Reaver's Servants
The Legend of the Red Balverine
"I've traveled the world, waged war against the dead, fought next to the Queen in the Battle for Albion, fought Darkness Incarnate itself and done just about everything imaginable in between. But, a new calling forced me to come back to our fair kingdom. Most make it sound more like a sport, but to some, like me, it's a steady, and well paying, job. It's dangerous, and not many survive. But, the longer you have this job, the more people pay you to do it. A lesser educated man might call me an exterminator, but in truth, I'm so much more than that. Oh, so much more. I'm Ben Finn, Balverine Hunter."
"Mr. Finn, who are you talking to?" asked the bar maid, as she refilled the man's mug.
Ben looked up at the bar maid and smiled nervously as she finished. "Just practicing the introduction to my newest book, Carla. I'm going to call it 'Memoirs of a Balverine Hunter.'" He joked, taking up his newly refilled mug.
"People still paying you to hunt doggies?" asked Carla, placing her hand on her hip.
"Not doggies, Carla. Balverines. Much more dangerous than dogs." Ben took a chug from his mug and set it down hard.
Carla shook her head and picked up the gold Ben placed on the table for the drink. "Why are you here, anyway? Balverines don't take lunch breaks here." She joked, placing the gold in her pocket.
Ben chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I'm meeting with an informant who has information on a local legend."
"Local legend?" asked Carla.
"Yep. There have been rumors circulating that an orange balverine has been spotted around the entrance to Silverpines. Farmers and Nobles alike are scared to death of it." Ben took a flyer out of his knapsack and placed it in front on the table. "The local farmers can't do anything with their lands, because something keeps killing their livestock, not to mention their farmhands."
"Still doesn't mean a mystical orange monster is killing anything. It could be a regular balverine." retorted Carla, sitting across from Ben.
"Ahh, but that's just it. It isn't 'some regular balverine'; farmers who have come out to chase the beast away reported a balverine bigger and lankier than ordinary balverines. Despite its lanky appearance, they say it's stronger than any balverine they've ever seen. They started calling it 'The Red Balverine'. Makes it sound more sinister, I guess." Ben fished up his mug and took another sip. "And the best part? The Nobles in Millfields are paying top gold to anyone who can kill it and show proof. And guess who they hired?" He added with an overconfident smile, pointing to the flyer.
Carla picked up the flyer and read it to herself. "Wow, I've never seen that many zeroes behind a five." She said, in amazement. "So, why hasn't anyone picked up the reward yet?" she asked.
"Everyone who has tried going after it either got too scared or got eaten. One man shot at it, got it in the hand, only to be mauled to pieces less than a minute later, according to his overly friendly widow. But you're looking at a man who laughs in the face of balverines." joked Ben.
"Well, you've certainly helped a few farmers get rid of their balverine problem. As long as you promise to share the wealth with me, I'll promise not to laugh at you when you come back missing an arm." laughed Carla, as she got up to finish her shift.
"You and Me, Carla! We'll travel the world!" Ben laughed, finishing his drink.
A few days later, at Reaver's Manor
Barry wasn't sure why he had been getting strange headaches as of late. He shrugged it off and tried to go about his duties as best he could. "Hatch! Get in here!" yelled Reaver, from his bedroom. Barry sighed softly to himself and walked the short distance from where he was to Reaver's bedroom. Reaver, having come down with a small cold, blew his nose loudly into his handkerchief as Barry entered the room.
"Yes, Master Reaver?" he asked, somewhat dejected.
"Don't look at me like that! I'm dying!" Reaver whined, as he fell back into his pillows hard.
"You have hay fever, Master Reaver. You'll be fine in a few days. No need to be dramatic." said Barry.
Barry barely dodged the glass of juice being thrown at him. "Go find out what is taking Miss Sarah so damn long with that soup!" Reaver yelled, burying his face in a small pillow.
"She hasn't started it yet." answered Barry.
"And why not?" asked Reaver, as he sat up.
"Because I was on my way to tell her to start making it when you called me back in here!" argued Barry, as he started to leave. Reaver blinked a few times, his eyes somewhat watery from the cold. Barry, his boots stomping the floor hard, left Reaver's bedroom and made his way to the staircase leading to the foyer.
As he descended the staircase, he found Willa and Beryl talking over a piece of paper. "Balverine attacks?" he heard Beryl ask Willa.
"Yeah, that guard handed it to me this morning when I was cleaning the floors here in the foyer. Something about a balverine seen near the entrance to Silverpines recently." said Willa, showing the flyer to Beryl. "I wouldn't think much of it. The farmers out in Silverpines aren't exactly the brightest people. I mean, they farm in lands infested with Balverines. Balverines are quite normal there, aren't they?"
Willa was about to answer when Barry approached them. "Don't you two have something better to do than stand there and suck up air?" he asked, sternly. Barry walked past them in a huff. The girls watched with concern as Barry stomp past them. Lately, their boss's illness had put everyone in a bad mood, but it seemed to be hitting Barry the hardest.
"Poor Mr. Hatch. Ever since Mr. Reaver got sick, he's been running him ragged." cooed Beryl.
"Mr. Hatch has been in an especially bad mood since this morning." retorted Willa, placing the flyer on a nearby table.
Barry walked into the kitchen, where Miss Sarah was washing dishes. Barry relaxed a little, hearing Miss Sarah hum as she worked. "Miss Sarah, I hate to bother you, but Master Reaver could use some soup right about now." He said, leaning against the wall.
With a smile, Miss Sarah nodded. "It's not a bother at all. It's my job, after all." She giggled, as she walked to the big cabinet for a pot. "Does Mr. Reaver still believe he's dying?" Miss Sarah asked, placing the pot on the stove.
"Yes, he barely finished the breakfast you made him and he threw his orange juice at me." Barry answered, as he gathered up some utensils for her.
"Oh, Mr. Hatch, you sit down and rest for a bit. Mr. Reaver's been running you all over the place for days, you don't need to help me at all." said Miss Sarah, modestly. Barry sat down in a nearby chair and watched Miss Sarah meander about the kitchen. "Since Mr. Reaver hasn't been feeling well, why don't you pick tonight's dinner, Mr. Hatch?" asked Miss Sarah, as she poured water into the pot.
Barry blushed softly and leaned back in his chair. "I have been craving roast beef like it is an addiction lately, Miss Sarah." He joked softly.
With a smile, Miss Sarah nodded. "Alright, I'll make sure we have everything for roast beef." She said, happily. Barry sighed softly and watched as Miss Sarah collected everything she needed to make soup.
"Do you know any remedies for a severe headache, Miss Sarah?" Barry asked as he rubbed his forehead to the sounds of vegetable chopping.
Miss Sarah looked up from her chopping and thought for a moment. "I might have some more of that new relaxation tea I've been trying in the cupboard. As soon as I am done making the soup…"
Barry's eyes shot open when he heard a small shriek come from Miss Sarah. He got up and walked hastily to Miss Sarah, who was holding her hand close to her apron. He softly took her hand, with a deep blush, and saw the blood from a small cut on her palm.
After wrapping the cut, Barry sat with Miss Sarah, helping her calm down. "I'm not sure why, but lately I have been a bit jittery. I think I should lay off the tea a bit." She giggled, as she got back up. "I should finish Mr. Reaver's soup before he coughs himself into a coma." Miss Sarah nervously went back to making the soup, though her mind didn't seem to be into the task at hand. Barry noticed Miss Sarah had been acting strangely lately (though, strange was relative in the manor nowadays). Though her cooking wasn't affected, she seemed to be more distant; not just with the other servants, but with everyone.
Barry left Miss Sarah to her task and arrived in the foyer just as a knock came to the door. Opening it, Barry was met by a scruffy looking blonde man with a chiseled chin. "Good afternoon, Sir. I came by looking for the master of the house." He said, rocking on his ankles.
"Master Reaver is…indisposed at the moment. I'm his attendant, Barry Hatch. How can I help you?" Barry asked, folding his arms.
"Well, Mr. Hatch, I am going around the houses here in Millfields, gathering information." The man said, scratching the back of his head.
"On what?" asked Barry, inviting the man inside.
The scruffy man walked in slowly and took a look around before clearing his throat. "Well, first of all, I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Ben Finn, I've been hired by some of your neighbors to take care of a certain problem in the area as of recently." He said, holding out his hand. Barry reluctantly shook it, gloved hand meeting the scruffy worn hand. Barry winced a bit, but Ben didn't notice.
Tough grip Barry thought, as the handshake ended. "What kind of problem?" Barry asked, directing him to a nearby couch.
Ben sat down and took out a flyer. "I was hoping that since this house was close to the Silverpines entrance, you'd know something about an animal the locals have been calling 'The Red Balverine'."
Barry's right eye twitched a bit. "B…Balverine?" he asked, twiddling his thumbs.
Not noticing Barry's nervous behavior, Ben nodded and made himself comfortable on the plush couch. "Yes, a balverine. It's a strange one, though. Farmers have reported it was lankier than most balverines, but taller and stronger. And a different color as well. It might have a wound on its hand from where a farmer shot it, as well…"
Before Barry could say anything, Miss Sarah walked out of the kitchen, carrying a silver tray with a cover on it. The two men could smell the vegetable soup, despite the covering and it made their mouths water. "Mr. Hatch, the soup is ready." She said with a smile. Turning her head slightly, Miss Sarah nodded an acknowledgment to Ben. "Oh, hello there. I didn't know we were expecting company." She chirped softly.
Ben got up and bowed slowly. "Ben Finn, Balverine Hunter, at your service, Ma'am." He said, with a smile. Ben looked at Miss Sarah's hand. It was bandaged tightly, with little specks of blood here and there. "That's a nasty wound you got there, Ma'am." He said, softly. Miss Sarah ignored the comment, as she was deep in thought about something.
"Ben Finn? I've heard that name before…" Miss Sarah wondered, balancing the tray a bit.
Ben nodded softly, with an overconfident air about himself. "Ahh, I used to be one of our Queen's generals. I fought alongside her when the Darkness descended upon our great land. Before then, I was a Captain in the Royal Albion army, under Major Swift. But I decided the nomadic life was more my calling…"
"No, not that, though I have heard of your past…" Miss Sarah blinked a few times and it finally came to her. "Oh! Mr. Finn! You used to date my friend, Rosie!" she said, happily.
"Rosie? Rosie…Rosie…" by the way his eyes wondered, Barry and Miss Sarah could tell there have been plenty of "Rosie's" in Mr. Finn's life.
Barry decided to help him out a bit, if not to get him to leave sooner. "Tall, dark hair, kind of stoic expression? About twenty-four years of age? Spouts nonsense at random intervals?"
Something clicked inside Ben's head. "Rosie the Fortune Teller from that dodgy circus a few years back?" Ben looked a little panicked.
"Oh yes, she told me she went out with a 'Mr. Finn' from the army, but never really disclosed much else. She works here, too." said Miss Sarah, happily.
Looking a little scared, Ben backed toward the front door. "Well, it didn't end on good terms, but that was years ago! I doubt she would remember me." He said, as he nervously reached for the doorknob, not finding it. "But, if any of you have information for me, I'd appreciate it. Just come by the Inn in Bowerstone…"
It was at that time Rosie walked in from the study. She stopped and just stared at Ben. With a nervous smile, Ben waved to Rosie. Rosie's eyes began to glow an ominous color as she stomped toward door and shoved Ben out. "We're not interested in what you're selling!" she yelled as she slammed the door.
Rosie stomped away to finish her chores. "Rosie's eyes glow when she's mad?" whispered Barry to Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah shrugged and started up the stairs with the soup.
Ben decided it was best to just walk away. He walked along the lake and started to take note of everything that happened. "Why did she ignore her own wound? It looked too severe to treat like a paper cut…I think I might have to come back here later."
That evening, the servants sat at Reaver's bedside, candles lit, giving the room an ominous glow. "My dearest, most loyal servants…" he coughed.
"Mr. Reaver, I still believe you're overreacting. It's just allergies. We've been in here every night for the last week so you can give your 'last will and testament'." said Beryl, readjusting her glasses.
"Have you all no sympathy for the dying!?" whined Reaver, placing his arm over his eyes. "One of you, fluff my pillow…" he whined again.
With a sigh, Rosie walked up to the bed and fluffed his pillow. "You just have a pollen allergy, Mr. Reaver. Hay fever…it's not serious, or lethal by any means." She commented, as she placed the pillow behind his head. Reaver sat up, handkerchief ready, looking as if he was about to sneeze.
"Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"
Everyone stared at Reaver. "Was…was that a sneeze?" asked Gordon, coming up to the bed. Beryl placed her hand over her mouth as she laughed along with Rosie and Willa. Gordon slapped his knee and started laughing hard. "That is how you sneeze?" he couldn't control his laughter.
"That is the most adorable thing I've ever heard." giggled Miss Sarah, placing her hand over her mouth.
"Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"
Reaver sneezed again and blew his nose into his handkerchief as everyone (except Barry, who seemed to have something on his mind) laughed loudly. Reaver shuffled out of bed and reached for his robe. "It's not laughing matter, I feel horrible!" he put on his fancy bedroom robe and tied it tightly. "Barry, ready a bath for me. Maybe I can…" his face shriveled up as he got ready to sneeze again.
"Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"
Everyone left the room, laughing and giggling, except Barry, who sat still against the wall. "HATCH!" Reaver yelled. Barry shook himself out of his daydream and followed Reaver. Barry readied the big tub in Reaver's private bathing chamber. Bubbles and bathing oils all around, Barry helped Reaver undress and get in.
"I'll send Rosie in here with some fresh towels in a few minutes." murmured Barry, leaving the room.
Walking down the hall, Barry felt his head pounding. He ran down the hall to his bedroom and slammed the door. He ran to his dresser and looked in the mirror. He took off his right hand glove and took a look at his hand. His eye twitched again when he saw the bandage on his hand. "No..." he whispered to himself. "No, it's not a…it's…I cut myself on something around the house or…Master Reaver shot at me to keep me in line, yeah, that's it." he kept murmuring to himself as he put his glove back on.
He felt the room start to spin. The throbbing in his head got worse. Barry held his head and fainted on his bed.
Ben Finn stared into Bower Lake, trying to blend in with the scenery. "If I'm correct…" he told himself, going over notes he had been taking for the last couple nights. "…the 'Red Balverine' has been spotted around here getting a drink of water. So, if I wait here long enough, it should appear." He leaned against the tree trunk of the tree he was hiding in. The night was chilly, and he had forgotten to bring a jacket.
After a few hours of waiting and fighting off sleep, Ben heard a shuffle under the tree he was in. Forcing himself awake, Ben hid behind some branches waited. He didn't see a balverine, but he did see Miss Sarah, walking along the path. "Is that Reaver's cook?" he asked himself. "What is she doing out here so late?"
He watched her disappear up the path toward Bowerstone but couldn't see much else. "Certainly strange…" he said, as he wrote down something. "Maybe the Red Balverine has a day job..." he murmured, reaching into his knapsack for his spyglass.
Even with the spyglass, Ben couldn't see Miss Sarah anymore. "Damn, lost her." He sat back against the tree trunk again and closed his eyes in thought.
An hour or so of resting his eyes, Ben was awakened by a growling sound. He looked below his post, but saw nothing as he climbed down. "Must have been a dog…" he said, scratching his head. As he stopped scratching, he could hear heavy breathing behind him with a soft snarl. Turning his head slowly, Ben found himself staring into the eyes of the Red Balverine.
"Big doggie…" he whispered, reaching on his back for his rifle. The creature roared at him and knocked him down. Ben scooted along the ground, trying to reach his gun. The balverine grabbed his leg with its long, skinny fingers and started to drag struggling Ben toward the nearby wooded area. Ben kicked it's snout with his free leg, enabling it. As it roared in pain, Ben scurried to his rifle, but by the time he turned around, the creature was gone.
"Carla is going to owe me a few beers for this one." He said, picking himself up.
In the morning, Barry shuffled down the stairs, rubbing his head softly. He decided it was time to try that relaxation tea Miss Sarah recommended to him and to find an icepack, as his nose was sore for reasons he couldn't figure out. "I must be catching that pollen allergy." He reasoned.
As he approached the foyer, he saw all the servants and Reaver, listening to Ben Finn in front of an open door. Reaver, still sick, was wearing his fancy bedroom robe over his pajamas. A handkerchief over his mouth and nose, Reaver seemed to be arguing something with Ben.
"…one of my servants, a balverine?! That's preposterous!" he said, angrily. He then blew his nose into the handkerchief.
Ben waved his hands in front of him, trying to calm down the angry groans and scoffs. "I'm not accusing anyone of anything; I'm just saying I don't think the Red Balverine is fully a balverine. It might be a person in the day."
"Like a werewolf?" asked Willa, looking up at Beryl, a little worried.
"In a sense, yes. But this thing is dangerous, and it attacked me last night when I was staking out in a tree out front." said Ben.
"I'd like to know next time you perch yourself in my trees, Mr. Finn." remarked Reaver, before blowing his nose into his handkerchief.
Ignoring Reaver, Ben sighed and folded his arms, staring at the servants and their boss. "After I got away, attacks on three people in Silverpines were reported. Two of them died."
Rosie stood stoically and said nothing. Gordon, however, seemed very opinionated. "Well, with all due respect, Mr. Finn; you have no proof anyone here is up to anything out of the ordinary." He said, with a scowl. "Well, not too out of the ordinary." said Reaver, under his breath. He turned his head and noticed Barry standing behind them. "Oh, Barry, good thing you showed up when you did. Do you have any information for Mr. Finn before the other servants throw him out by the seat of his pants?" asked Reaver.
Barry rubbed the side of his head, and looked around at everyone. "No…no…" he said, as he approached the rest of the group.
Reaver glared back to Ben, his patience obviously running dry. "Well, Mr. Finn, there you have it. I advise you to leave before my…" his face shriveled up again to sneeze.
"Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"
Sputtering his chuckle at first, Ben burst into loud laughter. "What the bloody hell was that?" he laughed.
Reaver wiped his nose with his handkerchief and reached for his gun. "Get out, now!" Ben left, still laughing. Reaver fumed a bit as he watched the servants (Barry included, as the sneezes put him in better spirits) snickered and giggled at Reaver's sneezes. "Get back to work before I start shooting." The servants (save for Barry) scattered.
"Hatch, follow me. We have something to discuss. It can't wait." said Reaver, walking up the stairs.
"Sir, the city clerk won't accept anymore 'Last Will and Testaments' from you. He said if you're going to waste paper…" remarked Barry, following Reaver.
"No, not that. It's about the night I revived you…I believe there was an unprecedented side-effect I probably should have listened to the lender about." Reaver wiped his nose again. Barry cocked an eyebrow and followed Reaver closely.
Miss Sarah set the table in silence. Usually she'd be busy in the kitchen making breakfast, but something has been distracting her. Rosie walked in with the napkins. "Miss Sarah, are you going to be alright?" asked Rosie, apparently knowing what had her friend in a sour mood as of late.
"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?" asked Miss Sarah.
"Well, for one, you're placing a place at the table for our boss, who's been sick in bed for days. Also, you put down two dessert spoons, a melon baller, and relish fork. And there is no plate…or placemat." said Rosie, matter-of-factly.
Looking at her "handy work", Miss Sarah blushed and started to pick up everything she sat down. Rosie sighed softly and put her hand on Miss Sarah's shoulder. "It's been a few years, but I understand why you still mourn. But you don't have to mourn alone."
With a heart-heavy sigh, Miss Sarah looked up at Rosie and smiled. "Thank you. I guess you know I've been sneaking out to the graveyard on the hill." She said, as she put down a plate.
"You go finish breakfast before Mr. Reaver comes back." Rosie got started on finishing what Miss Sarah started as she made her way to the kitchen.
"What do you mean 'cursed'?!" yelled Barry, as Reaver sat back on his bed.
"Well, I spoke to the lender a few days ago, when you started complaining of headaches and he suggested I start making you drink this around every full moon." Reaver reached into his bedside table drawers and took out an ornate box. Opening it, he handed Barry a small sack. "It's some kind of special tea. I was going to sell it because…come on, cursed statue?" Reaver laughed until he coughed softly. Barry sniffed the small bag and noted it smelt like mint. "It's rare and expensive, so…well, first time's always free." Reaver sang as he started lying down.
Barry didn't know what to make of what he was just told. "You…you ignored something as important as 'cursed' when borrowing an ancient statue!?" panicked Barry.
"Now, now, Hatch, no need to get defensive. Call it a…slight misstep." Reaver blew his nose and laid his head back on his pillow. "Now, take the box and read the instructions inside carefully and see if my breakfast is on its way up."
Holding the box out in front of him, Barry toted it to his room, where he placed it on his dresser. "Years of loyal service and he just 'forgets' to tell me I'm probably cursed…" he murmured to himself. "He didn't explain with what, though…oh well." He shrugged and left the box on his dresser. Leaving his room, he almost bumped into Rosie, carrying a food tray. "Oh, sorry Rosie, I didn't see you there." said Barry, catching the tray.
"Well, try to watch out, Mr. Hatch. I don't want to have Miss Sarah make another plate. She's…not herself lately and we'll leave it at that." said Rosie, passing by.
Barry just stood there, not sure of what to make of what Rosie just said. The rest of the day, Barry avoided the other servants, including Miss Sarah. The evening rolled around, and finally bedtime.
That night, everyone seemed restless. Servants and Master were tossing in their sleep, trying to be comfortable. Reaver's manor seemed to be a symphony of sheets being thrown and bed springs creaking (and it wasn't even one of Reaver's famous after parties). Barry, still in his uniform, walked down to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich to eat with the tea Reaver had given him. He thought it strange when he saw the front door close.
Opening the front door, Barry watched Miss Sarah leave the estate and walk along the path, wearing a shawl around her shoulders. Fearing for her safety, he followed her, but kept his distance. That trigger happy maniac, Finn, might be out tonight he thought.
As if in a trance, Miss Sarah walked up to the graveyard overlooking the lake and knelt down at a grave. Weeds had overgrown on the gravestone, but she knew who it was. She sighed softly as she placed her hand on the headstone. "I know you're there, Mr. Hatch…why did you follow me?" she asked, turning her head slightly.
Barry came from behind a tree and walked up to her, solemnly. "Rosie said you haven't been yourself lately. Is this where you've been disappearing to for the last couple of nights?" he asked.
Miss Sarah nodded softly as she pulled her shawl closer over her shoulders. "This is the grave of my former intended." She whispered softly, as the wind picked up.
Barry blushed and became nervous. "Former intended?" he asked his heart a bit sunk. Miss Sarah nodded.
"Years ago, before I began travelling with the circus, I was to be married to a soldier; one of those purple clad elites. He used to tell me about the brutal training the former king, Logan, used to put him and his peers under. He was one of the best, and though no one thought very highly of the elites, I knew he still had his heart. He was sent overseas with King Logan on some expedition. He never made it back. King Logan commissioned graves be set for the men lost on that expedition, despite none of the bodies being returned. Tonight marks the anniversary of when he asked me to marry him. It was years ago, but I still mourn him as if he died yesterday. I joined up with the circus to escape my parents; they were trying to marry me off so soon after he died. It was there I met Rosie, then Gordon and Beryl, and of course, Willa. As we traveled together, the pain of him dying eased a bit, but I always felt he was never happy with anyone I became…'interested' in. But lately, for the first time since his death, I feel that he is happy and at peace and I feel at peace too…"
"Why do you think that?" asked Barry, as the soft wind blew his orange hair about.
"Because he knows…I'm happy again…" Miss Sarah smiled with a blush, which Barry returned.
"Miss Sarah, may I escort you back?" he asked, offering his arm. With a soft blush and a smile, Miss Sarah took Barry's arm and they happily walked down the path together.
As they reached the gate of Reaver's estate, they both heard a gun cock. "Mr. Hatch, don't move." said Ben, as he slowly stepped closer to them.
Both Barry and Miss Sarah put their arms in the air. "What is the meaning of this?" snapped Barry, as Ben slowly approached Miss Sarah.
"I believe I found my red balverine." He said as he placed the barrel of his rifle to Miss Sarah's back.
"Are you completely insane? Miss Sarah isn't a balverine!" yelled Barry as he turned around to face Ben. His head started to hurt at that point. What a time to get a headache he thought.
The full moon revealed itself from behind the late night clouds. Something very bad was about to happen…
"It's always the dolled up, innocent types that cause the most trouble." said Ben, as he pushed his gun into Miss Sarah's back. "I got a campsite up the hill. I'll keep her in there until morning, see if she turns." He directed Miss Sarah along the path. "I won't hurt you, Miss. I just think you wondering around on nights of attacks and how you simply blow off the wound on your hand like nothing is a bit suspicious."
Before they could make it past the gate, Ben heard a roar behind him. It was a familiar roar, and it gave him a chill down his spine. Miss Sarah turned her head and screamed loudly.
Everyone in the manor woke up, including Reaver. Everyone, still dressed in their pajamas, ran to the foyer in a panic. Reaver, in his bedroom robe and plush slippers, slowly came down the stairs. Even when sick and just getting out of bed, Reaver had to be the best looking person in the room. He held a handkerchief up to his nose and whipped it softly. "Which one of you screamed and woke me up?" asked Reaver, his voice sounding stuffier than it had been lately.
"It sounded like Miss Sarah." said Willa. "But she's…" Willa looked among the crowd. "Where is Miss Sarah? And Mr. Hatch?"
Everyone ran outside and found Ben lying on the ground near the gate. He was alive, but badly injured. "Sleeping on the job? My neighbors will not like it when I tell them about this." said Reaver, jovially through his handkerchief.
Ben got up slowly and rubbed his head. "I don't know what that thing did with Mr. Hatch, but it knocked me down and ran off into Silverpines with your cook." said Ben, leaning against the gate.
"How inconvenient!" Reaver shouted, into his handkerchief. "Where am I going to find a new attendant and cook at this hour?"
Hoping he was joking (he probably wasn't), the other servants ran into the garden and came back with garden tools. "We've got to go after her!" yelled Gordon, holding up his garden hoe. Armed with garden tools, the servants ran up the path toward Silverpines.
Reaver pulled out his gun (which he brought out with him just in case) and smiled. "Sick or not, I love a good scruff! It's good for the blood!" Reaver laughed maniacally and ran after his servants. "Wait for me!"
Ben scratched the back of his head and shrugged. "Ehh, what the hell…" he took out his rifle and followed the group into the woods.
In the Woods
Silverpines was foggy and dense and the group huddled together as Ben and Reaver led the way. "From the reports, villagers believe it lives around the graveyard. He may have made a burrow around that area. Stay close and keep quiet, other balverines might be in the area."
The group seemed uninspired when picking out their weapons. While Gordon had a garden hoe, Beryl had hedge clippers, Rosie carried a shovel, and Willa picked up a steel watering can. "What are you going to do with a watering can, Willa? Overwater it to death?" whispered Rosie.
"Keep it down!" snapped Reaver, holding up his gun. "If I don't shoot a balverine, I will make up for it by shooting loud servants!"
Ben made the signal for the group to stop. He stopped at a tree that had claw marks on it. "They're fresh. He's been in this direction, that much we know." He noted.
Willa looked around the area and found a small shoe. "They were here! This is Miss Sarah's shoe." She shouted as she ran to pick up the shoe.
Looking around, Ben made sure the area was clear. "Stay quiet! We don't want to rouse any other balverines…" Ben shouted, in a hush voice. He spoke too soon as a horrified look took over his face and the faces of the servants as well.
Willa stayed frozen in her bent over position. Her short nightgown revealed her panties to everyone. "Oh, how cute! Frilly and pink, just what I expect from Willa…" joked Reaver. He stopped laughing long enough to look up and see a balverine staring down at Willa. It wasn't the one they were after, but it was scary nonetheless.
"Stay still, Miss. I am going to try and off him before he attacks. Don't make any sudden movements or sounds." said Ben, holding up his rifle. Willa shook nervously as the balverine sniffed her. Flashing its teeth at Willa, she could smell its breath.
"Oh, this is taking too long!" said Reaver, aiming his Dragonstomper. One shot between the eyes and it was down.
The group ran to Willa, who was clutching the shoe tightly. "Its breath was like rancid meat…" she said, as she shook. "I think I may have had an accident, too…" she whined, as Rosie helped her along.
Deeper into the forest they trudged, as Reaver looked at his pocket watch. "The sun should be coming up in a few hours. Don't they sleep during the day?" he asked, closing his pocket watch and placing it back in his robe pocket.
Ben didn't answer; he just held his rifle close and pointed it. "There he is…" he motioned.
The Red Balverine seemed to be digging for something, but when it saw the group, it didn't attack. It darted away. "What the…it's running away?" Ben, shocked and somewhat disappointed, waved at the group to follow him, as he ran through the brush after the balverine.
Trudging through mud and damp grass, the group followed it to the graveyard, which was overcome with fog. "How befitting a chase scene through a monster-infested forest." said Reaver, as they stepped into the fog.
Beryl, holding her hedge clippers close to her chest, shook nervously as they climbed the hill toward the bigger headstones. "W-where did it go?" she asked, but got no answer. The fog had separated her from the group. "Oh no…" she whimpered, trying not to move. The fog was too dense for her to see anyone.
"Beryl?" she heard Rosie yell. "Where are you?"
Beryl looked around at a grave, which was right beside a statue. "I'm next to…I think it's a weeping angel statue." She yelled into the fog.
"Stay there, and don't move, Miss! One of us is coming back for you! It's very important that you don't panic!" yelled Ben.
"Beryl, not panic? You might as well ask for the moon!" said Reaver, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Alright, Gordon, go get her."
"Me? Why me?" Gordon asked.
"Because if I have to replace three servants because you didn't want to go back for one, you'll regret it! Now MOVE!" shouted Reaver, as it sounded like he was shoving Gordon toward Beryl's direction.
She could hear footsteps behind her, and footsteps in front of her. The ones behind her sounded louder and were accompanied by a low growl. "Ne pas me manger! Ne pas me manger!" screamed Beryl, as she lunged behind her with the (closed) hedge clippers.
Before she would do anything, Gordon caught her wrist. "Nothing's going to eat you. Now, follow me." He held her wrist tightly as he led her back to the group.
"C'était derrière moi. Mais c'est la présence feutre familière." whined Beryl, as she made her way back to the group with Gordon.
"She said it was behind her, but its presence felt familiar." said Reaver, whipping his nose again.
"Maybe it wasn't the creature…maybe it was Miss Sarah." said Rosie.
Ben scratched his chin and thought for a second. "Well, maybe she managed to escape it and has been meandering around the forest looking for help. Either way, we won't know for sure until we catch the balverine that took her." He motioned for the group to keep moving.
After an hour or so of walking, the group spotted the Red Balverine, making its way into a small cavern. "We found its home. Now, he's been active tonight, so he'll probably leave again or go to sleep. But since waiting isn't this group's style, obviously, we might be able to storm the cavern and catch it off guard." whispered Ben, as they knelt down behind a large rock. "It is very important that we stay low and keep quiet, as not to arouse the other balverines in the area." Everyone nodded in agreement, except Reaver, whose face shriveled up to sneeze again.
"Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"
The group hid their attempts to keep from laughing, but stopped immediately when they caught the attention of not one, but three balverines, who seemed to be stalking in a nearby tree. "MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" yelled Ben, as they jumped from their hiding spot and ran for the cave. Reaching the cave, they noticed the other balverines stopped just short of the entrance and did nothing.
"Odd…they must fear the Red Balverine." whispered Rosie, as everyone caught their breath.
"Not surprising, it is stronger and a little larger than the other ones." said Ben, getting up from leaning against the cavern walls.
Everyone heard humming from deep in the cavern. "That's Miss Sarah!" shouted Willa, happily. Ben took his oil lamp from his knapsack and lit it up. He waved to the group to follow close as they made their way deep into the cavern.
Reaching the end of the cavern, they found Miss Sarah, sitting on a stack of hay, humming softly. "Miss Sarah!" the servants yelled, running to her. Miss Sarah looked at them and smiled softly. "Shhh…" she put her index finger over her lips. "You'll wake him…" she said, softly.
"Wake who?" asked Reaver, stepping over a few rocks. She pointed to the corner of the cavern, where Barry laid, shivering. His clothes were tattered and his top half was covered only by Miss Sarah's shawl.
"I fainted when that thing attacked us by Mr. Reaver's front gate, and when I woke up, I was here. I found Mr. Hatch not too long ago. I think he's badly hurt. That thing must have grabbed him, too." chirped Miss Sarah.
Barry's clothes were torn, and he had many scratches on him. "We need to get him back to the manor, or he'll die of exposure from those wounds." said Ben, walking with Gordon to help Barry up.
"Are you alright, Miss Sarah?" asked Rosie, helping her up from the hay.
"Yes, I'm fine. He must have been saving me for dessert or something, because it looks like he went to town on Mr. Hatch." whispered Miss Sarah, as everyone made their way out of the cavern.
Funny...we followed it in here...but where did it go? Was the thought on everyone's (except Reaver's) minds.
A few days later, at Reaver's Manor
"He's still sleeping, but other than a few scrapes, he should be fine. The doctor was amazed he survived an attack that severe from a balverine." said Rosie, walking with Ben to the front gate. Ben had come back to check on Miss Sarah and Barry after a few more days of stalking around Silverpines. "Of course, Mr. Reaver is taking the doctor's visit out of Mr. Hatch's pay." Rosie added, as she and Ben arrived at the front gate.
With a smile, Ben nodded to Rosie. "So, how about you then, Rosie? No hard feelings between us?" he asked. Rosie, not one to show much emotion, sighed and nodded.
"No hard feelings, Mr. Finn." She said, with a snide smile.
"Then how about a kiss on the cheek, for old times' sake?" he joked, pointing to his cheek. Leaving with a bruise on his cheek from Rosie's fist, Ben rubbed his cheek with a smile and set off on his next adventure. "She still has a mean right hook." He smiled, as he made his way up the path.
Inside the manor, Barry woke up softly and saw Reaver sitting in a chair next to his bed. He looked like he was feeling better, but couldn't say the same for Barry. "I'm going to assume you know of your 'affliction' now." said Reaver, one leg over the other, hands in his lap. Barry nodded and rubbed his head. "The lender told me the tea won't cure you. Nothing will. But it can keep your 'wild side' under control during the full moons. You might even be able to train yourself to turn into that thing at will. Which would come in handy, should someone come after your beloved Miss Sarah again." He laughed, loving any joke at Barry's expense, and got up.
Barry blushed and sat up. "Miss Sarah and I are only friends, Master Reaver. We've been over this. I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the other servants about this." He tried not to move too much, as his injuries were severe. Reaver got up and started to leave the room.
"Trust me; I have nothing to gain from telling them about your affliction." Barry could tell he was lying, but decided let it be.
Turning the door handle and opening the door, Reaver slowly looked back at Barry. "Hatch, you'll be incapacitated for a few more days, so be ready for a cart load of unfinished work when you get better. Rest up and get well soon!" sang Reaver, closing the door behind him.
Sitting up, Barry looked over at his bedside drawers and saw a wrapped gift. He picked up the card and read it to himself.
"Mr. Reaver said you'd like this.
Get well soon, Mr. Hatch!
Love, Sarah, Rosie, Beryl, Willa, and Gordon"
With a smile, he opened the gift and found a book. "Hobbes of the World." He read from the title. Feeling warmth in his chest, and not just from his bandages, Barry happily opened the book and started to read. He'd have plenty of time to finish it.
The candlelight danced with the shadows of Reaver's office. He looked out the window at the crescent moon overlooking the lake below. "A fine night…" Reaver whispered, sipping his chalice of wine. In the distance, he heard a symphony of howls and though it sent shivers up his spine, he felt oddly comforted as well. He filled his pen from the inkwell and began writing.
"Barry took quite a dealing from some balverines while he was in his 'Wild State' I should call it. The doctor says he won't be able to do anything for a few more days. That's perfectly fine; I could use a break from him anyway. As an apology for having us come all the way out to 'save' her, Miss Sarah will be making her special ravioli tomorrow night. She should get kidnapped more often, if it means she makes something so delicious each time."
Reaver set the ink pen down when he looked over in the corner, seeing the silhouette of the cat in a basket. "Why is that girl's cat still here?" he asked himself softly. He shrugged and started writing again.
"The month is almost up. The servants, despite a few misgivings, are doing well for the most part. As soon as Barry is up and about again, I will have him prepare for a party…a very special party…"
Closing his journal, Reaver stood up and walked to his window and listened to the howling in the distance. "Lovely ambiance, wouldn't you say?" he said to the cat, as it yawned and went back to sleep. "Now, don't you get used to living here. It's not that easy around here."
Blowing out the candle, Reaver made his way out of his office. He smiled sinisterly. "Let the hazing ritual begin…"
N'cha! So, did you like this week's installment? It was a little bit too serious for my tastes, but it just screamed to be told ha-ha. Well, I assumed you all knew Barry was the "Red Balverine" from the start, as I'm not good at being cryptic.
It's mostly based on a fan theory I keep hearing about our beloved Mr. Hatch. One being that he didn't die the night of Reaver's party, but survived and can now change into a balverine. Well, I decided to go somewhere along the lines of that, if you remember the statue from the first story.
I actually at first didn't want to add Ben Finn, but I figured he fit well as the Han Solo type and I didn't want to make up any more new characters at the moment. Anyway, you might see him in a later installment, I haven't decided yet. But, as you can tell by the last part, you'll definitely be seeing more of Benjamina's cat, Reaver, Jr. Or "Reavie" as the servants will start calling her. And it looks like we'll be starting to get to know the servants a little better, too!
Oh, the "trial period" is almost up for the servants; which means it's time to see if they really have what it takes to work for Reaver. The series is not over yet, oh, not by a long shot. The next installment may take me a little while, but I promise you won't be disappointed.
As always, review and be merry!
Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Ben Finn belong to Lionhead.