Sorry that the response to your reviews did not appear with the last chapters…I must have posted the wrong chapter copy. Thank you for continuing to share as this story develops!
Captain Oblivious: Glomping has become a favorite pastime for you! It is good to see you heeded the warning about Erik's temper…tapping would certainly be forgiven….let us hope anyway for your sake! Yes married…alas the pair could not be kept apart forever…but maybe they shall be parted…..(nothing is quite as much fun as taunting…well…perhaps glomping in your case!) Thank you for pointing out Jiry….I'm afraid my misspelling of names has become quite a flaw of mine. Now, I must confess I've delved into the darker side of my psyche for some of what is yet to come….
Ethalas Tuath'an: No bubble room for this pair…just a temporary haven to shelter them on this all important night!
Glitter Queen of the Ice Show: Yes, the marriage part is quite tricky isn't it…but who could have inserted a priest into this story without it becoming something quite like a story that Bramm Stoker would have penned for Dracula! Chapter 21 Lone wolfRaoul was dressed. He had woken a maid to prepare a satchel of provisions, and a simple breakfast. He tasted nothing as he wolfed down the eggs and biscuits. Hot coffee filling his stomach as his veins coursed with caffeine. His stableman brought his steed to the back door of the kitchen as instructed. Raoul gathering his things, putting on his cloak, slipping his sword into its sheath, walked out the door, mounting the animal gaving two swift jabs to its sides. Raoul disappeared into the distance. Towards the city where his very lifeblood ran.
The sun was barely at the top of the trees now on the East horizon. The air was frightful cold, and tinged with the scent of burning wood. On any other winter morning that would have seemed inviting, very normal. But on this morning, the scent was disconcerting, as all knew it was from the burning remains of the city's pride and joy. All of society would be aghast. What fodder for conversation over morning tea. Ghost stories had always been a titillating delight for the highbrow, and this surely would fan the flames for it. A man, a ghost, an apparition…whatever it was, it would surely be on the tips of everyone's tongues this morning.
Raoul rode into the city, slowing for nothing. He nearly collided with a milk wagon as it careened around the corner on its usual route. He dodged it causing the horse to rear up and topple a few precious bottles of the white liquid on the ground. He continued on past the bakery, the newspaper, the council office. Coming to a halt in front of the police office. Finding the door locked, he began to beat on it with great force. A weary man, still in his bedclothes, answered the door. Peeking out, nightcap still atop his head, blinking trying to acclimate his eyes to the growing light.
"Why are you not up man, we must begin the search, where are your men?" Raoul demanded an answer, scanning the horizon eagerly with his eyes. "Monsieur, it's wee early in the morning, they are at home in their beds, where you should be." The officer snapped back, obviously agitated now that he'd been taken from his slumber. "The wicked never rest, nor shall we…we must begin immediately, lest we give that monster any further opportunity to wage his war on this city and its citizens." The officer looked down, shaking his head. He never moved from the door or offered Raoul admittance.
"The men are in bed. I'll not disturb them. It is not yet fully morning, and many were out with you late into the night, they need to rest. You've found nothing, it's obvious he's escaped. I know you long to rescue your precious fiancé, but from the sounds of things, she wasn't exactly taken against her will."
With that Raoul flew into an angry rage. He mounted his horse, glancing back at the man in the door. "As soon as your men have had their beauty rest, send them into the caves to meet me, and make sure they bring their precious whiskey and bread so they have no excuses to leave this time." Raoul galloped off toward the Opera House, a dusting of snow rising from the beat of the horse's hooves.
"The law in this city explains the crime rate," Raoul thought to himself. He would search alone. He was neither afraid of a man-made ghost, nor the man behind the legend. Christine would not forgive him for allowing her to stay with that monster for an entire night. She would feel betrayed, abandoned, full of despair. Raoul was unaccustomed to letting his emotions get to him. The wet of the tears freezing quickly to his cheek.
Coming to the side of the Opera House, he was greeted by two firemen. "Vicomte De Chagny, good..I mean…morning to you sir. Why are you back so early? The fire is nearly out now, but I'm afraid it will be near a total loss on the lower levels sir." The two fireman looked at one another as Raoul dismounted. "I'm not concerned for this structure, it can be repaired. I must go inside to see if anyone is left there." Raoul was straightening his jacket, handing the lead to his horse over to one of the men.
"Monsieur, I am quite sorry, but it is not safe for you to go in, I can assure you that we have checked thoroughly, and no one is left inside. Had they been, they would have been consumed by the fire, overcome by the smoke, or drowned in the water from our wagons." Raoul looked at the man, "I must go in, our prize new soprano is missing. I am certain that she is being held captive, awaiting rescue, it is my duty as patron.."
The older of the two men stepped forward, putting a firm hand on Raoul's shoulder. "Sir, I know that she was your fiancé. She had the voice of an angel, and the beauty to match Sir. This is a great loss…I have compassion for your anguish, having myself lost a wife to tragedy, I know it is very difficult."
Raoul looked wide eyed at the man standing there, a father stand-in trying to comfort him in his loss. Raoul's face paled, he felt dizzy, his heart sinking at the realization that what this man spoke might indeed be true. "Young Sir, take rest in the café across the street, it's just opened its door for business not half an hour ago. We will go back in and poke around a bit, and come to report to you as soon as we are able." Raoul nodded in agreement. The other man led his horse back to the stables in at the rear of the Opera House. Aside from the pungent smoky scents in it, it was largely untouched by the ravages of the fire.
Raoul felt like the walking dead. A shell with no soul. His coat hanging open, the icy chill of the piercing wind reaching beneath it like steely fingers digging in for the warm flesh it hungered for. He walked slowly, mechanically, toward the café. In the early morning light the shopkeepers window looked warm and inviting, though Raoul was certain no morning beverages would quell the sorrow that was rising within him.
He pushed the door open, the hinge creaking, and the scraping of wood on wood of the uneven door. A bell clinked above him to alert the shopkeeper that he had company. "Good morning to you Sir" said the scruffy old man behind the counter. "A bitter cup this morning for ya?" The man smiled a half-toothy smile. Raoul stood looking at him and then walked over and sat at one of the small tables in the corner, being certain to place himself where he could see the front doors of the Opera House.
"Right big fire they had there last night. No one died from what I hear, but who knows with a blaze like that. Might be days before someone comes to claim their loved ones who never came home." The man was walking toward Raoul now, cup in one hand, heavy kettle in the other. He sat the cup down on the table and poured the steaming hot liquid up to the rim. "You be needing any cream, sugar?" Raoul shook his head no. The man went back to the stove and sat the kettle back down.
"Yes, this will sure be hurting the businesses round here, we relied on those guests to keep us going most days. Who knows if they will even fix it up, or if anyone would return if they did considering that monster and all." Raoul looked curiously at the man. "Monster?" Raoul inquired. "You know that masked monster that they say roamed the halls at night, stealing food, drinking blood, or whatever he did there. Very few ever dared to see him and live to tell of it. They say one night a whole horse went missing!"
The man's eyes now wild in the heat of telling a story. One could tell that he was crafted at spinning a yarn. He moved toward Raoul's table, brining his heavy pewter cup along with him. "He terrorized any that dared enter his world. He was strange, and terrifying they say." The man shook his head as he sat in the chair across from Raoul's without invitation. "Odd that a monster would take a fancy for the noise of the opera. No offense sir, but it sounds like a bunch of lasses stepped on broken glass and started howling."
A fleeting smile broke across Raoul's face. "They say he watched from Box 5, though no one ever saw him there. Then the next day some would get letters telling them what they could do better." He laughed. "A ghost critic."
Raoul's face returned to the stony gaze as he looked upon this man, who all could tell ina brief glance had been around a good number of years. "No one really knows where he came from or why he stayed here. I don't recall hearing of him as a child, but then what do children believe of such frightful fables."
Raoul took his first drink of coffee. It was indeed bitter, but the heat of it felt good on his throat. "Did you ever see him….the Phantom." Raoul asked. "No Sir, not to my reckoning. One night though, I was at my shop and I heard some noises in the back alley. I'd put the trash and some old crates back there. I went to the screen and peeked out. The crates were gone, and I saw a cape fluttering around the corner, then it disappeared. Don't know if it was him, but sure mighta been." The man had a distant look in his eye, as though he was talking about meeting the King himself.
"I guess I'd say I've been right lucky. Some of the shopkeepers talk about finding things missing from their shops, and mysterious pieces of silver lying in their place. At least he's not a robber! I've always just put a paper bag with some breads in the back alley, and in the morning they're gone. Don't know who I might be feeding, but at least I've not found my shop broken into!"
Raoul sat listening to the man for nearly an hour. The stories seemed to get larger as the light rose and coffee cooled. "Good sir, thank you for the coffee, I must be on my way, how much can I leave for you?" "No, no, sir, this has been my treat. Not many customers roaming the streets this morning, I enjoyed the company." Raoul smiled and thanked the man one last time, walking toward the door. He turned as he opened the door. "Good sir, may I ask a favor of you?" "Why of course." The man responded. "Tonight, please leave the same bag of bread behind your shop." Raoul took out a few coins from his pocket and laid it on the table by the door. "I'll pay you for your troubles."
"There's no need to pay sir, I would do it anyway." "No, I insist. It will be as a favor to me if you are willing to oblige." The man nodded and took the coins and put them in his pocket. Raoul walked out of the shop, and back towards the Opera House. The man chuckled to himself. "Paid for something I would do anyway…at least it makes up for the lack of business this morning." The old man walked to the back of his shop and peered out the door. The brown bag he'd placed outside last night was still there this morning. Maybe the Phantom had perished in the fire, he thought to himself.
Raoul looked across the street at the lone fireman still warming his hands on the dwindling fire. The other man had indeed gone inside as he said. Raoul was unaccustomed to sneaking around, as in his position, that was unacceptable behavior. However, in this instance, he knew of no other way to gain admittance.
Raoul scoured the street for a stone. Finding nothing but a loose and crumbling brick, he discreetly put it under his cloak. Strolling in the other direction, down the line of the shops away from the Opera House. Once behind the blacksmith's shop, he turned to check the whereabouts of the fireman. Still warming his hands, and staring into the fire. "Good" Raoul said under his breath. With all the force he could muster, Raoul heaved the brick as far as he could. It landed with a large thud near the front door of the Opera House. The fireman looked up, not being able to see the front door, he left his post and ran toward the front of the building. This was Raoul's opportunity.
Raoul wrapped his cloak tightly around him, he ducked as low as he could making his way swiftly to the side door. He slipped in quickly, pulling the door closed behind him. He was inside now, how long or how far he would have to go, he did not know, but he would search ever inch of the space below the Opera House, until he either found her, or knew that she was gone. Praying the latter would not be true.