New France

[Cathay]

Chantral

I was surprised by Monsieur Duvenet's invitation..but not by
his manner. As he spoke, I looked at him...as a woman might,
I think. He was ruggedly handsome, with a full head of hair,
a strong jaw. I had not noticed before how good looking he is.
I certainly noticed now. He had none of the effiminate qualities
that I had come to loathe at Court. He was a strong man, a self made man, I think. Powerful in a way I had not been exposed to.
Kind eyes, I thought. All together, a formidable man. I liked that!
Standing, I replied. "Monsieur Duvenet, I would love to have
dinner with you." at his sudden smile, I added, "On two conditions, Call it a boon if you will." He waited patiently. Smiling,
I walked closer and said, "First, I would like to go with you tomorrow on your visit with the Natives" I put my hand up staying
his argument before he could get a word in, "and Lastly, I would
very much prefer you call me Chantral. Just because of an accident of birth, I am a royal princess. I am in a new country,
and I think I would like just to be.........Chantral." At his look
of surprise, I added "Some girls want to be treated as a princess,
I fear I have just discovered...I am a princess who would like
very much to be treated......as a girl."

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

I had to fight hard to keep my mouth from hanging loose in my shock. It took me a moment to react to her requests, I had no choice but to accept her terms. Not because of her highborn rank, but something inside me forced my tongue when I spoke, "Madmoiselle,...Chantral," I said firmly as my eyes raised to hers, "it would be my honor to escort you in the morning." I offered her an arm and gestured to the door and the dinner below. As she reached for my arm, with a smile on her young lips.

My mind was awash in confusion. My old heart was intrigued by this strange creature that gently lit upon my arm. I had thought the bottom was out of the tub of my soul; and then the pinnacle of the life I had deserted those long years ago, a princess, no less, was here. Here in my world with open eyes and grounded reallity. Was this a dream? I wondered to myself as we walked to the stairs. Spying my housekeepper, I called quietly over my shoulder as I began my descent, "Madame Touney, please ask my guest to the dining room," I turned back to the young girl at my side without waiting for a response.

"Chantral, may I ask why you would want to join me in the morning?" I asked softly, my curioustity to powerful to repress any further as we reached the bottom of the stairs. "We get so few visitors here, and to have a stunningly beautiful young woman such as yourself to be interested in one of our local events is, well, quite overwhelming." I say, running a hand through my salt and peppered hair as I stammer out the words. As I am still perplexed by her request, and her manner from her position. I take the hand from my head to open the door to the hall and bending to a slight bow as I do so. Pushing it open to reveal the table set for more guests than this house has seen in many years. Though I really do not see this as I keep my eyes upon the enchanting Chantral, the room is brightly lit by flickering candles from the chandeliers. The glow of warming fire in the hearth bathes the room. Sweet smells burst out to reach us. "I hope our meager fare suits you, madmoiselle," I say my eyes reaching hers.

 

[Cathay]

Chantral

I could not but answer his questions...How to explain to him what
I have just admitted to myself? As I entered the lovely dining room, I looked back and smiled rather disconcertedly. "Ah...Monsieur how to explain?" I walked to the side board and glanced at the wine open and airing, "I think, mayhaps you should know...I have not had the life that most
people would imagine." He was looking me in the eyes and I
felt a sense of calm..of understanding awaiting in him. "My father was the eldest son, the Regent of France and expected to take
the throne upon the death of King Louis, my grandpere. But"
sighing a bit.."He and Maman were killed in a carriage accident,
and My uncle, very quickly set himself upon the throne. I was six
at the time. That was the day, my life changed forever." Looking
at his kind face, I felt the need to reassure him."It's not that I
wanted to be Next In Line..but my ...entire existance changed.
Grandpere, died two days after my parents and the day of
the coronation, I was banished to a long forgotten silent wing
in Versailles. I was allowed out one hour a day in the gardens,
and twice a week for my riding lessons. " I could feel my voice
quiver, took a deep breath and continued. "Never again did
I play with my cousins Eugenie and Francesca. My only visitors
were assorted nannies, tutors and 4:00 tea with Grandmere.
I turned to ...books. Anything I could steal, or blackmail my
tutors into finding for me. " And looking Charles straight in the
eyes, I added "That was the life I lived. In books... and..and..
now I want to live. Not just read about it." I could hear doors
opening on the floor above us and knew the others would be joining us soon. "Charles...My Uncle Jean sent me here, to keep
me out of the court's intrigues. I think....I think to save my life.
That is the reason I had no companions all these years. My dear
uncle The King...feared I would somehow fight for the throne."
I wanted to laugh. "I hated Court! Hated the vapid insipid
gossipy throngs that live there. Did you know that I have had
dance instructors, yet I have never been to a ball?" I could tell
he was amazed at that, most people assume because I am
royal and lived in a palace that I lived the life of a courtier. Not
true. "Monsieur Duvenet...Charles...I want to learn...I want to
see, smell, taste all the things I've read about!" That is why I
wish to go with you in the morning!" Looking up into his handsome eyes I added honestly, "Besides Monsieur, I would
like to see more of your world......And you."

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

Hearing her words and seeing the deep sadness of the tradgedy of duty that weighed on her soul shining through her beautiful, dark eyes. I placed a hand upon her small shoulder as I spoke softly to this young creature, "Chantral, I too abandoned the life of the court to the wilderness, long ago...long, long ago," I said with a heavy heart. For perhaps the first time in my life I felt old here in the prescence of this wonderful girl who brightened my heart. "This is a magnificent part of the world, free of pomp and ceremony. Undebased by corruption and politics," I said as I took her cheeks in both hands, ever so gently. Keeping my gaze upon her eyes locked, afraid to blink and have this vision before me vanish. "Therefore, my dear sweet child, it will be my honor and pleasure to give you the zest of experience here in this stragne new world," I said kissing her lips lightly and breifly.

Backing off but an inch, "Chantral, you must call me Charles, I do so hate formality, my dear," I said hoping that my indiscreet kiss had not flung her from me forevermore. My hands dropped from her cheeks, my gaze shifted from her young face and swung to the wine that had been laid out for us, "Perhaps some wine, Chantal?" I asked as the color evacuated my face. Charles you old fool! I thought to myself, what the hell are you doing?!? A girl young enough to be your daughter and a princess no less? She can have no feelings for you. What are you playing at? Why? I picked up the deanter and plucked up two goblets as my brain and my heart fought pitched battle in my soul. I closed my eyes to shut the internal conflict out for a moment, heaved a sigh, and turned towards her, unable to look in her face.

 

[rashid]

With my head full

of Mathilde, even the vastness of this wilderness which held me captive failed to divert my thoughts. The small hand on my manhood, the perfect breasts, the softness of her hair, all conspired to confound me. But, as much freedom as I was allowed, it seemed I remained a prisoner and THAT would prevent me from becomming intimate. This woman was no whore to be used and discarded.

As I sat, lost in these thoughts she found me and tried bravely to act as though nothing had happened, making small talk about goose eggs and the beauty of the day. When I remained silent, she hesitated and then SHE apologised to ME for MY transgressions. I could not believe my ears and immediately took her into my arms and shushed her saying "foolish woman, it is I who should apologise, as long as we remain captive there can be no life for us and a child would be like an anchor holding us here."

"then it is you who are the fool" she said, "there are many ways to enjoy each other which cannot make a child" and, feeling brave, she kissed me. Lips as soft as rose petals grazed mine and melted into me like honey. The heat from her body was a fire to consume me and for a moment I was lost.

Seconds later, we were surrounded by armed warriers. Having found our tent empty, they thought we had attempted an escape and followed our sign to the stream. Finding us thus, they were greatly amused and with much prodding we were taken back to the camp to make ready for the day. A day which I would long remember.........

 

[MissVictoria]

Mathilde Haes

In the cool morning air, he spoke quickly. "Foolish woman, it is I who should apologise... as long as we remain captive there can be no life for us and a child would be like an anchor holding us here."

Mathilde was stunned with his response... was it possible that he knew her dreams? Or was it that... (and she felt ashamed to hope)... that he felt the same way of her? That he had perhaps shared her dreams? It was almost too wonderful to accept, and for a moment she could do nothing but stare at him blankly.

She was not entirely sure whether she should be excited or offended at the statement, and was perhaps a mixture of both. It was, after all, improper to speak of such things when one was not married. He was as forward and to the point as her dreams had been, and flushing pink in the earliest morning sun, she tried to protect her good image by speaking nary of the private relations between man and woman, but by the many other ways that they might enjoy themselves.

"Then it is you who are the fool" she replied finally, speaking slowly and in a quiet tone. "There are many ways to enjoy each other which cannot make a child..."

Mathilde looked up and into his eyes with hope that he was not offended in her response. Instead, she thought what she saw was admiration, or adoration, and the young woman was consumed in a desire to show him her own. A kiss was born, and it was soft, small and inexperienced. But what began in innocence of her first kiss grew into something greater.

From the first seconds her lips touched his, she was shaken with a wave of desire, and longed to consume him with her own mouth. A soft shock of excitement traveled down her spine, and it felt as if his lips burned upon hers, and she could not be still. Instinctively, she cought his lip between hers, tugging softly, lingering her breath near his and then diving forward for more, her lips moving softly, encompassing, capturing and releasing.

And then it was over, when suddenly he pulled away. She looked up to see herself surrounded by the faces of her captors, and blushed heavily as they grinned in amusement. She stood in embarrasment, and cast a last look to her companion before walking quickly back to the camp, laughter echoing behind her.

 

[quiet_one_68]

A warm breeze blew by Mathilde....

She did not see Him , as He was with her thoughts of that innocent kiss. She was overcome with the emotion, but He bouyed her, and held her up. Her release of her hidden passion in one so beautiful, was almost like sweet nectar to Him. He experienced it with her, and it also became His. He would watch for her, because of her innocence, and try to be there , if she needed Him.
She was embarrassed by her captors, but as they left her, He remained for that brief moment that she closed her eyes, and He , for a moment , revisted with her, that tender kiss. As she sighed , He took His leave of her, and melted away with the wind.

 

[Cathay]

Chantral

I was so pleased by his kiss. There have been so few kisses
in my life. I think I can count on 1 hand the kisses I've had
since Maman died. Though to be honest, there weren't too
many of them. Mama and Papa shared a grande passion and I
was a mere slight interference in their life. They truly had eyes
just for each other. I found it fitting that they died together.
But, as I greeted the other diners as they came in and sat
at the table, I could see a look of consternation on Charles'
face. While he poured us some wine, I could see the blush
of embarassment light upon his face. He handed me the glass without looking at my eyes. For just a moment, I wanted to
cry. He must have found me wanting. Oh...maybe he was
embarassed for himself. Did he think because he was older,
he was not a handsome virile man? Hmmm, food for thought.
The dining room was filling fast, the quiet chattering of the
other guests as they greeted each other and took their seats.
I watched as Charles took a deep breath, turned to his guests
and smiled a welcome smile. It was time I did the same.

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

I tried to regain some small manner of composure as the rest of my guests arrived to dine. "It is so good of all of you to come, and share my humble fare." I said as they filed in. I called for the servants. Against all of my will, but following everyone of my instincts I pulled the chair to my right out adn offered it to the beautiful Chantal, "Madmoiselle, if you could find it within you to honor me so," I said pathetically gesturign to the chair. How long had it been since I was offering a chair to a lady with my heart. I could not think of that now...now I could but only hope she did not throw her wine in my face and flee from my prescence before the others.

 

[caspai]

Amalie

When the housekeeper had told me that I was to join the rest of the guests for dinner, I wished suddenly that I could just stay in my room. Hiding had become natural for me. It had been so long since I had been a part of any society. I was afraid that it would take only one look at me, and everyone would know me for a fraud. It was impossible to remain hidden, however, so I straightened my clothing and my hair as best as I could, and descended to the dining room.

The ring on my left hand was an unfamiliar weight on my finger, and I turned it nervously. Realizing what I was doing, I dropped my hands, looking around. The older man I had seen briefly on the ship was there. This must be his home, I realized. He didn't seem to notice anyone in the room other than the young woman, Chantral. It was not a surprise that she would have caught his attention so quickly, her beauty was unsurpassed.

I quietly take a seat at the table, not wishing to draw too much attention to myself, wishing that the dinner would soon be over so that I could again retreat to my room With every eye that falls on me, I feel as if the person could see directly into my soul, and the feeling was disconcerting, to say the least.

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

I catch the young woman, Amelia, come in to dine with us. A widow at ther age, the wieght of it seemed espescially hard for her to bare this night. "Madame," I begin to her quietly, playing thr unfamilliar role of the propper host. "Madame, are you not feeling well?" I ask as carefully and quietly as possible, not wnating to make her even more uncomfortable. I wondered what pain clung to her young heart. "Perhaps some soup?" I offered with a smile.

I could not help, but to return my gaze to the fair Chantal as I awaited for the poor dear's response.

 

[caspai]

Amalie

I hear a voice saying something soothing and calming, talking to someone he is referring to as "Madam". With a start, I realize he must be speaking to me, and I look up in alarm.

"Oh, soup, yes, that sounds wonderful. Thank you."

I smile weakly, my heart beating wildly. I must try to remember that they think of me as a widow. Never having been married, I am unfamiliar with the change in status my new title provides for me.

I watch M. Duvenet motion for a servant, who brings my soup. Having played the proper host, his attention turns again to the beautiful young woman at his side. This is a relief to me. The attentions of men were once a delight to me. Now, such attentions only inspire fear.

 

[Cathay]

Chantral

The dining room filled up quickly, the other guests speaking
quietly to each other. I could see that, everyone seemed to
be still a little uneasy. Here we are I thought, all of us in
a new strange place, far from home. Not all from France, but
still far from the familiar. I could see that Amalie looked
especially uneasy. My heart newly ached for her and I didn't know why. I heard Charles speaking to her, it took him a minute
to get her attention as if she didn't know to whom he was
speaking. She was wearing the gold off her wedding band,
it seemed a little big.....it made me wonder. She smiled at Charles and seemed a bit relieved when the servant arrived
at the same type with a soup tureen. Conversation was a bit
stilted but I think, that maybe it is just because none of us
really knew each other, and I knew that would change with time.
Charles was a wise man, much better at drawing people out
than I think he even realized. The meal was going well (the
food was so delicious I thought I'd swoon!) when I happened
to hear Amalie speaking more animatedly to Charles. I froze.
Did I hear correctly? I thought she's asked him about
his wife. His wife? He appeared startled. "I am sorry, she...
she passed away a few months ago." Amalie stammered, her
face aflame..."I am so sorry Monisieur. I did not mean to intrude."
He waved her apology away graciously, "It is all right, my dear.
You could not have known." and looking at me, he added "She
had been bedridden for over 6 years. It was a....blessing."
My face did not register shock, I had been schooled well.
I nodded almost imperceptibly. I bit my lip and turned my
face away, my eyes filling. In sympathy. But for whom?
Charles.......or myself?

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

I reamined as calm as possible consoling the young widow. Poor dear. Then I noticed Chantal turn away and put a hand to her face. Turning back to Amile, "Excuse me, Madame," I said bowing my head politely.

I leaned over to Chantal and inquired, "Chantal," I whispered quietly, as I slipped a hopefully comforting hand under the table adn gently rested it upon her thigh. "Chantal, mon cher, are you alright?" I asked stupidly. I wanted nothing more than to have my house to myself and be able to grasp her tightly and kiss her welling eyes and beg her loudly to confess the pain of her heart to me. Lest I know, what infraction I have made upon her. Oh how I hated playing the host! I would have given a king's ransome to be alone with Chantal, to stop her tears. To give her my heart...

I made a descision, and the consequences be damned! I thought to myself sa I ran a hand through my hair. "Chantal, are you not well? Should I show you back to your chamber?" I offered boldly taking the hand from my head and placing it hopefully upon her hand. Accidentally sliding my other hand a tiny bit up her leg. Praying that she would not flee from my accursed prescence...

 

[Cathay]

Chantral

I feel such....confusion. Of course, the man had a wife, you silly twit, I murmur to myself. He's Julien's father, Mon Dieu! For just a moment, my heart aches for him. Sick for six years! What a fine man he must be to have cared for her...till death do they
part. A million thoughts ran thru my mind with lightening speed.
Is he so solicitous to me .......just to be kind? I have not known
him long......and yet ......I felt such a strong connection. An intense attraction. I'm such a child.......Merde. I know so little
of men, and sadly..have even less knowledge of....myself.
Charles came and sat next to me, I feel his hand resting lightly
upon my thigh, so comforting and yet....there is a sense of heat
of possesion in this small delicious touch. Unbidden by me, my heart races as I feel his fingertips glide upon my leg, his words
so kind. His other hand covers mine and I look into his handsome eyes. ""No...Charles. I am fine. I...didn't realize..well.." My voice
trails off, realizing that we are not yet alone. I turn my palm up
under his and squeeze lightly. "Mayhaps, it 'twould be better
to talk...later..after dinner perhaps? When we are alone, hmmm?"
He looked at me and nodding almost imperceptibly....then he
surprised me completely! He lifted my hand and kissed my
fingers, lingering abit longer than usual. Quietly, for my ears
alone he spoke, "Of course, my dear. " His voice had purpose,
though spoken gently, barely a whisper, "Later than Chantral.
I would enjoy that very much."
His eyes held the promise of the unknown and his breath was
warm at it carressed my skin. Suddenly, I was no longer hungry.
At least not for the scrumptious food that lay before me still
waiting to be eaten. I wanted nothing more for this meal
to be over.

 

[cgraven]

A message Comes

I had wandered the day away as the sorrow of our journey ways on my spirit. I had gone in search of a quiet place, a place where I could let my spirit guide come to me, to guide me to except the things I must, of the loss of a love almost found, but to soon lost, of the runner who had brought the news of Julien Philipe
death. I had promised to bring my friend Charles the news.

The sun had gone and at dusk the “Raven” came to me, to show me the way. As in my youth he enfolded me in his dark wings. I saw the stone lodge as the lights twinkled from it windows, through the unblinking eye of the “Raven”. The way was now clear to me.

I rose and went to the stone lodge. The message must be delivered so that the healing could begin. The man was afraid of me I could see it in his eyes. Yet he showed me to his master.

They where gathered around the table sharing a meal. The women looked at me with a start, fear growing in their eyes, at this ‘Savage” in their midst. My red trophy coat and all my finery, sliver brooches, rings in my ears, nose, and feathers of the birds of the forest feastuned me.

"Le Fouet", the whip that drives our enemies before us, starts to rise in greeting, but my words cut the legs from under him.

“Julien Philipe is dead.”

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

"Later, then, Chantal," I said with a warm smile. My heart beat with warmth at that moment for the first time in longer than I cared to remember. I patted her leg, unseen beneathe the table cloth, as I gently squeezed and released her hand on the table. I was actually smiling as I grabbed my goblet, looking around the table to my other guests. Before I could get the wine to my lips there was suddenly a redclad figure in the door, brushing past the servants and striding in to the dining room.

To calm my guests, I rose and welcomed him, "L'Ombre Du Bois, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Standing and raising my cup towards him, to show he was welcome and all were safe. Then he spoke. His words were like sabre slicing through my soul. All of my strength left me, the goblet tumbled from hy hand and shatterd upon the table, splattering Chantal and Amelia with atomized droplets of crimson stains. I did not notice. Suddenly I was completely alone in a room filled with people. There was no sound, no light. I remembered a fire blazing, but felt no warmth. Memories of my son as a tiny infant, scenes of him as he left for Le Acadamie, everything rushed through my head.

I did not know how much time had passed, an instant, an hour; when I realize I had fell into my chair. One hand holding my head, one tear coursing down my cheek. I rose and strode for the door, in silence. I felt so alone... I paused breifly at the side of L'Ombre, I could not lift my eyes to face him. I could not find the words. I could do nothing, but place a weathered, old hand upon his proud shoulder and squeeze it hard before I passed through the door around him.

 

[cgraven]

The sting of my words have wounded "Le Fouet", his spirit is sickened as I watch the joy go from his eyes. The women also feel his sorrow, I see it in their eyes also.

“Le Fouet” paused briefly by my side, he can not look into my eyes. I could not find the words. I could do nothing, as he places a weathered, old hand upon my shoulder and squeeze it hard. I embrace my brother in and effort to give him strength and some peace, to let him know I feel his pain also, for the lose of his “Petit Enfant”, before he passed through the door around me.

As he goes I start to sing my death song for Julien Philipe . Tears stream down my hardened cheeks for the pain of his lost. A loss I to have so recently know.

 

[Cathay]

Chantral

For just a minute, I did not know what I was looking at.
A man strode into the dining room. I had never seen the like
before. With a start, I realized I am looking at a native. A...
what was the word I had heard before...a..savage. I had been
startled by his appearance for just a moment, then utterly fascinated.
He brought tragic news. Oh Charles.......my heart aches for you.
Lightening fast, I see the shock and grief on his entire demeanor.
I feel a small mirror of his shock and grief myself. I had not known
Julien long..but he was young and vivacious.......and Charles' son.
Unbidden, I rise as Charles falls back into his chair, the room
suddenly silent. All within are silent with their unified sympathy
for their newly met host. My throat tightened and tears pooled
and blurred my vision. Charles rose and went towards the open
door where the stranger stood and I watched as his hand clasped this man's shoulder...hard for a moment. I realized these
two shared a mutual friendship and respect and I marvelled at that. After Charles stepped beyond him into the hall, I could
see the tears that coursed unabashed down his dark painted
face. He began to keen and I knew that he was grieving deep
for his friend, and his friends son.
I turned to my dinner companions and spoke..."If you will
excuse me please." and I went round the table to follow Charles.
The Native stood in front of the door as if to block my way. I looked into his eyes and spoke quietly, not knowing whether
he would understand. "Please...He needs me. He....needs what
comfort I can bring." We stared at each other, neither looking
away. Finally, he nodded almost imperceptibly and moved so I could pass. "Thank you." I went out and looked for Charles.
I knew that even if he felt the need to be alone... He needed me more.

 

[rashid]

meanwhile back in the forest

I wonder at the association between these savages and the great stone manse they've come to visit. Mathilde and I have been kept under close guard, surrounded at all times by Abenaki, refused even minor freedoms like bathing or toiletries. What can be the purpose for bringing us to this place? Are we to be sold? Used as bait? Given as a present?

Too many questions and no answers. I knew only that the gray stone house was French and that might work to my advantage given an opportunity. The French I knew and respected. My enemys enemy is my friend and anyone who could help me wreak vengence on the lime eating vermin who had destroyed my crew would be welcomed by me.

In the meantime I had Mathilde to consider. I would not leave her to an unknown fate. If I made an escape she would have to come with me. And so, while I waited to see what unfolded at the great stone house, I continued weapons practice with my 'brothers' crew. They were fierce, proud and great fighters. At close quarters, unsurpassed. The Shadow had given me back my sabre and the men were facinated by it, constantly demanding demonstrations of how it should be used. In truth they were keen to learn how a man armed with a knife or a spear could defend himself against such a weapon. As long as the enemy was English, I had no qualms teaching them and doing so brought me steadily closer to being accepted as one of them.

The breeches and white cotton blouse I had washed ashore in had long since disintegrated and with each passing day both Mathilde and I looked more and more like our savage captors. Only our hair could truely set us apart. Soon, I would appear as one of the legendary French 'courers du bois', the 'runners of the woods' who lived among the natives, trapping furs, trading, and often marrying into the tribes. An interesting life, but I had vengence on my mind. I would have my vengence and I would return to Rotterdam in command of a captured british vessel greater than the one lost, or I would die in the attempt.

To do that I had to survive and cultivate alliances. Would the meeting in the great house advantage me or would I have to escape with Mathilde and go it alone? Here on the river I could make the escape but allies were far preferable to living as a fugetive. And so I waited..................

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

I closed the study door behind me quietly and went straight to the crystal decanter of brandy. I pulled the cork and raised the crystal opening to my parched, tearstained lips. The brandy flows like the St. Lawrence down my throat, emptying into the ocean of my liver.

I pull the useless vessle from my lips as the last drops caress my tongue. In frustration at my own survivla I hurl the damned thing intothe fireplace. Shard of crystal scatter like stars over the balckened stones. Echoing out over the carpets. Blue flames erupt instantly on the galss that remains in the fire. The hint of brandy quickly igniting and blazing, then fading away into smoke like the loves of my mserable life. Disappearing before my eyes. Vanished. Alone.

I sink into my favorite chair. Burying my head in my hands. Body quaking with silent sobs. Just as I pull a pistol from my pocket and raise it to my right temple. I pause as the door creaks open....

 

[Cathay]

Chantral

I ran into the foyer but couldn't see in which direction Charles had gone. Something told me.......hurry. I stopped when I saw the butler Abraham standing outside a closed door. He was
standing there with his head bowed, his shoulders shaking ...his
sobs silent. He had one huge hand flat on the door, as if knowing
somehow that this was as close as he could get to comforting his
master. I ran to him and laid my small hand on his.
"Abraham....is..is Monsieur Duvenet in this room?" He slowly raised his eyes to mine, tears ran rivulets down his weathered
face as he whispered..."Yes Maam." I stepped to his side,
"Abraham...I am going in there now." and patting his back I added, "Don't worry. I'll take care of him. I promise."
Nodding slowly heavy with grief, he stood aside and opened the
door for me.
As I stepped into the room...I saw Charles sitting in front of the fire...and my heart ... just stopped. In his hand, lay a pistol...
"No Charles." I whispered. His hand stopped but still the
pistol was raised. I came and stood next to him, my hand
reaching out and encirling his fingers. I brought my left hand and
laid it on his head, gently offering what comfort my touch might
bring. His head was bowed, bearing witness to his immense
grief, shoulders shaking. I brought my face down to his ear and
spoke quietly, even though his hand was still under mine, he had
not yet lowered his arm. Quietly, I spoke again. My lips against
his ear, my left hand still stroking his hair. "Please Charles.
Please...." my voice catching. He didn't look at me..."Go
Chantral.......Leave me alone!" his voice rasped low and sorrow
ridden. My lips kissed his ear, "No Charles, I will never leave you alone." Tears were flowing freely down my face now, and I kissed his neck, my right hand trying to push his armed hand
down and away from him. There was a slight give and I pressed on. "Please Charles, don't leave me." I whispered sobbing
freely now, "Not when I've just found you.........please."
His arm lowered against the pressure of my hand or my heart,
I was not sure. Nor did I care. When the pistol fell onto the carpet, I came around and sat myself on his lap, my left hand
still on his head, fingers curling into his hair. His arms wrapped
round and found purchase, while he buried his face into my neck and sobbed. I know not what words he spoke, I only knew
that he was still here , (Thank God) taking whatever comfort
I had to offer. Both arms wrapped tight around this bear
of a man, I found myself kissing him over and over whispering. "I love you Charles. love you..love you." As his sobs subsided a bit, I could feel his fingers digging into my back and reveled in it. I placed both my hands in his hair and acting by instinct, I raised
his face to mine. His eyes looked into mine, aching and needy, and I did the only thing I could. I lowered my face to his and
laid my lips where they were most needed.

 

[rashid]

Hours later

a messenger came from the mansion with word from the Shadow that I was to be escorted there in the morning. Something was in the wind.

That night I lay with Mathilde, naked under the furs of our captors tent and talked of what the morning might bring. Between kisses we talked of freedom, a return to the continent and the royal court in Amsterdam. True to her word we made love in every way but one and that one was not sorely missed.

When morning came, the messenger from the previous day arrived with gifts from the Shadow. It seemed that the red coat he had worn to the mansion had not been the only prize taken from its former owner. I was given boots, white breeches, and the uniform blouse which comprised the balance of the uniform. The hat was missing - presumably shattered, like the skull beneath it, by a heavy stone 'Tomahawk'.

Being about equal in hight and girth to myself, the Shadow had guessed they would fit and he had been correct. Mathilde washed and braided my hair, finishing her task with a ribbon to tie in the top of the braid. Even without a glass I felt I looked my station for the first time since being washed ashore.

I was to be presented as a gentleman. My new brother was wise..........

Shortly after the break of dawn our party left for the mansion

 

[Swashbuckler]

Charles

The weight of the pistol left my hand as she wound herself to me. I felt Chantal, rather than realized Chantal glide as weightless as an angel of god into my lap. Saving me from myself. I burried my face in her shoulder. The hot rain of greif thundered from my eyes, soaking her gown in its relentless torent.

Her kisses began to bathe my head, as soothing fingers of life wound themselves into my hair. My excruciatingly old and feeble arms clutched tightly to her waist. I held Chantal as if she were the precipice from which I dangled above the pit of hell itself. She had become the only thign in the world that mattered to me. The only reallity I had to cling to. All else was gone.

She raised her face to mine, her sweet face brigning me out of my spiral of grief, just being there. Her lips falling towards my own, her voice saying she loved me. My eyes widened in disbeleif as our lips locked. I squoze her young body tight to me. Smothering her with myself. My tongue engaging hers in a duel to the passion. My arms widning around her back, one hand slipping unguided beneathe her shoulder insearch of her silken skin. Climbing up her perfect neck, gliding beneathe her hair.

Suddenly I fought off my will barely, to break our kiss. "Ch-chantal, my love," said through tears, "mon petite ami, I am the angel of death. I fear to love one so perfect as yourself. I-I-I could not bare to let you into my heart, the cradle of doom itself. I can not!" I said pleading with her eyes. Desperate to have her slap me and flee from my house to save her life. Desperate for her to kiss me again and lose myself into her. Desperate....desperate....desperate...... ..

 

[MissVictoria]

Mathilde Haes

He spoke of bold escape, forging alliances with the Frenchman, and many other things. With all my heart, I would follow him whichever path he chose, but I did not have his confidence. And while at night, our bodies exuding their heat at the silky press of my skin against his- I supported him, encouraging his plans... secretly I did not believe they would come to be.

I was not an ignorant woman. I knew the importance of dreams in trying times, and plans, lest the light of a man die and he become living but lifeless.

The next morning, after I had prepared breakfast for the camp, I returned to our tent to see that my companion had been presented with new clothes.

"It seems I am to visit the mansion in good form," he explained. "But I could not discern the reason from the messanger's speech."

"I should have been here" I apologized, speaking softly in my fear of the unknown. What was to become of him? To become of me? Was he to be killed with dignity? Jailed? Set free? If only I had been here, I would not have had to wait in the shadow of ignorance.

"It is fine," he replied softly, clasping a hand at either of my shoulders and kissing my forehead tenderly. I do not believe he saw the tears of fear and despair in my eyes.

I helped him prepare for the visit, brushing out the clothing, braiding his hair in proper gentlemanly fashion.

In what seemed like the rush of a few seconds he was taken from me, escorted on all sides by our captors, and I did not know if he would return. In silence, I bit on my fist, and let the tears come.