Turn of the Tide - Say Nothing

Erik:

"You have too many cards," I noted. Nadir casually looked up at me from across the table and then shot a fleeting glance to Darius.

"No I do not," he shot back, somewhat hurt that I had called him on it. He went right back to examining his coins, confident in the numerical status of his playing cards.

"Can't you count?" I mocked as I stared straight across at him. "Six. I see six in your hand."

"And your point?"

"You can't have six cards in a five-card game." Nadir naturally glanced at his hand and a bit sheepishly slid one card to the bottom of the deck. Darius shifted in his chair while I went back to studying my own cards. This particular game was a complete waste of my time and talent, but seeing that it was well after two in the afternoon on a bright, beautiful Parisian day, and I honestly had nothing better to do, it was enough to occupy the lull.

The Comte de Chagny's appearance the week prior was about to be revisited, as he was due to stop by that afternoon to discuss in detail the matter of the horse. Why on earth he would venture into the clutches of a known madman for the sake of a pleasure horse I would never understand. I began to believe very strongly in the boy's own mental shortcomings, say nothing of my own.

The three of us sat in a silence thick as Darius's facial hair. In fact, I recall actually saying that aloud, which of course earned me the most appreciative look from Darius – if by "appreciation" I mean seething disdain, naturally. I had bluffed well enough for them to bet far out of their means, and when it came time to show our hands I admit I smirked at their misfortune. Instead of collecting my winnings, I merely rose to pour myself a glass of water.

Nadir looked at me with a peculiar stare. "Will you not gather what you won?" he asked unsurely. I casually sipped my glass and turned back to him.

"I never like to take from the less fortunate," I declared. "Your distinct lack of talent is a disadvantage to you. Some might say that it was your mistake to enter the game at all and call you misguided, perhaps even blatantly stupid to your face, but personally, I'd hate to see you punished for it." Again I smirked. I confess that I was thoroughly amused.

The good Daroga only stared back at me, his features a blank canvas. "I hope you realize Darius and I only sat here this afternoon for your own entertainment." He, like Darius, was clearly annoyed.

"Mhmm," I mused as I took another sip of water. "And it cost you both over 500 francs. You should consider it a blessing from Allah that we're betting light today." As I stood behind my chair taking in the frustration of the other two, a knock fell upon the door. Instinctively I rolled my eyes and set my glass down as if to answer it, but I paused. Nadir watched my reaction carefully from across the table. After several moments and another knock from our distinguished guest, he rose to his feet and made for the door. "Do not be surprised, Erik," he said quietly. I watched after him, my mood quickly slipping.

"Of course you encouraged him to come," I muttered. Nadir simply looked back and nodded. After he turned back toward the door I gathered his money on the table, much to the horror of his servant, who then retreated from the room. In the moments of peace preceding Chagny's entrance, I contemplated the situation. Unfortunately for my once grand – if not disillusioned – scheme, I was beyond killing the boy. I had given Christine to him because she seemed to love him very dearly. Even in my worst state I wanted her happiness. Any overly aggressive actions on my part would only widow her and potentially send her down a path that led not only away from me, but also toward an uncertain and difficult future.

I retrieved my water glass from the table and took yet another sip. As I held the glass thoughtfully, my brow furrowed in thought. This all was a bit funny. Tragic, in its own way, but at the same time it was indeed a bit laughable. Yards off to my left I heard Nadir answer the door and greet our darling Comte. Courtesy demanded that I stand up straight and make some attempt to acknowledge our guest, but I could not possibly care. I simply turned my head to the left just enough to study Chagny. He removed his hat and black overcoat and gave them to Nadir. Raoul gave a quick, if slightly nervous smile as he watched Nadir turn away and hang his belongings. He then looked about the new surroundings as if to delay looking at me until the last possible second. When he finally cast his eyes upon me he gave a subtle nod and a quick, "Monsieur," before his eyes fell to the floor for a moment – only a moment.

"Comte," I greeted coldly, without moving. I felt his stare, as I feel anyone's stare. It was not damning or terribly hateful, but he always seemed to be studying me with a curious manner that either annoyed me or made me uneasy. I studied him in turn, taking note of his smart day suit and well-groomed hair. He represented his line well. By now Nadir had turned back to the two of us and watched as I returned my glass to the table. His mouth gaped slightly when he noticed the absence of his money. I stood squarely with my left hand behind my back as I watched Nadir fight with himself for a fleeting second.

"What happened to not taking from the less fortunate?" he demanded, half in a whisper.

"I reconsidered."

Poor Nadir. Why he put up with me, my ugliness, and my wretched attitude I do not know. I very much enjoyed the gentle torture I inflicted upon him, for it truly was becoming a game between the two of us. I daresay my satisfaction with myself showed, for I turned to Chagny with that familiar, haughty air, and demanded that we got on with the day's business.

Nadir gestured him to the closest chair, and we all took our seats to discuss whatever it was the Comte thought important enough to occupy my time. Before we started he made sure to thank me for agreeing to see him. "The mare is coming six years old, off the track now for approximately two years," Chagny explained as he gingerly offered me a photograph. Nadir passed it along to me and I studied it carefully.

"When was this taken?" I asked.

"Just before her final race. My brother and I bought her young and intended to race, but she did not prove to be profitable. We thought briefly about the hunt races for her, but her heart simply wasn't into running. That would be my brother, Philippe, to the left." I glanced up at Raoul for a moment, taking note that his voice trailed off with the mention of his brother. He eyes turned to the floor while I went back to studying the photograph, and it was painfully obvious that this was more than just a pleasure horse. She seemed to hold represent his brother, in a way.

The mare was well put together. When evaluating horses, we look at their conformation – their build. Good conformation in a horse helps ensure a horse that moves correctly across the ground. The angle of her shoulder, her hip, and the gentle slopes along her topline all represented a quality animal that no doubt was a beautiful mover. Her legs looked well, and her head was refined.

"And this little mare has brought you here, why?" I demanded.

"I intend to make her a lady's mount, but she's proved to be a bit excitable thus far in the training. I am beginning to doubt her suitability as a hack." His intended vagueness with the term "lady's mount" sat awkwardly with me. Everyone in the room knew whom the horse was for; why Chagny suddenly chose to be careful with his words was irritating.

"This is Christine's new mare, am I recalling this correctly?"

"Yes. Yes, she is intended for her," he answered unsteadily.

"You can say her name in my presence, Chagny," I assured him as I curbed my annoyance by counting the bills I had one off Nadir. "Nothing is going to jump out the wall at you."

Raoul paused before answering, "Well one can never be too sure." His tone was nearly playful; no doubt an attempt to break through the thick ice in the room.

Nevertheless, I shot a glare at him. "Do not come in here and insult me," I said coldly before turning back to the money. "Besides, I've not had the time to redecorate, as it were." I glanced up to both Nadir and Raoul to see fleeting smiles pull at one corner of their mouths. Nadir saw his money in my hand and instantly his smile was gone.

"She rides?" I asked in reference to Christine.

"Some," Raoul noted. "She's learning. Like most people she knows the basics. Probably not capable of handling a horse of this nature even if it were fully trained, but…as I said, she's learning."

"She's a quick study," I noted, once more evaluating the photograph. "This mare, what exactly are her troubles thus far, and what have you tried to accomplish with her?"

Raoul paused for several seconds to gather his thoughts. "Naturally she was broke enough for the races, and has had the better part of the last two years off."

"Off?"

"Hacked her a bit right after retirement, probably for about two months. I then decided that she needed some time in the pasture to mature before being retrained as a pleasure mount. I also considered breeding her as I very much like her build, but given her race record I could not justify that expense. I've honestly had little use for her at all until Christine took an interest in her. I think they'd make a handsome pair."

"Quite," I sighed. Once more I felt Raoul's stare upon me. I looked off to my left and remained silent for a moment as he continued.

"She's broke to walk, trot, canter, gallop, and jump. She…can be somewhat flighty in new surroundings and around new people. Lately I've had the grooms saddle her again and begin slowly bringing her back undersaddle," he explained.

"But not you yourself."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You haven't done any of this work lately yourself, have you?" I inquired.

Raoul paused once more and took a breath. "No. With my brother's passing and the recent activity sorting out his business affairs, I've not had the time. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I believe I could do better than most of them. I know the sort of handling a sensitive animal such as this one requires, and I fear she may not be getting that with the grooms I've asked to work with her."

I shook my head at this news. "That is your first mistake," I declared. "A more excitable horse needs a great deal of time, patience, and consistency that in all honesty come most easily with one competent trainer, not whatever groom has free time." Raoul nodded in agreement. I went on to explain that the techniques I had used that one evening on the Giovanni horse were nothing but simple submission exercises. If one can assume the role of leader in the eyes of the horse, than one is much more capable of asking that horse to submit to whatever it is being asked of him. Shooing the horse out in a circle around me puts the animal to work – a sort of reinforcement to prove my point. I am demanding that he stay away from me and when he demonstrates simple acts of submission such as lowing his head to the ground, licking his lips, etc, it means he is acknowledging my dominance in the "herd" and is willing to listen. At that point I may reward him by no longer forcing him about a circle and inviting him in. It can be explained in a far more in depth, complicated manner, but the principle revolves around basic horse behavior, the idea of dominance/submission, and the use of one's own body language to achieve it. Its potential application in training and daily handling of horses is endless and certainly rewarding.

All through my explanation Raoul was attentive and even dared so far as to take notes, but again I felt that damn curiosity in his gaze that quite honestly was driving me up the bloody wall. As I went on to explain more of my opinion in training regimens I looked up to find him blatantly staring at me whilst his pen sat idle in his hand. Having finally had enough I looked off to my right and drew a frustrated breath. "Have a good look now, Chagny, and get it over with," I seethed, turning back to him, glaring. Both Nadir and Raoul snapped to at my sudden outburst and looked to each other in a mix of surprise and nervousness before returning their attention to me. The nearly relaxed manner I had held earlier in the discussion was now entirely gone, replaced with that bitter, paranoid feeling I was so accustomed to.

Chagny made to speak, but must have thought better of it, for he said nothing. He and I stared at each other for some time. I tapped the photograph against my left index finger before handing it back down the line. "Do not come here and insult me and do not come here to study me like some specimen on a dissecting table," I demanded.

Nadir looked at me in horror, knowing full well were this was leading.

"I apologize."

When Raoul said those two words I was completely taken aback. My annoyance did not necessarily dissipate, but nor was I about to jump up and crush his throat as I was one to do months before. "There are several things you will come to find that I cannot stand, Chagny. Staring is one of the greatest. I also hate stupidity, apologies, and I loathe pity. What's more I have an even greater hatred of apologies or pity from stupid people. So do everyone in this flat a favor and simply refrain from doing it."

There was an awkward silence following that last declaration, but my point was well made. That frustration also made me uncomfortably aware that I had been sitting for nearly an hour now without moving my shoulder. As I did so in my chair our ever-observant Comte took note. "Actually, I was about to ask you how you were coping with your injuries," he stated. I did not answer initially, instead choosing to get up and retrieve the brandy decanter and glasses from the adjoining room, which offered me the chance to stretch and move about out of their view.

"I am managing perfectly well," I declared as I walked back into the room. In front of me off to my right I caught a glimpse of Nadir shaking his head and motioning to his right shoulder to Chagny. "Nadir, don't. That's despicable, don't do it," I said, setting the decanter and glasses down on the nearest table. At that very moment there was another knock upon the door and my head turned toward it in an instant. Nadir never entertained guests so it was not likely to be a friendly visit. "Monsieur le Comte!" yelled the voice from behind the door. Immediately my mind thought to Chagny and the possibility of it all being a trap. I looked to Raoul. "Yours?" I demanded. He appeared genuinely surprised as he stood and quickly made his way to the door. Meanwhile, Nadir gestured for me to escape into the adjoining room. From there I waited and listened.

It was one of Raoul's men. Chagny greeted him in surprise, but that was soon to be outdone by what I heard next.

"Christine?" The shock in Raoul's voice brought me out from around the corner, and I saw for myself the cause of his disbelief. She was here.

"Raoul?" she asked, equally dumbfounded.

"Christine?"

"Erik!" Her face blanched drastically when she caught a glimpse of me. Suddenly my tie felt incredibly tight around my neck. I watched as Raoul came to her side and steadied her. Christine looked between the two of us and then to Nadir, and finally back to me. Her eyes bore straight through me.

"What," she began, turning and clutching Raoul. "What is going on here?"

"Do not be troubled, Christine, please. This is simply a business meeting," her husband began.

She turned to him, stunned, as if she thought she was being lied to. "Business? How?" Christine then turned back and looked me up and down. Her face reflected a thousand questions, but nothing came. I felt quite sorry for her then; she was stuck in a whirl of confusion that was obviously swallowing her whole. Raoul ushered her to the nearest armchair and knelt beside her.

I followed and stood off to the side. She was here. Here in my residence, and I did not drag her behind me. No, she had stumbled upon me by mistake, searching no doubt for her husband. I heard the coachman, who had accompanied her up the stairs, explain to Nadir that she caught wind of Raoul's destination and had immediately set out to discover what was occurring. I then watched the man retreat down the stairs at Nadir's insistence, and turned to Christine. "No one has come to any harm, Christine, and I assure you no one will."

She closed her eyes at the sound of my voice. Moments passed in silence. "You left," she muttered. "You left without so much as a goodbye. My God, I thought I'd never see you again," she stammered. Her tone, despite the surprise she must have suffered, still managed to reflect a pure concern and mixed relief that was also apparent to me. I looked around the room then made my way across the room and leaned against the fireplace mantle.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

She then looked to me and stood up. Raoul slowly rose and stood behind her – his stance reflected his protective nature now that his wife was now actually present and presumably in danger. If only he knew I would rather kill myself than harm her. Christine took one small step toward me and stopped once more. "Erik."

I turned at her soft call and drew my left hand behind my back to compose myself. She seemed slightly more comfortable in my presence than I felt in hers. She had several days at the Chagny estate where she apparently sat at my bedside whilst I was unconscious. Thinking back to those days I felt somewhat ashamed of myself. But I stood across from her that afternoon trying to find some middle ground between the strong, mysterious, calculating persona of her Angel and the weakened idiot that I felt much closer to at the moment. She bit her lip and pause as she continued to study me, which oddly enough did not annoy me. "I never stopped caring."

"Please Christine, don't," I warned.

She glanced at my shoulder for what seemed like eternity. "I hope you're well."

"I am well enough, thank you," I stated quickly. I did not have the heart to tell her that the strength and range of motion in my right shoulder had been cut in half. I could not tell anyone that I could not sing until recently – not that I had the inclination to – because I could not hold a sustaining breath.

Christine returned to her seat and to Raoul. Awkward. This was all too awkward for anyone's liking. I could go on in more detail about this initial meeting, but in all honesty this account is far too long as it is. The four of us remained in that same, awkward silence for a great long time. Eventually words did come. Christine had come out of fear for Raoul, but also fear for me as well. She could not possibly fathom what would the two of us could manage to be in the same room together. Personally I was still feeling the same way. Looking back on it, I feel no different. It was unimaginable to everyone, and yet, it happened. When Raoul finally told her it was over a horse, she paused in disbelief. Her stunning features were stupefied. If anything I think she was perhaps a bit annoyed with him!

Finally the unimaginable came up – an invitation to see the horse myself. "Christine I do not think he would like to be bothered…" Raoul began, unsure if he should finish his sentence.

I looked to them both and stood up. "No, I think it would be best to leave it with today." I picked up the glasses and decanter, but when I turned to replace them in the adjoining room Christine quickly got up and grabbed my left arm. I stared at her hands and then at her face. She looked at me and loosened her grip.

"Perhaps it doesn't have to end this way, Erik."

"I feel it would be in everyone's best interests if it did." I then turned from her and made my way toward the other room.

"Then what is this?" she demanded. "What are we doing now?" I turned back to see that she had followed me half way across the room awaiting an answer. Raoul stood behind her. Christine continued to look directly at me. "If it is too painful tell me, and I shall walk away."

I said nothing.

Author's Note:
Thank you so much for your continued interest and support! I've recently relocated for a new job and appreciate everyone's patience while I moved and got settled in. Please keep reviewing, because I'll keep writing. Thank you once again!