When morning came, I went into her room to wake her, but, as I stood over her, I hesitated and seized the opportunity to watch her in silence. I went down on one knee and watched her breathe, she was so beautiful and I loved her so much. I glanced at the pillow on the other side of the bed and closed my eyes, picturing myself lying there holding her in my arms as she slept.
Oh, would that door ever be open to me? Would I ever be granted that privilege? I opened my eyes and gazed at her hand lying limp over the pillow, her left hand with my gold band on her finger. Would she ever be mine to keep?
Taking a much needed deep breath, I got to my feet, and ran my fingers across her cheek. “Christine—Christine, it’s six a.m.—Christine.”
She moaned, stirred, stretched, and I ached. “Time to get up, my sleepy angel.”
Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again. “Thank you.”
Then I made my exit before I lost control and was forced to take another cold bath. I had some tea and toast ready when she came into the kitchen, and we ate quickly before I took her across the lake. We were standing at the foot of the stairs, and I was stalling, since I didn’t want her to go alone.
“I hope her illness is nothing serious. Also, remember I have a good working knowledge of natural oil remedies, and I know someone else who has a better one, so, if you think she might benefit from them, let me know. Be careful on the stairs. Sometimes they can be slippery. And if you see Carlotta, hold your head up. Remember, you’ll shine twice as brightly. And don’t let Meg dominate the conversation. Tell her what you’re ready to tell her and nothing more. Also . . .”
“I know, Erik, I know,” she interrupted with a smile. Then she laid her hand on my chest. “Thank you for your concern.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go up with you?”
“I’m sure. Today I have a good excuse for not talking to anyone, so I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re the one who said we can’t be seen together.”
I nodded and took her hand from my chest, kissing her fingers and the ring. Shortly, she was gone, and I felt truly uneasy. I waited until I couldn’t hear her footfalls, and then I knew I couldn’t let her go alone. So I quickly started following her, while listening carefully for any sound that might signal her distress.
I hadn’t gone far when I heard steps coming down toward me. At first I smiled, thinking Christine was coming back, but then I realized they were too heavy for her steps, they were a man’s steps. So I charged back down until I was at lake level and behind a column. I looked at the lit lantern in my boat, but I knew I didn’t have enough time to extinguish it, so I remained hidden until I heard him leave the stairs.
My next thought was that it was Oded again, but I didn’t recognize the strides as belonging to my friend either. When he was beyond the column I was hiding behind, I peeked around it and saw a man approaching the wharf—Raoul!
I moved back out of sight and pressed my head against the column, closing my eyes tightly. My thoughts went to Christine’s words about not wanting to send anyone to their death by sending them to my home. I felt certain she wouldn’t have betrayed me that quickly, so the only explanation was that he was waiting for her to unwittingly betray my location. In either case, I was angered to the point that I was getting a headache, and the fact that I had to make a quick decision wasn’t helping either.
Do I remain quiet until he tires and leaves? Do I wait and give him a chance to try to find my lair—perhaps drowning in the process? Do I confront him once and for all and try to end his meddling?
He was on the wharf and looking down at my boat when I made my decision, so I moved from column to column until I was closer to him. Then I stepped out from behind the column and spoke to him.
“It can be dangerous to lose your way in a strange territory, my boy.”
He jumped, gasped, and turned with my cold threat, and I smiled—but only inside. My exterior posture was absolutely serious, and I began walking parallel to his position, slowly. I kept my eyes on him across my shoulder and continued my taunt.
“Straying a bit far from your comfortable and safe home, aren’t you, young de Chagny?”
When he finally gathered his wits, he asked, “You know my name?”
“Oh, yes,” I replied confidently. Then I turned and started in a casual and yet deliberate pace toward him, all without breaking eye contact. “I know many things about you. I know your name as well as where you live. I know what you do with your extra time. I know who your friends are—and who your enemies are. I know where you go for holiday, and I know why you came down here to this unlikely habitat for the wealthy.” By that time, he’d left the wharf and I was a meter away from him, glaring down into his eyes with my narrowed ones. “I know what it is you’re looking for down here, and I know it isn’t a bear.”
Again I was smiling inside as I watched his breathing increase, and I could smell his fear.
“It’s you! Erik, right? Your name is Erik. You’re the deceiver.”
“Deceiver?” I questioned, while taking a few backward steps with my hands spread out from my sides. “I deceive no one. I may be hard to find at times, but to anyone who really wants to know me, I am what I am, and I hide nothing. Now, if there are those who choose to believe outlandish stories instead of looking for the truth—well, what can I say? There will always be a measure of ignorant fools in the world.”
He squinted at me. “You talk in riddles and make no sense.”
I cocked my head. “As I said, there will always be a measure of ignorant fools in the world.”
He took a step toward me, studying me. “You’re old.”
I laughed aloud, and, as if our bodies were chess pieces making one move at a time, I took a step toward him.
“I prefer to say I’m wise, since wisdom comes with age and is lost on the young, which you’re proving by being down here where demons and ghosts are said to lurk.”
“You can’t hide your old age behind clever words.”
“You seem to have a problem with the French language, don’t you?” Without giving him a chance to respond, I continued. “Listen, my young de Chagny, age is relative. To Methuselah I’m young, very young, whereas to a newborn baby you’re old, very old. Everything is relative, including wisdom. I would never give up the wisdom I’ve gained with my age for the foolish meandering of a young man. Meandering that, in his lack of wisdom, has led him to a place he should not be.”
He took a step sideways, and I slipped my fingers through a coil when I heard the anger in his next words. “Leave her alone. You have nothing to offer her. You’re nothing more than a tired old man.”
“There you go again, using that relative label.” I started walking circles around him while he turned to keep facing me. Speaking slowly, deliberately, and low, I rebutted, “An old man, young de Chagny? Have you not heard that there are certain things that are better with age? Cheese—wines—experience—making love!
“I can offer her more than you could ever imagine. And what do you have to offer her besides a pretty face, youth, and money? You know—youth and money are both greatly overrated. I’ve had both, so I speak from experience. One day your youth will be gone and with it your pretty face.
“As for your wealth, well, it doesn’t take much, a fire, a war, or simply a disagreement with your aristocratic family, and everything you depend on could be gone. What then? What will you have left to give, my young de Chagny?” As I finished, I was right at his shoulder so I spoke softly in his ear. “What would you have to give her if something unexpected happened to your pretty face?”
He quickly moved away from me, glaring up at me. “You can’t frighten me away, not that easily. I have so much more to offer her than you’ll ever have. I can offer her my love and a respectable name. And you, you can offer her what?—A life of running from the police and living in darkness? Yes, I know all about your cold-blooded murders and how you’re continually pursued.”
Running my fingers ov
er the coil, I resisted my urge to silence his arrogance permanently. I kept my eyes on him as I continued to walk back and forth in front of him. My voice was still controlled and low as I tried to warn him.
“If you want to listen to drunken men and silly girls, then you’ll be underestimating the simplicity of the truth. But I strongly suggest that you never underestimate my ability to hold onto what is mine just because of my old age. This old man doesn’t take lightly to being tested.” Then I added with a sarcastic smile and tone, “Especially when it’s past my nap time and I’m tired and cranky.”
The foolish boy continued to taunt me with his haughty words and his overconfident body language. Then he dared to hold out one fist in front of him and waved it at me.
“If they’re wrong and what you say is true, then why is it that you live behind a mask and lurk in the shadows?”
With his remark about my mask, a measure of my restraint slipped from me, causing my body to stiffen and my jaws to clench. Then, when I took one quick and long stride toward him, a measure of his confidence left him and he retreated to stay out of my reach.
With a deep breath I growled at him, “I’ve been forced to wear this mask and to lurk in the shadows, as you call it, because of ignorant fools like you! Now, I’m warning you, leave me alone. Leave my shadows so I can return to my lurking. I tire of this trivial conversation with your ignorant arrogance. Leave now while you still can. I won’t warn you again.”
There was an uncomfortable period of silence while we glared at each other. Then he nodded, turned his back on me, almost as if he was heading for the stairs. But when he turned back toward me, he had a smile on his face and a pistol in his hand.
I looked quickly at his weapon, enough to know it wasn’t cocked, and then at his face, in a sickly and premature smile of conquest.
I shook my head at him and gave him a smile of my own. “Now, what do you expect to do with that, you fool?”
“Take you to the police and end your deception with Christine,” he responded with a smirk on his face that was pushing me closer to the edge of my tolerance.
I snickered. “Your confidence in your manhood and your ability to hold onto Christine is surely lacking if you feel the need to have me behind bars before you can do so.”
He started moving toward me with his voice raised in his half-grown victory. “Now, what was that you were warning me about? Warning me that you were going to kill . . .”
Before he could finish his sentence, the last of my patience was spent and my lasso sliced through the air and was around his neck. Then with one simple move, I was behind him, holding the lasso tight, but not tight enough to deprive him of air.
“Kill you, you ask?” I hissed.
I heard his pistol hit the ground as his hands clawed at his throat. My voice was low and cold, as I seethed my hatred for him directly into his ear.
“No! I’m not going to kill you, at least not right now. But can you see how easy it would be for me? You stupid fool, do you see how I hold your young life in my old hands? A few seconds longer, or tighter, and your life will be snuffed out, just as easily as I blow out one of my candles. But, I let you live this day, not because I care about your puny life, but because I care about Christine, and for some unknown reason she wouldn’t want your life to end.”
I loosened the noose just enough for him to breathe easier, while I again whispered in his ear, “Do you see now how easy it would be for me? I haven’t kept track of all the times I’ve had you in my sights, young man, and I haven’t the patience or the inclination to explain all of them to you.
“I can only suggest that you take my advice and not come down here again. I can’t guarantee the next trip will go as well as this one, with you still on your feet and breathing. So I advise you not to tempt me further. This old man may not always be as benevolent as he was that night in Perros or this day. If you value your life at all, don’t enter my domain again.”
I jerked on the coil for emphasis. “Are you smart enough to believe what I say?” Still holding his throat securely, I pulled him backwards a few meters toward the well and warned him again. “Or do I have to drag you to the same place I buried another man who thought he could capture me like a hunter’s trophy?”
At that threat, he held both of his palms out from his sides and whispered, “All right—All right.”
I let him go completely and shoved him away from me, kicking his pistol into the lake at the same time. He coughed a few times while rubbing his neck, and then he just stared at me. As silence fell over the lake, I coiled my lasso, just in case he was a bigger fool than I thought. We held our sights on each other, and I contemplated remaining quiet or speaking further to him. Then, once again, my concern for Christine moved in and became the stronger of my desires.
“My advanced age, which you’ve so thoughtfully reminded me of, has given me well-developed knowledge when it comes to human nature. So I advise you to use what I’m going to tell you with wisdom. Christine is an adult and a highly intelligent and compassionate woman who has a mind of her own. I respect her for that, and so should you.”
I motioned toward the stairs. “Did you see her when she left here? Did you talk to her? Did you see her face? Did she look as if I had her in chains? She is free to come and go from here just as often as she wishes. I hold no physical bonds on her. What holds her to me is something you would never understand, and I in no way intend to explain it to you.”
I shook my head. “To try to explain it to you would be akin to explaining to an ant the functions of the sun and moon. Just take my word for it. There’s something between us that you can’t possibly comprehend.”
I scowled at him. “I shouldn’t be giving you this advice, you arrogant fool. I should let you have all the rope you want until you strangle yourself with it. And if I were only thinking about our animosity toward each other, then I would keep quiet and watch you kill what affection she has for you. But what I say is about something larger than the two of us put together. It’s for Christine.”
He was still staring at me, and for the first time I glanced at the lake in a moment of thought before I looked back at him and continued. “Don’t press Christine too hard to make a decision between the two of us. It will only backfire on you, or you could do the woman I love irreversible harm.
“You can’t force the petals of a rose to open too quickly or the rose will be ruined and no one will be able to enjoy its beauty. Don’t push Christine, Raoul. Let her make her own decision, and then it will be obvious who the better man is in her eyes, not yours and not mine.”
I walked up close to him and looked directly and strongly into his eyes. “Don’t do anything further to hurt Christine. I don’t like it when she’s distressed. It angers me, and to see her shed tears . . . well, let me just say that it doesn’t put me in a very good mood.
“The sting you’re experiencing on your neck right now is the result of only a tip of my temper being released. You don’t want to be around or know what happens when I’m really angered.” I backed away from him and crossed my arms across my chest. “Now, leave here and never come back.”
As I waited for him to respond, he looked at the lake, he looked at me, he looked toward the stairs, he looked back at me, and then with a deep breath, he turned and headed for the stairs. I held my position until he was out of sight and for a few more minutes for safety.
I was in a terrible mood by the time I returned home. My encounter with that fool kept replaying in my mind and joined with memories of Christine’s argument with him. I was so angry with him and his arrogance that I could hardly think. However, I was somewhat pleased with my own actions. I might have allowed him to anger me, but he was still alive. That was a great accomplishment, considering how much I hated everything he represented.
I began playing my music to calm my nerves, but I soon realized I needed to get out of my home and do something to get my mind off Raoul. So I headed for César, but that thought was t
hwarted instantly. There were four grooms and two officers guarding him, making my head hurt even more.
I was so angry by the time I got home again that I nearly lost my temper completely. My furnishings were only rescued because I refused to let those men control me. They weren’t going to make me a prisoner in my own home, so I changed into my riding clothes, grabbed all my water canteens, all the cash I had on hand, and a hand full of jewels from my old chest and cloak. Then I moved fast but not hastily toward the passage leading to my outside door.
I didn’t like using that door during daylight hours, but I managed to leave without being seen. Soon I was in a brougham and heading for the livery, and shortly after that I was on a horse and leaving the city. When I could do so without attracting undue attention, I ran the sorrel I was riding and finally felt relief. I hadn’t had a good run with a horse in a long time, not since that last newspaper article about César’s disappearance.
When I knew I’d run him long enough, I dismounted and walked him out. I kept walking with him until we were both cooled down, and then I found a brook and a nice tree with tender new grass growing under it. After putting a lead around the sorrel’s neck, I removed his bridle so he could enjoy the grass without that piece of metal in his mouth. Then, while he grazed, I sat beside him and enjoyed his sounds and smell and the peaceful countryside.
I’d nearly forgotten how much I missed my hoofed friends and the great outdoors. Regardless of what Christine’s decision was, I knew then that I had to leave the opera house. I wanted horses back in my life, but then I remembered the reason I was living where I was, and I began to feel trapped again. Fortunately, I told myself, no, I won’t think about that right now. My time with the sorrel was too peaceful to complicate it with my torturous thoughts.
While I was sitting there, I smoothed out my plans for that special night with Christine, and I used the rest of the day to prepare for it. I eventually mounted again and headed for Obert and Roland to let them know I wouldn’t need them for a few days. Then I went back to the city where I shopped for that night.
Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine Page 53
