," I spat. "Unless, of course, your household would like to continue the incessant noise."

Raoul paused momentarily as he placed his hands behind his back. "We had to destroy his teammate recently."

"How benevolent of you," I sneered. Why in Hell was he trying to converse with me?

"He was colicking badly and would not respond to treatment," exerted the Vicomte, his tone becoming suddenly defensive and resentful. The boy struck me as a horseman, and while I did not care to admit it at the time, he was most likely feeling ill toward my impetuous comment. "This is hardly necessary at this hour."

"No," I began, the sarcasm beginning to drip from my voice. "I will simply return him to his stall to scream the night away. Lord knows he may very well sweat himself to death and solve your problem for you." Raoul grew suddenly quiet and simply stared at us – the wounded, disfigured criminal and the horse at ease behind him. I watched as his gaze turned to a spot on the ground somewhere on his left. If I had been slightly more coherent or possessed an ounce more of caring I would have guessed that his thoughts were trailing back to his brother, Comte Philippe de Chagny. On that spectrum I felt sorry for the boy, I honestly did.

"The head injury," he muttered suddenly.

I tilted my head in inquiry. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why did you ask if my brother had a head injury? What concern was it of yours?" Raoul demanded as he looked at me, his eyes with a tinge of desperation, his tone trying to remain in control. Giovanni nudged my right shoulder from behind, not realizing the sharp pain he caused. I moved to his right and placed my left hand over his nose.

"You do not want to hear it, Chagny," I declared. He shook his head once and took a brazen step forward.

"Answer me, damn it, or perhaps we'll finish what was started last night."

"You mean pick up where we left off? Then in that case I suppose you had better give me that pistol you have stored in your coat, because I distinctly remember being in prime territory to blow your brains out," I seethed as I took a step toward him. "Best to not aggravate me now, Vicomte, it still may very well end poorly for you."

Raoul squared his shoulders tried to make himself look just a bit taller – it was, as I would come to learn, a typical thing for him to do when feeling backed against a proverbial wall. Point to Erik.

He took another step toward me with a sort of curious sneer written across his features. "You're wounded, out in the open. How do you expect to finish me off with only one hand?"

"I only need one hand and a stupid target," I declared. "Fortunately for me this evening I have both." I pulled my left hand inside my coat and fingered the fine bit of catgut that had served me so well over the years. To be perfectly honest I expected Raoul to take offense to that last remark and run off screaming like a little girl, but instead he took one final step toward me and rested a foot on the fence. I gave him a bit of credit for half smiling – at the time I didn't know if he was a half wit and incapable of seeing the insult, or if he was actually an intelligent being capable of laughing at himself.

There were a few more tense moments with the two of us staring at each other. In the back of my mind I was formulating an escape plan should something unfortunate occur, such as me breaking the lad's neck. Nadir was soon to arrive to extract me, but I feared he may not be in time should I be forced to do something rash. I looked off for a moment to my right, to the line of trees that hugged the fence line when Raoul once again inquired about the head injury to his brother.

"It is of no consequence," I said calmly. "Go back inside and have a brandy, cognac; do whatever it is annoying people like you do when you're sullen."

"Damn it, Erik!" he yelled. I turned to him a bit shocked not only at the volume of his voice, but the fact that he called me by my name. As it turns out it would be the first of many in our acquaintance with each other…Damn it, Erik this; damn it, Erik, that…one would think that I did something "wrong" quite often by him. Oh, I can hear it all now…

"If you don't tell me I shall go quite mad," he muttered. As I watched cautiously, Raoul gripped the fence with both hands, and allowed his head to drop momentarily in frustration. I could only look at him then, wondering what was going through his mind and wondering where the bloody hell Nadir was. Raoul raised his head and looked at me, pleading for an answer.

Suddenly he seemed very young.

I sighed and answered his damn question. "The footing in the fifth cellar can be quite slick and treacherous, as I'm sure you are aware of. People fall and injure themselves down there more often than you may realize. It takes no great effort at all to give oneself a concussion by falling on wet stone, and then drown in the lake."

Raoul pushed himself up from the fence and his eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you."

"No? Go on then and see! Go at a jog and you'll see more closely." I watched as Raoul's distasteful grimace twitched, and he looked away momentarily. Not the one to dwell on other's internal conflicts I glanced at my pocket watch and cursed Nadir under my breath. As I glanced back over to Raoul he was still looking down at the grass. My tolerance for my injuries was beginning to wane, and I wished him away so that I may finally grimace and curse in privacy before Nadir arrived. Giovanni still stood by, resting one of his hind legs and watching the two men before him stand off in some strange spar of words he was incapable of understanding. I turned to the gelding and rested against his neck for a moment.

"Why are you out here?" Raoul asked suddenly.

"Leaving."

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

I looked at Raoul with an anger welling within. "What, so you can keep a leash on me, is that it?" The Vicomte would be sadly mistaken if he thought to keep me in his sights for long. To my surprise he did not match my tone, but paused briefly and responded with a soft volume.

"I inquire for Christine's sake."

His mention of her name stabbed me in the chest. My punishment to myself of leaving Christine while I still lacked the strength to overcome my desire had just slapped me in the face, and I became quiet. "You needn't worry."

Uttering those words was like admitting defeat. Capitulating to him of all people caused half of me to want to leap across the fence and crush his pathetic throat – the other half of me simply wanted to roll over and die. This conflict drained me of the little energy I possessed and I quickly began to feel ill. I turned away from Raoul and stood somewhat shakily. I hurt. There was no denying that to myself anymore, and I only wanted to go away so that the torment may continue elsewhere. I made my way over to the fence, some distance away from Raoul, and leaned against it for support.

"Perhaps you should sit and rest while you wait," he suggested.

"Shut up, Chagny," I sneered over my shoulder. That last realization of mine had made me rather annoyed at his presence. Giovanni had followed me over and stood by as he had learned. I glanced up at his soft, kind eye and reached up absently with my left hand to scratch his forehead. I tangled my fingers in his forelock as I felt the fence behind me move under Raoul's weight.

"He quite likes you," he remarked. I looked painfully over my shoulder to find him not more than ten feet from me, arms folded on the top of the fence. What a strange evening this was, even by my standards. I said nothing in return, confident in my ability to work with horses, but not communicate with people. A minute crawled by before I heard a soft sigh from Raoul. "At times I find horses to be the best judges of character," he said softly as gestured for the gelding to approach him.

"Do not tell me you are going to change your entire opinion of me simply because of a horse," I scoffed. Positively absurd, but he had an excellent point. I watched from behind the mask as Raoul interacted with Giovanni over the fence. He had a relaxed, approachable posture around the animal. However much it angered me to say so, the boy had a kind demeanor about him. As much as it pained me to admit it to myself, Christine would be safe with him. One, if God had been listening, and two, if he had been kind enough, he would have dropped a boulder on my head right then. But, subject to my usual disappointment in the Almighty, we spent several more minutes in an uncomfortable, aggravating silence.

In that silence my breathing became a bit more frantic and uncomfortable. I felt myself sinking further against the fence until I decided, despite my innate sense of pride, it was probably best for me to be on the ground. As I more or less collapsed to my knees I felt something grab me under the left arm in support. It was Raoul. "Get off me," I growled as I sank against the fence post. I could see him then – he was just in front of me on the opposite side of the fence. He looked at me for a moment, grimaced some, and then returned to his position several feet behind me on the fence. I sat quietly as I waited for my increasingly tardy jailor to arrive. Nothing was said.

Not long afterward I heard doors closing and several footsteps approaching across the gravel drive. "Is everything well, Monsieur?" asked a gruff voice from a distance. "We heard shouting." Raoul made no response – he may have gestured, with my back turned I did not know. I turned slightly and from the corner of my eye noticed three or four servants or stable hands standing perhaps 50 feet away, illuminated by a single lantern. They stared at my collapsed figure. "Is he down, Monsieur?" one asked, and I feared I knew then why they had come.

Given my physical state I began to seriously doubt my ability to overpower four men – five, if that wretch Raoul became involved - or even my ability to escape. Deftly I slipped my free hand inside my coat once more and fingered the hidden Punjab lasso. If I was to be their target, the Vicomte would be mine.

"Thank you for your concern, all of you," Chagny remarked. "But we are both quite well and do not require your assistance." I thought I was hallucinating. Honestly, I thought my condition had worsened to a point where my mental capacity was slipping, and I had better catch his neck now before I was utterly incapable of defending myself.

"He don't appear well, Monsieur. Everyone's been talking," one of the stable hands noted in a deep, raspy voice that made the musician within cringe. The four began to approach. "All the house is scared of him, Monsieur, and come to find out he's stealing the horses…we can have him be gone for good, sir. Be real quiet-like."

"I do not want to hear any more of this nonsense. He did not steal the horse. We were attempting some new handling techniques, is all. Leave, Maurice. Everyone leave."

But Maurice did not leave. Disgusted, he spat, "No one wants him around, sir – he's a bloody freak of nature!"

"That is quite enough," Raoul growled. To my utter shock the Vicomte stepped forward and stood between them and myself. "There will be none of that, here. Do you understand me?" he demanded. There was a tense silence. "Do you understand!" Murmured acknowledgements followed from the men. Raoul paused, then calmly stated, "Return to your quarters or I shall see you all questioning your employment at this estate." In confusion I had once again turned my back on all of them, and listened to the shuffling footsteps returning indoors. Raoul waited until the four had retreated before he returned to the fence. I hadn't moved from the fence post.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. It seemed quite clear to me he was wrestling with his words.

I stared at the cold ground before me. "I have no need for your fucking pity," I spat.

"It's not pity-"

"It is pity!" I declared as quickly regained my feet and spun around on him. I was itching to wring the breath out of the boy's neck, but Nadir's hired cab was making its way toward the drive, and I stared after it for a moment before turning back to Chagny. "If it's not pity, then it is fear, and fear leads to hatred. Quite frankly I don't need any help from you on any of those fronts, Monsieur," I spat.

Raoul was taken back by my sudden outburst. He stared after me as I walked by him. "If I hadn't stepped in they would have ripped you to pieces in your condition."

"Perhaps you should have stepped out of the way, then!" I called over my shoulder.

"They hate you. I can't say I necessarily disagree with them."

"Yes, well, I hate me too," I said coldly as the cab came to a halt.

"No remorse?" Raoul called after me. "No second thoughts over the lives you've ruined? What about Christine? What about the people you've killed?"

I turned and stood as he boldly stopped within a foot of me. Despite my condition and the moments of peace that had occurred between us over the past several days, I stared him down and gave him my icy warning. "If you seek me out in the future, Chagny, I will kill you."

I was not accustomed to breaking that type of promise. I had done so once before, to the man that now watched from the inside of the cab and waited to ferry me away from this situation. Had I known I was about to break it again, I most likely would have thrown myself in front of the cab then and there.

I turned from Chagny and joined Nadir. As the cab trotted off, I watched Raoul stare after us before turning my attention to Giovanni, who had once again resumed running the fence line in my absence. Nadir looked at me in horror of the part of the conversation he had heard, but was most likely surprised at seeing us both alive in each other's company. As we drove off into the surrounding darkness I was disturbed over how strange the evening was – how close the Vicomte and I had come to killing and praising each other in the same span of time. Little did I know that this strange evening would lead to a sort of surreal existence any sort of stupor could not conjure.

Author's Note:

Here it is! My deepest, deepest apologies to all of you for not updating. This story is NOT going to stay incomplete. I beg you all to be patient, as I am in a very busy part of my life that does not afford much time for creative writing such as this. I have quite the tale to tell, and I think it'll be an exciting one to be a part of, so I hope you will have the patience with me to go for the ride.

Thank you all for your reviews and encouragement!