PL vs PW:AA belongs to Capcom/Level5.
Eve's Magical Adventure
Chapter 4: Growing Pains
The seas being calmer, Constantine accompanied him to London that time; the little pup ran at his heels as he hurried to the building which held the offices and plant of Labrelum Inc. He had to get through the several receptionists and secretaries who would either giggle and stare at him as if he had hives all over his face, or give him a stern eye when he spoke in his Labyrinthian way. When he reached the outer office of the president he had to wait for Cantabella to finish with his meeting. His pup, who would not have been separated from his master in this foreign place for all the protests of the company's personnel, perched himself next to Barnham and kept his dark little eyes on anyone who cast a glance in their direction.
Upon his return from a board meeting, the Storyteller saw that the redhead was waiting for him; the latter shot to his feet at the approach of his employer. Even Constantine stood as tall as he could while still standing on the chair.
"Ah, Barnham. What brings you here? Things are well in Labyrinthia?" His pale blue eye bore a look of concern as he bade his visitor enter his office.
"Yes sir. The construction is going well and the fall of rain has ceased for the time."
"Why are you here then?"
"Erm, yes Lord—ah—Mr. Cantabella. I… have come to bring you back."
That gentleman's eyebrows lowered and he rubbed his chin. "Hrrmm… And who told you to do that?"
"'Twas Miss Belduke who suggested it, sir. She said Espella needs you."
The Storyteller's whole demeanor changed to something both employees and competitors knew to fear. "What did you say?!"
"'Tis the message she gave me." As Barnham kept the gaze of the elder man, he quickly had to swallow a slightly nervous feeling that rose in his throat. He was reminded of the time he first met the creator of Labyrinthia well before he had become a knight.
Cantabella's lips twisted in a self-depreciatory grimace and though his chin was firmly set, it seemed to tremble a bit. "We are leaving immediately."
Both men wasted no time in returning to the dock and boarding the familiar vessel which bore them back to Labyrinthia. Throughout the journey the white-haired gentleman continued to wear a half angry, half worried expression and he attempted to ascertain the exact situation of his daughter. In that aspect Barnham found himself incredibly lacking, just as Eve had so bluntly told him; he gripped the wheel all the harder and wished women weren't so hard to figure out.
The townspeople hailed them in cheerful fashion upon their arrival, but the Storyteller was too distracted to pay much attention as he hurried in search of his beloved daughter. His destination, the bakery, yielded no results, as Patty informed him that both Eve and Espella had gone to the former's house. While the town's creator departed, Barnham remained behind at the request of that lady.
In the mansion by the lake, the former high inquisitor waved another packet of seeds in front of her friend's face. "You're not paying attention, Espella," she said, throwing down the small envelope.
"Hm? Oh, I'm sorry! I was just…thinking."
Eve exhaled quickly and with some exasperation. "Espella, you're moping."
The blonde young woman also sighed and loosely clasped her hands before her chest. She fixed her best friend with the most doleful, pitiable eyes imaginable. "I'm so sorry, Eve. I know I'm being the silliest girl in the world, but no matter how hard I try I can't seem to shake it… Last year when I finally saw Dad again and when Mr. Wright and Mr. Layton brought down the curtain of illusion, I thought everything was starting over again. It was supposed to a brand-new story! So why… why…" She dropped her faces and the tears gathered like they had so many times of late.
"It is a new story, in a way," the elder of the two intoned gently as she took her friend's hand. "There are things I would like to forget as well, but we both know that doesn't work. Anyway, what sort of story would we have if we forgot everything that happened in the last one?"
The mistress of the house could hear a series of raps on the front door but she moved not as she knew someone else would answer it long ere she could descend the stairs. It seemed as though there was always someone in her house even if she was not, usually some of the number of former shades and residents of the Nulwitch Village; Eve always kept her door open to them, be it because her home was the best place to cook, to wash laundry, to get away from bickering families, to stay for a night or more because of a leaking roof, to use her library, or a multitude of other reasons they had for coming by.
Espella's shoulders rose and fell as she caught another deep, shaky breath. "Of course you're right, Eve. You always are."
The dark-haired young woman squeezed the other hand tighter. "I'm not always right, you know," she murmured. Before she'd allow herself to sink into thoughts that she knew would drag her down into a mood like that of her friend, she raised her head and gazed upon her friend. "All this talk and we haven't decided on one flower. You told me you would help select some that would look most fetching this summer."
However, before either girl could decide on anything, a knock sounded on the open door as their visitor announced himself. Both of them looked up to see the white-haired Storyteller, his hair tangled by salty breezes and his traveling cape thrown back over one shoulder. For some reason he said nothing, but his good eye sought out his daughter and then held her in a gaze which seemed at first to be all austerity.
She of the blonde braids rose and fixed him also with her moist eyes. "Dad…" she whispered. Flying toward him, she stopped within a foot of him and once more averted her face. She clasped her hands together so tightly that her fingertips became pink. Her voice was like the murmur of a breeze. "I'm so sorry…"
"Espella…" He covered his visage with his hand. "You have nothing for which you need to apologize. It was my fault. I should never have been so stern with you."
"Oh, Dad!" she wept.
Closing the distance between them, she pressed the side of her face against his buttons and clung to him, letting go of her anguish in quiet sobs which brought relief to her troubled soul. Her sunny blonde hair covered half of Cantabella's sun and dark moon brooch. After a moment he brought his arms around and completed the embrace, lowering his head over that of his daughter's.
Eve, who had been watching them with just the barest hint of a smile forming at her lips, slowly sank back to the sofa and fixed her eyes elsewhere. She pushed further away the myriad of tiny seed packages and scratched her friend's pet behind the ears. The feline mewed and raised her head to nuzzle against the hand. The former high inquisitor had been rather adverse to the idea of allowing the little dark-furred creature onto her best furniture, but had swallowed her protests for the sake of her dearest friend.
Her eyes still shining with tears, Espella slightly loosened her grip on her father and used one hand to wipe some of the tears from her cheeks. "Dad, I'm so glad you came back… I-I kept thinking about you and wanted to see you. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for what I said to you. I… I know why you reacted the way you did. I won't wear Mum's flowers if you don't want me to!"
The Storyteller's hand tightened against her back. "No, Espella. You wear whatever flowers you wish. I am but a bitter, broken man, growing old." His jawline became more rigid as he lowered his voice. "My dear little one, can you ever forgive me for hurting you?"
Pulling back from his chest and lifting her eyes to meet his pale blue gaze, she replied, "Of course. I don't want anything to come between us, Dad."
She hugged him again quickly and then remembered her friend. She waved to Eve and bade her come over, to which the other young woman complied. Cantabella's severe expression softened as he looked upon two girls; one was his daughter by blood and the other a daughter adopted by affection.
"I hope you did not mind me sending for you, Mr. Cantabella," the former high inquisitor said as she approached and Espella turned to take her hand.
"You did well, Eve. You had more sense than this stubborn old fool."
"Oh Dad, don't talk like that!" the blonde girl scolded him gently.
The tears were still upon her cheeks, but with one arm around her father and the opposite hand possessing that of her friend's, she bothered not with brushing the moisture away. No one would think to notice much beyond the joyful smile which both curved her lips and brought a light to her eyes.
"Can we go back to the bakery now? Aunt Patty would love to see you, Dad. Oh, and perhaps we can all have dinner together!"
"I see no reason that we cannot return there. I daresay Mrs. Eclaire will be glad to see your smile again. It was she who told me where to find you."
"You'll come too, won't you Eve?" Espella questioned eagerly with a squeeze of her hand.
The other young woman purposely pursed her lips so as to avoid giving any indication of mirth. "Whatever happened to picking out our seeds, hm?"
"Oh, come on. We can do that later!" And as she glimpsed Eve's mouth losing the battle of the smile, she tugged at her friend's fingers. "You can't fool me! I know you want to come."
"Ah, well I suppose I can't keep up the pretense any longer. Gathering together for a meal would be an ideal time to explain an idea I've had for a while now."
Cantabella watched them and listened to their playful banter with a thread of tired satisfaction in his eye. "An idea?" he inquired of her. "I am intrigued and I look forward to hearing it."
"Oh, yes! You must tell us right away, Eve! You can just repeat it later. No one will mind."
"Hmm, I suppose I could. I have a feeling you won't stop bothering me until I do."
The threesome exited the room and then the mansion. On the way to the outdoors they passed several villagers who were occupied to some degree or another with varied activities, ranging from the exertive task of moving large pieces of furniture about, to the simplest thing such as carrying on a conversation. All of them stopped, even for a moment, to salute those who passed them and to each Eve gave a few words. The grounds outside were similarly engaged, what with the care of the stable's horses, of the surrounding gardens, and even some rain-related repairs on a couple of the sheds. In between all this, the former high inquisitor gave voice to her inspiration.
"For a while now the townspeople have missed the excitement of the parades we used to have so often."
"Uh-huh," Espella agreed, nodding. "I've noticed that too."
The Storyteller faltered but one step. "I would not have guessed they'd miss the parades once they knew the event's true purpose. At any rate, we do hold parades when the tourists come."
"Yes, and it's quite a thrill for the tourists, but we need something more for those who dwell here. I have come up with an excellent plan—we will give everyone stories again."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his expression somber enough that someone who did not know him might think he was upset.
Eve continued, feeling her confidence heighten as she expounded further into her idea. "You could make books again, like that one you made for Espella. The children would love to be gifted with their own stories."
"That is a simply marvelous idea!" the blonde young woman exclaimed exultantly. She grasped her friend's hand in a quick squeeze.
"Hmmmm…" was all that came from Cantabella as he placed an open fist to his chin.
"And Espella, you could draw some of the illustrations. I was particularly impressed with those in your sketchbook."
"Ooh, I would love to do that! Giving out handmade books would make our parades so special!"
"So you still like to draw, do you, Espella?" the gentleman mused, his expression growing pensive. "I had almost forgotten about that."
She replied, "Well, I always watched you draw things and I tried it too because I wanted to be like you. Do you remember when we painted my room?" The girl stilled her tongue for a few moments as they recollected the great mess and all the fun they had. "Dad, we are going to take up Eve's idea, right?"
"At the very least we will test it," he said, looking first to one young woman and then to the other. "Though I'm doubtful as to whether you two fully realize the work these stories will entail. After a while a writer's mind begins to feel dried up for lack of inspiration."
"That may be so," the elder of the two girls replied quickly and evenly. "But we'll accept suggestions from townspeople. With more of us involved in the project, it will be harder to let it fall away."
"I can't wait to tell Aunt Patty!" Espella gushed. "I know she'll love the idea too. We'll tell her and Mr. Barnham and have a splendid dinner. Eve, you're wonderful!"
A small smile began to show under the edges of the Storyteller's silvery mustache. "Hmm. I hope she's baked a batch of those butter rolls…"
However, their plans would not come to fruition that night. As they neared the forest-shrouded passageway which would take them to the other side of the great wall, rapid steps and half breathless shouts approached them whence the direction they'd just traveled; around the slight bend in the road came two children. The girl, who had not yet reached the double-digit years, was wholly unsuccessful at keeping up with the long legs of the boy and it was he who reached the trio first.
Eve turned around completely and stepped nearer, holding out her hand as if she were going to stop him. "What is the matter, Eduard?" she required of him, her tone holding a portion of her old authority.
His breath escaping his mouth in heaves, he gasped, "Miss Belduke…you must come! One of the babies…is lost!"
"Oh no…" that young woman breathed. Her eyes grew dark with concern and the corners of her mouth sank with the celerity of a stone.
Espella also uttered a small exclamation of horror as her hand flew to her mouth. The little girl came to a stop beside Eduard; and she was out of breath from more than their exertion; tears leaked from her eyes like the rain that had not long before deluged the land.
The former high inquisitor drew a breath. "Who was lost and where did it happen? Quickly now, tell me!"
"It's Bianca, M-Miss Belduke!"
Both Espella and her father had neared Eve. The gentleman grunted, "A lost child in the forest. This does not bode well." Only his daughter took notice of his words; as she did another tremor of apprehension passed through her.
"Everyone is back in the village!" the boy told them. "They're going out to look for her!"
The girl, by name of Nell, tugged at the dark-haired young woman's hand, and pleaded pitifully, "Please…oh please come!"
But Eve was already moving in that direction, with the boy once more racing ahead, and both Cantabellas following closely behind. They passed by the mansion grounds, which were decidedly more deserted than they had been minutes before; they reached the river and meadow beyond it, noticing several other people ahead of them, all hurrying in the same direction. The activity heightened as they approached the unofficial little village where some of the former shades had decided to remain. Eve and her small party joined the large cluster of people in front of one of the simple but sturdily built houses which were still in the process of replacing the former huts.
"It's Mistress Belduke!" someone said.
A woman cried, "She's here to help us search!"
"The mistress never lets us down!" another person shouted.
"And look who is with her!"
The villagers parted, making a path for them. In the center of the crowd, before the little home, Eve approached a short, slightly stout woman whose apron was lifted to trembling lips. A tow-headed man with splotches of paint on breeches and vest, held one arm around her back. As the former high inquisitor approached, she took the poor mother's hand. Nell threw her arms around her father's leg.
"We will find her, Rhoda," Eve assured her and motioned for a couple of the other ladies to accompany the distraught woman into her home.
"Go with your mother, Nell," the man with the paint stains told her.
With the girl gone, Eve turned to him and the others gathered there. "Has no one begun the search?"
"We've looked around the immediate area but found no trace of her," came the reply.
"It is well you've gathered here," she said. "Another storm appears to be coming our way and we must find her before both it and night comes. How did she disappear? She's not yet old enough to walk!"
"I don't know," Eben, the father of the lost child, replied while chewing his lip. "My wife and others were doing laundry near the river and she left Nell and Bianca to play nearby. Nell thinks her sister was carried away!" He placed a hand over his face.
"All right, then," Eve declared, keeping her voice even. "Everyone will simply have to spread out and comb the area. You'd best search anyplace a baby could hide and listen for any cries. It is possible she crawled away." Possible perhaps, but not entirely probable, she thought. "Most of all, keep yourselves safe as you search."
As the villagers began to head off in all directions, the Storyteller raised his voice. "You need more people for this search. I will send to the town for the knights and any volunteers."
"No!" a man shouted. "We won't have knights here!"
Eben faced the Storyteller with expression that could not match the stern one of the latter. "Mr. Cantabella, we would prefer to carry on this search for ourselves. Please! We have no need for outsiders."
"Hmph," grumbled the white-haired gentleman, his mouth turning down still further. What protest he might have in mind would never see the end of his tongue, as his daughter placed her hand lightly on his arm. Instead, he amended, "Then at least I will help in the search."
The father of the lost girl chewed his lip again. "Ah, well…thank you, sir." Turning away, he shuffled quickly to the edge of the village and onwards, aligning himself with the other men and handful of women in the hunt for his little girl.
Eve turned to her friend and Cantabella. "I am going inside to speak to Rhoda. Then I too will join the search."
"Uhm, Dad, do you mind if I go with Eve?" the blonde young woman asked, raising her eyes to meet his.
His fierce expression melted into something softer as he looked upon her. "Of course not. You be sure to stay with her. She knows this forest well."
Espella leaned into him with the briefest of hugs. "I will," she said, and then hastened to catch up with her friend, who was just entering the house.
The dreadfully anxious mother rose from the wooden kitchen chair as soon as the two approached her. "Oh, Miss Belduke! Y-you will find my little baby, won't you?!"
"Of course. We will find her," Eve replied, her voice calm but her eyes bespeaking apprehension. "Can you tell me what happened before Bianca disappeared? The smallest detail may be of some help."
The woman had begun to wring her hands but as soon as she realized what she was doing she lowered them to her sides and instead clutched at her apron, which was still slightly damp from her earlier activity. "I left Nell and Bianca a distance from where we were doing the laundry—I didn't want them to get into the water. I put Bianca on a blanket and put her toys in front of her. It was almost time for her nap…"
Rhoda brought her apron to her face and therefrom issued the stifled sounds of her grief. One of the other women placed an arm around her shoulders and patted her sleeve with the other hand. Espella drew closer behind her friend and put her own arm in the crook of Eve's; she wished she could do something to really help the misfortunate family.
"I'm sorry," the mother mumbled, lowering the fabric. "My thoughts run wild while I am idle. I-I almost wish I could go out on the search, but…I have to be here when they bring my little girl back."
One of the other ladies said, "You know, Rhoda… I bet all those men'll be hungry as bears when they come back."
"An excellent idea," Eve agreed, her features relaxing slightly. "I will send word to my own kitchen and have them bring some of the stores here for you. Now we go to search for Bianca."
"Thank you, Mistress Eve…"
Espella and her friend went out and found the spot where the baby's blanket was still spread. Its wrinkled edges betokened only that Bianca had squirmed and her toys were either resting on it or just beyond. The sparse grass was only just beginning to respond to its urges to grow and gave no indication of the child being taken or having crawled away; the soil held no further clues.
Eve marched toward the river and the place where the ladies had been washing all sorts of garments. A couple of women were engaged in the task of pulled the forgotten laundry from the collection of large, sun-beaten boulders which lay adjacent to the site of the women's labors. The huge kettles, wooden paddles and crocks of soap flakes still sat on the shore and would ere long be spattered with rain, but who would care about those things when a child was missing?
Both young women moved downstream of the huge rocks where, just a few yards away and around a bend in the river, was the favored swimming place of the children. The only thing they found on the little bit of beach was a halfway demolished sandcastle. Then they climbed the slightly sloping bank and carefully examined the area between the baby's blanket and the woods. Eve could find nothing out of place, not a dropped toy, not a footprint out of place, not a suspiciously broken branch. She pursed her lips and wished she had a magic spell for finding that which was lost.
Espella approached her from behind what seemed to be a hastily put together sack. The younger girl's face was also serious. "There's nothing here, is there?"
"No," the other young woman sighed. "I had hoped we would see something that would lead us to finding her, but I suppose that was too much to hope. What is that you're holding, Espella?"
"Oh, this? I pulled all the toys in the blanket and gathered it up. I thought Mrs. Rhoda would like to have them back."
"Uhm-hm," Eve mumbled, nodding absently. "As we couldn't find anything here, I'll simply have to begin searching with all the others. Are you coming?"
The two girls meandered over much of the forest floor, minutely examining any small area in which a nine-month-old baby could potentially hide; they often crossed paths with another searcher and word filtered to them that no one had yet been successful. Eve's expression never once relaxed and though she would not admit it she was growing terribly worried that something foul had fallen upon the tiny child. Her blonde friend remained at her side, keeping pace as nearly as she could with the makeshift bag. Espella's pet ever followed them on paws as silent as the coming of night; a couple of times she disappeared, padding silently into the brush only to return some minutes later.
After an hour of seeking, all with disappointing results, Espella dropped onto a half rotten, fallen tree; they had been climbing a hill and she felt more out of breath than her friend looked to be. Eve the cat also jumped to join her, curled herself up, and purred contentedly as if she were in front of the fire at the bakery. Meanwhile, her human namesake scanned their surroundings and wondered why there had to be so many trees to obstruct her view.
"Phew…" the younger of the two breathed. "That hill was steeper than I thought! Why…did we come up here, anyway? You don't think the baby could get…up here, do you?"
Eve turned to her and replied, "I doubt it, but by now we can leave no place unchecked. Maybe you should head back now if you're tired and you can give her that bundle you've been lugging with you."
"Are you sure, Eve? I am tired, but I hate to leave you alone to search."
"Do not worry yourself about that. I will be fine. Please tell Rhoda on my behalf that we are covering this land and we will find her daughter."
"Well, if you're sure, okay," Espella said quietly, and then she mentioned a little plan which had been forming in her mind.
"They will appreciate that," the former high inquisitor responded. "Take care on your way back. The storm is nearly upon us and night is not far off."
"You too, Eve."
The blonde young woman easily found her way back to the village, left both bundle and message, and then hastened to the bakery. However, when she returned to the residences of the forest, with a large basket bursting with bread weighing down one arm and her cloak covering her from the smattering of rain beginning to fall, she was not alone. A certain knight, the hood of his own cloak covering his flaming hair, preceded her on the wide path; they in turn were accompanied by two small animals of nearly opposite colors. Cat-Eve pranced sedately by Espella's side, while Constantine raced ahead and barked ferociously at any village animals who dared come within several feet of him.
Under the cover of the trees and with darkness encroaching fast, the homes in the village were only discernable by the slight glow that shone through a few windows. However, Eben and Rhoda's home was lit brightest of all; toward it the duo moved, only to be brought up immediately as a figure in a dark cloak stepped in front of them.
"Who goes there?" questioned a distinctly masculine voice.
"It's me, Espella Cantabella. We bring bread for everyone," the girl said, stepping forward before her companion could quite form a reply. She hefted her basket with some difficulty.
The man behind the challenge turned up the flame of his lantern and raised it to better see their faces through the gloom and misting rain. "Miss Cantabella, you may proceed." The villager lifted his beacon still higher and his own faintly illuminated expression became one of sneering scorn. "…But he is not welcome here."
Barnham's steely gaze remained on the other man. "I come in peace," he returned, his own lips curled downward in the beginning of a fierce frown.
"Please!" Espella cried, her pleading blue eyes appearing almost black in the darkness. "We're only trying to help."
The former shade moved not one centimeter despite the knight's larger physique and inches over him. "Leave," he repeated coldly, ignoring the young lady. "We do not want you here!"
They viewed each other cautiously; their attitudes reminded the young woman of the time she had seen a couple of dogs circling each other for a fight. What could she possible say to stop a confrontation she most desperately wanted to avoid? She choked on a hurried breath, wishing that either Eve or her father were with her, as each would know how to handle the situation. She felt her pet press against her leg and was suddenly more grateful than ever that cat-Eve had defied her usual pattern and ventured into the rain with her.
Constantine growled and his master broke the glare by looking away for a second. "Very well, I shall leave," Barnham said darkly, his brows practically camping over his eyes. "The least you can do is help Miss Cantabella with this basket. 'Twould be callous to ask her to bear all its weight."
The knight produced the covered wicker he'd been steadfastly holding that whole time; it was certainly larger than the one Espella carried in both hands. He pushed its handle into the hands of the unfriendly villager, turned and was quickly lost to the night.
Reaching her destination at last, Espella tapped upon the door partially left open by the last visitor. She entered, followed by the rather young man who still scowled. Rhoda sat again in one of her chairs, while a couple of the other women brought food from the stove to the few searchers who had come for brief respite from the elements. As Espella uncovered the contents of the baskets, the lady of the house managed the most miniscule of smiles and a few words of thanks. While her cat took a spot by the stove, the girl began pulling out the baked goods she and Patty had layered so compactly, and she distributed them to everyone present. The unfriendly challenger accepted a bun with a scowl and quit the house.
"Do you think Nell would like one?" the blonde young woman inquired, casting her eyes about the room. She selected a roll with swirls of dried fruit pulp, an item which was immensely popular with the children of the town.
"She ran into the other room a little while ago," Rhoda replied tiredly, her own gaze once more falling to the table.
Espella's lips dipped in sympathy. "Do you want me to find her?"
"I'm sure she'll be fine. She's probably fallen asleep." The mother rose from her chair and went to stir the stew which was no longer on the open flame.
One of the neighborly women tsked. "Poor young thing. She's just as worried about her little sister as her mother is. She just needs a little time to herself, to get herself sorted out."
The feline pawed at Espella's basket and the girl scolded her gently. "No, Eve. These are not for you, you naughty little thing."
Conversations held in that kitchen were subdued and mostly to ease the discomfort of waiting, Espella noticed as she continued to bestow Patty's finest on the newcomers. Only sometimes was the flow interrupted when someone either knocked upon the door or simply entered without doing so. She thought she'd only been there a short time when she heard a different sound from without; it sounded like someone bumping against the doorframe. As she was closest, she hurried forth and pulled the door open.
"Eve!" she cried.
"Don't stand there, Espella! We're getting wetter by the moment."
The blonde girl drew back hastily, holding the door while her friend hobbled inside, leaning heavily on the arm of a villager. Espella checked to see if anyone else was coming and then firmly shut the door once more. Hurrying to her friend's side, she helped her to seat herself in one of the chairs. The thinly woven thread of conversation had come unraveled and those present gathered around the former high inquisitor.
"Whatever happened?"
"Here, let me take your cloak, Miss Belduke. It is soaked almost through!"
"Are you all right?"
"What a horrid night! Have you found…anything? Anything at all?"
"Yes, what happened, Eve? Are you badly hurt?"
"I shall be fine," replied she. "I stepped wrong in some loose rocks and fell. I wrenched my knee or something." She lowered her cold hands and placed them gingerly on the affected joint, all the while pressing her lips together. One of the ladies brought another chair close for her to prop her leg. "We've searched for miles and have found nothing. I'm so sorry, Rhoda…"
The mother's hand flew to her lips to stifle the cry which flew past the lump in her throat. A couple of her friends put a hand to her shoulder.
Eve also reached up and squeezed Rhoda's hand. "Everyone else is still out there, though I'm afraid I am no longer able to help. They will find Bianca."
"Th-thank you, Mistress Belduke," the woman replied, forcibly swallowing small sob. "You…you have given me fresh hope. I need to think of what else I can do to help, such as finding something cold for your knee."
"That is precisely what I need, thank you. Would someone find me a couple of pillows?"
"Do you want me to get Jean?" anxiously questioned the blonde girl. "It wouldn't take too long if we hurried…"
"No, Espella. All I need do is keep off my leg, elevate it and apply ice."
One of the neighbors finally returned with, of all things, two packages of frozen spinach which someone had ordered from the mainland and forgotten; a couple of minutes later someone else brought in a chunk of ice from the icehouse. Eve packed a much of the cold within a towel which Rhoda handed her, and then put them against her knee. She bit back another hiss as she gingerly lifted her leg for an additional pillow.
Everyone was settling down again, either to talking, sweeping, or checking that the food hadn't grown too cold, but none of that was to last more than a few minutes. One of the women shivered, complaining of a draft. They all looked toward the door and realized that it was indeed slightly ajar. Someone moved around the table to shut it, but she stopped short when childish fingers appeared around the edge of the wood. The hand was followed by a forehead and pair of eyes peeking into the room. The rest of the child's face and body came after, revealing the last person anyone expected to see.
"Nell!" her mother cried. She rushed toward the girl, fell to her knees and first hugged and then shook her daughter. "What in the name of the heavens were you doing outside on a night like this?! Whatever possessed you to do a thing like that?! Do you think I wanted both my girls to be lost?"
"I'm sorry, Mama! I'm s-soorrry! I w-wanted to find her!" the child blubbered.
"Oh, my darling little one…"
Rhoda brought her weeping, wailing daughter near the stove, removed her sodden clothes and wrapped her in a blanket while the other ladies tried to feed the child hot honey tea and bites of bread. Nell sobbed as if her whole world had come to an end; she would not raise her eyes or even hug her mother who continually embraced and soothed her.
"Can you tell Mama what's wrong?" the mother urged, lifting the small chin.
Nell still refused to gaze anywhere but the floor. "Y-y-you'll hate m-me!" she whimpered.
"You know you can always tell me anything, dear child. I'll never hate you."
"B-but y-you don't know w-what I did!" the girl moaned, hiccupping miserably on her sobs. "I-it's my f-fault!"
The woman, already under such a strain that day, felt her heart and stomach drop a few feet and her breath quicken. No matter what dread she might face, she was beyond the point of return. "Nell, tell me what happened. I need to know right now."
Shivering and weeping harder, Nell suddenly raised her arms and threw them around her mother's neck. "I did it! I wanted to f-find some pebbles and I t-took Bianca down to the river. She w-was sleepy and I put her in the b-b-basket sitting there. I forgot her and…and… I came b-back and she wasn't there!"
Every sound within the room, save that of the child's sobs, was quenched as thoroughly as a flame under the rain which drove against the rooftop. Rhoda's face had gone quite pale and she squeezed her eyes shut as she clung to the daughter who could just as easily have been lost; tears formed beneath her lids and made two shiny trails down her cheeks. Even Espella had to blink away the moistness that crept to her eyes; she dipped her head and used a few fingers to brush the drops away.
Eve was first to break the silence when the young girl's weeping lessened. "Nell… Why did you not tell us sooner?" she asked sadly, though she well knew the answer.
"I w-was too scared! I knew everyone would hate me for what I did! That's why I wanted to find her…b-but I couldn't…"
While Rhoda held her daughter, someone exclaimed, "The searchers need to know! Perhaps now they'll be able… Oh, oh!" With that, the speaker grabbed a cloak from one of the hooks and flew out the door; a couple more women followed.
The mother rested her gaze for a moment on Eve; the latter glimpsed therein the despair and endurance, bitterness and love. Eve wished she had not been so foolish to injure her knee so that she could be one to inform the others of this new information and to aid in the search. She looked away, mentally berating herself thoroughly for such a blunder.
Rhoda took Nell into the next room to further comfort her and put her to bed; everyone left in the kitchen could faintly hear the child's sobs until they finally subsided. A murmur of quiet words began to lighten the atmosphere of the kitchen again. A couple of the ladies argued whether they too should go outside to help or remain in the kitchen.
Espella brushed against her friend's arm. "Oh, Eve… That poor little girl. She must have felt so guilty!"
The other young woman nodded slowly, a faraway reflection turning her eyes dark. "She'll be all right. Her parents are good people."
"I sure hope they'll find Bianca now," she said softly, clasping her hands. "I wonder… Eve, how do you suppose Nell found her way back here in the dark? If I were her age I'd be scared senseless of the forest at night with rain dripping everywhere."
"Hmm… Perhaps one of the men found her wandering and led her here."
"But why wouldn't he come to the door with her?"
"I don't know, Espella! He must have had a reason. Perhaps he wanted to get back to the search."
A quarter of an hour later the ladies who had hurried outdoors returned, accompanied by a few more much dampened villagers who were confused as to the suggested whereabouts of the missing child; amongst these was Eben, the front of whose hair was soaked and was dripping down his face. All the new arrivals made the kitchen quite crowded, though most avoided bumping into the chair upon which Eve's leg was propped. Tempers were short and voices rose as stressed adults attempted to figure a solution.
Rhoda came from the other room. "Shhh! You'll all wake Nell with this noise!"
Tow-headed Eben turned to his wife, exhaustion and stress circling his too-bright eyes and his mouth a severe frown. "We may have to wake her to get the truth from her. What is this about her losing our baby on the river?!"
The mother blanched, but kept her lips firm as she replied, "It's true. She told me everything. Please, Eben, we have to search the area right now!"
"What's the use? Do you know how cold that water is?" His eyes were both fierce and tormented. "She can't even walk! What makes you think she could swim?!"
The hush that fell upon the room was as palpable as the scent of rain and of burning stew; none of the neighbors dared make a sound. Rhoda gasped and raised her hand to cover her mouth, her watering eyes bearing the most aggrieved look imaginable. Her husband immediately regretting his words, but as there was no way to retract them he clenched both teeth and fist and turned his head away. Eve named herself an utter fool for getting herself into a position in which she could not mediate between them, and Espella stared with wide eyes and concern written across her features.
At that moment, a nearly thunder-like knock sounded on the outer door, causing at least half the persons present to start. At that moment, the most deplorable task in the world seemed to be to answer the summons, but Rhoda, with a look directed toward her husband that rapidly turned baleful, stalked to the door and drew it open with an anger-fueled flourish. Her eyes turned still harder as she recognized the man who stood without her doorstep.
"You! What do you want? What are you doing here?!" she screamed at him.
Almost as abruptly as the words left her mouth, she averted her face, moved away and leaned over the table, her shoulders shaking. Meanwhile, the visitor hesitated but a second and then stepped over the threshold, feeling rather like he was entering a den of lions ready to leap at him. Peeking from the edge of his hood were a few clumps of ruddy hair which stuck to his skin; the rest of the dark fabric was pulled loosely about him, covering his clothes and a portion of his boots. He cast his eyes around, meeting scowling, distinctly unfriendly faces one after the other, save for Eve and Espella. A dirty white dog crouched low near his master's foot.
The newcomer cleared his throat. "Ehrm…"
Eben advanced toward him several steps. "We have made it clear to you we do not want you here. You are upsetting my wife and I want you to leave, now!"
But Barnham remained standing in exactly the same spot; his eyebrow-lowered gaze, once set on the other man, did not waver. "I cannot leave just yet," he said, without an ounce of added expression.
No sooner had the words slipped from his tongue, than the villager advanced again, raising a clenched fist and making a sound low in his throat. However, before Eben could complete whatever action he had in mind, the knight awkwardly swept back the left side of his cloak with right hand, eliciting shouts and gasps from those who faced him. In the crook of his arm was settled the missing baby. Her eyes were closed and her hair, face and clothes were slightly damp.
"What have you done with my daughter?" the father growled. He raised his fists as if he would strike the knight, but then he looked down at the baby and lowered his hands. Though he still glared with hostility, he dared not lower his defenses for fear of losing his composure completely.
"She merely sleeps, I assure you."
As soon as Rhoda turned and beheld the bundle cradled in Barnham's arm, she gave a little cry. In a trice she was before the knight, gently taking her child into her own arms and whispering, "Bianca, Bianca! Oh, my Bianca!"
She sank to the floor and held her younger daughter tenderly against her breast, rocking slightly. The baby stirred and before raising her eyelids opened her mouth with plaintive cries. The father also crouched, leaning behind his wife and reaching a hand past her shoulder to touch their daughter's head as his eyes hungrily took in every detail of her small face. Every shrill wail seemed to her parents but a beautiful reminder that she was alive and with them once more.
Presently, Rhoda rose from her knees and withdrew to the other room to nurse her daughter. The father remained behind long enough to thank all his neighbors for their help and support for his family; when he turned his eyes briefly toward the doorway, it was closed and the knight was gone, having left only some muddy footprints on the floor and a sense of discomfiture in the minds of nearly every person there.
The villagers trickled from the house like the waters of a small, late-summer creek. The ladies returned to their own homes and the men would also follow after spreading the news to their comrades who still combed the dark and inhospitable woods. The Storyteller was among those to return to the village, his steps slack with fatigue and his clothes more than halfway soaked under his cloak. As he approached the house, his daughter attempted to help her friend hobble therefrom; a task that proved to be difficult for the slight girl. Whenever Eve put weight on her affected leg she winced and bit back a hiss; the blonde young woman was almost in tears for the pain she felt she was causing her.
"Espella, Eve!" Cantabella called to them.
Both girls stopped and the younger of the two cried, "Dad, thank goodness you're here! Can you help us, please? Eve hurt her knee!"
Rather than ask questions which were useless for the moment, the white-haired gentleman traded places with his daughter at Eve's side. Espella shifted the lantern in her hands and held it aloft to guide their way.
"Thank you," the former high inquisitor murmured as she accepted the Storyteller's arm.
"I still don't see why you just sent everyone else home," the blonde girl whispered aside to her friend.
"Espella, hush! After the effort everyone has put forth today I was not about to prevail upon them further. I daresay we would have made it eventually," she returned, grateful at least that the gloom of the night hid the slight, embarrassed flush of her face.
Hardly had they covered some few dozen yards than the lantern light caught in its glow an approaching figure. The pup at his side identified him immediately as he drew abreast of the threesome, his eyes fixed upon only one of their party.
"M-M-Miss Eve! My apologies, but I did not notice before…you are hurt."
"Tell me something new, Barnham," she retorted, shifting to keep her weight on her good leg. "Now if you will kindly move, we are attempting to reach my house."
The knight moved, but not in the direction she expected. "Excuse me, Mr. Cantabella, Miss Cantabella," he said as he drew close.
Espella stepped out of his way and held her lantern still higher as she watched with growing amusement. Barnham bent his knees slightly and, extending his arms, picked up Eve before she could quite anticipate his action.
"Z-Zacharias! P-put me down!" she cried, grabbing involuntarily at the fabric which cloaked him.
He held her firmly, one hand behind her back and the other beneath her knees, though he was very careful to avoid jostling the strained one. "You are injured, Milady. As a knight, I would be remiss in my duty if I left you…erm…that is, if I left any lady in distress without offering assistance."
As she viewed them, a funny little smile sprang to Espella's lips and she quickly lifted her free hand to disguise it. She glanced at her father and though she could see the tiredness evident in his face, she could also tell by the crinkling of lines around his mouth and eye that the situation struck him in much a similar way as it had her. They shared a brief look and she turned away for fear she might laugh right out loud; she reflected that he had an easier time hiding his mirth by merit of his mustache.
"Knight or not I am still able to walk! Put me down at once, Zacharias!" If her face had been pink before, it had since become as red as Espella's cape. She did not struggle, however, as she reasoned that such a display would prove ineffective at best or injurious at worst, and only embarrass her further.
"Now, Miss Cantabella," he said, daringly deciding to ignore Eve's remonstrations. "Please light the way for us."
"Of course!" she replied.
She was thankful for an excuse to turn away from the two former inquisitors so they would not see how she fought to keep a straight face. Her lantern was a lonely, brave beacon against the damp night which suddenly faced her; with no distractions to keep her from her thoughts, she shivered. Drifting nearer her father and searching for his hand through the folds of fabric draped around them brought her some relief from the fears that crept up on her like raindrops sliding down her back.
He switched the non-functional torch he held to his other hand and offered no resistance as she slipped her fingers between his. "Are you cold?" he asked.
"A little," she responded softly, for she never wished to remind him of another dark night when she had walked alone.
Eve, with her cape pulled over her as best she could manage, suffered through the trek to her house in chilly silence. She kept her arms firmly crossed and absolutely refused to look at Barnham, if only because the flush that flamed her cheeks. She rebuked herself harshly for the hundred and eighty-ninth time for that one careless step which had put her in her current, mortifying position. Most exasperating of all was the stray thought which buzzed around her mind like a blasted fly which evaded all attempts to eradicate it; she was keenly aware of her matted, tangled hair dangling loosely in what could not be considered a braid anymore, and she hoped it would not be snagged on bush or errant branches.
Finally they found relief from the cold drizzle when they came under the roof the mansion. Eve once again insisted that she be let down and this time Barnham complied; immediately after, the current inhabitants of her home surrounded her, commiserating over her injury and the beastly night, and helped her up to her room. Espella picked up her pet and accompanied her friend.
The two men, left alone in the downstairs portion of the house, warmed themselves by the fire. Cantabella removed his cape and turned his eye from the fire for a moment. "Barnham, I would like to know what happened. My daughter tells me you located the missing child.
"Er…" the knight hemmed. "I'm afraid it wasn't much, sir."
The Storyteller's gaze on him turned sterner and Barnham quickly swallowed his excuses with a gulp. As simply as possible he recounted how he had started off to search near the river. Constantine, faithful little dog that he was, seemed to have found a scent; they followed its course, roughly aligning itself with that of the river, until they happened upon a little girl, Nell, who tearfully explained to him what she'd done. He'd led her back toward the village and then returned to search the banks for any sign of the babe. If not for his companion, he never would have spotted a basket overturned on the river's shore, sheltered by a great bulging overgrowth of tree roots. The child, possibly having cried herself to sleep under blanket and basket, seemed none the worse for wear and was hardly damp as he picked her gently up and carried her to her parents.
After the knight finished naming only the most important details, the elder gentleman was remarkably silent as he stared into the fireplace and occasionally rubbed his hands before its warmth. Barnham wondered why his superior was so reticent; his only desire had been to help and yet he was beginning to realize he had acted hastily. The last thing he wanted was to widen the rift between the shade villagers and him, the knights or the townspeople in general. Perhaps he should have found someone else to take the child back home instead of doing it himself.
Their thoughts were interrupted by Espella's voice coming from the stairs as she descended with small, quick steps. "Dad, are you still here? Oh good! Can you stay here tonight? Eve says it's quite all right."
Cantabella turned and squinted through the dim, candlelit space between them. "I suppose I will, if that is what you wish."
"Oh, we do! We both want you to stay!" the girl exclaimed, a smile breaking out on her lips. She made to return upstairs, but then seemed to remember something and faced the men again. "Mr. Barnham, thank you for finding lost Bianca tonight. Everyone was so worried!" She moved down the last three steps again. "Will you be going back to the bakery?"
"Indeed."
"Could you tell Aunt Patty everything is all right now? I'm sure she's worried. I'd go too but I want to stay with Eve."
"Of course."
Another expression of gratitude left her lips and then Espella flew up the stairs again. When her friend was settled in bed as comfortably as possible, the other women in the house brought some food for them; both of them had been too nervous and agitated to eat back at Rhoda's. The soup was tongue-scorchingly hot and Espella left hers on the bedside table long enough to take a peek through the window's thick curtains. A patch of light briefly shone on the ground below and then vanished as someone holding a lantern withdrew from the house.
"There's Sir Barnham," she said, turning her head toward her companion.
Eve pursed her lips and otherwise managed to look quite disagreeable at mention of his name.
The blonde girl's mind whirled with thoughts of the day as she absently watched until Barnham, his pup, and the glow surrounding them were lost to the black trees. Upon returning to her friend's side, she smiled to see that Eve stroked the black feline behind the ears as she also waited for her soup to cease burning the bowl which contained it. Espella settled herself on the edge of the bed again and also ran her fingers through her pet's fur.
"I'm so relieved that everything turned out the way it did, aren't you, Eve?"
"Except for my ridiculous accident," the other young woman replied, slowing the motions of her fingers. She sighed. "Aside from that, you could say it came to a satisfactory conclusion."
"Oh yes, I didn't mean your knee of course. I do hope it's nothing serious and will heal quickly!" Espella amended. She continued chattering as she cautiously placed her hand about her bowl. "I'm not sure if everyone was more surprised that Mr. Barnham found the baby or that he came back at all. You could have heard a cricket sneeze in the silence after he came in! Do you think they'll start to treat him differently now?"
"Who can say? People are difficult to change, but given the right impetus just about anything can happen."
The younger of the two gave her friend a sidelong glance complete with a mischievously playful sort of smile. "He was pretty wonderful, wasn't he?"
Eve's gaze seemed to be looking further than the walls of her room; her fingers stilled and she pressed her lips together in the slightest bit of a smile before she made a quiet reply. "Yes, I suppose he was."
I hope you liked this chapter and that the action picked up a bit from the last one. Please let me know if you liked this and what other thoughts you might have.
07-29-2017 ~ Published