Christine dans Deux

An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story

Nyasia A. Maire

© 2006

DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Forty-Four – Let's Ride!

We stand in a dark hall of the château. I release Erik's hands and check on Trystin and Cecile. They are fine and so is our luggage. Lastly, we check on one another.

"You seem very fine to me, my dearest."

"As do you, beloved."

A small sweet kiss.

"Trystin. Cecile. Are you ready to meet my father?"

"All right! I get two grandpas now. Unh huh! Unh huh!"

Erik and Cecile gape with bemused affection and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, I can see you're really going to fit in here, T. Well, lead the way, Erik!"

"Oh come on, mom! I'll be good. Don't worry. I was just being silly."

"T, you've got to be careful. Weird is not wonderful here. Cecile … I mean, CeCe, and Jean-Paul will watch over you, but I don't want you to talking to the servants, okay? They might think you're possessed or something. They're not going to understand your sense of humor. It could hurt their feelings, okay? T, I really need you to turn on your ears. Okay? Do you understand what I just said?"

She stops and turns to me with her beautiful eyes boring into me.

"Mom, I heard and I won't mess around. I promise."

"Thank you, sweetheart. Come here and give your old ma a hug."

She flies into my outstretched arms and we hug mightily. I place a silent blessing on her in the form of a kiss on the top of her head.

"Let's go!"

Erik leads us through the corridors to his father's library. The introductions go very well. So, well that Erik and I are able to depart with only the smallest of clings from Trystin. As I leave the room, I look over my shoulder for a last glimpse of my child. She is happily engaged in conversation with Cecile and Jean-Paul. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, then walk out of the room.

After a quick trip to our rooms to retrieve our saddle bags, we leave the château and walk to the stables. I remain in the shadows and watch as Erik inspects the horses, occasionally silently asking me what I think about a horse. Erik is an accomplished horseman and I grew up riding everything, but English and side saddle. I prefer bareback, but know that would be too unusual for a woman and would not go unnoticed. I decide upon a handsome roan and Erik chooses a dappled mare. At last, all is ready. We lead our horses from the stable and mount in the courtyard.

The winter sun, while still high in the sky, is rapidly moving towards the western horizon.

"Do you think we will make Rennes tonight?" I ask.

"Without any problem at all, ma chére cœur. That is if you can keep up with me."

I see his eyes flash and he raises his brows.

"Do try to keep up, beloved." He winks and off he goes at a trot down the drive to the drawbridge. He hails the keeper and after a few moments, the bridge lowers and we cross.

"It's open road from here to Rennes. It's hilly terrain and the road is somewhat rough, but there is a road all the way. It's about 28 kilometers. We should make it in about two and one-half hours. Ride, beloved! Ride!"

"No, dearest! Fly! Fly!"

We both laugh and ride into our future together. Other than my hike around the château to the drawbridge, this is my first experience of the French countryside. The first thing I notice is the aromatic smell of the trees on either side of the road. The air is brisk and invigorating. The road is rutted and muddy. Navigating its twists and turns, uphill and downhill takes concentration and leaves little time for sightseeing. We alternate between a walk, a canter and a gallop. Erik pulls up suddenly as the road we are traveling on ends and we must travel either left or right. He turns his horse's head to the right and I follow his lead.

The sun is still a few hours above the horizon. We seem to be making good time and the new road is wider and less rutted. My horse longs to run, but I hold him in check. No sense risking him and having him come up lame. The horse's gait is smooth. I rub his neck, lean close to him and speak soft words of encouragement.

"Thatta a boy, Laddygold! Ho! Ha!"

He is a wonderful animal, intelligent, strong and spirited. It's a shame we leave him and the mare in Rennes. I would like to get to know this animal better.

Erik and I race along the road to Rennes. Racing one another and racing the setting sun. The road here is winding and hilly, the roadside densely packed with brush and trees making it difficult for me to tell how far we have gone. I use the setting of the sun as my timer. From what Erik said, we are racing the sun. It will be a close race to see who wins: the sun or us.

The air is definitely growing cold and I pull up the hood of my cloak.

As the last ray of sunlight fades, we round a long, gentle corner and find the city of Rennes before us. Wide avenues and widely spaced buildings present a lovely site. The architecture is a mix of clay, wood timber frame and stone buildings. So different from my world. I wonder what modern day Rennes looks like. We slow our horses to a walk and Erik pulls up so we can walk side-by-side.

""How are you, beloved?"

"My nose is just a little cold. Other than that, I'm fine. This is a beautiful city."

"Indeed, it is. More so now than ever before."

"What?"

"Well, I've never been in Rennes with you before, have I?"

"Why sir! Flattery will get you everywhere!"

We laugh quietly.

The journey through the city takes about 15 minutes and ends in front of a large brown barn.

"Don't worry. The horses will only be here overnight. In the morning, one of the stablemen from Montmuran will be here to take them home. All right? I know you've become attached to Laddygold. He will be all right. I will make certain of that. Stay here, while I make the arrangements."

"Never fear, my dearest. I shall await you right here."

He leads the horses into the barn and after a few moments, returns carrying both of our bags.