Post by Lorpius Prime on Mar 20, 2007 23:41:11 GMT -5
They were fortunate; Farragut’s horse was tied up just beyond a bend in the path. Even so, by the time they’d led it back to the carriage, Jay’s shoes were so covered in muck that he couldn’t tell where they ended and his pants began. The road they’d been traveling on was of decidedly poor quality, and the downpour was only getting worse.
When they opened the carriage doors, they found Farragut had passed out entirely. Jack cut the bindings he’d made with the major’s clothing and shook him, hard. One of the man’s eyes fluttered, the other was swelling shut. Jack dragged him out of the carriage.
“You’re not finished yet, lout,” Jack growled, “time to stand and deliver.”
Farragut didn’t seem like he was going to be able to stay standing for long, but it wasn’t necessary. They pulled him over the back of his horse so that he was lying on his stomach; Jack retied his hands and feet. They did their best to secure him to the saddle, but it was going to be a rough ride.
Jack finished tugging on a knot and turned to Jay, whose arms were still clasped about him, but was no longer shaking, “So where to, Blake?”
Jay opened his mouth to tell the Australian that he didn’t have the faintest notion, but shut it again.
“That way,” he nodded to his left, “back the way we came.”
Jack nodded and grabbed the horse’s reins to begin leading it and its human cargo along. “Seems they took us by some back road. Lucky they did, too, or someone would have passed along by now and asked some tough questions.”
Jay didn’t say anything.
“All the same,” Jack continued, “someone’s going to come through here eventually. And when they do, it won’t be long before Captain Diener finds out what happened to his man back there. He’ll come looking for us.”
They were coming back out from behind the hill again. The trees stopped too, grass took their place. Jay’s eyes were darting about, looking for signs of nearby settlement. He didn’t want to have to walk all the way back to the river from here through the rain.
Jack shrugged, “Well I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to be caught in a manhunt. We’ll want to make ourselves scarce soon.”
It was hard to see because of the way the rain wet the brush and muddied the ground, but Jay thought there might be a trail leading off the road and back up the hill.
Something grabbed his shoulder. Jack had stopped leading the horse and was pressing his nose into Jay’s face. “Are you listening? They’re going to kill us.”
Jay looked at him. Jack’s hat was rather practical; it was keeping most of the rain out of his face and eyes. Jay’s cap might as well not have been there, it had long ago turned into a wet rag.
“I think there might be a house up there,” he uncurled his right arm to point up the hill. “We should look.”
For a minute, Jack looked like he wanted to shake Jay as hard as he’d been shaking Farragut a while ago. But he sighed and let go of the soaked reporter. “Over the hills it is.” He tugged on the reins of the horse.
The ground was actually harder off the road, and Jay’s feet no longer sunk several inches into mud with each step.
Truth be told, Jay had been listening to Jack; the reason he didn’t answer was that he didn’t know what to do about their predicament. He didn’t want to think about it just yet either. He’d nearly died just a few minutes ago; he wasn’t ready to contemplate it again.
And the sight of Corporal Gerber, face deep in the mud like that. Dead. Killed by Jack. Jack who was currently humming some kind of light-hearted tune to himself. Like nothing had happened. Jay shuddered in disgust.
Major Farragut’s face hadn’t held the faintest sign of emotion, of conscience, when he’d been about to shoot Jay. He wondered if Jack looked the same way when he was killing Gerber.
They’d tried to kill him. He’d nearly died. If he hadn’t kicked Farragut’s hand away…
“Accept and live with it or don’t climb the tree,” he muttered.
Jack glanced over his shoulder, “Say something?”
Jay scowled at him.
Jack shrugged and returned to his tune. He sang out loud now, “Oh, some take delight in the drinking and the roving. Some take delight in gambling and in smoking!”
He turned and winked at Jay. “But I take delight in the juice of the barley, and courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early!”
He returned to humming, but Jay felt his fists clenching in rage. How could he do that? He could he just blow off everything that just happened like that? It wasn’t right, it wasn’t even human.
Unable to take it anymore, Jay collapsed to his knees and lost his breakfast on the soggy ground. He dry retched a few times after it was all gone.
Jack came padding over, “Shit. Ah shit, Blake. Are you all right?”
Jay nodded, hazily and slowly. He’d dug up a couple clumps of grass with his fingers.
“Are you certain?” Jack knelt. “I think you were right, it looks like there is a house up here, just ahead. We’ll get you inside.”
“How do you do it, Jack? How—“ he heaved again, producing nothing.
Jack steadied him, then grabbed Jay under the shoulder and pulled him to his feet. “What do you mean?” The horse, without anyone holding its reins, sneezed and lowered its head to the grass behind Jack.
Jay coughed a couple times, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Back there. You killed the corporal. Shot him. How can you do that?”
“You mean the German bloke who was trying to kill us? I hope you don’t think I enjoyed it. But he was shooting right back at me.”
“I know, I know.” He shook his head in resignation, “I just…” he didn’t know.
Jack patted him on the back, “You’re not a fighter, Mr. Blake. Most people aren’t.”
“They’re going to kill me, Jack.” His voice was desperate now, “I don’t even know what I’ve done and they’re going to kill me.”
Jack was pushing him gently back towards the horse, “No one’s going to kill you, Mr. Blake.”
“But you said yourself—“
“I know what I said. But trust me, no one is going to kill you. You will be all right. Now come on, let’s get to this house up here and get out of this damned rain.”
Jay accepted this without much thinking because it was easier. The two of them kept walking.
The building they were now approaching was decidedly larger than the Heinrich Glunz’s farmhouse where they’d found shelter the previous day. It was not humble; Jay doubted very much that its owners did any farming of their own. It was a manor house, and it was not the least bit inviting.
It did not sit at the top of the hill just at the edge of the trees, it loomed there. Its construction was dark and gothic and gave the impression that whoever had built had at first been constructing a fortress before deciding on a home when halfway done.
The stormy sky provided a dark green backdrop to the place which was positively eerie. A bolt of lightning struck somewhere in the distance behind the house, sending a flock of crows swarming and cawing over their heads.
Jack followed the birds with his head. When they were gone, he looked at Jay, “Now a part of me is saying we should turn back right now. The other part wants to march straight on in there after that kind of display.”
This elicited a genuine chuckle from Jay. He was too wet and tired to care about a handful of birds. Nor was he superstitious enough to care had he been dry and jolly either.
They walked right up to the front door, there didn’t seem to be a fence or gate of any kind. Jack seemed frustrated by the lack of a post to tie up the horse. Jay tried to squeeze himself under the little archivolt above the great wooden front doors. It didn’t do much to stop the rain.
There was a large brass knocker in the center of the doors, some kind of face twisted in a grotesque scream. Jay placed a hand on it. At first, it slipped through his slimy fingers. But he wound his fingers around it a second time, lifted, and dropped.
The whole house thundered.
Jack had given up on tying up the horse, and was now dragging a tied up and still unconscious Farragut towards the doors. He tried getting out of the rain too, and had about as much luck as Jay had.
“Do you think they’ll let us in or shoot us as bandits?” he joked.
Jay looked over his dirt-smeared self, “I suppose we don’t appear very presentable.”
“No help for it. I just hope they open up quickly.”
‘They’ took their time. Jay was starting to wonder if he was going to have to suggest that Jack break a window when an echoing sound of heavy latches being turned rang out from behind the doors.
The one on the right, to which the knocker was affixed, began to swing inward. Jay and Jack both crowded near the opening, though Jay had the better view as he was not worried with dragging a limp body.
Not that there was anything to see, at first. The door opened onto pure blackness. The door stopped once it was a quarter open, and they still couldn’t see anything beyond it.
A light did at last appear, a faint yellow glow which filled out the shape of an old lantern. Its panes were so foggy, however, that it did not appear to illuminate anything but itself. The result was that Jay at first had a horrifying impression of a lantern being held aloft by a bloodless severed human hand. Jay stepped back instinctively when this apparition bobbed and moved towards him.
It was not a severed hand. Its owner, a man, appeared behind it, but he was not a pleasant sight himself. Some corner of Jay’s mind wondered if he was looking at a ghost before he discarded the notion. The man was merely very pale. His skin was nearly as white as the powdered wig he seemed to be wearing, though it had a faint sickly hue. The only color about him at all was two blotches of red beneath his bloodshot eyes.
Those eyes scanned over Jay, Jack, and Farragut slowly before returning to meet Jay’s stare directly.
“Yes?” His voice was deep and smooth, but seemed to have a faint echo which Jay put down to the cavernous space behind him.
“Ah, e—excuse use,” Jay stuttered, a little disconcerted by the man’s gaze. “But we need… we need… you’re speaking English?”
“I think you will find that ‘yes’ is a common enough word for the Germans even though it is not native to these lands,” he responded simply. “But you need something?”
“Uh, yes. This man,” he gestured to Farragut, “needs medical attention. We were hoping you might help…”
The pale man took another look at Farragut. Then, without a word, he thrust the lantern into Jay’s hands and strode forward, not seeming to mind getting the tails of his flowing purple robe wet. Jay juggled the lantern, but managed not to drop it. The man who’d given it to him bent over Farragut and pulled open his eyes with slender chalky fingers.
“Do you know of a nearby doctor?” Jack asked.
“This man doesn’t need a doctor. He needs a miracle, bring him inside.”
And he walked—fairly glided—back into the cavernous black of his house, not even retrieving the lantern from Jay.
Jack and Jay looked at each other, Jack shrugged. Jay held out the lantern and its meager light before him and followed their unusual host while Jack dragged the slumped major in behind, three pairs of feet left six streaks of mud in their wake.
Book One, Chapter:
-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-
-22-23-24-25-26-27-28-29-30-31-32-33-34-35-36-37-38-39-40-41-42-
-43-44-45-46-47-48-49-50-51-52-53-54-55-56-57-58-59-60-61-62-
Appendix: -A-B-C-
When they opened the carriage doors, they found Farragut had passed out entirely. Jack cut the bindings he’d made with the major’s clothing and shook him, hard. One of the man’s eyes fluttered, the other was swelling shut. Jack dragged him out of the carriage.
“You’re not finished yet, lout,” Jack growled, “time to stand and deliver.”
Farragut didn’t seem like he was going to be able to stay standing for long, but it wasn’t necessary. They pulled him over the back of his horse so that he was lying on his stomach; Jack retied his hands and feet. They did their best to secure him to the saddle, but it was going to be a rough ride.
Jack finished tugging on a knot and turned to Jay, whose arms were still clasped about him, but was no longer shaking, “So where to, Blake?”
Jay opened his mouth to tell the Australian that he didn’t have the faintest notion, but shut it again.
“That way,” he nodded to his left, “back the way we came.”
Jack nodded and grabbed the horse’s reins to begin leading it and its human cargo along. “Seems they took us by some back road. Lucky they did, too, or someone would have passed along by now and asked some tough questions.”
Jay didn’t say anything.
“All the same,” Jack continued, “someone’s going to come through here eventually. And when they do, it won’t be long before Captain Diener finds out what happened to his man back there. He’ll come looking for us.”
They were coming back out from behind the hill again. The trees stopped too, grass took their place. Jay’s eyes were darting about, looking for signs of nearby settlement. He didn’t want to have to walk all the way back to the river from here through the rain.
Jack shrugged, “Well I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to be caught in a manhunt. We’ll want to make ourselves scarce soon.”
It was hard to see because of the way the rain wet the brush and muddied the ground, but Jay thought there might be a trail leading off the road and back up the hill.
Something grabbed his shoulder. Jack had stopped leading the horse and was pressing his nose into Jay’s face. “Are you listening? They’re going to kill us.”
Jay looked at him. Jack’s hat was rather practical; it was keeping most of the rain out of his face and eyes. Jay’s cap might as well not have been there, it had long ago turned into a wet rag.
“I think there might be a house up there,” he uncurled his right arm to point up the hill. “We should look.”
For a minute, Jack looked like he wanted to shake Jay as hard as he’d been shaking Farragut a while ago. But he sighed and let go of the soaked reporter. “Over the hills it is.” He tugged on the reins of the horse.
The ground was actually harder off the road, and Jay’s feet no longer sunk several inches into mud with each step.
Truth be told, Jay had been listening to Jack; the reason he didn’t answer was that he didn’t know what to do about their predicament. He didn’t want to think about it just yet either. He’d nearly died just a few minutes ago; he wasn’t ready to contemplate it again.
And the sight of Corporal Gerber, face deep in the mud like that. Dead. Killed by Jack. Jack who was currently humming some kind of light-hearted tune to himself. Like nothing had happened. Jay shuddered in disgust.
Major Farragut’s face hadn’t held the faintest sign of emotion, of conscience, when he’d been about to shoot Jay. He wondered if Jack looked the same way when he was killing Gerber.
They’d tried to kill him. He’d nearly died. If he hadn’t kicked Farragut’s hand away…
“Accept and live with it or don’t climb the tree,” he muttered.
Jack glanced over his shoulder, “Say something?”
Jay scowled at him.
Jack shrugged and returned to his tune. He sang out loud now, “Oh, some take delight in the drinking and the roving. Some take delight in gambling and in smoking!”
He turned and winked at Jay. “But I take delight in the juice of the barley, and courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early!”
He returned to humming, but Jay felt his fists clenching in rage. How could he do that? He could he just blow off everything that just happened like that? It wasn’t right, it wasn’t even human.
Unable to take it anymore, Jay collapsed to his knees and lost his breakfast on the soggy ground. He dry retched a few times after it was all gone.
Jack came padding over, “Shit. Ah shit, Blake. Are you all right?”
Jay nodded, hazily and slowly. He’d dug up a couple clumps of grass with his fingers.
“Are you certain?” Jack knelt. “I think you were right, it looks like there is a house up here, just ahead. We’ll get you inside.”
“How do you do it, Jack? How—“ he heaved again, producing nothing.
Jack steadied him, then grabbed Jay under the shoulder and pulled him to his feet. “What do you mean?” The horse, without anyone holding its reins, sneezed and lowered its head to the grass behind Jack.
Jay coughed a couple times, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Back there. You killed the corporal. Shot him. How can you do that?”
“You mean the German bloke who was trying to kill us? I hope you don’t think I enjoyed it. But he was shooting right back at me.”
“I know, I know.” He shook his head in resignation, “I just…” he didn’t know.
Jack patted him on the back, “You’re not a fighter, Mr. Blake. Most people aren’t.”
“They’re going to kill me, Jack.” His voice was desperate now, “I don’t even know what I’ve done and they’re going to kill me.”
Jack was pushing him gently back towards the horse, “No one’s going to kill you, Mr. Blake.”
“But you said yourself—“
“I know what I said. But trust me, no one is going to kill you. You will be all right. Now come on, let’s get to this house up here and get out of this damned rain.”
Jay accepted this without much thinking because it was easier. The two of them kept walking.
The building they were now approaching was decidedly larger than the Heinrich Glunz’s farmhouse where they’d found shelter the previous day. It was not humble; Jay doubted very much that its owners did any farming of their own. It was a manor house, and it was not the least bit inviting.
It did not sit at the top of the hill just at the edge of the trees, it loomed there. Its construction was dark and gothic and gave the impression that whoever had built had at first been constructing a fortress before deciding on a home when halfway done.
The stormy sky provided a dark green backdrop to the place which was positively eerie. A bolt of lightning struck somewhere in the distance behind the house, sending a flock of crows swarming and cawing over their heads.
Jack followed the birds with his head. When they were gone, he looked at Jay, “Now a part of me is saying we should turn back right now. The other part wants to march straight on in there after that kind of display.”
This elicited a genuine chuckle from Jay. He was too wet and tired to care about a handful of birds. Nor was he superstitious enough to care had he been dry and jolly either.
They walked right up to the front door, there didn’t seem to be a fence or gate of any kind. Jack seemed frustrated by the lack of a post to tie up the horse. Jay tried to squeeze himself under the little archivolt above the great wooden front doors. It didn’t do much to stop the rain.
There was a large brass knocker in the center of the doors, some kind of face twisted in a grotesque scream. Jay placed a hand on it. At first, it slipped through his slimy fingers. But he wound his fingers around it a second time, lifted, and dropped.
The whole house thundered.
Jack had given up on tying up the horse, and was now dragging a tied up and still unconscious Farragut towards the doors. He tried getting out of the rain too, and had about as much luck as Jay had.
“Do you think they’ll let us in or shoot us as bandits?” he joked.
Jay looked over his dirt-smeared self, “I suppose we don’t appear very presentable.”
“No help for it. I just hope they open up quickly.”
‘They’ took their time. Jay was starting to wonder if he was going to have to suggest that Jack break a window when an echoing sound of heavy latches being turned rang out from behind the doors.
The one on the right, to which the knocker was affixed, began to swing inward. Jay and Jack both crowded near the opening, though Jay had the better view as he was not worried with dragging a limp body.
Not that there was anything to see, at first. The door opened onto pure blackness. The door stopped once it was a quarter open, and they still couldn’t see anything beyond it.
A light did at last appear, a faint yellow glow which filled out the shape of an old lantern. Its panes were so foggy, however, that it did not appear to illuminate anything but itself. The result was that Jay at first had a horrifying impression of a lantern being held aloft by a bloodless severed human hand. Jay stepped back instinctively when this apparition bobbed and moved towards him.
It was not a severed hand. Its owner, a man, appeared behind it, but he was not a pleasant sight himself. Some corner of Jay’s mind wondered if he was looking at a ghost before he discarded the notion. The man was merely very pale. His skin was nearly as white as the powdered wig he seemed to be wearing, though it had a faint sickly hue. The only color about him at all was two blotches of red beneath his bloodshot eyes.
Those eyes scanned over Jay, Jack, and Farragut slowly before returning to meet Jay’s stare directly.
“Yes?” His voice was deep and smooth, but seemed to have a faint echo which Jay put down to the cavernous space behind him.
“Ah, e—excuse use,” Jay stuttered, a little disconcerted by the man’s gaze. “But we need… we need… you’re speaking English?”
“I think you will find that ‘yes’ is a common enough word for the Germans even though it is not native to these lands,” he responded simply. “But you need something?”
“Uh, yes. This man,” he gestured to Farragut, “needs medical attention. We were hoping you might help…”
The pale man took another look at Farragut. Then, without a word, he thrust the lantern into Jay’s hands and strode forward, not seeming to mind getting the tails of his flowing purple robe wet. Jay juggled the lantern, but managed not to drop it. The man who’d given it to him bent over Farragut and pulled open his eyes with slender chalky fingers.
“Do you know of a nearby doctor?” Jack asked.
“This man doesn’t need a doctor. He needs a miracle, bring him inside.”
And he walked—fairly glided—back into the cavernous black of his house, not even retrieving the lantern from Jay.
Jack and Jay looked at each other, Jack shrugged. Jay held out the lantern and its meager light before him and followed their unusual host while Jack dragged the slumped major in behind, three pairs of feet left six streaks of mud in their wake.
Book One, Chapter:
-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-
-22-23-24-25-26-27-28-29-30-31-32-33-34-35-36-37-38-39-40-41-42-
-43-44-45-46-47-48-49-50-51-52-53-54-55-56-57-58-59-60-61-62-
Appendix: -A-B-C-