The Count of the Living Death (The Chronicles of Hildigrim Blackbeard)

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The Count of the Living Death (The Chronicles of Hildigrim Blackbeard) Page 22

by Joshua Grasso


  “You will be most welcome,” he agreed, while secretly hoping it would be many years from the present.

  “I hope I will be welcome, too,” Ivan said, standing up. “For brothers we shall always be, whatever the stars have to say on the subject.”

  “Ivan, you will be welcome most of all,” he said, embracing him. “Take care of yourself. Write me; write us both. We will be happy to hear your adventures.”

  “With all my heart,” he agreed. “Please tell Mary that I…that I wish her all possible happiness. I hope she can learn to forgive what I’ve done. If there’s anything I can do—”

  “Ivan, please, it’s not worth mentioning…”

  Many words in a similar vein were shared on both sides until Blackbeard, realizing that neither would give way, took Ivan’s arm and hauled him out of the apartment. A final good-bye for both and they vanished, leaving Leopold with a slight ache in his heart. Would he ever see them again? And how different might they all be in a few years, once time flowed between them and effaced the past?

  “Finally!” a voice said, as arms grabbed him from behind.

  “Mary?”

  “Zounds! Your aunt is remarkably impressed with herself,” she laughed, spinning him around. “Wanted to know about my education, my reading habits, my thoughts on women’s emancipation (I’d scarcely even heard of the word)! And all the time, I could only think about you, about tonight and the following day and all the days and nights to come…” she trailed off, pulling him close.

  “Ah, you just missed Blackbeard and Ivan. They said they had urgent business.”

  “Oh? Well, I wish them well, wherever they’re going. However, I have no further business with them…only with you. Can we take a walk? A very long and private walk where no one can find us?”

  “With all my heart,” he agreed—and sneezed. One sneezed followed by an even more dramatic second and third. He held his nose in alarm, then laughed.

  “A sneeze! I haven’t done that in…I don’t know how long!”

  “Naturally, catching a cold when I have most need of you. Say, if you get a cold, does that mean I will, too? Since we share the same…life and death?”

  “I have no idea,” he said, with a slight laugh. “Should I run after Blackbeard and ask him?”

  “Don’t trouble him. We’ll conduct our own experiments,” she said, entwining her arm in his. “Now quickly, I mean to abduct you. You’re mine, solely mine, and even she can’t have you. Oh—there’s her voice now! Let’s go!”

  Without another word they stole off, leaving Lucas to drain his final glass in private. Emotions and sensations from the past few days ran over him, making him feel a thousand times the man he was. He had been a hero? Had his actions, however modest, juggled the dice of Fate? Yes, he believed they had. His fateful carriage ride would be remembered in ballads and broadsheets, and if someone had an exceptionally poetic mind, even on the Royal Stage. He lost himself in these and even more fantastic daydreams until Leopold’s aunt, having sized him up as a wastrel, grabbed his ear and made him account for himself. Finding himself gloriously tongue-tied, she set him to work cleaning dishes, catching rats, and other menial tasks unbefitting the protagonist of our wondrous tale. For so he persisted in believing himself to the end of his days, telling the story—in his slightly skewed, embellished manner—to his children and grand-children, until they, too, could recite it verbatim. A pity no one bothered to record it.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Joshua Grasso is a professor of English at East Central University in Ada, Oklahoma. He received his Ph.D. from Miami University, specializing in British Literature from the long eighteenth century. As both a writer and teacher, he uses the past—whether its literature, art, music, or simply ideas—to help us see ourselves through the ‘mirror’ of time. Even with the passing of centuries, our reflection is remarkably consistent—if sometimes troubling. The Count of the Living Death is his first novel.

  Contact the Author Online

  Email: Joshua Grasso

  Connect with the Author on Facebook

  https://www.facebook.com/joshua.grasso

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

 

 

 


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