P N Elrod - Barrett 3 - Death Masque

by Death Masque(Lit)

  Calming an animal was the work of a moment, then I dropped to one knee and felt for the vein in its leg. Conditions weren't exactly clean here, but that could be remedied with a little water. My God, we were surrounded by the stuff. All that was needed was to pay one of the sailors to try his hand at grooming.

  Such were my thoughts as my corner teeth lengthened enough to cut through the flesh and reach the red fountain beneath. I hadn't fed from cattle for some time, preferring horses. Shorter hair, you know. The taste of the blood was nearly the same, though my senses were keen to the point that 1 could tell the difference between the two as easily as a normal man knows ale from beer.

  I managed to choke down a few swallows and they stayed down, but only under protest. It was the same as it would be for any other person with the seasickness; food might be necessary, but not especially welcome.

  I pinched the vein above the broken skin until the bleeding stopped, then rinsed my stained fingers in the dregs at the bottom of a slimy water bucket hanging in a corner. Well, something would have to be done about that. I'd paid plenty of good money for their care, which included keeping them adequately supplied with water. From the condition of the straw on the deck one could tell that they'd long since passed whatever had been in the bucket.

  A quick search for more water was futile. Perhaps it was kept under lock and key like the crew's daily tot of rum. A note to Jericho or Elizabeth would sort things out.

  I was about to quit the place and hazard the maze back to my cabin when I heard the achingly familiar snort of a horse. None of the other passengers had mentioned bringing stock aboard, though they'd all commented on my endeavor. Reactions varied from humor to curiosity at the eccentricity. Strange that no one had... whose horse was it?

  Opening the partition between this stable and the next solved the little mystery. Inside, snug in his own stall, was Roily. His ears were pricked toward me, his nostrils quivering to catch my scent.

  Now was I flooded with understanding on why Father had said nothing about what was to be done about this, ray special pet. He must have put himself to some trouble to arrange this last-minute surprise. God bless him and his accomplices. Elizabeth and Jericho had not given away the least clue.

  I went in and lavished a warm greeting upon Roily, rubbing between his ears and all down his neck; that was when [discovered a scroll of paper tied to his mane with a ribbon. A note?

  A note. I cracked open the drop of sealing wax holding the ribbon to the paper and unrolled the brief missive.

  My dear Jonathan,

  I hope you will forgive me for this liberty with your property, but I deemed the risk to be worth the taking. I know how much Roily means to you, and it would be a cruel thing to bear for you to have to give him up because of my plan to leave. Bereft as we are now of the influence you have over the commissary, it is not likely that so fine an animal could long escape their future notice.

  He has sufficient food to keep him for the duration of even a lengthy voyage. Remember that throughout that time he will miss his usual exercise, so take care to bring him back to it gently once you 're in England.

  In prayer for a safe journey with God's blessings for all of you,

  Your Loving Father.

  The writing swam before my eyes. For the first time since awakening, a warmth stole over me. God bless you, too, sir, 1 thought, wiping my wet cheeks with my sleeve.

  I spent an hour or more with Roily, checking him over, petting and talking to him, letting him know why he was where he was. Whether he understood or not was of no importance, he was a good listener, and sharing his company was a much better distraction than conversation with Mr. Quinton. I discovered Roily's tack and other things stowed in a box and filled the time by brushing him down and combing his mane and tail out until they were as smooth and shining as the rest of his coat. A groom's chore, yes, but for me it was pleasure, not work.

  Having seen to his comfort and taken some for myself, I was ready to return topside and see how the night was faring. With occupation came forgetfulness and I had to keep track of the time, being determined to forevermore avoid further panicked diving into cellars to escape the dawn.

  I had naught to fear; upon emerging, one glance at the sky told me that the greater part of the night still remained. It had to be but a glance; the sight of the masts swaying drunkenly against the background of the more stationary stars brought back the dizziness in full force. Shutting my eyes made things worse. Would to God this misery would pass away. I made a meandering path to the rail and held on for dear life, gulping air and cursing my weakness.

  There was soon something else to curse when a wayward gust of wind splashed half a bucket of sea spray in my face. Ugh. I swatted at it, clearing my eyes and sputtering. It was colder than iron.

  "Wind's freshening," said one of the ship's officers, by way of a comment on my condition as he strolled past. "Best to find some cover or you'll be drenched right through, sir."

  Thanking him, I made a last look around, which convinced me that no further distractions were to be found this night-unless I wanted more chill water slapped in my face. Better to be seasick and dry than seasick and wet. I went below.

  Jericho had left the cabin's small lamp burning for my return. He was deeply asleep in his cot jammed against the opposite wall. I was glad that he was getting some rest and took care to be quiet while slipping off my damp clothes. Not quite knowing what to do with them, I left them piled on the traveling box, then gratefully climbed into my own bed.

  The presence of my home earth delivered an instant comfort so overwhelming that I wondered whatever had possessed me to leave it in the first place. Until this moment I hadn't realized how much I needed it, and lying back, I finally identified the feeling that had been creeping up on me for the last few hours, one that I'd not had since before my death: I was sleepy.

  I'd known what it was to be tired, known all its forms, from the fatigue of a dark and discouraged spirit, to the weary satisfaction that stems from accomplishing a difficult task. Much had happened in the last year, but not once had my eyes dragged shut of their own accord as they were doing now.

  Damned strange, that.

  But so wonderfully pleasant.

  To escape into sleep... I'd thought that luxury forever lost because of the changes I'd been through.

  Out of old habit rather than necessity, I made a deep inhalation and sighed it out again, pulling the blankets up to my chin. Oh, but this felt good; my dizziness and bad belly were finally loosening their grip on my beleaguered frame. The earth-filled bags I rested on were lumpy and hard, but at the same time still made the most comfortable bed I'd ever known. I rolled on my side, punched the pillow once to get it just right...

  And then someone was tugging at my shoulder and calling my name most urgently.

  Damnation, I thought, then said it aloud. "What is it?"

  "Don't you want to get up, Mr. Jonathan?" Jericho asked.

  "I just got to bed. Let me finish what I've started."

  "But it's long past sunset," he insisted.

  Ridiculous. But he was probably right or he wouldn't be bothering me. I pried my eyes open. The cabin looked the same as before, or nearly so. If his cot had not been made up and my clothes neatly laid out on the box, I would have had good cause for continued annoyance.

  "Miss Elizabeth's been by to ask after you. She thought you might still be ailing from the seasickness."

  "It's not as bad as before."

  "Do you wish me to convey that news to her?"

  God, but I wanted to stay in bed. "No, I'll talk to her, perhaps take the air."

  He seemed about to ask another question, for he was plainly worried, but I got up and requested my coat. That was all that was required to change the subject. In the next few minutes I was summarily stripped, dressed again, combed out, brushed off, and otherwise made ready for presentation to any polite company, though how he was able to accomplish so much in the tiny space we had w
as a mystery to me.

  My hat in place, my stick in hand, I was bowed out into the passage.

  "You're trying to get rid of me so you can tidy things, is that it?" I demanded.

  His smile was one of perfect innocence. It was also his only reply as he shut the door.

  There being little point in additional contest with him, I made my way topside. Long habit dictated I check the sky, which was clear, but I was surprised at the lateness of the hour. How could I have overslept for so long?

  "I thought you'd never show yourself," Elizabeth called from a place she'd taken on the port rail. There was a good color in her cheeks and her mood seemed very light. Perhaps it had to do with the three young ship's officers who were standing about her. Apparently she was not in want of company or amusement.

  "Must be the sea air," I said, coming over.

  "You're feeling better?"

  That subject again. "I wish you hadn't reminded me." I clutched the rail hastily, nearly losing my stick. Should have left it in the cabin as I'd done last night. Though an elegant affectation for walking in the city or country, it was quite the impediment on a shifting deck.

  "Still seasick?"

  "Oh, please don't say it. I'd forgotten until now."

  "Sorry. You looked well enough a moment ago."

  "It's rapidly reasserting itself, unfortunately."

  One of the officers, anxious to make a good impression on Elizabeth, suggested that I consult Mr. Quinton. "He brought several cases of medicines with him. I'm sure he'd be only too happy to provide something to ease your difficulty," said the fellow with some eagerness.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant George. I shall give that some consideration."About two second's worth, I thought.

  "I can have him fetched for you," he offered helpfully.

  "Not necessary, sir. I've no wish to disturb him just yet."

  "But he's not at all occupied-"

  "That's quite all right, sir," I said firmly, hoping he would accept the hint. Happily, Elizabeth smiled at him and told him not to worry so. He bowed and declared himself to be her most faithful servant, which inspired the other two to gainsay him by assuring her that they were better qualified to such a post by reason of their superior rank. One of them informed Elizabeth about the dates of their respective commissions in order to prove his case for being the senior officer. After that, I lost the thread of the discussion until she touched my arm, giving me a start.

  "Are you bored?"

  "Not at all. Where'd your suitors go?" I was mildly confused to note that they had quite vanished.

  "Back to their duties. The captain caught their eye, raised his chin, and they suddenly remembered things they had to see to. It was very funny, didn't you notice?"

  I shrugged, indifferent to her obvious concern.

  She put a hand to my forehead. "A bit warm. Is the chill yet with you?"

  "Not really, just the misery in my stomach and a spinning head. I was all right when I woke up, but it's returned. Maybe that's why I slept an hour later than usual."

  "You look as though you could use even more rest."

  "No need for concern, I shall seek it out," I promised, working to rouse myself, lest she continue on the matter. The topic of my well-being had worn rather thin with me. "I found Father's surprise," I said and explained how I'd come across Roily.

  She brightened. "Oh, I wished I'd been there to see. I'd promised to let him know everything."

  "You can tell him that I was extremely happy. I plan to as well if I can bring myself to write in a steady hand on this vessel. I thought that a large ship like this would make for a smoother passage. The sea's not that rough."

  "It's better than when we first set out. The other passengers are coming 'round from its effect. I hope you're next, little brother." "As do I. Was I much missed from the table today?"

  "Since you were never there to start with you could hardly be missed, though the captain and Mr. Quinton both asked after you. Even when you do recover, you won't want to look too healthy or people will wonder why you're not eating with them."

  "Excellent point. I suppose I could be busy with some occupation or other. Tell them I'm involved with my law studies and will take meals in my cabin. Jericho can find some way of disposing of... the extra food."

  "Jonathan?"

  I shook my head. "Can't seem to wake up tonight. I don't remember the last time when I've felt so sleepy."

  "Then pay mind to it and go to bed if it's rest you want."

  "But so early? I mean, for me that's just not natural anymore."

  "Perhaps the constant presence of being over water is especially tiring for you. You said as much last night before I left you in Mr. Quinton's company."

  "I suppose I could lie down for a while. Jericho should be done by now."

  "Done with what?"

  "Oh-ah-doing whatever it is he does when I'm out of the room. The workings of one's valet are a mystery, and every good gentleman understands that they should remain so."

  "It seems a one-sided thing."

  "Such are the ways of the world when it comes to masters and servants. Believe me when I say that I'm very comfortable in my ignorance."

  She fixed me with a most solemn look. "Get some sleep, Jonathan."

  I gave a little bow mocking the recent efforts of the absent officers. "Your servant, Miss Barrett."

  "Lots of sleep," she added, brows high.

  That was enough to carry me back to the cabin. It was empty of Jericho's presence, but not of his influence. My recently discarded clothes were gone and the bed was tidy again. What a shame to have to destroy such order.

  Before collapsing, I rooted in the traveling box for something to read, but only for a moment. My eyes were already closing. Giving up the struggle, I dropped into bed.

  At some point I became aware of another's presence, but it was a dim and easily ignored incident.

  Jericho, probably. Shaking my shoulder again.

  I muttered an inarguable order to let me sleep and burrowed more deeply into the pillow.

  The next disturbance was more annoying. Elizabeth was calling to me. Being absolutely insistent.

  Couldn't seem to respond. Not even to her. It hardly mattered.

  Now she was all but bellowing right in my ear. My head jerked and I snarled something or other. It must have been forceful enough to put her off further attempts, for no more were made. I was finally left alone, left to enjoy my sweet, restorative oblivion.

  The seasickness was quite gone when I next woke. The combination of my home earth, the extra rest, and last night's fresh blood must have done it. Of course, it might not be a permanent thing, for had it not returned when I'd abandoned my bed for a turn around the deck?

  I made a kind of grumbling sigh and stretched. God, but I was stiff. And slow. I'd not been this sluggish since that time I'd been forced to hide from the day buried under a snowbank. At least I wasn't cold now, just moving as though half frozen. I was... numb.

  My hands. Yes, they were flexing as I wished, but I had no sense of them belonging to me. I made fists and opened them, rubbed them against the blankets. There, that was better, I could almost feel that. Must have slept wrong, had them under me or...

  Arms were numb, too.

  Legs... face...

  But wearing off. Just had to wake up a bit more. No need for alarm.

  "Jonathan?" Elizabeth's voice. Thin. Odd mixing of distress and hope.

  The room was dark-or my eyes weren't working properly. Rubbed them. Hard to work my fingers.

  She said my name again. Closer this time. More pressing.

  Had some trouble clearing my throat. Coughed a few times before I could mumble anything like an answer. Blinked my eyes a lot, trying to see better. The room was foggy as well as dark.

  Her face hovered over mine. "Do you hear me?"

  "Mm."

  "Do you know me?"

  What was she on about? "Mm-mu... niz... beh."

  "Oh, God
!" She dropped her head on my chest and began loudly sobbing.

  What in heaven's name was going on? Was the ship sinking? Why was she acting like this? I touched her with one hand. She rose up and seized it, holding it against her wet cheek.

  "Miss Elizabeth, please have a care for him." Jericho this time.

  But she kept weeping.

  "Please, miss, you're not helping him this way."