Chap 5

Erik did not know when he had fallen asleep, but his eyes opened slowly. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. The bedroom was dark, hazy, and mysterious. Only a few lamps were lit, turned down low, creating an amber glow in the room. He looked over to his left and saw Elaine lying on the chaise lounge, sleeping. He put his head back on the pillow and stared at her, her face glowing softly in the dim light of the room. He became entranced by her sleeping form, her chest rising and falling gently with her breathing. Her hands were wrapped delicately around a small book that was about to fall as her body relaxed with sleep.

Those hands, those beautiful hands. They are as soft as velvet yet powerful. She is a person who speaks with her gentle touch as well as that soft voice. Every time she touches me, casually or purposefully, my body awakens, as if I had never been touched before. I yearn physically for it.

Even so, Erik felt awkward in her presence; in anyone's presence for that matter. When Dr. Dyson had touched him earlier, he felt nothing but annoyance with discomfort. He was thankful when the examination came to an end. Erik believed these feelings were just part and parcel of the amnesia that Dr. Dyson spoke of.

A cold breeze blew through the sheer curtains, sending the shadows dancing as the flames of the lamps moved. The breeze sent an uncomfortable chill down his back and he instantly felt a pain shoot through his head.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" A cold, low cynical laugh started softly then rose in volume. He looked towards Elaine, alarmed. She still slept undisturbed.

Did she not hear this foreboding cackle as well? A shuffling noise arose from a dark corner of the room and an image appeared, the image of a man. It floated out of the shadows, as if being formed by them.

I must be dreaming this. This cannot be happening. He thought. The visage of this specter became clearer. It was a tall man with dark hair wrapped in a dark cape. As he came closer, the specter's head rose and the cape parted. On his face was a shiny black mask that covered most of the face above the mouth, except for piercing eyes. A ruffled white shirt was opened revealing part of his chest surrounded by a form fitting black suit. His mouth was in the shape of a twisted little smile that made Erik uneasy.

"How was your slumber?" said the man, in a strangely familiar, melodic growl. Not waiting for a response he walked over to Elaine's sleeping form and knelt down before her, humming a sensual melody.

"Ah, I like this one, too." The man raised a black gloved hand and ran it along her delicate chin, down her languid neck to between her breasts. Elaine only stirred slightly as if disturbed by nothing more than the breeze. Erik struggled to utter a word of warning but no sound came from his lips. He felt paralyzed. The man was aware of Erik's attempts to move, and turned to look at him.

"Why so silent, good Monsieur? You are distraught." The masked specter stood up and walked slowly to the foot of the bed, the cape flapping in the cold breeze. Erik felt himself shiver uncontrollably.

"Don't you recognize me?" The piercing eyes began to glow. With a fluid movement, the man turned, covering himself with the cape and disappearing before Erik's unbelieving eyes. Erik gaze darted around the room, searching for clues as to where the eerie man went. Slowly, Erik was able to rise up from the bed. He looked into the mirror across from him. There was the masked man, sitting on the bed staring back at him…

"Ha, Ha ha, ha, ha !"

Elaine came back to Erik's room with a tray of food. She found Erik sleeping soundly again. She walked closer to him to stir him but thought against it. She rested the tray on the table and she shifted her gaze to the bookshelves. She thumbed through and picked out some books written in French for Erik to read. Sitting down on the lounge, she and opened the first one she had found: The Charterhouse of Parma by Stendhal. After reading the introduction, she closed the book and looked at Erik lying in the bed. From her vantage point, she saw only the left side of his face.

From this angle, he is actually quite pleasant to look at. Had he not had the misfortune of his deformity on the other side, he would be considered quite a handsome man, I suppose.

Her mind drifted to another time she had looked at Erik quietly like this, several days before he regained his consciousness. Her thoughts were very different then.

Elaine had requested that Nate come to help her to give the stranger, now known as Erik, a more thorough cleaning. His fevers had subsided and she believed him out of danger of death. Even though he was a slender fellow, he was tall and muscular, thus heavy; it was too difficult for her and Marjorie to turn in the soft bed, and change the sheets after a thorough drenching. She was worried that there may be wounds festering where they could not easily see. Nate was happy to oblige, he had wanted to see how the man was doing anyway. Once in the room, Elaine closed the windows so the room would be warm but left the drapes pulled so it would be bright.

"He still looks very pale to me." Nate said, as he set down the bucket of hot soapy water.

"Yes, he has very light skin, but I think that is because of a lack of familiarity with the sun. He definitely has more color now than when he came." Said Elaine, as she set down some linens and wash cloths. "Well, shall we begin?"

"Won't he wake up when we do this?" Said Nate.

"I don't know Nate, but if he does, that would be a good thing." She smiled back.

They rolled him over and in the brightness of the room she inspected the back of his torso, his buttocks and legs. Luckily, no major wounds were there- just a few reddened scrapes and a general pink color from lying in one place for so long. She washed him gently, feeling the muscles under his skin move reflexively in response to the touch of a wet cloth. He had strange ridges running up and down his back, even on his legs.

"What gives you pause, my lady?" said Nate, noting the puzzlement on Elaine's pretty face. He leaned on over to take a look.

All up and down the Erik's back, buttocks and legs were pale, shiny scars. Scars of many, many beatings. Nate suddenly felt angered at the sight. He grew ill at the thought of his own set, badges of pain that he wore silently on his back.

We are blood brothers in more ways than one, cleric. He thought, memories of his younger days of despair and pain flooding his thoughts.

Elaine looked up at Nate, whose face, usually jovial, became drawn and dark. His eyes grew cold and angry.

Certainly, my darling Elaine would know nothing about these dreadful marks. He thought.

"Those, my lady," Nate said, his voice low with anger, "are from beatings. Whippings, to be precise. And from the looks of it, many bad beatings, from long ago."

Elaine looked up at Nate again. She saw that he knew about these scars. Too well. She realized that he knew about these types of scars personally. He shot her a look of pain then averted his eyes. Elaine had to cover her mouth to hold back the bitter bile that was edging up her throat as the realization sank into her. She had seen the devastation of disease and what that could do to a body, but not often had she seen the scars of abuse. This was indicative of abuse so extensive, the thought of the pain nearly made her faint. She clasped her hands tight, digging her nails into her palm to keep her mind clear.

They stood for a few moments in still silence. Nate suddenly felt naked in front of the woman he thought of as a daughter. More controlled now, he cleared his throat.

"Let us finish with this, Elaline. I have some other things to attend to." She nodded silently and proceeded with the sponge bath. Looking now with knowing eyes, she saw the painful reminders of torture all over Erik's body. There were so many scars.

When they had finished, and Erik was tucked securely in a warm, dry bed, clothed with clean sleeping attire, Nate left without a word. Elaine maintained her silence and distance from Nate in quiet understanding. Slowly, she sat on the bed next to Erik's arm, stroking it tenderly.

Who did this to you, Sir? What vile being treated you like that? Her heart was heavy, a lump securely wedged in her throat. She then picked up Erik's uninjured hand and kissed the masculine fingers, holding them against her face.

"I'm so sorry." She said, a tear leaking from her eye.

Elaine looked back at Erik as she remembered the sponge bath incident. She actually felt a little ashamed of knowing something so personal, so terrible about him. Erik's face then twisted to a frown and he tossed a little. Elaine shook her head.

"What demons keep you from quiet rest, Erik?" She said softly as she approached the bed. She was hoping that his fits during sleep would have ended with his awakening. The unconscious movements were becoming quite violent and she felt that he would wake himself up with the pain of moving his broken limbs.

In the bed, he had started to sweat, so she pulled back his covers and gently tapped on his shoulder.

"No, no, no!" he said with angst as she shook him a little more firmly in order to awaken him. His eyes opened with fear. He grabbed at her hand with his good arm roughly. She let out a gasp of pain. She would definitely be more careful when she awoke him next time.

"Oh, Elaine! It is you." He said, his head dropping back and his eyes softening. He looked apologetically at her as she pulled her arm away and rubbed her hand. "I'm so sorry! Did I…"

"It's alright Erik, please, say no more about it." She interrupted, speaking sternly. Turning away from Erik to go to the table she held her hand and rubbed it again, this time out of view. He really did hurt her, his grip was very strong. She looked down at the indentations his nails left on her arm.

Back in the bed, Erik brought himself up to sitting. Looking at Elaine at the table, Erik's heart sunk as he saw her nursing her arm. Several seconds later, she turned around with a sweet smile upon her face. It only made him feel that much worse…

"I brought you some food, Erik." She said, as she sat on the bed next to him, her hand cradling a bowl filled with something that looked like porridge. "I apologize in advance for the blandness, but we have to make sure your body is ready to accept food before we get too fancy." She smiled, making his heart ache.

"I am sure anything will taste great." He said, now famished. She spooned the warm cereal into his mouth like a child.

Elaine was correct in her judgment. Erik struggled with the first few swallows, but in short order, he finished the bowl. Afterward, she handed him some brown bread with butter which he took thankfully.

Finally, something solid. He thought, but soon he was grimacing with discomfort. Even chewing hurt.

"You have to take it slow, Erik. Everything will hurt. You should have seen how badly beaten you were when you first came to us. You looked awful, just terrible…" Elaine halted mid sentence. She bit onto her lip, cursing herself internally for the poor choice of words.

Noticing she had fallen silent suddenly, Erik looked up at her face. Her eyes were avoiding his gaze. He could see in her flushing cheeks that she was afraid that she had offended him. He smiled to himself; he already had figured out that Elaine was far too kind hearted to be talking about anything other than his injuries.

"I know what you meant, Elaine. I take no offense from your words." He said. She nodded, but still avoided his gaze, awkwardly. After a particularly painful swallow, Erik coughed.

"Can I have something to drink?" he asked, between coughs. Elaine practically jumped up and rushed over to give him a drink of some juice. She stayed, rubbing his back firmly until his coughing subsided.

"What was your dream about? If you don't mind me asking." she said, swiftly trying to change the subject. She did not want to seem as if she was tiptoeing around him. He was very intelligent and intuitive, that was easy to see.

"I can barely remember it now. It was probably just a silly nightmare." He said. What he had said was a lie. The man's glowing eyes still burned behind his eyelids, and the evil laugh still echoed in his ears. He just really did not want to talk about it. He would rather strike the memory of it from his brain. It bothered him…he knew the dream probably meant something. What, he did not want to venture a guess at that moment.

"You have been through enough to warrant quite a few nightmares." She said.

She leaned over to retrieve the books she had gathered, brushing his shoulder lightly. He turned to face her, and was met by her scent. She smelled fresh and clean, faintly like flowers.

"I picked out a few books for you to read. These are in French. This room is my father's favorite library, there are many famous literary works in here. There are many other books in French, German, Danish, and English in this library, and we have several other rooms in the house with books. My father believes one should read as much as humanly possible, that it expands your mind and soul like nothing else can. You have them all at your disposal. Oh, and my father has an academic library in his office down below if you are so inclined." She smiled. "I rather like historical novels."

"I'm afraid I don't know what I like just yet." He said, returning her smile. Another lie.
Elaine reached over his head to grab a tasseled cord and lay it over his headboard. This action brought her even closer to him than before. His eyes closed as he inhaled her sweet scent again. She obviously had no idea how her close vicinity was affecting him.

"When you pull on this cord it rings a bell in the kitchen, somebody will hear it and come to see you." She said. He nodded, but did not like the idea of just 'somebody' coming in to see him. He had grown quite comfortable with Elaine as his contact.

"You will be laid up for a while, with your injuries and all. I will come to see you as often as time permits." She said, standing up and curling up in the chaise lounge next to the bed.

"I would really like that, Elaine." He breathed in deeply. Just her closeness filled him with comfort.

They spent the better part of the afternoon talking, or rather Elaine talking and Erik listening as he finished every scrap of food she had brought. She described the land of the manor and went briefly into the history of their family in the great little land of Luxembourg. Without a memory, Erik did not have much to say at first. That would change.