Erik had anticipated that the ride would be hard and indeed, it had included no less than three spills the sled having overturned, and an injured dog now rode on the sled between he and the driver.
His arms ached from hanging on to the sides of the sled, trying to balance his weight as the sled shifted back and forth as the wind blew at them. They could see but ten yards in front of them, and save for the tree line that the driver had wisely been following, Erik would have had no idea where they were.
As they passed a tree that had been topped by a storm earlier that spring, Erik knew that they were on the very outskirts of Chauesser. He carefully pulled his pocket watch from his pocket, it was noon. It had only taken them a little more two hours to travel the three miles. Considering the conditions that was very good he thought. He returned the watch to his pocket, just in time.
As they left the tree line they were hit by a gale, overturning the sled once again. "Are you alright sir?" The man called out to Erik. "Yes, I am fine." Erik said, wiping the snow from his face yet again. "Let's get it turned over, then you'd best get these animals home again, the storm looks to be getting worse."
The man nodded, rewrapping the scarf over his face as he and Erik struggled to get the sled turned upright again. Erik's side ached, and he knew he'd done too much, but there was little choice in the matter. They were once again on the sled, Erik stroking the animal who was now whimpering between them. "There boy, you'll be home soon." Erik looked down at his paw, it was bloodied and raw, but it would heal.
It was a few more minutes and Erik could see rooftops as they quite literally slid into the city. Chauesser looked like Pompeii; a great city buried to the rooftops. No houses, just a few feet of windows and rooftops between the swirled drifts. He shook his head. The woman was no doubt taken in by some other family who even now had her warm and safe, but he'd search anyway. If nothing more, he'd make his way to the tavern and find out where Nicole lived. Perhaps she'd returned home, though he doubted it.
The man nodded at Erik, "where would you like me to take you sir? My home is that way." The man pointed toward a path leading out of the city.
"To the center of the town sir, then be on your way." The man nodded, cracking the whip one last time as they made there way down the street. They passed the mercantile, and the bank, and had gone as far as the park when Erik tapped the man on the shoulder.
"This will do sir." He called out, but he was nearly drowned out by the howling winds. The man nodded, handing him a pair of snow shoes that Erphan had given him. Then he paused, and handed him a silver flask. "This will keep you warm sir." Erik looked at it hesitantly at first, but then took it. He hoped he'd not need to use it, but it was wise to have in case he did. He nodded to the man.
"Do take care." Erik leaned down scratching the dog behind the ears, and patting his side. He whimpered and licked Erik's hand. "I shall be needing a ride back to my home if the woman is found sir, but if not, and the weather remains fowl, I shall stay at the Inn sir, the one by…"
The man was nodding, "yes, I know it well. Nicole is a friend of my daughter sir, that is why I agreed to venture out today."
Erik nodded, it made perfect sense to him now. "Thank you sir," Erik said as he stood at the man's side, trying to get his footing on the snowshoes. The man nodded, and yelled, MUSH! The sled lurched forward, leaving Erik standing alone in the middle of the street.
Erik looked around. He'd start at the Inn. If nothing was known there, he'd inquire as to their residence, and move his search from that point. He'd come to do what he could. That was the easy part, the actually doing it would be more than difficult. He started off toward the Inn. He'd not worn snowshoes in a great long time and it took a bit of finesse to reacquire the skill, though in two blocks time he'd mastered it.
XXXX
Madame Giry sat across from Nadir next to Meg. The four of them tarried with the pot of tea, and half-eaten rolls between them. They'd just finished laughing over an exchange of stories they'd had about snowball fights that each of them had engaged in during their youth.
It had been the only time that Raoul had ever been punished when he was at preparatory school. He'd hit a boy in the ear, causing him to shed but a few drops of blood. His father, feeling Raoul had sullied his family's fine reputation for engaging in such activities, had punished him by sitting him down with the dictionary, making him write definitions from it for whatever word had come to his mind.
"I think that is the longest my father and I ever spent in one another's company when I was that age. He'd banished the rest of the family to other rooms of the house, and he and I sat in the library from the time he'd brought me home until it was time for bed. No supper for the wicked he'd said, as he watched me over his desk with great zeal whilst he devoured his dinner and I wrote. I dare say there were words that I'd not heard, nor have I heard since. Really, do tell, when does one use the word zither, magnanimous, or filches?" Raoul laughed. "It is an adolescent memory none-the-less I suppose."
The laughing subsided, and a silence filled the room. No one knew exactly how they'd spend the day, though this wasn't entirely un-enjoyable.
Madeline arrived, providing a distraction. They'd known she was busy, but it wasn't until she beckoned them to join her in the dining room that they could see what she'd been up to all morning. She set out a feast for them. Five place settings, assuming that Raoul's father would join them at some point. The table was filled with a variety of sweet, and a tureen of what proved to be the most heavenly beef stew that she'd made since last fall.
"I do not hope you mind at all, that I've displayed everything at once sir?" She said as Raoul came to rest in his chair.
"Not at all Maddie, no doubt you've much work to do to prepare for everyone. Do not worry, we can serve ourselves. You go have a bit to eat yourself. Sit, rest a few minutes before everyone else comes in to fetch their dinner." Raoul said smiling at her. He'd known she'd been doing the best she could considering everyone else was outside.
She smiled at him. "And a plate of those cookies sir, for you here on the buffet when you're ready." Raoul smiled, "thank you Maddie, now you go." He said shooing her from the room.
Raoul stood at the table, offering grace and then taking up each soup bowl and filling it at the tureen handing it back to each one. The bread had been neatly sliced by Madame Giry, and Meg and Nadir had taken it upon themselves to put dishes of the winter fruits in the saucers that Madeline had set by the plates. When all was ready they sat down to a most agreeable meal. The warm stew was a perfect treat on a day like today. It was a treat considering with any fortune at all, a week from now the snow would be entirely gone, and in its place a slew of mud. Today they would try to enjoy what would surely be winter's last hurrah.
XXXX
Outside of the kitchen Madeline had just helped the rest of the men load the large pots of stew onto the sled. The assorted breads and rolls loaded into baskets, along with a number of pies, and a cake for dessert. They'd have their own coffee, so she'd not had to worry for it. She shivered as she closed the door, returning to her own lunch in the kitchen.
She sighed as she sat down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. Everyone would be fed, and she'd have a few hours before she'd have to tend to supper preparations. She dipped her spoon into her stew. Indeed, it was a good one she thought as the broth crossed her tongue. For her this was pleasure. Knowing she'd done her job, and that everyone was at the moment content, she could ask for little more in terms of reward. She'd been doing what she was born to do, and it suited her.
XXXX
Christine did not need to be proper. With no guests expected, and today, her skin felt a bit more tender than usual. The fabric was decidedly not very flattering, but she'd no one to impress…today, comfort could be the rule, not the exception.
She set her mind to going through the many sheets Erik had brought from the mercantile. They'd need three of everything just to be certain. She'd start with selecting a crib she thought. But then there was something entirely sad about separating the little ones when they'd grown so accustomed to being together. Perhaps the first crib would be a rather large one…one that they could all fit in together. But then again they'd wake one another other…hmmm…Christine instinctively rose, she'd go and ask…. She found herself laughing, then a melancholy took over her. Madame Giry wasn't there, nor was Sara, the only women she'd have felt comfortable asking such a seemingly silly question.
She missed Madame Giry terribly, and Meg. Suddenly Christine felt very, very, alone. She decided perhaps visiting with the maids in the kitchen was preferable to sitting up in her room alone. Erik would no doubt approve. Christine smiled. She'd need to find that book he'd been reading. His ideas were new and forward thinking…and dared say she was intrigued by it. What truly was the essence of transcendentalism? And who was Walden? If she and Erik were to be of like minds, she'd have to at least read what he'd read, so she could understand. Yes perhaps after her visit with the maids she'd set about looking for the book, he had to have it there somewhere.
Christine was walking down the stairs, pausing to look out at the snow through the large ornate windows on the landing between the first and second stories. Erik had set each pane in the stained glass himself. One of his numerous projects over the years, when he'd visited there on his way back and forth from visiting Nadir. He told her of it with great fondness as he gave her a tour of it in the moonlight.
The blowing and swirling snow concerned Christine, she raised a silent prayer, "let them be safe Lord, let them be safe."
Just then, Christine heard the grandfather clock in the study below chime twice. She smiled, thinking of her own father, it was like he was speaking to her. It was two o'clock, certainly they would have arrived by now. She slid her hand over her stomach, "daddy is very brave my dears, very brave indeed. I hope that you have his courage when you grow." She rubbed her hand along the tiny lump once more and smiled. He'd come back to her, he'd promised.
She turned and was heading down the steps when a sharp white light flashed before her eyes, and everything turned toward black. Christine, in her last seconds of consciousness grabbed onto the banister, sitting herself down on the stairs, leaning against the rail.
She was soaring, flying high into the swirling snows, traversing great distances in a few seconds time. She was soon in a city, it looked like it might be Chauesser though she couldn't say for sure, the snow obscuring her view. Suddenly she found herself inside a small structure, exposed beams, old trunks, discarded treasures from a life long past. She was walking towards a small pile of old horse blankets. As she approached, she saw a face, a non-descript face of an elderly woman. As she stood watching she saw the woman's face begin to glow, and the flesh that had been wrinkled was smooth and supple, her hair growing dark…she began to look like Nicole, Christine thought to herself. Suddenly Christine realized who it was she was seeing, and it was as if that recognition catapulted her back to the stairs at the winter house in an instant.
She was sweating profusely, the maid was calling out her name through the fog of her mind. "Madame…Elizabeth…can you hear me?" Christine could hear her though she couldn't respond just yet. "Oh dear, the master's just left, he'll not forgive himself if something's happened to her." The maid was panicked. She was patting Christine's hand, reaching up tapping at the sides of her cheek.
Christine struggled, she needed to get back….she gasped. "She's in the attic Erik, she's…." Her eyes flew open. Within inches of her face sat the young maid who'd been tending to her.
Another had joined her just behind, bringing a cool damp cloth to dab at her forehead. "Who's Erik mum?" Christine's eyes fluttered. "A friend no doubt," the one maid said to the other. "Here, let us help her to the divan in the parlor." "NO, I'm sure she'd prefer the one in the library, there's blankets, and a lovely view of the front of the house there." The other said.
Christine found their conversation a bit irritating, she'd make up her own mind. "Ladies, I'm quite capable…" she said, though her knees betrayed her as she tried to stand. Perhaps she was a bit more spent than she'd thought. "I should like to go to the study. I've a book I'd like to find, perhaps one of you could assist me?" Christine leaned on the young girl's shoulder as they walked along the hall toward the study.
"Thank you Misty. I suppose I should be looking into a proper breakfast shan't I." She said laughingly. She could hardly tell any of them what was on her mind…she only hoped that Erik would look in the attic, it is where he would find her, she was certain of it. She'd had half a mind to send Erphan into Chauesser to find Erik, to help him, but she didn't want to risk another life in this storm. Certainly Erik would be thorough, it was in his nature to be such.
Misty assisted Christine to the divan, quickly going to tend to stoking the fire as the room was a bit chilly. "Now mum, what book is it that you be looking for?"
Christine bristled just slightly, Erik was indeed right, they'd need to brush up on English and grammar.
"It is a book that Er…Stephan has been reading. A book by Walden…do you know it?
Misty smiled. "I don't mum, but I think I might know where he keeps it, I've seen him opening and closing this drawer whenever he's coming or going from this room mum. Perhaps it is in here."
Christine glanced over to where Misty stood. She looked at the girl who was smiling politely at her. Christine just stared, she'd no idea why Misty simply stood there smiling at her, and then…it dawned on her. "It is alright, I'm supervising you, please do have a look." Misty smiled at her reaching out to pull on the drawer but it would not open, it was locked. "I'm sorry mum, he's locked it. Perhaps we could look around on the shelves, I was probably mistaken."
Christine stood walking over to the drawer, rattling at it. It was indeed locked. She wondered whatever he would keep in there that he would keep it locked. Certainly it wasn't money, he'd a special hiding place for that, he'd already shown her. And the keys to the other things that were locked, he'd shone her those as well. This one, was something he'd not mentioned. She was all too curious, but she'd not pry, there was a reason for it, or it would not be locked. She shook her head, still, it was odd that he'd never spoke of it, and she'd never seen him in the drawer. If Erik needed his privacy, then she should grant him that. He'd given her access to everything else in the household, denied her nothing. Yet she wondered. Something told her that she might learn more about the man she loved from the contents of that drawer than from all the fragmented conversations they'd had about his past. She shook her head, she couldn't, she wouldn't, it was his privacy, she'd have to learn to respect it.
"Mum?" Misty stood looking at her. Christine looked up politely. "Yes, I suppose, he's likely to have it somewhere else. Perhaps I'll have to wait and inquire when he returns." Christine took Misty by the arm, still a bit unsteady on her feet. "Come, let's go to the kitchen. I believe I saw a bushel of apples on the counter, and I am assuming you're up to making something entirely wonderful from them. It's been a long while since I've baked anything, would you mind terribly if I helped you?"
Misty's eyes grew wide. "Not at all mum, whatever you wish." She smiled at Christine as they left the room. Christine took one last glance over her shoulder at the desk. The drawer hid a treasure, she just knew it.
XXXXX
The winds howled, swirling around the little snow cave that had become his temporary home. He'd managed to start a rather small fire, though the winds threatened to blow it out at every turn. He'd put the horse on the other side of the carriage so it wouldn't spook from the fire hissing and crackling as the flurries of snow flew over the top of it. He'd warmed a bit of coffee and some of the meats that were in the basket that had been packed for him.
He wondered how he'd ever found himself in such a place. How desperate his life had become. Why couldn't he simply have been born a poor man's son, working on a farm? Or the son of a blacksmith, a tailor, anything would have been preferable to his present plight. His whole family gone…and nothing but the gut wrenching need to avenge them to keep him company. He gritted his teeth, pulling the blanket up further around his ears. This couldn't last for days, it had to let up, it was spring after all.
When first he could move about, he'd find a farm, a hot bath, and whatever else he needed for he and his horse. He'd no money, no funds to procure any of it, but if he'd not be given it freely, then he would do what he'd always done…take it anyway.
XXXX
DeChagny flung the blankets off of him, he'd warmed himself far too much in his room, and now he was a sweaty mass of flesh. He stretched, wide awake now, and no dream as he'd hoped for to comfort him. The house creaked and moaned as the storm seemed to batter it from all sides. He stood, walking over to the window to look outside. He rubbed his hand across the frost-covered pane. Outside he could see Raoul's staff busily working to keep the path between the house and the stable open. They'd put the horses back inside with the heaviest work now done. They worked with shovels to keep the path open. He was entirely glad that he was a man of position, and didn't have to be out in that cold shoveling that snow in the howling winds.
He scratched at his stomach as he stretched, then he patted it. He had grown rather hungry. He picked up his pocket watch from the table next to his bed. "Three o'clock," he said to himself. "How shameful, I've slept the day away." He grumbled disgustedly. No doubt his body had needed the sleep more than the sustenance, even more than he realized. He walked over to his armoire. He'd dress and go downstairs. It was too late for lunch, and far too early for dinner, but he'd no doubt he could find something to nibble on. That was the one benefit in being in a busy household, food of all kinds were available in abundance at nearly any hour.
XXXX
Erik pulled himself along, trying to shield his face as much as he could until he'd finally made it to the tavern where Nicole worked. It had been several blocks only but it felt like miles in that excruciating bitter wind.
There had been a small set of make-shift stairs carved into the snow, no doubt by the stable boys who huddled by the door. It made traveling down the side of the snow mound much less difficult. Erik paused at the crest, removing his snow shoes, nearly being blown down into the gully on his head by a northerly gust that pushed down between the buildings.
He lashed the snow shoes together and slung them over his back. The two boys came to his aid as he maneuvered himself down the stairs. "Good day to you sir…if you are in need of lodging I'm to tell you that the Inn is full, but there is one just down the way that…"
Erik held up his hand. "No need young man, I've come looking for Nicole, is she here?"
The two boys looked at one another. "No sir, haven't you heard, her grandmother's gone missing, I'm quite afraid she's gone out looking in this weather…she and her mother."
Erik looked at the ground. He didn't know where to go from there. He didn't want to waste precious time searching places they'd already been. "Has she stopped here, does anyone know where she's been, where they were going?"
The one boy started nodding, "why yes, as a matter of fact, she'd told Mr…." Erik nodded, thanking him as he walked by him on his way inside. He knew just who he'd be looking for.
XXXX
Nicole and her mother had made it as far as the church. There was a small gathering of farm folk who'd been stranded in town and had neither the means nor the desire to stay at one of the overcrowded inns. They'd holed up with the reverend in the rectory. That is where Nicole and her mother now found themselves warming by the fire. It was entirely peaceful there, a smallish group of about eleven people, not including them. They'd not much food, but offered what they did have. Nicole and her mother were grateful that they'd already eaten, so as not to deprive this group of what foodstuffs they did have for themselves. They'd already discussed eating the communion bread and drinking the wine if it came to it. They were entirely certain, that under the circumstances, God wouldn't mind.
After the reverend had said a prayer over Nicole and her mother for their safety and for that of the grandmother, they sat quietly around the fireplace.
Among the group there were three small children and two adolescent boys, one girl, and two sets of parents. They had been reading bible stories all morning to pass the time. Not that they minded it at all, but they'd thought it would be nice to hear someone else speak for a time, so they began asking questions.
"How old is she?" one little boy ventured. "Does she know her way home?" another asked. The questions came and went most answered, some not, until the parents hushed them. It was obvious that it was painful enough to have her missing, but to go through a grand inquisition was just as trying. They decided it would be entirely more productive for them to try to help by devising a plan, rather than simply sitting there doing nothing.
"I'm happy to draw a map for you, if you'd like. It might be difficult now with the snow so deep, but generally, it will be true. We can mark off on there the places you've already been, and the places you think she's likely to go. Then it will be easier to decide where to go next, and where you might warm up on the way," one man said to Nicole's mother.
Nicole moved the hand she'd been using to warm her nose. Perhaps it was a favorable idea. They'd simply been wandering from place to place, and it was not at all efficient. With time passing quickly, and the weather so foul, it made sense to have a plan, lest the day slip away from them.
Nicole went with the man over to the reverend's desk. He'd already cleared it for them, and now had several large sheets of parchment on top.
The man sat down looking up at Nicole. "I'm truly sorry for this miss, she was a happy old woman, and I can tell that you loved her dearly," he smiled pitifully at Nicole, and then turned his head to his work. He'd dipped the pen in the ink well, placing the point on the parchment drawing the first of several long lines. "This is main street here." He said pointing to it. Nicole nodded. She was grateful. Though the man couldn't leave his family, his wife was with child and not well, he'd do what he could to help find her grandmother.
Author's Notes:
PhantomFan13: I do like Julia. I noticed another one of our Phamily stated that she'd been referred to as Antoinette in some of the other stories Perhaps I'll have to do some Leroux surfing to find out if she did indeed have a first name…I'd forgotten about that.
I do love musicals of all types, though I must say I once attended an "interpretive" musical on the eve of my birthday one year. A friend and I went out for a lovely dinner at a Jazz club in the city, which we'd planned to revisit for a cappuccino after the musical. As it turned out, the tickets that this friend purchased were to an interpretive musical. I must tell you if you ever see "interpretive" in front of the word musical, run in fear. It was nearly the three most excruciating hours of my life, and once we were done with what was to be a two-hour production, turned to three, the club had closed, so we'd no cappuccino to soothe our souls! So, yes musicals, but I must say I'm much more careful about reading the fine print now! LOL.
As for the four little productions at school…look at it as a new adventure. Think of it this way, you'll have four opportunities to play four different characters, and embrace four different plays instead of one! It might be much more enjoyable than you imagined!
Moulin Rouge, yes, it's on my list for the few hours of sleep-deprived madness that I have scheduled for Friday evening!
PhantomsRogue: As ever, you are right. 'Interview' did provide a gothic opportunity to look at the different types of vampires that there were. So many assume that they would all be like Lestat…for he was to be the quintessential vampire. Just as in any society, they too had outcasts, one's like Louis who could not abandon what moral strings he'd attached to his heart. It made his character nearly as gut wrenching as the Phantom, perhaps in some ways more so, because he would go on forever, no hope of ever becoming mortal again, no way of seeking forgiveness, of being redeemed. Perhaps that is why our little story has become so important to me…we are slowly, layer by layer, redeeming the Phantom…
Thank you for the warning about the one scene in Moulin Rouge. Yes, that sort of thing does tend to bother me, but as long as I'm prepared, I can manage to work through it…thank heavens for remote control! I will be looking for all you suggested. I feel like I've just had an "insiders" preview!
Also, thank you for the 'heads-up' on the name for Madame Giry. I'll have to check Leroux, perhaps he did make mention of her first name, and I'd simply neglected it somehow!
Poetzproblem: Thank you for the compliment on the chapter. Yes, we do get a bit more insight into Erik as a youngster…And yes, as Erik has evolved his is becoming a bit more "selfless" as you said. Though I think in this case, he has a very serious ulterior motive for wanting to save this woman. He wants to know why she'd addressed him by that name, of all names….he loathes the name DeChagny and the two men who he knows of that have it.
More evidence of Meg and Raoul coming closer together, yes…