by Claire Cray
The berry pie nearly brought tears to my eyes at the end of the meal. I hadn’t been out of the city that long, but it had been a while since I’d had a fruit pie. “Thank you, sir. It was kind of you. I feel much refreshed.”
Merrick set the roots aside and slowly rose from the chair. He reached up to close the shutters and then sat across from me at the table. Pushing back his hood and veil, he fixed me with a solemn, disapproving look.
I looked humbly back at him, dreading whatever words might accompany that grim gaze. It was strange to see him with his robe on and his hood off. His usual old-wise-man guise was really most effective, and the dissonance between the druid’s robe and his young, handsome face was startling.
“You must never do that again.”
My heart stopped.
“Of course, I must take the blame,” he said with a weary sigh.
“I am deeply sorry, sir.” My throat felt dry as bone, and the words had no voice.
He shook his head again and held up a hand to silence me. “Nothing so poisonous should have been within your reach. I am too accustomed to being alone and did not think of rearranging things for caution’s sake when you arrived.”
…Oh.
“Nevertheless, you must never toy with concoctions you do not understand. You have much to learn before you start experimenting with medicinal herbs.”
I stammered a bit, relieved beyond belief that he was not, after all, chastising me for the night before. “Y-yes, sir. I…I understand that.”
His brow furrowed with concern. “Why, all the color has left your face. Does it wound you so to be scolded, William?”
“I…I thought you were talking about…”
Realization dawned on his face, followed by amusement. His lips curved into a smile, showing his straight, perfect teeth.
I couldn’t help trying to get a look at them, for in all the times I’d seen him without his robe I had never noticed any…
His smile grew. “Are you looking for my fangs?”
I nodded. It did appear on closer inspection that his canines were slightly pronounced; at least, they were somewhat pointier and longer than my own. “Can these teeth pierce a vein, sir?”
“They are sharper than they look.”
I believed it. “Does it taste all right?”
Merrick tilted his head, looking curiously at me. “Are you interested in such details, William?”
I blinked. “Well, yes.” Was that any surprise? “I’ve never met…”
“You are not a particularly fearful person, are you?”
That gave me pause for thought. “I don’t consider myself brave,” I said, “But I have always been rather curious.”
“Has that curiosity never led you to trouble?”
The question triggered me to smile for the first time in a good while. “Consistently. But nothing serious. It was when I turned my brain off that the real trouble happened.”
“Well,” he murmured. “I admire your curiosity. But you need not concern yourself with the details of my nature.”
I looked at him skeptically. Then I was to leave it at that, then? He was a vampire, end of story? “Why did you tell me, sir?”
“Because I knew you could be trusted.” He paused. “And although I would have preferred to reveal the truth more elegantly, I did not expect you to cripple and poison yourself within a month of arriving…” Merrick smiled wryly. “I could hardly refrain from intervening, merely to postpone revealing the truth. Now, why don’t you take your walk?”
Take my walk?
After all that had happened, I was to simply take my walk?
I could only reluctantly nod, and I felt Merrick’s eyes stayed on me as I rose and began to clear the table. “Leave it,” he said, surprising me.
Good God, for a man who had said he preferred not to challenge expectations! Could he not even have his bound servant do the things servants were meant to do?
Outside, the sunlight was welcome refreshment. I breathed deeply of the fresh air as I set out on the usual path, but for all the good it did my body it did nothing to soothe my mind.
All the questions that had been simmering in my mind had been brought to a rolling boil. Did Merrick want to drink my blood? Had he ever been married? Did he kill indiscriminately? Was he thinking about the night before? Would he kiss me again? Did the town people suspect him? Was he…
My thoughts trailed off when I saw a female figure walking down the road. Even from a distance, her movements were young and gay, her arm sweeping out now and again so she could brush her fingertips over the foliage at the road’s edge. She wore a simple blue gown and carried a basket, and as she came closer I saw her long blonde hair blowing gently in the breeze.
“Good morrow,” I said as she came nearer, bowing low and pivoting to keep her in my sights. Praise Fate. If anything could soothe me now, it would be the company of a girl and a nice, lazy flirt.
She slowed to a stop. “Good morrow,” she replied in a sweet voice. She was a simple looking girl, but pretty. Her skin looked as soft as a child’s and her cheeks were like little peaches. “Are you Doctor Merrick’s apprentice?”
“I am.” Good God, it was nice to speak with a woman. The sight and sound of her filled me with a warm and familiar affection. I did love them so, from the rebels like Molly Wrigs to the hardy working women of the city to my own sweet Mum. Bless them all. “William Lacy. How do you do?”
“Very well, thank you,” she said with a sweet smile. “I’m Sarah Brightwell. I live in Mayriver, up the way. Are you from the city?”
“I am.”
“It must be exciting.” Her blue eyes were alight with interest. “Where are you going?”
“I’m just out for a walk.”
“May I join you for a spell? I’m going to see Doctor Merrick, but I’m in no hurry.”
“Certainly,” I said with my most gallant smile, and began to walk with her beside me. It seemed Fate had decided to show me mercy in the form of a sweet country girl! I kept a polite distance from her, folding my hands behind my back.
“How did you come to this place?” Sarah asked.
I looked towards the leaves above us. “We-ll,” I said reluctantly. “I am a bound servant.”
“Sent by the court?” she asked, putting a few steps more between us, though it seemed it was to get a better look at me rather than to retreat. “What was your crime, sir?”
“Public drunkenness, and various results thereof.”
Sarah seemed surprised. “That’s a little old-fashioned, isn’t it?”
Nice girl. I wondered what she was going to see Merrick for. “Well, at least I’m here and not in jail.”
“How do you like it?”
I looked around. The surprise of it never wore off: I liked it very much. “It’s more pleasant than I would have expected.”
“And Doctor Merrick is very kind, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” I said. “Very kind…”
As the words left my lips, it happened. Right there, in the most unexpected moment.
The Wall cracked.
I thought of Merrick in his grim, mysterious hood, working quietly over his bowls and bottles, and his gentle voice asking me questions, giving me answers. I thought of the clothes and the food he gave me, and the leisure he afforded me, the walks and the quiet reading time. I thought of how he never spoke crossly or failed to greet me with a pleasant tone. And I remembered every time he’d tenderly touched me – to guide my hand as he showed me how to trim and chop and grind his herbs, to lay a comforting hand on my back when I was frustrated, to smooth my hair in those rare but significant moments when intimacy bloomed between us like a bright flame. I thought of his sudden, always-unexpected smiles, and how it always warmed me to think I had been the one to bring one to his face.
And I got that strange feeling in my chest, a tight, tingling…
I was in love with Merrick.
I was wholly taken with him.
Here I was, walking down the road with the prettiest girl I was likely to see for any number of months, and God help me! When Merrick’s name was on her lips I thought not of her lips but of Merrick. Of Merrick!
“My little brothers are afraid of him,” Sarah said with a pretty laugh. “Most boys are.”
I could only just keep up with the conversation. “Are they?”
“Well, he is a bit fearsome, isn’t he? With that hood? But he’s a kind and gentle man.”
Drowning in the floods of my epiphany, I wished she’d stop talking about him so I could get that damned Wall back up. I changed the subject. “Have you lived here all your life?”
“Yes! My family’s been here since 1702.”
“And what does your father do?”
“He’s a knife maker.”
That was worth any suitor’s notice, I thought wryly. As she got to talking, I focused determinedly on her sweet voice and the glow of the sun on her hair. Though I was still too distracted to try and charm her, she seemed thrilled enough by my company. It was clear she was the kind of girl who dreamed of life outside of the village, and I wondered if she’d find her way out one day. I hoped not. She was too soft and lovely for the city.
At last I felt my wits about me again. The Wall was repaired! I gradually steered her back to the cottage, knocking on the door to announce her.
Merrick answered, slightly hunched over, and beckoned her in with his rough old-man voice.
I stared at him from behind the girl, for the act amused me a little more each time. What lay under that robes was the very opposite of – Stop! I shook my head furiously as they turned away, resolving to spend the next five minutes without thinking of anything under that robe.
Sarah greeted him kindly, offering him the basket once he’d beckoned her inside.
“Please put on some tea for Miss Brightwell, William,” Merrick instructed, and sat with her at the table.
I listened to them as I put on the kettle. It wasn’t often I was in the room when Merrick spoke to his customers. Sarah had come to procure more of a remedy Merrick made for her headaches. She could have ordered it easily from Thomas the courier, but it was plain enough to see that she had wanted to get a look of the young apprentice from the city. She was an endearing little thing, and I was glad she’d come by.
“Good day, William,” Sarah said from the door as she was about to leave, fixing me with a sweet, sunny smile. “Good day, Doctor Merrick.”
When the door closed and Merrick turned to me, I realized I’d forgotten to bring back the bark he’d asked me to find. My eyes widened. “I beg pardon, sir. I did not fetch the bark you asked of me. I can return quickly…”
“No,” he said. “I’d like you to do your regular chores. There is a list of things to be prepared for tomorrow. Take care of the ones I have marked. I will check them before they go out. When you’re finished, I want you to read for a spell and prepare to summarize what you’ve learned.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.” I watched him disappear through the bedroom, headed for the cave. I had made it five minutes, and I let out a long, exhausted breath.
Chapter 16
That day I worked with unusual fervor, desperate to keep my head quiet. I finished everything before late afternoon, and then I did some more. I tidied the lean-to, dusted every inch of the cottage, and washed the stone steps outside. I beat the rugs, aired the quilt, fluffed the pillows, straightened the books, and polished the table.
By evening the place was sparkling, and I had settled at the table with the book on Indians. I’d become absorbed in a series of accounts on tree devils, mysterious spirits who lived to trick and taunt travelers who wandered too deep into the woods, and I was so lost in the stories that when Merrick entered my field of vision, I jumped.
He was still in his robe, and I imagined him staring at me from behind his hood for my reaction. After a moment, he sat across from me at the table.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, folding his hands loosely in front of him.
“Yes,” I replied. “Shall I get you anything, sir?”
Merrick shook his head and then pushed back his hood. He said nothing, studying my face with his penetrating eyes.
I cleared my throat. I was used to him being quiet, but it was different when I could see his gaze fixed on me like that. Without the hood, I had to wonder what he was thinking. Although his tone was as patient and pleasant as ever, his expression could be very difficult to read.
“I have been indoors too long,” he said, just as I was about to mention what I’d read during the day, and he rose from the bench. “I would like to take a walk.”
I nodded. “It’s a fine, clear evening.”
The veil and hood were drawn over his face again. “Will you join me?”
“Certainly, sir.” I rose after him and fetched my jacket from the hook near the door as we left.
Merrick led me along the road in silence, and then veered through the meadow where I’d gathered dandelions and into the forest at its borders. As the canopy of trees cut off the already faint moonlight, I realized stupidly that we carried no light.
“Ah, forgive me, sir,” I said. “I did not think to take a lantern.”
Merrick slowed and turned slightly, lifting an arm to lightly touch my back. “Is it difficult for you to see?”
I peered ahead. The forest was just sparse enough to allow for easy walking, even though there seemed to be no well-made path. “I can manage well enough, sir.”
He kept his hand lightly to the small of my back as we walked on, as though worried I might stumble. After a spell he remarked, “I know these woods intimately. You must not attempt to wander like this alone, however. Be it day or night.”
“I don’t suppose I’d be inclined to, sir,” I said, then recalled with chagrin how I’d said the same thing about ingesting unfamiliar herbs. To support my claim a little better, I added, “Particularly after some of the reading I did today.”
“What might that have been?”
“The tree devils.”
He laughed softly. After a moment, he asked me to describe what I’d read.
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “They’re an ancient tribe of Indian spirits, tall and slim and handsome, and they disguise themselves as saplings. They live in the deep woods, and they run very fast. You can catch them moving at the edge of your vision sometimes.” I looked up at the leaves, trying to discern their shadows from the sky. “A tree devil might toy with a lost traveler, leading him deeper into the woods with false trails and strange sounds. Once that happens, the traveler will never return. The devils might also steal children, or even young women.”
“Do you find that frightening?”
The trees seemed to thin out ahead. I had begun to hear the strange sound of frogs, and I was catching larger and larger glimpses of the black sky between the dense, low foliage and the forest canopy.
“I might,” I confessed. “Say, if I were out here alone, and I heard any strange sound at all. Then again,” I laughed, “All sounds are strange to me, out here. Even my own feet snapping twigs as I walk is likely to startle me…”
My attention turned to the view that opened up before us. We approached an open space I first had trouble making sense of in the dark. Then I saw that it was a marsh, half covered in tall grass painted pewter by the half-moon and swaying in the scant breeze. Ink-black swaths of water marbled the landscape, reflecting the stars. The forest trimmed the marsh all along its edge, rising up beyond in gentle hills. It was a peaceful scene, pleasantly eerie, and the chorus of frogs and crickets was more musical than I would have imagined.
We had stopped before the marsh’s edge, still sheltered by the trees. The earth we stood on ended abruptly several feet ahead, dropping off at the edge of the still water.
“It is good to hear you laugh, William.”
I looked at him, surprised.
“I am sorry these circumstances are difficult for you.”
; Words failed me, for the circumstances had only been truly difficult in one incredibly unexpected way, and I was fairly sure that was not what he meant.
When I said nothing, he continued. “You must feel you have suffered a great injustice. You are no criminal. And yet you have been bound to servitude, confined to a dark cottage removed from everything you have ever known, taken from your work and isolated from your friends and peers.”
Uncertain of what to say, I stared helplessly out at the marsh. At first, what he said sounded absurd, for I was in no such dire straits. But then I realized it was true! I was a bound servant. Beyond Merrick’s watch, I had the same basic rights as a slave. Why did I never seem to think of that? How was it that I never burned at the thought that I was not allowed to return to the city if I wished? Did it not bother me that my Fate lay in another’s hands? Why was I not filled with bitterness and despair knowing that I was obligated to serve and please Merrick?
The Wall creaked. I realized warily that it was starting to feel more like a floodgate.
“When I asked the court for an apprentice,” Merrick said, “I did not know that I would be complicit in the unjust treatment of an innocent.”
“W-well,” I said awkwardly. “I was quite drunk and disorderly…”
“That charge is not worth a young man’s life.”
But it’s only five years, I protested in my mind. After a startled pause I tried to throw that thought behind the Wall, but it didn’t quite go. Apparently, it didn’t work like that. Damned metaphors!
Merrick reached up and pushed his hood back, surprising me. He looked out over the marsh with an expression that was at once distant and intent. Then he turned to me.
“What luminous eyes you have, sir,” I whispered without thinking, and was too wrapped up in the fact of it to be embarrassed. Just as before, his eyes seemed to draw in every scant surrounding trace of light to feed their golden hue. But here, in the dark, they really seemed to glow from within.
He turned fully towards me and then slowly stepped forward.
