The sled had been pulled to the front of the tavern the last distance by the men. Quickly they'd dismounted. Everyone in the tavern was on their feet as they heard and then saw the first of them come down the bank of ice-crusted snow.
The first they carried in was Nicole. A general cheer rose as they saw her, though they quickly quieted as they saw her condition, she was nearly blue. Second, they carried in her mother. Her face had a bit more fleshy tone, though she too lay motionless.
They waited with baited breath as they saw the next carried down. Far too small to be the man they'd assumed it would be…they gasped as the men came through the door…she'd been found! The room erupted in a cheer. There the elder woman, her skin already looking a bit pink lay now on the bed they'd prepared for another.
The room fell silent. "What of the man?" The one stable-boy said as he looked at the door and back at the man who'd laid the old woman on the cot.
He shook his head, "we'll bring him in, but we've little hope for him." The room was silent. They watched as four men carried Erik in. His cloak completely covered in snow and a layer of crumbling icy sleet. The group scrambled to put down additional blankets for him directly in front of the freshly kindled fire.
The doctor met them at the door, grabbing his wrist straight away. He gasped. A relieved expression crossed his visage. "He's a pulse…I can feel his pulse." The assemblage of staff quickly attended their duties, covering, disrobing, adorning frozen flesh with dry clothing, blankets, using warm damp rags to gently relieve the pallor of their skin.
The crowd moved back out of respect; giving the women their needed privacy. Though modesty was greatly outweighed by the want of sheer survival. In a few minutes they were all redressed and nestled beneath blankets. The fire sufficiently stoked as full as it could be. The doctor himself had sweat beading on his from the heat of it. He'd made his rounds, Erik receiving his first attention.
Erik's pulse was growing stronger, though his respiration wasn't what it should be. Each limb had been inspected with great care. Thankfully the preparations of saw and vodka had proved unnecessary.
Nicole was the first of them whose body began to shudder as it warmed. She'd had the greatest final exposure, thereby giving her the most intense chill of the four. Though none could be certain, they knew they'd been out in that weather for well over an hour….the man and the grandmother far longer.
The girl that sat next to Nicole now was the sled-driver's daughter. She'd come in with her father to be with Nicole. She'd not imagined that she would be tending her as she did now, but she would do anything for her friend even if it meant holding her hand through the worst of it.
Nicole's mother had opened her eyes. She wasn't certain that she shan't be dreaming. Until the maid noticed her awake and brought over a cup of hot soup, she thought she might be imagining the warmth. She'd been sat up partially. She endeavored to speak, but they quieted her swiftly.
She could not refrain… "he found her…the man found her…I do not know where or how…I know only that we found him with her in his arms…thank God for that man or she'd have been lost."
The maid made her way swiftly to the innkeeper relaying the woman's words. He set out to report to the group who awaited any news in the next room. A general cheer could be heard as they rejoiced in his triumph. He had accomplished what they themselves had been far too concerned for their own lives to do.
Erik's eyes fluttered at the din. His first glimpse was that of a young man leaning over him, "do you hear that sir? That cheer is for you!"
Erik inhaled and exhaling by degrees….closing his eyes once more. They'd been found…she was there…they were alive…he could rest…he was so very tired. He'd rest and then return to his Christine.
The doctor had cleaned and prepared the bloodied scrapes on Erik's torso. They were neither large nor threatening, no doubt from the ice and snow he'd covered. The great mass of blood that had soaked his clothing, had indeed not been his own.
The doctor was most concerned now with the old woman. The blood that covered both the man and old woman, was the result of a deep wound. A rather large shard of glass was buried deep within the woman's side. He hoped the man would wake enough that he could inquire where he'd found her, and what had impaled her. He needed to remove the glass but could do nothing until she was a bit more stable. To perform surgery on her now, in this weakened state, would surely finish her, and he'd no want to do a further harm when they'd risked all to find her.
As he lay in front of the fire, Erik could feel the pain of his hands and feet. It felt as if a thousand needles were jabbing into them from every direction, a torture chamber's cruelest tricks. He was no stranger to this torment. His overwhelming tiredness could not dull the pain sufficiently to allow him to rest.
One of the young women in the employee of the tavern kneeled next to him. She placed a warm compress on his forehead. Yet another came, taking his hands one by one, first holding them between her hands, and then gently rubbing them until the tingling ceased. He'd barely noticed that his shivering had subsided as he began to drift off to sleep. He was so tired. He knew that they were all there, all safe, and he'd done that which he'd come to do.
XXXX
Christine had fallen asleep in the window seat looking out at the night sky. She was duly bundled in the blankets she'd brought with her from her bed chamber. She felt a gentle hand shaking her ever so slightly. It was the wee hours of the morning and she could see in the barely tempering light that it was Misty.
"Mum, you should recline, it isn't good for you to sleep in this way." Misty herself was in her robe and nightcap.
Christine smiled sleepily at her, "what time is it?" Misty glanced over her shoulder. "It's just before three mum." Christine stretched her arms above her head, quickly pulling them back into the sleeves of Erik's robe.
Misty smiled at her. She'd a cup of warm milk stained with a bit of cocoa. She handed it to Christine who took it gratefully. "Thank you." She said, raising it to her lips, blowing gently on the steam that rose from the cup. Christine looked over the cup at Misty. "I'd not disturbed you wandering about the house have I?" Christine took her first sip. It had been laced with a bit of almond and a few crystals of sugar…it was just what she'd have asked for if she could have done so.
"Not at all mum. We've all had a difficult time with the storm, and I dare say we share your worry with you mum." Misty smiled at Christine, thinking carefully, she continued. "If you don't mind me saying so mum, your husband….he's not a sort of man we've met before. He is most kind and generous. A household shan't normally be as blessed as this one is mum."
Christine returned Misty's smile. "Yes, he is not usual in any way…that is perhaps why I love him as I do." Christine was blushing a bit, but her heart simply could not contain the feelings she had for Erik. He was what any woman would want in a husband, and oh so much more than she could have imagined she would have. Christine sighed, handing the cup back to Misty.
She turned glancing out the window pulling the blanket back around her shoulder. The winds had died down, and just the few snowflakes fell now, most likely those dislodged from the roof rather than new from the sky. "I pray that he is warm and well…that he's found what he went looking for."
Misty nodded her head silently. "Come mum, I'll take you to your room, I've warmed your bed for you, the fire is built…you should lay down mum, you've not been well…and you'll want to be ready when he's come home to you."
Christine glanced back over her shoulder at Misty. She was right, though she longed to stay at that window until she saw him, she had to think of their children, surely Erik would have disapproved of her sitting there all night. She smiled rising to join Misty.
As she walked toward the door leading to the outer corridor she glanced back in the room. The man was not there, but his love was…indeed it had permeated the very room with his music. The piano cover lay still open…as he'd last touched it. Christine went to it, running her hands over the ivory keys…he'd played so beautifully...she smiled, closing the cover. She joined Misty who'd collected the blankets and was heading out the door toward the stairs. She closed the door. She hoped the next time she was in that room, it would be in the arms of her husband.
XXXXX
The boy had huddled by the fire until it had gone out. Now he lay in the back of the carriage bundled in the blankets that he had. He'd eaten what he could and now was giving in to the exhaustion he'd felt for hours. The snow had stopped, and the biting winds had subsided. Perhaps a few hours of sleep would provide him with the energy to dig his way out of the fortress of snow that surrounded him.
He'd had much time alone…contemplating his own possible demise…he was confused….was this all life was to contain? A bitter hatred, the only thing that warmed the blood? Had his own father not loved and been loved by his mother? How could one heart contain both emotions and be true to either one?
He'd grown up in a circle where all he had witnessed was violence and vengeance. And yet, he saw such happiness, such relief from life's pain in the faces of all the happy families…even those that had fallen prey to the hands of his own father…down to the last, what had mattered most to them was their loved ones…their material goods mattered little to them in their last moments of life. How had his own life deviated so from those that his path had crossed? His eyes fluttered closed…sleep was his only relief.
XXXXX
The man had come and gone several times in the night back and forth to the stable. The young foal was guarded fiercely by the mother who stood over her. She was a perfect specimen. Her markings and color nearly an exact replica of her father's, though she'd had her mother's more petite structure and beautiful eyes. The mother had allowed the man next to the foal but watched him with careful eyes, ready to react if he'd do anything she'd not approved of. There was nothing in nature quite as fierce as a new mother protecting her young…nothing.
XXXXX
The doctor had given the widow yet another pill from the brown bottle in his satchel. He'd had to do the work which he'd hoped to avoid. The man was now prepared to be taken to Le Mortum street, though little further needed to be done for him.
His widow had nearly been inconsolable. Perhaps still having his cold corpse in the house made it all that much more difficult. She hoped that they would find and bring to justice that man who'd done this heinous thing. Three dead men over the retrieval of a carriage. She'd wished she could visit the other widows, to share in their grief, but the weather and timing had not permitted it. She had no outlet, save the medicine that the doctor had so mercifully administered.
He'd reclined in one of the rooms trying to rest to no avail. He worried for Meg, he worried for Raoul. He took some comfort in the weather being an impediment to everyone, that no doubt provided a safe cushion for Raoul's sake. Meg on the other hand, she'd been healing well, and he could only hope that the vials he'd given her had not become a regular companion for her. They were a temporary measure…nothing more…he'd not want to see her make use of them too frequently.
The coffee in his cup was cold. He knew he should retire, and he would, but just now his mind would not release him. There was far too much to keep his mind occupied.
It had become a strange world…so little good happening…evil seemed to triumph at every turn. Surely the spring…yes the spring would bring relief from the long winter they'd been through…so much had happened…surely it had to improve…it simply must.
XXXX
Erik woke. The first that greeted him was that of a burning sensation on his skin. It felt like it was on fire. He'd found himself partially uncovered. The room was light, as much from the fire that burned in front of him as the light he could see coming in through the windows.
The room was decidedly quieter than it had been hours earlier. The revelry of their return had lasted through the wee hours of the morning. He'd tried to block it out through his fitful sleep. Now, save a few staff who scurried about, the room was nearly empty. Erik felt a bit rested, though his limbs ached terribly. Glancing down he found he was undressed up to his shoulders, a crisp linen sheet pulled over several soft white bandages. He could feel there were abrasions on his skin. He sighed, he thought himself to be back in the tavern, the hearth looked familiar to him. But what of the others?
He turned his head. Two of the cots lay abandoned, but a third, lay just feet from his. The form he saw was rather small, though he could not tell who it might be. Slowly he pulled himself to a sitting position. His head pounded terribly, and the skin on his face felt as taut as an emptied wineskin that hadn't been properly seasoned.
He pulled the sheet up covering his shoulders. He'd not been that exposed around anyone except Christine, and though many men paid this no mind, Erik did not share in their opinion. He glanced around the room. It was as though the few who milled about were oblivious to his stirrings, which pleased him. Just now he'd not receive any however well intentioned doting.
He sat for a few minutes, examining with his sore eyes the color and chapping of his hands, the deep red tones of his arms and chest. His curiosity tugged at him. He needed to know who still lay there with him. He hoped the other two were well; up and about as they certainly no longer lingered there by the fire.
Slowly he rose, making his way very carefully over the cot next to his. Sitting on the stone edge of the hearth, he peered down at the small crown of gray he could see peeking from beneath the blankets. It was the old woman. That meant that Nicole and her mother were well, at least he hoped so.
Reaching out he pulled down just enough of the blankets to reveal her cheek. She was warm to the touch though her color wasn't at all good as far as he was concerned. He tenderly stroked her cheek. Oh how he wished Nadir had been able to talk to this woman before he'd left for Paris. Something about her seemed familiar, but Erik could not say what or why.
He rubbed the soft part of his palm across her flesh. Her eyes fluttered. He leaned down, "woman?"
She blinked several more times before her eyes remained open, though not far. She spoke so quietly that if he'd not been next to her, he'd not have known that she was even speaking.
"Nicole…my daughter…" Erik whispered to her as he continued to stroke her cheek. "They are both safe…they are here." Though Erik in truth did not know where. It appeared she smiled just slightly, a small sigh rising from her chest, making her wince.
Erik looked at her, his brow furrowed. "What pains you woman?" She shook her head. "My side, its…" she trailed off. She swallowed. "Have you the books?" Erik nodded, "yes, I shall see to their return."
She was shaking her head, a pained expression as though every movement seemed to cause her discomfort. "No...they're for the boy."
Erik shook his head, sighing disgustedly. "Woman, there is no boy, why do you speak of a boy who does not live?"
Her eyes welled with tears. "Yes, there's a boy…he has your eyes…those beautiful eyes."
Erik looked down on her with such pity. He knew the truth…he'd no children…no possibility of children before those that Christine now carried. "It shan't be possible woman…it is but a dream."
She shook her head. "No…he'd gone out in the storm, he disappeared…I've been waiting for him." Erik took pity on her. He'd listen, not argue, for it did no good. She believed there'd been a boy…what was the harm now? "Yes, the boy mum, what did you say his name was mum?"
She closed her eyes, swallowing, "he'd not been permitted a name, no name for the damned they'd said."
Erik's insides hurt, what child would be deprived of a name? "Why, why was he damned? What fault did he possess?"
She was shaking her head, pain obviously overtaking her.
"Rest woman, do not worry for now, you need to rest." Erik was stroking her forehead again.
She looked up at him, "the books, promise me you'll give him the books…he needs them."
Erik shook his head…yet another promise he'd no hope of keeping, but if it provided her some temporary comfort, he'd agree. "Yes, I shall see that he gets them woman. Now rest."
She closed her eyes. Erik felt guilty for not being able to help her find release from this turmoil, for he knew much about the inner workings of the torment in one's own mind.
Later he wouldn't be able to recall just what had compelled him, but he'd a feeling, a nagging inner feeling. "Woman?" She opened her eyes wearily, "DeChagny…why did you use that name…"
The expression on her face was of utter surprise and would come to haunt him. "That's his name…your boy's name sir. Forgive me…you never knew." Her eyes were insistent and fixed.
Erik looked down in horror at the woman as her eyes slowly fluttered closed. She'd fallen back to sleep. He shook his head. How?…How had she found that name…why he…what connection had she made in her convoluted mind?
That name….it haunted him, challenged him, tortured him at every turn. He was finished with that name, he'd left it…every remnant of it behind in Paris, and that is where he'd intended for it to stay. He looked down at the sleeping form. When she woke, when she was well again, perhaps they'd speak of it…she needed to know the truth…there was no boy.
XXX
Raoul had fallen asleep with Meg in his arms as he had several nights before. Each time he woke to find her there, it seemed more and more real. The possibilities were opportunities that lay before them. Much had been decided as the moon shone last night.
She'd stay…convalesce, until the Opera House required her mother's return. Meg would go to visit Elizabeth in the country, and return when she was ready, no matter what she'd decided. Opera House or DeChagny manor, either would welcome her with open arms. It was a plan, and somehow though it was not what he'd first intended when he'd brought her there that first night, it would do just now. This was the only way for them to be certain, absolutely certain that they'd made their decisions with eyes wide open of all the consequences and responsibilities.
Meg would heal, he would prepare, it was a favorable plan. With any fortune at all, it was one that could bring happiness to all of them, even his father. An heir was to be born to the DeChagny household, and he believed in his heart now, more than ever, that he'd found her…the one his mother had predicted, and one that his father was slowly warming to.
He leaned down, placing a tender kiss on Meg's forehead. She sighed, pushing her head into his shoulder. Yes, for once, in a very long while, things seemed to be proceeding in an auspicious direction. A little more each day his heart healed, began to hope, began to dream, of life as it could be.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: Thank goodness I'm home….it was good for me to go, but I like coming back even more! I did miss my computer, and of course all of you! Thank you for tolerating these 'blips' in the progress of the story. I'll have one again the third week of October, but I don't know which days for certain, ahh…the joys of being gainfully employed!
Captainoblivious: Anthropology field trip? I think that sounds entirely wonderful! I hope that you had a wonderful time.
Yes, yes, our Christine is a lucky lady! Erik is such an intense person…perhaps that's what comes from growing through such adversity! Hope you liked this new chapter!
Phantomsrogue: Congratulations for sticking it through with college. No matter how long it takes to accomplish the goal, it is great when it is done. The way I look at projects that take longer than I'd hoped or planned, is that I'd have spent that part of my life, or those years doing something else, so at least I've accomplished this (insert name of project) Somehow that helps me keep things in perspective. I myself have over eight years of college…so I can completely empathize! And yes, I agree, we all need to have an outlet for the stressors in our life, and collaboration is often a very good one!
Oh, I was going to mention, the storyline will be o.k. for 'The Darker Side of Paris', POTO was set in 1870 which is perfect for the timing of all the other events…everything was reaching its pinnacle, ready to erupt, so I think it makes such perfect sense for these all to come together! I am very excited about the prospects! I think we will be able to blend the stories well. The revolution was happening then, the events of the Paris Commune took place in 1871… It will be a good work indeed!
Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Things are not entirely resolved, though we did get a glimpse of everyone's state of affairs!
WriterMuseoftheNight: I am glad you are liking the developments. Sorry about the saw reference, but you know, that's how they solved things back then…if they couldn't make it better right away, they sawed if off so the infection wouldn't spread! Yikes…makes you glad to live in the 21st century doesn't it? Sorry I cannot tell you more about the blood…I'd spoil the coming chapters! You ask so very many good questions. Meg and Christine at the Opera House? I don't know if that could ever be…. There are so many things that prevent them from ever returning to their former life. It's sort of like real life…when you've chosen a path…sometimes there is never a way to go back… The other questions and speculations, I cannot tell…for it would betray the story!
Glad to hear that you've read 'Great Expectations', it truly is a beautiful story isn't it? Oh, no need for apology regarding P & P. There are many things that I am completely ignorant of….I like to call those "learning opportunities"! The author of 'Pride and Prejudice' is Jane Austen. You should be able to get this in paper back, a bit less expensive. Yes, I too look forward to reading of Burns poetry. He was a very passionate man, one who lived his life regardless of what others thought or said. He had little social conscience I'm afraid, but if he could have quoted Elvis, it would have been his motto "I did it my way!" LOL!
Phantomfan13: Yes, Antoinette… As soon as I heard the name it just seemed to fit. You had so much in your review I don't know where to start! You certainly have many interests going on all at once don't you! I for one cannot imagine my father hanging me over the railing at Niagra Falls! I can promise you, our dear Erik shan't be doing anything so scary! LOL. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
BatteredChild: I must admit every time I type your tag name I shudder. Its not that tag names are either good or bad, but I think of our dear Erik being beaten by that gypsy!
You are right, though Erik and Nicole are back at the Inn, I think about the struggle Erik and Christine have to go through. He wants to be at her side always, but these things just keep pulling him away from her…he simply cannot let some things go. He still has many secrets he has not shared with Christine, and in truth, I think he has to come to terms with them himself before he can ever share them with her. Right now he's concentrating on loving her, trying to put the past behind him…though it seems now that he finally has a future, that his past won't leave him alone! Oh the irony…oh the agony!
Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Phantomlover05: Yes, Raoul is a gentleman…..seems to run in the family? Hmmmm. Hope you enjoyed this last installment.
Lirel-eris: Good to hear from you. I can certainly understand how life just gets busy…it happens to all of us! I am most happy to hear that you are able to relate to each of the characters. It was my hope to make them human…for in that way we can care for them all! I do rather smile when I read "addictive labyrinth" in your review. I've used the word in previous chapters, and you shall be seeing it again in a few yet to come!
Yes, please do stop by from time to time and let us know how things are with you!
Foreverphantoms: I smiled from ear to ear when I read that your husband is finally relenting and going to watch POTO with you! Hurray! Perhaps once he sees it, especially with a box of chocolates and tissue, he will understand the beauty of the story and why you are drawn to it so. I shiver when I think that yet another member of our Phamily may be spreading the joy to a newcomer! I smiled even wider that it was that one quote that hooked him! It is entirely wonderful that you've taught your son's this quote…it will stay with them all the days of their life. I can still remember the time and the place I was when I heard it, and how profound an impact it had on me. I guess that is why I included it in the story. You could just see how Erik would have felt that way. He had been able to for years, watch society without having to participate in it…and no doubt his time in Persia, would have only reinforced those ideals. Sometimes when we sit back and observe, we can learn so much more!
Good that some of the music will make it onto the CD for 'little Erik'! To have dad and sister making that for him is all that much sweeter! Happy to hear that he is doing well. Two pounds is small, but ever ounce makes life a little better for him! The fact that he gaining weight is such a good sign!
Thank you for your comments regarding the characters and the story. It warms my heart every time I read that someone is enjoying it!