Chap 41

All was quiet in Capellen the next morning. It had been over twenty-four hours and many strained hearts were wondering about the fate of Elaine and Roland.

Erik had withdrawn into himself, becoming quite sullen and remote. He remained on his own during the morning, going for a long walk, not saying so much as a word to anyone. Early that afternoon, he returned. He walked out to the terrace beyond the parlor, and stood on the far end, leaning on the banister. Out there, the place where stood with Elaine that first night he returned to Capellen, his pent up emotions started to burst forth. He covered his eyes with a shaking hand, rocking back and forth, trying to suppress the screaming within him. His head was pounding with the force of a stampede; his grief threatening to crush him.

Marjorie walked out to the terrace, exasperated. She had been looking for Erik everywhere, all morning. She stopped short, interpreting his stance correctly; his raised shoulders betrayed his anguish. She stayed put until saw him turn his head her way. She brought a steaming, thick beverage in a cup into his view. Erik looked at her offering with hollow, aggrieved eyes. He shook his head and grunted. She reached out and put a small hand on his arm. He pulled his arm away roughly, Marjorie's soft woman's touch reminding him agonizingly of Elaine, and how much he was missing her touch against his skin. He was two seconds from exploding. Marjorie did not back down.

"Erik. You have not eaten anything in over a day. You must keep up your strength. Drink this, if not for yourself; for her," she said succinctly in French. He took the drink and looked away, muttering a word of thanks, wishing her gone. He wanted to be alone, but could not bring himself to walk away from the manor house. He wanted to hear any word the moment it came. He heard Marjorie move away from him. He lowered his head.

"I am sorry, Marjorie," he said, his fingers resuming the assault on his brow.

"No apology needed," she replied quietly, before the click of the door signaled to him that he was again alone.

He stood there staring over the manor lands, thoughts of Elaine torturing him until the door opened again.

"Erik. Your presence is requested."

Erik turned to look into the face of Nate, his solemn expression mirroring his own. Erik followed Nate to Dr. Dyson's office in silence.

Walking in behind Nate, Erik surveyed the room. A haggard, apprehensive Dr. Dyson was sitting at his desk. In front of him, in one of the armchairs was a young blonde woman, her eyes wide, her glance nervously darting about the room. She was obviously frightened. Across from her sat Angelique. Adolph stood by the window, the mid-morning sun streaming through the gossamer curtains in front of him. His was a stance of concern. Jacques and Bruno also stood nearby. The silence was deafening.

Nate moved aside, letting Erik be seen by all. When Erik turned his eyes back towards her, the young woman gasped with fright and looked at Angelique for reassurance. Erik looked away, feeling anger bristling within him. He was in no mood to deal with that type of reaction this day.

From their appearances, Angelique, Adolph and this woman had dressed hastily, and appeared to have not slept, slight blue circles under their eyes. Angelique connected glances with Erik, the slightest smile of greeting crossing her lips, her head tilting for a slight nod.

"We rode all night when we found out what happened," Angelique said, staring at Erik. Erik walked over to a bookcase against the wall, away from the young woman's glance. He looked back at Angelique with questioning eyes.

"Good. Now that everyone important is here, Heather, I want you to tell these men what you have told me."

"A-about the castle?" She said, in a meek, quiet voice.

"Yes, Heather. About Castle Boursheid," said Angelique, scooting closer to the woman, capturing her complete attention. Angelique smiled at her and held her hand.

"Alright, Mistress Angelique. I am, I mean was, one of the maids in the castle. Things had been getting much worse since your brother, the Marquis, moved in. There have been so many strange things occurring. The lands are unkempt, and the vile men he keeps around him don't even speak to us, and they set up camp wherever they choose. And he keeps doing terrible things…it has been awful Mistress," said the now tearful woman. "It was such a beautiful place."

"I know Heather. Please, tell them what happened last week," Angelique said, trying her best to soothe the woman.

"L-last week, he sent all the people who had lived on the Castle grounds away. Most of us, that is. He kept Sedrick, the head servant and one of the cooks, and he kept me because he wanted me to pick up after him. I was so scared of him, Mistress…"

"Why did you come to me, Heather?" Angelique said, her patience waning.

"It was the strange request. I was told to set up the Countess suite next to his bedroom and to fill it with clothes, and perfumes and toiletries…"

"Why did that strike you as strange?" Asked Angelique. "You told me that he kept a couple of harlots there for his pleasure."

"He had sent away his women, the ones he was keeping, last week…the ones I used to hear screaming with him at night. But he had specific orders for me to make the bed in that suite and to keep the door locked. He wanted the place ready for a guest…" Heather said.

Erik smashed his fist into the wall next to him, making a hole, sending books falling off the nearby shelf. Everyone in the room jumped. He strode to the door and whipped it open violently.

"I have heard ENOUGH!" Erik yelled, the anger within him rising. He found his way out of the house, slamming doors open in his haste, everyone getting out of his way as he stormed out. His breath became quickened and forced, a pain wedging itself in his chest. As he walked down the road, he screamed out, a blood curdling, primal yell, his body shaking with the effort. He walked towards the barn and circled it, pacing back and forth, shaking with intense anger. The regret and pain erupted. He grabbed a rake and started to assault the back corner of the barn, shouting curses and screaming. Splintered wood flew everywhere. All Erik could see was the color red as every muscle in his body contracted.

"I should have killed him! I should have broken his goddamn neck! I should have torn his head from his body!" He screamed.

Finally the shaft of the rake shattered. He smashed the now fragmented handle into the ground. There he stood, shaking, staring before him. A dark, bitter calmness came over him. The only thing, the only entity that could control him in his present state, took over his psyche. He walked rapidly down to the river cabin.

Once in the little place, he glanced around, wincing, his heart being stung by sweet, tender memories. He pulled the drapes over the large window, shutting out the bright rays of the sun. He found the hatred that was buried deep in his soul and used it to dull the pain raging within him. He walked over to the closet and dragged out the bag that Nadir had given him. He dumped the contents onto the floor. One by one, he picked up select articles, his mind becoming clearer and clearer by the second. New intent made him stop shaking.

A short time later, Erik was dressed from head to toe in black. He slowly slid the dagger he held into the sheath wrapped around his thigh. On his side hung his sword with the skull on the hilt, and a rather large, rather sharp hunting knife.

He looked down, his fingers nimbly tying the very familiar knot, the catgut feeling correct in his hands, the sinew of his most effective weapon awakening old, wicked memories.

The Punjab garrote hung from his hand, at the ready, in moments.

A firm knock came on the door. He did not respond. The knock came again, louder this time.

"Leave me alone," Erik said coldly.

"No," was the reply. He growled to himself as he heard to door creaking open. He placed the garrote in its usual hiding place on his person, and then turned to face the intruder. A stone faced Angelique walked in, shock flitting over her features briefly as her eyes, blinded by the sun she had been standing in, adjusted to the low light in the cabin. She slowly took him in. He looked down and pulled on his leather gloves.

"Why did you not prevent this, Angelique?" He said, his wide eyed, piercing glare visibly affecting the woman before him, producing a tremble in her lips. His hair was pulled back and slicked against his head, making him look menacing. She soon regained her composure.

"Heather ran away from there only a few days ago, coming to speak to me, hoping that I could help by talking some sense into my brother. But I would not waste my time on such a worthless endeavor. I took her in, under my employ. She told me of Montague's strange request last night, after we had heard that Elaine was missing, I added one and one together. We both came to the same conclusion, I see," she said, looking at the weapons hanging from his belt. He breathed deeply.

"I guess I cannot blame you. I blame myself for my lack of action even more now. Tell me one thing: Is he truly capable of hurting her?" He asked, folding his gloved hands before him, cracking his knuckles loudly.

"Montague has changed over the years, growing more and more brutal. The last time I saw him, I saw nothing but an evil being. I do not know to what lengths he will go to achieve his goal," Angelique said, shuddering suddenly, as the dark specter before her turned, the matte black cloak spinning.

"And what is that?" Erik said, walking up to the table, spreading his long fingers and drawing them across the sheets of music slowly.

"He wanted to bed Elaine. Always has." Angelique said.

Erik, gripped with sudden spike in rage, threw the table over, provoking a cry of shock from Angelique, who was now trembling. There was the sound of footsteps on the front porch.

"Angelique?!" The worried voice of Adolph was heard through the door.

"I am fine, Adolph! Do not enter!" Angelique said loudly, trying hard not to let her fear be heard. "Are you who I think you are? The ghost, the man…from the Paris opera house?" Erik heard her low, trembling voice say. Erik glared at her, as he quieted himself after his latest outburst.

"Your brother has successfully resurrected me," he said, his voice just a hair above a growl, turning and approaching her. He stood tall, in full glory before Angelique. "You will take me to him, Angelique," Erik said, his green eyes intense and searing. Her eyes suddenly turned strangely cold. She shook her head.

"Montague tortured me for years, until I was strong enough to refuse the things he did to me…" She lost her voice and turned away from his gaze, starting to stare at the floor. Her face flushed and she breathed in hard. She started to walk towards the window, her face showing her anger. "I know full well what he is capable of," she said, bitterness in her tone. Erik's eyebrows raised as realization swept over him. He looked at Angelique differently now, with renewed venom towards her brother.

"I cannot promise that you will have a brother by the days end," Erik said as she backed away from him.

"He has dug his own grave, Erik," was the quiet reply. Their eyes connected again, in silent agreement.

"If he has indeed taken them, I promise you, his screams will be heard by the hounds of hell itself. If he has killed them, his death will take days to achieve…" Erik warned darkly. They both stood still in the dim light. Eventually, Angelique moved towards the door.

"It is about twenty miles to Castle Boursheid, but via inhospitable terrain. Carriage will take too long. On horseback, it will take a half a day at least," she said, under her breath.

"Then we must hurry, to get there by the cover of darkness," he said, opening the door. He stopped short at the sight before him.

Outside, beneath the trees, three men stood before four horses, Caesar among them. They were all dressed in dark clothing, bundled and ready for travel. Nate had a knife at his waist, a sword on his back, his arms crossed before him. Brutus and Adolph were similarly adorned, but also had guns strapped to them. They all shared the same expression of intent. Erik shook his head.

"No! I do this alone!" he blurted out.

"The castle is surrounded and guarded by too many mercenaries, Erik. I know you are capable of much, but these stakes are too high. Nate will be able to lead you there. As much as you may want to, you will not be going alone," Angelique said, her tone final.

"If you do not agree, I will not lead you to him," said Nate, his words clear. "We refuse to just sit back and wait. Just like you."

They had anticipated Erik's resistance and had planned for it. Erik looked at each man in turn, seeing the conviction in their gaze. He realized quickly that resistance was futile.

"I slow down for no one. I insist that I enter the Castle alone. Stealth is less effective in numbers." He said, shooting glances to all. They all nodded in agreement.

"Come, I will tell you what I know of the inside of the Castle," said Angelique. They walked back into the house and Angelique sketched out the configuration of the castle and its grounds quickly on a piece of staff paper, describing the layout of the floors the halls and stairs rapidly as Erik listened intently. He needed no repetition.

They left Angelique at the manor house on their way out. Dr. Dyson stood before the house, outside on the path, his heavy heart showing through an uncharacteristic hunch in his shoulders. He signaled Erik to come to him. Erik complied, trotting over to him astride Caesar.

"Do whatever you must, Erik," was the patriarch's command.