Chapter 153 Sleighs and Slays

Erik had settled Christine into the sleigh, brushing a kiss along her cheek. Moving back out he reassured her, "I shall be but a moment my dear, I've one last thing to tend to."

Erik made his way back to the house. The staff were busy cleaning up from the quick preparations that had just taken place. He glanced around the room, he was looking for someone in particular. She was not there. He sighed, a hint of irritation quite obvious. He turned around going out into the hall. Misty was just coming back down, a fresh white linen cloth in her hand.

"Monsieur?" She said curtseying as Erik approached.

"May I address you by your first name?" Misty nodded. "Then Misty, I've a task to ask of you. Under normal circumstances I'd not ask a lady, this request would have befallen Erphan to care for, but as he will be accompanying Elizabeth and I, I've no others to ask who I feel would be well suited for the task."

Misty looked at him with a curiosity in her eye. "I've need for someone to take this," he handed her a bound leather pouch with a note affixed, "to the undertaker in Chauesser. It is not be delivered until the day after tomorrow, but it will need to be there by that day, as I've made a promise to see to taking care of certain expenses."

Misty wasn't entirely certain of what he spoke, but she'd not question it. She'd not known, nor had any of the household, what had happened in Chauesser while the master was gone. "Monsieur, I shall do as you bid me." Misty nodded her head, keeping it lowered out of respect.

"Child, lift your eyes." Misty looked back up at him, his handsomeness was a bit overwhelming….his presence was a bit unnerving. Erik sighed, looking this way and that before he continued. "Elizabeth assures me that you are someone with whom I can be most frank and trust that you shall keep what I say in the strictest of confidence." Erik looked at her for affirmation.

Misty nodded, "indeed sir, whatever you ask."

Erik smiled. "When in Chauesser you may hear of many things in regard to my most recent visit to the village. You may learn of the woman's death, of my finding her, and more troubling still of the city's need to pay honor to me where none is due."

Misty was confused though she'd not interrupt him.

"Misty, it is true that I did find the woman, and that I'd reunited her with her family before she died, but it was not a heroic act as some in the city now believe. I did what any decent man should have been willing to do and nothing more. To pay honor to anyone who did only what anyone ought, is but an insult to those who are truly heros. My wish is for you not to share any information with those in the city. I neither want or have need for anyone to be snooping about in my business or that of my household. If you are asked of my whereabouts simply tell them that I had business in a distant place, and nothing more. I shall further ask you not to share any of this with the remainder of the household. I should like very much to share this with them myself upon our return if it becomes necessary." Erik looked down at her. "Do you feel you can honor this request?"

Misty nodded. "Am I to travel there alone Monsieur?"

Erik hadn't thought of that. He sighed. "I shall trust you to select one member from the remainder of the staff to be an escort to you. For your safety, it should be a gentleman. Travel only to the undertaker's office and no where else, lest you subject yourself to an inquisition. Is that understood?"

Misty nodded. "I shall do as you ask sir." Erik nodded and turned to leave. "Sir, could you tarry but a moment?" Erik nodded his head, though he'd no idea what it was that he'd have to wait for. Misty disappeared into the kitchen coming back out with something wrapped in the linen. She handed it to Erik with a smile.

"What is this?" Erik inquired looking down at the odd shaped package.

"It is the remainder of the pastry sir. I knew you shan't want to leave it behind."

Erik smiled at her. She was indeed as thoughtful as Christine had said. He smiled at the girl and departed.

Misty watched as he walked out to the sleigh, holding the small bundle in his arms as tenderly as if it were a newborn babe. She looked down at the leather in her hand. Now, the task of choosing someone she'd trust to accompany her. She would think of something, spin some yarn, telling the remainder of the staff why she'd be off to Chauesser. Something plausible, something that would raise little suspicion. She'd have to consider her actions carefully. There was no sleigh save the single one that was used for recreational purposes, and that seemed a bit silly to pull behind a horse into the city, but there may be little choice in the morning.

XXX

Christine heard Erik giving instructions to the staff who were to remain behind. It was but a few moments before the door on the side of the sleigh opened and Erik climbed in to join her. The inside of the carriage was quite comfortable at present, though both knew it would not last for many hours.

Erik looked down at Christine. "I feel obligated to ask you but one last time if you'd reconsider, I shan't be gone but a day, two at most Christine."

She didn't even look away before she responded. "Wherever you go my love, I shall go with you, even to the grave."

Erik's eyes showed his pleading disappointment. He'd made a promise he had to keep though his heart broke for the keeping of it. He but nodded at her, and reached up rapping his knuckles on the roof. Though he'd hoped she reconsider, he knew she shan't. The sleigh lurched forward, and they were off.

Christine smiled at Erik, nestling into the security of his arms. "What is this?" She said, lifting the white bundle from beneath his cape.

Erik smiled, "why that is what remains of the pastry my love." He kissed her forehead. "Why did you not tell me you'd prepared it?"

Christine smiled, running her arms around his waist. "I suppose it was because when I laid eyes on you, it was the farthest thing from my mind."

Erik closed his eyes, wrapping his arms protectively around her. She was so much more than he'd ever dreamed of, so much more. "It was perfect my dear, simply perfect." He rubbed her shoulder. His brow furrowed a bit, looking down at Christine who was nestled ever so comfortably in his arms. "Did you not…did you and your father…perhaps your governess…"

Christine rubbed her cheek along his chest. "No, there was no time. I was so young when my father died, they'd never had time to show me. I'm afraid there are a great many things that remained untaught, as there was always the promise of the future years to learn such things. Then, when I arrived at the Opera House, there was no opportunity there for such things. I did sneak into the kitchen while the cooks toiled, often watching from the pantry unbeknownst, but never had I even dabbled in it."

Erik sighed. While he'd had to admit his culinary skills were a bit rudimentary, he'd even prepared a few things, though not many. It had mostly been when he was in Persia, there he and Nadir had access to a great many things, not the least of which was the use of a palatial kitchen, at least for a time, before it turned from kitchen to butcher shop… Erik shook his head. His pulse quickened, his breathing grew shallow, the number of breaths increased. He blinked, he had to forget, had to forget.

"Whatever is it Erik?" Christine looked up at him. "Do you worry what we might find when we arrive in Paris?"

Erik blinked several more times, trying to clear the images that had been flashing before them. "Yes….I worry for what we might find." He leaned over kissing her forehead. "Rest now my dear, rest while it is yet warm inside, for it shan't be long before it cools, making a peaceful rest all but impossible."

She nodded, pushing at Erik's side just slightly. "Here, let us recline just a bit," she said as she carefully guided Erik's back into the comfort of the pile of horse blankets that had been placed to the side of him. "Let us both rest while we can."

Erik smiled at Christine, holding her in his lap. He would not recline, he had need to be ready for anything, and whatever it might be, it would not find him sleeping, not on his watch.

Soon Christine had drifted off to sleep. The ride, Erik was quite impressed, had been very smooth, almost as if they were passing over a tranquil pond in a flat-bottomed boat.

Erphan had been following the landmarks very carefully as Erik had instructed him. He could hear Erphan explaining in near verbatim detail, all that Erik had conveyed to him earlier. He smiled. The young man was not content to simply learn, he had to teach; a good quality, Erik thought to himself. He leaned his head back against the cushion of the blanket. Perhaps he would but close his eyes for a moment. His feet firmly planted on the floor of the sleigh, his sword tucked just below his feet, and Christine in his arms. He would just close his eyes, for a moment.

The sleigh jerked just a bit and Erik felt himself being pushed back just slightly against the back of the seat. There was no doubt in his mind that they were climbing something, but no, it surely couldn't be. He looked down at the small cast-iron pot that had warmed the sleigh, lifting the lid, coughing just slightly from the smoke that escaped, the coals that had glowed red hot, now were in a pile of ashen gray. Little if any life left in them, though the side of the pot was still warm to the touch.

He slipped his pocket watch out from beneath his cloak. They'd traveled for nearly three hours…three hours of uninterrupted peace. It was far better than he'd expected. He'd not thought they'd travel that distance without event, but he was indeed grateful that they had. If his estimates were correct, and Erphan had traveled as he'd been instructed, they'd likely be on the outskirts of Paris in just over an hour.

Erik looked down at Christine. Though she'd managed to turn herself around in his arms, she was still resting peacefully. He kissed her forehead. "Thank you." He said quietly looking up at the roof of the sleigh. He was thankful for a great many things, not the least of which was that the trip had proven to be quiet thus far, and that she had rested.

Erik sighed. He was thankful on his own account, the unexpected sleep that had seized him had also rescued him from what he was certain would have been hours of lamenting, and reflecting on something he'd no desire to dwell on. He wanted to close his eyes again, but he could not. He leaned his head back once more, repositioning his feet. He stared at the roof of the sleigh.

Try though he might, something in his mind wandered to the very thoughts he'd thought he'd successfully dodged in his slumber. He began to wonder, how evil had a soul been that could ever have requested, nay thought of such treachery? How depraved, despicable, immoral, horrid was a person to the core that they could craft in their mind things that were so vile? Why had he allowed himself to become involved with the likes of such a house? How had it been that he and Nadir had become so steeped in it that though it grew more and more abominable with each passing day, they could not see it for the wickedness that it was?

Erik's gaze grew stony, so much so, he could not even blink. His pulse quickened once more, he could hear the man pleading, pleading for his life….that voice, that wicked voice laughing, taunting, refusing him relief…the crack of a whip, the scream. Erik shook, it took over his entire body, he gasped, and then jerked himself into a stiff seated position. He immediately looked down, Christine was rubbing at her eyes.

"Erik, what is it, what have they seen, are we…"

Erik was soothing her, "go back to sleep my dear, it was merely me, it has been a long ride, I grow stiff from time to time. Do go back to sleep, we are more than an hour off yet, rest." Christine nestled herself back into his arms.

Erik sighed, he could hardly tell her. Not with all she had on her mind now.

XXXXX

Raoul traveled down the stairs with exacting swiftness. He went to the door that lay at the end of the hall leading out to the veranda facing the carriage house. He peered out the door carefully, the sentry was in place as he'd requested, and Raoul could see that a second was on his way from the carriage house to join him, gun slung over his shoulder, he affixed his cloak.

Raoul scanned all he could see, venturing out when the second man was on the veranda. The dogs were still barking somewhat insistently. "Have you seen anything sir?"

The man turned his head toward Raoul to speak but did not make eye contact. He had his eye trained in the direction of the dogs, and he shan't look away not even for a moment. That was indeed the very direction in which he and his men had traveled at Raoul's behest not many days before to check on the nesting spot Raoul had found by the felled tree. If it had been more than a transient, something more than a coincidence, then he'd want to be ready for it.

"Vicomte, so far the night has been silent and clear, nary a cloud, nor breeze to speak of."

Raoul's eyes were just beginning to adjust to the lack of light. He squinted staring in the same general direction. "You've no indication of what it might be?" Raoul said.

The man replied in a hushed voice, "Vicomte, I've none, though I have my suspicions."

Raoul looked at the man, his face was cast with an eerie dark grey-blue, a miniscule orange twinkle in his eye. It was the peculiar appearance of a man's face lit by nothing more than the moon as it shone brightly off the snow.

"And what of these suspicions?" Raoul said, as his breath rose in a frosty vapor.

"Vicomte, I've traveled much by night, having been as you know, a courier for the Royal Guard. When there has been a snow, and the moon is shining in all its fullness, as it does tonight, especially on the heels of a storm…"

Raoul interrupted, "the hunt. Do you think it could be wolves? We've not seen the likes of them for some years sir."

The man nodded. "It is possible. Great storms such as this one push animals into places they might not normally frequent. That would certainly be a plausible explanation for the ferocity with which the dogs respond."

Raoul breathed a slight sigh, if that were all it was, he would be much relieved. Perhaps he'd overreacted, frightened Meg for no reason.

The men stood shoulder to shoulder on the veranda, simply watching. And then they saw it, first one, then several more. They were indeed wolves, a number of them. The scene in front of the carriage house turned abruptly ugly. Soon the five dogs Raoul had as guards for his property were falling victim to the dozen or more wolves that swarmed the yard.

The carriage house came to life, lamps being lit in every window. Men were coming out with shovels trying to defend the animals who'd begun to back themselves up against the carriage house for some means of defense. There was gnashing of teeth, yelps, and the sound of ripping flesh. It was quite obvious that it would be a blood bath if no one intervened. One thing was certain, if the wolves found even a slight victory on the grounds that night, they would be back night after night until the last of their hungers had been satisfied.

The man standing next to Raoul lifted his gun, firing a single shot in the air. The men near the carriage house quickly retreated indoors. The two men, standing on either side of Raoul lifted their guns taking aim at the wolves who had pinned a dog on the ground. There was a click, a snap, and two thunderous shots rung out in unison, felling two of the wolves with killing strikes. The men quickly reloaded taking down just three more of the pack before they scattered off into the woods.

Slowly the men came from the carriage house. There the pristine white of the ground that had been covered by the spring snow was stained a deep and splattered blood red. The men walked out nudging each wolf with their boots to make certain they were dead. The youngest men wandered over to the two dogs that lay on the ground. Both were battered and one was missing the top of his ear, the other was bleeding profusely from a tear in his nose, and both were whimpering as the other three circled around them, prancing worriedly as they sniffed at them.

The dogs had all come from the same litter. They were the direct descendants of the pedigreed female pup that Raoul's mother had given him the year before she passed. She'd hoped she'd be a good companion for Raoul as he grew, and indeed she had been.

The young men went about picking up the dogs, they whimpering and wining in protest as they carried them into the carriage house to tend to their wounds. Three of the other men went about setting up a fire a ways off from the carriage house. They'd give the beasts no reason to want to return, for even they did not object to eating their own.

Raoul watched, a sickened look on his face as the men tossed the felled beasts into the fire. He'd never had want to take the life from a beast in such a way, but he knew that there had been little choice.

XXXX

Meg and Madame Giry had removed themselves from her bed, and now found themselves cowering with blankets thrown round their shoulders in the small hall that separated the room Madame Giry occupied, and the one left vacant by Nadir's absence.

"It will be alright Meg, do not worry, I'm sure there is good reason for it, do not worry."

Meg had become quite inconsolable. The gun shots brought back such terror, such memories of an event that she'd been trying to forget. Raoul had gone down, and not since returned, though she'd not heard any screaming, she worried still. She rocked back and forth, her forearms grasped tightly about her knees. She could not focus on anything, her mind was simply at odds. Even her mother's touch seemed foreign to her.

Madame Giry sat with her hand on Meg's shoulder until she heard the door to her room open.

"Meg?" Came Raoul's voice. She stood, stumbling out of the closet tangled in the blankets. Raoul quickly coming to her aide.

"Raoul, whatever happened?"

"Meg," he embraced her as she nearly leapt into his arms. "Do not worry Meg, all is well." He glanced around the room, "where is your mother?"

Madame Giry walked out of the hallway, draping the blankets she'd been folding over her arm.

"Mother, are you alright?" Madame Giry nodded at Raoul, "yes, though I must say that the gun shots we heard were a bit unsettling for Meg."

Raoul turned to her once more, pulling her to him, putting her head in the crook of his neck, massaging her shoulders with his hands. He'd forgotten of Meg's fears, in the heat of the moment. "My dearest Meg, I am sorry to have frightened you," he lead her over to her mother, taking both women by the hand, then leading them over to the divan by the fire.

"You see with the full moon, a pack of wolves wandered into the woods, having found their way then down into the yard by the carriage house. I am quite afraid that they'd taken much interest in the five Labradors."

Meg's face blanked, "pray do not tell me that they…"

Raoul was shaking his head, "none were killed, but two were injured, the men in the carriage house are tending to them now."

Madame Giry walked to the window of her room. Though she could not see it directly, she recognized the orange glow that grew behind the house. "And the fire Raoul?"

He turned to Meg, then glanced at Madame Giry. "We'd managed to take down five of them, though there were considerably more. They'll not be buried, the scent of the dead would only further encourage their return. Though it is not favorable, we shall have to corral the dogs for a few nights, keeping watch for more until we are certain they've moved on. We cannot risk having them finding this a advantageous place to hunt. In the late spring we've lambs arriving, and several of our horses will also be due."

Raoul looked at Meg and then at Madame Giry. "I am dreadfully sorry to have caused you distress. Perhaps I am a bit jumpy with all that has gone on these last months, my apologies to you both."

Madame Giry startled as she heard a rap on the door. In came Madeline, a fresh pot of tea, three cups and some short breads. She sat them on the table by the fire.

"Vicomte, man say all right now. He take care, wolves gone now." She nodded her head politely, and then retrieved Madame Giry's teapot that had now grown cold.

Raoul stood, walking over to it as Madeline closed the door behind her. "Ladies, let us have a cup of tea, calm ourselves, then I shall escort Meg back to her room, so we might all take in some much needed rest." Madame Giry and Meg joined him.

Madame Giry watched as Raoul carefully attended each cup, doctoring it the way the ladies preferred before handing the cups to each of them.

Meg could not even look up. It was as if her gaze was fixed on a certain spot on the floor, and could not be moved. Before the events of the night she'd had a difficult enough time imagining sleeping in that room without Raoul. She could barely imagine it now. She took the cup from him, silently supping at it.

Madame Giry and Raoul looked at one another. The incident had frightened them, no doubt of it, but what they could not imagine was how it gripped Meg. She'd had a bit more to deal with than they.

The three sat in utter silence as they sipped their tea. Perhaps they would sit there for a long while, at the very least until Meg felt comfortable enough to look up at them for anything more than a fleeting glance. They'd not leave her side until she did.

XXXX

The sleigh driver had whipped at the horses wildly. The sleigh was moving at a harrowing speed across the firm surface of the crusted snow. He and the occupants of the sleigh, had heard the gunshots ring out. Now fearing the worst the men sat looking at each other as the sleigh tossed them about, bumping along on the drifts behind the horses.

Nadir's eyes were as wide as the doctor's. "We've only the element of surprise for the first moment we arrive, after that, we've nothing more that we can do but defend ourselves unless he's already been taken down." Nadir said to the doctor. He had handed him a gun.

The doctor had no wish to use the gun, though he did know how. The men heard the horses rear up a screeching whinny before they heard what was a rushing sound on either side of the sleigh and just as quickly it was gone.

Nadir leaned forward, rapping on the back of the driver's seat. "Sir?", the man leaned back looking over his shoulder, "wolves." Nadir's blood ran cold. He had far more encounters with wolves than he'd ever hoped to have. Now all he could wish for is that they'd not circle around and follow them.

The sleigh driver whipped at the horses' hind quarters once more, and added surge of power coming from the beasts as much from the fear as the strike. They'd all rest much easier once they'd found their way to the carriage house. It would be in sight in but a few minutes, and then they would know. Know what had caused the shots that rang out so clearly on that very quiet night.

XXXX

He too had heard the gun shots. Not knowing what it might be he allowed a further distance to grow between he and the men traveling on the sleigh. He might have no hope of seeing to his business this night if there was trouble brewing ahead. Nothing drew attention quite like a melee, and he shan't know until he was close enough to observe what he'd heard. Then he'd decide if the strike would be this night, or would be delayed but another evening. He'd wait if he'd need to, but it was the very last that he'd want to do just now.

Author's Notes:

Dear Faithfuls: It is indeed very good to be back. I did have a chance to pen a few more chapters, a few a bit longer than usual. I hope that you will approve! There are changes coming for all concerned, and they will lead us on the next leg of our journey. Thank you for staying with our Phamily!

Phantomsrogue: First and foremost my deepest apology. I shall see to returning that e-mail, though the value of my word is now somewhat diminished in light of my not returning your message prior to my departure as promised.

Yes, Raoul is in a bit of a quandary, though you might find that there are other dangers lurking out there beyond Crawlings! Poor Meg, I can only imagine how frightened she is, and now with Raoul not standing guard in her room, she might be more frightened than ever!

Nordygirl: Again, another excellent song. I could just see Depp with his purple wild-and-crazy eyes singing that song, of course, backed up by the oompa loompas! Yikes! I hope you enjoyed this most recent chapter!

Silverrain187: Thank you for that most wonderful explanation of your tag name. It makes perfect sense to me. The story, just so you know, is set for 1870, a very tumultuous year in the city of Paris. I've often wondered if LaRue chose that year purposely because of it. There are many, many, stories based on those late 1800's in Paris because of the events that were going on then. I knew there was some significance to the number…there always is! The thoughts of silver, rain, and tears, it is quite poetic, and that always tugs at my heart…alas, it was a most excellent choice for you. I do thank you for working your way through all of the chapters up to this point. It is most certainly an undertaking. I hope you enjoy this most recent installment!

LadyWinifred: Trouble coming indeed. I don't think any of imagined that this would be an easy road. When a family, no, a gaggle of families lives are all intertwined, and as complicated as the lives of those in our story, there is no simple way of resolving it. I do hope that in the end, it will all be one long, complex story of how true love triumphs, and provides the sorrow and soaring hearts that make this life so very worth living.

Musicofthenight13: I do not find your questions annoying. The babies, they are coming my dear, but these things do take time!

Faeriecatcher1: That is alright my dear, life is rather demanding sometimes isn't it? Thank you for the compliment on the story. It continues to warm my heart when I hear kind words, and a review from time-to-time so that I know that Phamily members are alive and doing well out there…no matter where in the world this story finds them!