“We can make shelter in its eaves,” said Roel, spurring his mount to a trot, Celeste doing likewise. But a deluge came pouring down ere they reached the woodland, yet at last, and with the horses thoroughly drenched and chilled, they rode in among the trees.
“I deem we can-”
“Roel, wait. I think I see a dwelling, or rather the wall of one.”
On they rode, deeper into the forest, where they found a high stone wall running to left and right, and along this barrier they turned rightward.
And the rain thundered down.
They came to a gate ripped from its hinges and lying across the way, beyond which lay a courtyard covered with litter and leaves, and beyond that sat what was once a stately manor, for it had the look of long abandonment: vines grew wildly, and shutters hung awry; windows were broken, and the front door stood ajar.
“Hello!” cried Roel above the hammer of rain.
There was no answer.
“Hello!” he cried again, louder.
Still there was no answer.
He turned to Celeste. “I deem this place be a derelict.
’Round side or back should be a stable; let us get the horses into shelter.”
Through driving rain, past weed-laden gardens and overgrown flower beds they splashed, and beyond a broken fountain and a staved-in gazebo. Behind and off to one side of the manor sat a neglected stable, and casting back their hoods the better to see, they dismounted and led the horses in, Roel with his sword in hand, Celeste bearing her long-knife.
Rain pelted down onto the roof, filling the shelter with its drumming.
But for shadows, the place was deserted.
As vapor rose from the animals, Celeste sheathed her long-knife and said, “Roel, until we see what’s afoot, let us leave the horses be, in case we need take quick flight.”
“Oui. My thoughts exactly,” he replied, slipping Coeur d’Acier into its scabbard.
They loosely tied their mounts to a hitching post, while leaving the packhorses tethered to the saddles.
Roel took up his crossbow and cocked and loaded it, and Celeste strapped on a quiver and readied her bow and nocked an arrow to string.
Roel glanced at Celeste and received a nod, and out into the storm they went.
Angling across the overgrown yard behind the house, they strode to a service entrance. The door flapped back and forth in the swirling wind. Into the manor they stepped, and a hallway stretched out before them, its dust-laden floor unmarked by track other than those of mice. Doors and archways stood to left and right, and no sound other than that of the rain disturbed the silence.
Along this way they quietly walked, past storerooms and a kitchen, its hearths unfired, gray ashes lying within. The chamber across the hall held a large pantry, its shelves yet laden with goods, these dusty as well. Past a laundry room they went, its ironing boards standing unmanned, its tubs empty, and nought but a few tattered jerkins hanging from the strung lines. More doors they passed, and all chambers lay untended; all were unoccupied. They came to a door, and beyond they found a welcoming hall, its marble floor covered with trackless dust and leaf litter. Sweeping staircases led upward to the floor above. ’Round the welcoming hall itself, doorways led to a music room, a parlor, a chamber with a desk and bookshelves, a dining room, a ballroom, and other such places where people gathered.
But all was in disarray, chairs o’erturned, tables smashed, leaves stirring in the wafts from the storm, and all the windows seemed broken inward as if by a great force from without.
“What shambles,” said Celeste, looking about and sighing.
“Oui,” said Roel.
Up the stairs they went, where they found bedrooms awry, some large, others modest, and some small. For here were the household and guest quarters, and dust lay thickly, and again the windows were smashed inward, even in the bathing rooms and privies.
“Something dreadful happened here,” said Celeste, and Roel only nodded.
Back downstairs they went, and they came across an entry into the cellars, wherein they discovered dust shy; covered kegs of ale and casks of brandy and bottles of wine. But in one corner they also found an upturned open cask and dried human feces within, as if it had been used as a chamber pot.
“Perhaps some group took shelter in this cellar to escape the disaster above,” said Roel, surveying the scene.
“It looks as if they lived here for a while in isolation. Yet there are no bones of any occupants, so they must have eventually fled.”
Celeste looked about as well. “Roel, there are no windows to the outside, and so whatever befell this manor, this is the only protected place.”
Roel nodded. “Love, although there are beds above, beds we could make habitable, I say we spend the night in the stables.”
“I agree,” said Celeste. “Let us go from this damaged place now.”
They unladed and unsaddled the horses, and they brushed the animals thoroughly to take away as much moisture as they could, and then took a currycomb to them. Then, as the steeds munched on their rations of grain, Celeste and Roel dried themselves, for in spite of the cloaks and hoods, their heads and necks and hands and forearms were quite drenched.
Roel built a fire, and together they made a hot meal of tea and gruel honey-sweetened, along with hardtack and jerky.
And the rain yet drummed on the roof as they made ready to sleep. Celeste insisted on taking first watch, and Roel nodded and lay down, the knight yet ruing the fact that he hadn’t thought to bring along a nervous but plucky dog.
Some candlemarks later Celeste wakened Roel and whispered, “Listen.”
Above the now-gentle patter of rain there came the strains of music.
It was the quadrille.
Too, there was soft laughter.
“Come, let us see,” said Roel, taking up Coeur d’Acier and his shield. Celeste grabbed up a hooded lantern and lit it, then took her long-knife in hand.
With the lantern all but shuttered, together they crossed the yard and entered the service door. The house was dark, but the music yet played and the voices sounded as down the hallway they went.
Through the door at the end of the hall they crept, and the sounds-harpsichord, flute, violin, along with gentle chatter and the rustle of gowns and the measured steps of dancers-came from the direction of the ballroom, whence an aetheric glow emanated.
Moving quietly through the litter, Roel and Celeste eased across the marble floor and to the archway. But the moment they peered within, the light and sounds vanished. Celeste threw the lantern hood wide, and the luminance filled the chamber, but no one whatsoever did they see. The room was yet litter filled, and the dust and leaves stirred not. No tracks could be seen, and when Celeste walked to the harpsichord and looked at the keys, they had not been disturbed.
Roel frowned. “Ghosts? Spirits?”
Celeste took a deep breath and shook her head. “I know not. But whatever it is let us leave it in peace.” Back to the stables they trod, and even as they left the house, again music and gentle voices came from within.
“I’ll take the watch,” said Roel, and he stirred up the fire and brewed tea, while Celeste fell into slumber.
Again some candlemarks passed, and this time Celeste was awakened by Roel. “Hsst!” he cautioned.
“Something large comes.”
Above the sound of music and voices, the ground thudded with heavy tread, more felt than heard, and Celeste quickly strung her bow and nocked an arrow.