The Black Swan |
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"Have you heard about the young lord?" asked a querulous voice. The old cook squinted through the kitchen smoke at the voice's owner. "What, Lord Brock? What's the lad gone and done now?" The owner, a thin and sallow serving girl, snorted. "I said the young lord, you old fool. His Lordship Brock is as hale of mind and body as ever, bless the man. A pity that his mind-health didn't pass on to his son." The serving girl sidled up to the cook, and continued in a whisper. "Rumour is, the young lord's gone slightly daft. Seems he's taken to talking to birds; I've seen him, too, with me own two eyes. Imagine what it must be like for his poor mother - " The serving girl fell silent as the doors burst open and Young Lord Nathan stepped into the kitchen. His eyes were ablaze with an unhealthy light, and his face was set in a grim expression. "James! Come here! I need you to run an errand." He stamped out of the kitchen, still shouting. "James, I order you. Come here now!"
The cook and the serving girl stared at each other. The cook was the first one to break the silence, with a harsh laugh.
James cowered in the doorway of the courtyard. From where he stood, he could see Young Lord Nathan pacing back and forth impatiently. The young lord occasionally stopped to shake his fist at the lake, scream at the birds, and suddenly resume his silent pacing. James shivered, uttered a quick prayer under his breath, and slowly stepped through the doorway. "Sir?" he whispered uncertainly. "I was told you were in need of me?" Nathan stopped pacing. "Yes, well. I suppose you heard right. I need you to -" He paused, and looked around furtively. He grabbed James by the elbow. "Not here," he muttered. "The bird might hear." James looked around in confusion. "Bird, sir?" He caught sight of a black swan, gliding about on the lake's surface. With a splash of water, it darted into the reeds on the far side of the lake. "Oh, you mean - " "It tried to kill me, you know." Nathan stared moodily at the lake. "The other day, when I was in its nest. It tried to peck me to death." "I've heard those creatures can be quite difficult," James ventured, "especially if their nests and eggs are disturbed . . . " "Well, what was I supposed to do?" demanded Nathan. "Let its eggs and hatchlings live? I tell you James, the thing is like some sort of illness! A black cancer! And it'll keep spreading . . . spreading . . . trying to kill me!" Nathan grabbed James and shook him roughly. James squirmed out of his grasp, by now thoroughly convinced that the young lord was quite mad. "Sir . . . " he began. Nathan blinked. "Still here? Didn't you hear what I said, James? Two lengths of silken cord, a clove of garlic and thirteen tea leaves! There's more to be got, but . . . " He bit his lip. "I can't tell you. Not here. Not where it can listen in." He took James by the arm again; but this time, it was not a forceful grip of mastery. Rather, Nathan leaned towards James as if seeking support, or comfort. "We'll need some clean water. And a Bible, to make it holy . . . if we can find one by the next full moon . . . " Nathan's voice echoed eerily as he and James went through the cold, grey arches of the doorway. From the equally cold and dismal clouds hovering overhead, a quiet rain began to fall. |
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Page design, layout, and contents by Clockwork Penguin Productions. Backgrounds and flower
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