The Black Lotus (Night Flower)

by Claire Warner

  “Then you are immortal?”

  “Yes.” Melissa heard the word, simple yet sincere, the tones echoing lightly in the dusty air of the library for an instant before dying in the quiet.

  “How?”

  “It’s a long and complicated tale.” Strands of his familiar humour drifted into his voice as he spoke, notes of a mockery that she was only now beginning to understand.

  “Tell me.”

  “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “Yes.” She barely considered the response, only knowing that she wanted the truth, the truth of Justin’s manner and history. His eyes caught hers and she felt her breath catch at the intensity in his gaze.

  “Very well.” He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “I was born in Wiltshire in the year of our Lord, fourteen hundred and ninety five. My father was of good stock and a fixture at the court of Henry the Seventh. My younger brother Alistair and I spent much of our time hawking, jousting and hunting until we called into service at Flodden. We covered ourselves in glory and returned home…” He paused, staring off into the distance, searching for the painful remnants of his past. Melissa waited, stilling the impatient questions that waited on the end of her tongue and wondering just what he saw beyond.

  Chapter 24:

  Late October 1515

  “Christ’s blood I’m bored.” Rain pattered across the shutters and a cold draught whistled through the long hall. The two brothers lounged at the far end of the table, idly tossing a pair of dice between them. It was late autumn and the chill of winter had begun to permeate the castle. Justin stared at his younger brother and answered his complaint.

  “Don’t let the priest or Mother hear you blaspheme.”

  “I’m still bored Justin.” Alistair rolled the dice carefully and sighed as it landed on yet another unfavourable role. “You’re the eldest; find us something entertaining to do.”

  “We could check out the attic, have a look at Thomas’ chest.” Justin suggested as he pulled himself upright. “

  “Isn’t that cursed?”

  “Supposedly.” Justin answered with a careless shrug. “When he brought it back from the last crusade, some witch of a woman told him never to open it.” He chuckled and started to walk towards the door. “I don’t know whether I believe it though. There’s possibly some gem or treasure in there, yet nobody in this family has yet been brave enough to risk the curse.”

  “You don’t believe that it’s cursed?”

  “Let’s just say that the word of a witch who couldn’t keep her own head doesn’t frighten me. So are you coming?”

  Alistair slowly got to his feet and they crossed the hall and headed for the wide stairs that led to the minstrel’s gallery that ran around the edge of the room. Slowly they made their way to the stairs and headed up. The dark wood was smooth beneath their calloused fingers as they reached the next floor.

  “Justin, Alistair.” A light girlish voice interrupted their progress and both turned to see the slight figure of a young girl head towards them. “Where are you going?”

  Alistair turned to his brother and rolled his eyes. Neither felt like entertaining their younger sister this morning.

  “Somewhere you don’t want to go.” Justin said smoothly as he knelt down to her level. “Listen, Nan’s making almond paste in the kitchens. She said that she’d keep a piece for you.”

  “Almond paste?” Eleanor’s eyes lit up in delight and she turned away and headed down the stairs. Justin looked at his brother and winked. Hiding a chuckle, Alistair continued on up the stairs and began to look for the hatch into the rafters. After some investigation they heaved their way into the low ceiling room that wasn’t much more than a crawl space.

  “So you say there’s a chest up here?” Alistair asked as he pulled himself through the hatchway and stared about him. “You can barely swing a cat.”

  “It’s in the corner.. hold on.” Justin felt forward, his vision not much use in the dim hazy light. His searching fingers touched cobweb, cloth and remnants of old armour yet nothing that felt like a chest. He moved deeper into the crawl space, the darkness deepening as he moved away from the feeble light offered by the hatchway.

  “Hurry it up Justin.” Alistair urged uncomfortable crouching low in the darkness. Cobwebs brushed the back of his neck and he scratched absently. “There is a chest right? It’s not just some family myth?”

  “Yes..” Justin grunted in response as he crawled onwards. “I found it when I was a child. Nan caught me however and I couldn’t sit down for a week.” He shuffled forward, feeling the route with calloused hands. “Ah hah! Here it is.” His fingers closed on the edge of something solid and smooth. Reaching forward with both hands, he caught hold of the sides of the box and began to pull it backwards towards the hatch. “Move then.” He ordered as he reached Alistair’s side.

  “Are we looking at it here?” Alistair asked as his brother moved into a more comfortable position and laid the box before him.

  “I don’t fancy explaining to father why we’re running around with this. Do you?” Justin replied as he shifted into a lotus position and stared at the dark shape.

  “Well I can’t see anything.” Alistair complained as he moved to enable more light to spill through the hatch. It didn’t help; the chest lay shadowed in darkness. Alistair shrugged and turned to Justin.

  “I still can’t see anything.”

  “We can’t move it downstairs.” Justin answered, nettled by his younger brother’s impatience. He shuffled about, looking for something, anything to increase the light level. A quick glance upward revealed the answer. “There’s a loose tile up there.” Justin exclaimed as he reached up and poked hard at the ceiling. A spattering of dust or mortar showered their heads as weak daylight lit the small space and the box between them. The sides were smooth and made from some lustrous wood that even smeared in dust retained some of its glory. Over the lid and hinges, ornate and fabulous carvings held the eye, their strangeness offset by their beauty. Neither dared to breathe, both looking at the box with rapt attention, scarcely aware of the time as they drank in the exquisitely carved lines.

  “Shall we open it?” Justin murmured finally, his voice breaking the hushed silence.

  “No…” Alistair’s voice followed, equally hushed, awed by the beauty of the box. “The devil has cursed it.”

  “Nonsense. Good God-fearing souls fear nothing of the devil’s traps and besides, it’s probably a rumour to stop people from getting at what’s within.” He reached for the latch and lifted the lid. Motes of sunshine danced in the air and bounced off the contents of the box. Laid on a bed of blood red velvet was a black enamel flower. Exquisitely carved and painted, the brooch lay like a discarded bloom against the fabric.

  “Is that it?” Disgusted, Justin reached forward and pulled the brooch from its resting place. As his fingers closed around the blossom, he felt it cling to his flesh, the smooth planes of metal and enamel fusing to his skin. A lassitude spread through his body and he pitched forward as the blankness of unconsciousness claimed him.

  “Justin.” Alistair grabbed his brother and pulled him upright. “Justin!” He reached for the brooch, meaning to wrench it free yet as his fingers closed round it, he found it fusing to his hand. As he too fell into a dreamless darkness, his eyes focused on the newly formed second brooch that now lay within his fingers.

  Chapter 25:

  Justin fell silent, still able to remember those fateful moments when his life had changed forever. He could recall the first time his fingers grasped that brooch, it was seared into his memory and no amount of time had dulled that image. He had woken first, seen Alistair lying as though dead next to him and he had tried to draw him out of sleep but to no avail. He could only wait as the light dimmed further, leaving them blind in the dark.

  “Justin?” Melissa’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

  He pulled his mind free of the memories of that dusty attic and into the ruins of his o
ld home. He looked at her face and tried to smile. “So there you have it, my tale, convoluted though it may be.”

  “The brooch gave you immortality?” Her voice was hushed, incredulous, half believing and half chalking him up as insane. Well he couldn’t blame her for that, if he had not lived it, he would find it hard to believe also.

  “You could say that.” He did not wish to mention the price of this life; she would turn from him in disgust if he spoke of the horrors that had filled his life since. It would not matter if he did not tell of it, she was ephemeral and he would have to leave her behind. “Neither my brother nor I have aged since that day.”

  “It’s incredible.” Melissa sank back into the chair, her thoughts full of his tale. She should not believe it, dismiss it all as fancy and yet. “It explains so much about you.” She said finally, running her mind over everything that had seemed strange about Justin. His mocking laughter, his studied boredom and his knowledge, all were explained by this simple yet absurd tale.

  “Really?” Justin raised an eyebrow and looked across at her. The perpetual mocking expression had vanished from his face and he seemed gentler, more open than he had ever been. A thrill of excitement rippled down Melissa’s spine, glad that he could trust her so far. “How so?” He continued, curious to know what had intrigued her about him.

  “Why you seem so much older than you are and how you know so much.”

  “It’s an occupational hazard; you must do something to fill up the days in a long life.” He stood and crossed the floor to stand before her, his face calm. “I’m relieved in a way that you found out.”

  “Why?”

  Justin reached forward and captured her chin. Melissa felt her heart skip a beat as his eyes stared down at her, eyes that were naked with raw emotion.

  “Don’t you know?” His thumb delicately brushed against her lower lip; she shivered with anticipation as he leant forward. His breath wafted softly against her lower lip and she closed her eyes.

  “JUSTIN!”

  A loud voice from deeper in the house startled them. Justin pushed himself away from Melissa. “By all the hells it’s Alistair.” He glanced round rapidly and pushed aside one of the long curtains beside the nearest window. “Hide here.” He pushed Melissa gently behind them and pulled the fabric closed. No sooner had the curtains swished together when the door to the library swung open. Melissa held herself rigid as several loud footsteps crossed the stone floor.

  “You do know that there’s a maid and trap outside?” A slow drawling voice rang across the quiet space as the footsteps came to a stop. Melissa drew closer to the curtain and pressed her right eye against the small gap in the middle. Barely daring to breathe, she watched the unfolding drama.

  “I had noticed yes.” Justin replied laconically to his brother as he settled back into the chair behind him. His long fingers rested on the arm of the chair with apparent ease as his dark gaze took in his visitor. Alistair was playing the role of preacher this day, all black and white. It was a disguise he had used on numerous occasions in the past century. Justin privately thought that Alistair hoped to be healed by continued devotion to God. From behind the curtain, Melissa watched Alistair approach, taking in the details that she had missed during their brief meeting. He was tall, like Justin and he walked with the self assurance of a soldier. His face was handsome, though at this present time his features were twisted in contempt. His gaze raked across the table with its reams of notes and his lips sneered with barely concealed distaste. With a swift movement he reached across and pushed aside a stack of paperwork. Justin flinched slightly as his precious stack of papers cascaded across the table, yet he controlled the impulse to shout.

  “And what is she doing here?” Alistair sat on the cleared edge of the table and carelessly flipped open the nearest journal. Justin’s eyes hardened slightly as Alistair’s fingers idly leafed through the book.

  “Asking for a favour from her mistress.” Behind the curtain, Melissa heard the chill coating Justin’s mocking tones and she bit her lip. Alistair was smirking openly as he skimmed the rough pages, his fingers lingering on the detailed notes, smudging the writing.

  Don’t get angry.

  Melissa silently pleaded with Justin to remain calm as she watched Justin’s knuckles whiten as they gripped the arms of the chair with suppressed tension.

  “What favour?” Alistair finally asked, his fingers running along the flowing script of the book with casual insolence as though daring Justin to say something.

  “Her mistress left a scarf in my carriage.” Justin swallowed the angry words that threatened to overwhelm him and fell back on calm nonchalance. Ignoring Alistair’s studied efforts to annoy him would drive his younger brother mad.

  “And she came all this way to retrieve it?” Alistair snapped the book shut with a decisive motion and stood. “Oh come now Justin, you can think of a better excuse than that.” His eyes swept across the room and lingered briefly on the shut curtains. Melissa jerked backwards, hoping that he hadn’t seen her.

  “Explain what you mean Alistair.”

  “Nobody comes here.” Alistair replied with exaggerated patience as though he were talking to a child. “No one has been to this house in a hundred years, no one except for us. You honestly expect me to believe that you have been handing out this address as a contact?”

  Melissa held her breath as Alistair pushed himself upright and paced the floor between the table and Justin’s chair. “So why don’t you tell me where your latest fancy is?”

  Justin laughed, a short sharp sound of mockery. “Really Alistair, do you think I would invite someone here, to our home and only sanctuary? You are deluding yourself.”

  “Then what is that maid doing out there? Hmm?” Alistair was still pacing the floor, his eyes travelling back and forth between his brother and the closed set of curtains at the far end of the room. Melissa shrank back against the cool glass of the window, hoping that Alistair would soon lose interest. A wrought iron handle pressed into the small of her back and she fumbled with it, wondering if she could make a run for her carriage.

  “As I told you Alistair, she is returning a scarf. I was writing a note for her to take back to her mistress. That is why she is waiting.” He watched Alistair pace the floor for a few moments more before he too stood up. His voice became hard, less mocking and infinitely colder. “I am no longer interested in discussing this Alistair, now why don’t you tell me why you are here?”

  Alistair went quiet, ceasing his movement across the floor as he looked across at his brother. Justin was gambling that the reversion to strict, older brother would cease Alistair’s faltering efforts to find out about Melissa. Of course there was no guarantee that this would work.

  “Well?”

  Alistair took a breath. Melissa bit her lip and silently prayed that Justin’s gamble would pay off. She seized hold of the window latch, preparing to clamber out and run should Alistair come any closer towards her hiding place.

  “You could never lie very well.” Alistair retorted as he turned fully to the curtains and took a step forward. Justin moved to intercept him as Melissa groped clumsily at the iron catch. “Your slut can come out now.” Justin seized hold of Alistair’s arm, face incandescent with fury as Melissa finally pushed open the window. In a panic, she fell over the ledge and landed hard onto the weed choked ground. Pulling herself upright, she hitched up her skirts and ran.

  “How dare you?” She heard the words clearly through the open window and she risked a glance over her shoulder. The open window sent the long curtains billowing and she clearly saw Justin strike his brother across the face.

  “What?” Alistair replied mildly, ignoring the thinning trickle of blood from his nose. “Are you telling me that she isn’t your whore? Because it certainly seems like it to me.” He released himself from Justin’s grip and headed to the window.

  “It will do you no good to run Miss De Vire.” He called in a cruel, amused tone. “So you visit
my brother illicitly? Do not fear, I won’t tell.” Melissa stopped moving and turned back to the window, clenching her fists tightly as her panic slowly turned to anger.