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The Bride of the Immortal

Page 8

by Auriane Bell


  Adrijan carefully took his right hand from the steering link and put it around Mairin’s fingers. They were clenched to a fist and not wearing any gloves her hand was almost as cold as his. At least he was able to feel the slight movement of her fingers, proving that she was still conscious and still with him. He was wondering for how long the path would continue. There were hardly any curves in the road that weren’t ignorable and driving on like this in his condition was getting more and more dangerous. After a few more endless minutes a closed gate finally came into his sight. It was so overgrown with plants that at first he had thought the road had simply ended in front of him. Adrijan slowed down the motorcycle and eventually halted at a safe distance. Staring at the gate he realised that he would either have to find a way to open it or a way around it. Surrounded by the fence the latter didn’t seem to be an option. Once again Adrijan sighed. By now he was more than fed up with running into one obstacle after the other. Frustrated Adrijan stopped the engine, removed his helmet and took out his phone. If the GPS was right, they were actually very close to the driveway to the immortal’s home, meaning that he would have to approach it through the main gate – if he was able to find a way past this one.

  Adrijan could already see the headlines of several newspapers if one of the immortal’s staff should decide to take a photo and leak it to them.

  “Catholic priest on motorcycle kidnapping innocent girl bound with bondage tape” would surely be one of the least shocking. At first the pope would die from a heart attack and then the Vatican would respond to the headlines by capturing Adrijan and burning him at the stake. He knew at first-hand how much his brothers had enjoyed doing that. Maybe one of the servants who would be questioned in the process would make a remark about his age and then they’d decide to not only burn Adrijan but his ashes as well and maybe exorcise them before throwing the ‘dust’ into a sacred repository that would keep all evil from escaping.

  Adrijan shrugged and dialled the number of his manservant. Maybe Alfred was already awake. Even if the sight of his master would be a shock to the old man he wouldn’t run into danger of ending up on the first page of every newspaper. Adrijan impatiently listened to the call signal. Once, twice… soon he would end up on the message box and left alone in the forest.

  “Good morning, Sir.”

  Obviously Adrijan wasn’t out of luck yet.

  “Good morning, Alfred. I’m in a bit of a pickle and need your help.”

  “Of course, Sir, I’m glad if I can be of any assistance, Sir.”

  This was part of what he liked about Alfred: He was a professional. Experienced staff didn’t ask unnecessary questions.

  “Do you by any chance know of a path diverting from the main road? It leads to a secret bungalow in the forest.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  Adrijan was astonished. How could he know this place while Vivian had left him in the dark about it?

  “Sir?”

  Adrijan pulled himself together.

  “Do you know how to unlock the gate to it as well?”

  “I’ll request the key card from Master Vivian, Sir. Would it be convenient for you if I came to pick you up with one of the limousines, Sir?”

  Alfred never ceased to amaze him.

  “Please do that. We’ll be waiting, Alfred.”

  “Very well, Sir.”

  “Oh, and... Alfred?”

  “Sir?”

  Adrijan was tempted to ask him not to take Vivian along but decided that it was too much to ask of the old man. If Vivian had set his mind on something there was nothing that could keep him from doing it.

  “Nevermind. Thank you, Alfred.”

  “Not at all, Sir.”

  Adrijan put the phone back into his pocket. Not only for the girl’s sake was he hoping that they wouldn’t have to wait for long. Exhausted he closed his eyes and put his hands over Mairin’s.

  Her head was pounding and she was shivering even though the coat he had made her slip into was very much like the blanket she had been allowed to use at the hideout. Tied to Adrijan and with the helmet on she wasn’t in a very comfortable position. Her whole body felt cramped and stiff and the only thing giving her comfort was the touch of her saviour’s hands. Mairin longed for the comfortable warmth of her bed, a cup of sage tea with honey for her sore throat and a deep slumber that would drive away all pain and weariness. Maybe Adrijan would make it possible for her.

  “Do you want to see the picture?”

  Adrijan wished he could wipe the smirk off Vivian’s face. Of course the immortal had been with Alfred when he had come to pick them up. And of course he hadn’t refrained from taking a photo with his mobile phone. Adrijan groaned.

  “Aw, come on, don’t be like that. It looks like the two of you had a lot of fun.”

  “Not as much as you do now,” he grumbled.

  There was no point in starting an argument – at least not while Vivian was treating his wound in the medical office that was only a minuscule part of his home. Out of the two of them he had obviously chosen the more practical profession.

  “You didn’t have to risk that much for the girl.” Vivian’s voice had suddenly turned silent and sober. “There is always a replacement for the bride, but what were I to become without you, frater?”

  Frater… Vivian surely didn’t miss out on any opportunity to provoke him. Was he talking to him as a priest or as his brother?

  “Don’t say that. She would’ve been raped… if not worse.”

  Vivian stopped tending to his wound, lifted his head and looked him into the eyes.

  “Worse you say? I can’t imagine anything worse.”

  The immortal paused for a moment before continuing his work. When he did, he was less gentle then before, causing Adrijan to feel a sharp sting in his arm.

  “Even so I wouldn’t trade your life or happiness for hers – or anyone else’s for that matter,” he added focusing on the injury.

  “Still, it would have been wrong to-“ An irate look given by his half-brother made Adrijan lapse into silence. If he continued to maintain his ground they would inevitably end up discussing their past, which was something he was determined to avoid. After all, it was his fault that Vivian had lost the person who had been dearest to him and the least he could do was to keep the promise he had made to Magdala to stay by his side.

  “I apologise,” Adrijan murmured.

  It was unusual for the immortal to lose his temper. Was there still something he didn’t know about his past? Or was it perhaps about the fate of the brides? They were always given a choice but he was wondering whether what was asked of them was in reality worse than what he had saved Mairin from. Maybe Vivian’s thoughts were of a similar nature.

  “This water-proof sticking plaster will allow you take a shower, but I’m going to bandage your arm properly afterwards. Come back as soon as you’re done, I’ll be waiting.”

  There was no sign in Vivian’s voice that he was bearing a grudge against him. Hopefully he had decided to forget about the whole matter.

  Adrijan nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  It seemed that he was still at least an hour away from getting his well-earned rest. For now the shower would have to be enough to keep him going. When Adrijan finally managed to convince his body to get up from the chair he felt like an old man and he walked past Vivian just as slowly as one. Even so, he was already half way through the door when his brother decided to speak to him in a quiet tone. His words hit him like the lash of a whip.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Adrijan. It was her decision.”

  Adrijan didn’t answer. In fact he was glad to leave the room.

  The first day in her new home had gone by in the blink of an eye. Resting on a bed made of clouds and wrapped into warm down blankets that were certainly lighter than a sea of feathers and softer than her favourite shawl, she had soon given in to the soothing words of the young woman who tended to her and ceased to request to see Adrijan. Th
e illness had caused her to sleep through most of the day but the few times she had startled up from her sleep, she had found herself looking into the face of a handsome stranger.

  It was this face that was the first thing to come to her mind when Mairin awoke the following day and started to realise that her perception had been influenced by the fever. Considering the state she had been in the day before, she couldn’t rule out that she had made up the person altogether but even so she was almost certain that the peculiar blue-grey eyes and the short blond hair belonged to one of the men who had rescued her from the ‘metal mule’ – if there had been a ‘metal mule’.

  Mairin sighed.

  Carefully testing her strength she slowly sat up in bed and lifted her hand to her forehead, wishing the illness hadn’t caused her memory to be this hazy. At least she had been able to recover from the worst part and letting her gaze drift she couldn’t deny that she wasn’t back at Sunflower Garden.

  Even though she wasn’t resting on clouds, it would have been wrong to describe her surroundings as anything else than heavenly. The bed she had been sleeping in seemed to be appropriate even for a queen and had to equal a royal bed in comfort as well as in size. The most noteworthy fact about it though was its uncommon round shape. About a third of it was surrounded by a solid back rest that reached its highest point in the middle and contained the head end. That part of the bed was covered with various pillows and the way they were spread showed Mairin just how fitful her sleep had to have been.

  Unable to stop admiring the small wonders in front of her eyes, Mairin let her hand wander over one of the blankets that were – like the cushions – encased by cream-coloured cotton flannel bed sheets with a subtle lilac pattern.

  Mairin felt that she had spent enough time resting and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, allowing her feet touch the soft velour carpet floor. The sudden discovery that her silken pyjama had been replaced by a light, almost transparent nightgown, brought back memories of the servant girl, washing off her sweat and changing her clothes. Mairin could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. She was sincerely hoping that the stranger, whose smile was still haunting her mind, hadn’t been present to witness the whole process.

  When she got up from the bed the fine nightdress unfolded like a wave, and in its full length, reached down to the ground. It was noticeably colder now that Mairin had left behind the warmth of her down blankets yet the temperature wasn’t below of what was appropriate for a bedroom.

  The bed was the centre of an also circular room standing on a platform. With her curiosity aroused, Mairin made a few steps towards the pair of thick curtains that were closest to the foot of the bed and reached almost from one side of the grand room to the other. Mairin slowly started turning around her own axis. Altogether there were five more pairs of curtains, three to the right of the bed, two on its left. Where the third pair of curtains was supposed to be, a paravent, a room-divider, was hiding its own little secret.

  The curtains to its right were drawn back and revealed a tall oriel window and a comfortable bench to sit on.

  The opportunity to look outside drew Mairin closer. As she was slowly approaching her target, her gaze fell on the fireplace that was closest to the head of the bed. In front of it, next to several pieces of fur or a similar material, was a rocking chair and even though the room wasn’t well lit, Mairin noticed that the chair wasn’t empty.

  The girl who had taken care of her was napping inside it, cuddled up in a woollen blanket. Mairin immediately stopped moving, trying to avoid waking her, but it was already too late. Disrupted in her sleep, her caregiver let go of her blanket and stretched and yawned heartily until she finally realised that she wasn’t alone.

  “Oh, Miss Muriel, you’re awake! I’m so sorry I fell asleep,” the girl said, speaking with a heavy accent. The moment she had spotted Mairin, the sleepiness had instantly vanished from her face and had been replaced by a frightened look.

  “Don’t worry.” Mairin made an appeasing gesture and tried to calm the girl. “I am glad that you were able to find some rest after taking such good care of me.”

  The events at Sunflower Garden had proven to her how bad it was not to have any allies and Mairin decided to at least try to befriend her companion.

  “You can call me Mairin.” With a little effort she even managed to conjure a peace promising smile on her face.

  The maid nervously fidgeted around in the chair and tried to avoid her eyes. Despite Mairin’s endeavour, the situation seemed to be awkward for the girl and being socially inexperienced, Mairin ended up thinking for a moment that she had done something seriously wrong.

  “But Miss, that wouldn’t be proper,” the girl explained distressed.

  After all that had happened the day before, Mairin was wondering if it mattered what was proper and what wasn’t. In the end, necessity had overshadowed social rules and false shame.

  “Let’s make a deal then,” Mairin suggested, “when we’re alone you can call me by my name and if we’re in company you are free to act the way you think it best.”

  The girl pursed her lips and stared down at her knees, seemingly thinking about it.

  “Alright, Miss!” she suddenly agreed, already ignoring Mairin’s proposition. “My name is Hilda, but anything will do if that’s too hard to remember.”

  Mairin raised an eyebrow. What kind of treatment was this girl used to?

  “Not that I think it’s too difficult for you, Miss, oh no! It’s just that important people always have such a lot of things on their minds,” she hastily added jumping up from the rocking chair.

  “Oh, I’m sorry! I’m terrible, forgetting about all my duties! Let me open the curtains and get some breakfast for you, Miss!”

  Before Mairin could reply, the girl had already rushed past her and began working on her task. With Hilda gone from the fireplace, Mairin’s attention was drawn to the painting that was hanging on the wall above it. It showed a dark knight with blood red hair who was wearing heavy armour and sitting on a black monstrosity of a horse.

  Father Adrijan’s resemblance to the knight was astonishing.

  Mairin wasn’t certain if it was this, the dark and depressing mood of the painting or the low temperature of the room that made her shiver. Struck by the urge to know more about the artwork, Mairin turned around to ask Hilda about it, only to catch a glimpse of her vanishing behind the paravent. The clapping sound of her small feet on the steps saved Mairin the trouble of having to look for herself what the folding-screen was hiding. It had been foolish of her not to realise earlier that there had to be a way to leave the room.

  Instead of following her maid, Mairin walked over to the other end of the bedchamber, where Hilda had drawn back the heavy curtains, revealing a glass mosaic. The composition of small glass pieces portrayed a fair haired maiden wearing a long deep blue dress. She was resting with her back against a tree and caressing a unicorn that had lain down next to her with its head put into her lap. Seven butterflies of different colours surrounded the gracefully depictured creatures.

  Mairin admired the mosaic for a few moments until she discovered an almost imperceptible door. It took her a few attempts to figure out how to open it but when she finally did and stepped out into the open, an absolutely breath-taking view presented itself to her.

  For a view like this, her room had to be high up – so high up that she didn’t dare to walk over to the stone railing, even though it looked sturdy and safe. In the far distance barren mountains sat enthroned like rough, silent giants. A little closer, yet still out of reach, lay their smaller brethren that were favoured by nature. Their vegetation was bearing witness of the season and already showing shades of red and brown. Together they guarded a lake of mentionable size. Between the body of water and Mairin’s new home stretched a forest that was only separated by a narrow path that led to the lake.

  “Miss? Where are you, Miss?”

  Hilda had returned and was calling for her.
r />   It was like a virus. At first she had been a bother to him, fragile and stubborn as she was. He had mainly saved her out of his feeling of guilt and because he would have hated to see all the work connected to finding a suitable bride go to waste. Now he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

  Adrijan wasn’t even certain why he was so drawn to her. Certainly, she was pretty, yet not in the common sense of perfect symmetry one could find on the title page of a magazine. Mairin possessed fine features and a kind of subtle beauty that was only completed by her charisma. She was irresistibly enticing in her own unique way. To him she was like a siren, forcing him with her song to steer his ship against the ragged rocks. Mairin was destined to become Vivian’s bride and he had fulfilled his end of the bargain. There was no more room for him in her life – except she was in the need of a priest.

  Adrijan dejectedly shook his head.

  Did he really want to be a part of her life? He had to be crazy, having such thoughts about a girl he hardly even knew.

  Once again reason lost to the feelings he was trying to nip in the bud. Against his will he remembered the look on her face, the weak yet soft voice asking for him when she was frightened and didn’t know whom to trust. He had wanted to protect her but instead he had delivered the lamb to the wolf.

  “Is this really necessary?” Mairin had slowly started backing away from the four girls who had removed her clothes to continue to ‘prepare her for the immortal’ as they had called it. Of course she had struggled and demanded that they let her undress on her own but they had politely ignored her and tortured her with a flood of questions about which colours and what kind of fabric and clothes she liked best. Even after the sheer endless explanation of what was going to happen to her after breakfast, Mairin had felt like a new-born babe when Hilda had taken her behind the paravent and downstairs into a room that was of the same shape of the bedroom.

 

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