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Part 9. It was as they returned to their horses that he spied the figure. Despite the moon it was difficult to be sure of what it was, an animal, a child, or a person? All seemed possible. It was scurrying away from them. Not towards the house. Every now and then it stopped, as if it expected to be followed. "What is it sir?" queried Jackson. "Dammed if I know," replied Edward monitoring the figures progress. "Do we follow it?" asked Jackson. Once more the figure halted, waiting for them. "I think it expects us too," replied Edward mounting his horse. He pulled the reins in; a piece of cloth touched his hand. He lifted it up. Black lace! He looked at the disappearing figure. "Quickly," he chided Jackson, as he galloped off in pursuit. Now the figure was sure it had attracted Edward's attention it moved faster. Branches seemed to lash out at him as if nature herself wanted to prevent his pursuit. He was unaware of the direction he was travelling, his only criteria was to catch his prey! A ruined castle appeared before him, he had forgotten it existed. It had become a part of his childhood memories. They had all played here together, rescuing damsels in distress, fighting imaginary dragons. The figure moved into the remains of the great hall. Edward dismounted his horse and tied it to a post. In his haste he had given no thought to the tools he would require for the task ahead. Jackson had yet to appear. Edward paused and looked about. Another post lay nearby, it was too long and its end crudely pointed, it looked too wieldy for his needs, he picked it up anyway. His entry disturbed a family of bats that flew around the hall before settling. "I feared that you would not follow me," a lyrical voice greeted him. "I would have thought that your gift would have foreseen my presence here," Edward replied mockingly. "I foresee the future but actual timing is beyond my scope. I knew you would come but I could not be sure when," she informed him. "And you are not afraid?" he queried. "I have existed too long to be afraid of the inevitable," she stepped forward into the moonlight, "Are you still afraid of me?" "Should I be?" he asked. "Probably. We do not die easily," she mocked him. Whilst the attack Edward had planned was unsophisticated, hers was so subtle that Edward was unaware it was happening. She assaulted his senses; the tone of her voice seduced him, her cloying, sweet perfume intoxicated him and his eyes feasted on her mysterious beauty. Inside him there arose a primitive urge to process her that overpowered his brain's ability for logical, rational thoughts. As she reached out to embrace him, for the briefest of a second, his eyes closed in anticipation, as they blinked open he saw her, serpent-like, poised to strike. With Herculean force he instinctively plunged the crude, wooden post into her heart. Soundlessly she slumped forwards into his arms then, like a beautiful, preserved, pinned butterfly that he had once removed from its protective glass case, she crumbled to dust in his hands. Instantly feelings of loss descended on him. |