His Black Wings

by Astrid Yrigollen

  “Oh, when I came in to check on you, it seemed like she needed to go out so I let her out to have her walk and breakfast. She’s been running around outside with the groomsman, Timothy. You remember, my grandson.”

  “I’m sorry, I over slept. I didn’t get much rest last night.” Mrs. Whitby walked over to my dressing room and picked out an outfit for me.

  “Oh and why is that dear?” I didn’t know if I should tell her the truth or not. I decided to change the subject.

  “What time did Mr. Lowood say he would be back?” I asked as I headed to the bathroom.

  “You have an hour before he arrives. If you get ready quickly you can grab a quick bite to eat before you are off.” I nodded and hurried in the bathroom to shower and dress. By the time Mrs. Whitby served me breakfast I had convinced myself that what I had seen last night was nothing more than an animal of some sort. A very tall animal that was of no danger to me since Naza did not raise any sort of alarm.

  You are a silly girl Claren. I thought to myself.

  Mr. Lowood entered the house whistling a happy little tune which surprised me. He spied me at the dining table and came in.

  “Well! How are we today?” I smiled and used my napkin to remove the last crumbs from the table. The piquant scones that Mrs. Whitby served had satisfied me, but I felt as though I could make room for one more. Mr. Lowood’s appearance cancelled that plan.

  “Fine, thank you.” I answered standing up. I picked up my plate to remove it to the kitchen. Mr. Lowood raised an eyebrow and quickly strode over to me taking my plate out of my hand.

  “Now now, we don’t have time for all that,” he put the plate back down on the table, “We need to get a move on. Mrs. Whitby! Mrs. Whitby we are leaving.” Mrs. Whitby met us in the hall with my coat and a pair of light gloves. He helped me on with my coat and again took possession of my arm. I noticed that Mrs. Whitby’s gaze rested on this gesture.

  “We will be back, hold down the fort will you? Please make sure that Naza does not wander away to far from the house please. That is a concern of Claren’s.” Mrs. Whitby nodded and smiled.

  “Also, Mrs. Whitby, this is of grave importance.” He held up his index finger in the air in front of her.

  “Have the vet come by tomorrow afternoon to have a look at Naza’s leg. I want that blasted splint off.”

  He looked at me and frowned.

  “Excuse my language dear, I am anxious to see Naza bounding through the trees and racing over the lawns here. I am sure she is quite fit now. Don’t you agree?” I nodded. It was something that I had thought about as well. He continued.

  “So let it be then Mrs. Whitby! We’re off!”

  “Of course. Will you be back for dinner Sir?” Mrs. Whitby asked. Mr. Lowood hesitated, then looked at me as if trying to decide something.

  “No we will not be. Call it out on the mountain tops, I am taking Claren out for dinner. Now make sure everyone knows, we won’t be home for dinner.” She nodded.

  The carriage ride took us into the town of Hartsford. A nice city, smaller then St. Marhen but still crowded. Our first stop was at a tog shop. He apparently wanted me to learn how to ride. After several moments of me outside the shop protesting he hauled me in good naturedly.

  “You will learn how to ride. I demand it Claren. You will thank me for it! Trust me.” He picked out riding pants, skirts, coats and boots. It seemed as if we went to every shop in Hartsford. We stopped for some tea and muffins at a café, then we pressed on. He seemed to want to find the perfect items as he put it, “to suit me”.

  The October sky began to darken and bring with it the night time chill. The street lights came on and my stomach began growling. Just when I was about to say something about eating, Mr. Lowood prompted the driver to take us to a restaurant. After a short drive we found ourselves at “The Simkin”. We sat in the corner of this lovely little bistro that had singing waiters. Mr. Lowood would sometimes grimace at me when they would hit high notes. Even though I can’t say I particularly enjoyed all the horsewoman apparel shops we visited, it was nice to see him in good spirits. I once again marveled at his change of personality from St.Marhen to Westwind, his home. With our meal finished and the bill paid, we made our way to the carriage. As I entered the carriage I heard a voice call out to Mr. Lowood.

  “Fredrick! Fredrick Lowood, you son of a gun is that you?” A rotund man waddled up to Mr. Lowood. Mr. Lowood’s expression took on a dark look for a fraction of a second, only I could see it since he faced the inside of the carriage where I had just seated myself. As he turned to face the owner of the voice, his expression changed into a broad smile.

  “It is you! You old devil, where have you been hiding yourself all these months?” The man patted Mr. Lowood on the back heavily.

  “Ah, I thought that was your voice Peterson! I’ve been away on business but I am back now.” Mr. Lowood answered congenially. I could see the rotund fellow attempting to sneak peeks inside the carriage where I sat. Mr. Lowood was obstructing his view though.

  On purpose it seems.

  “Are you out for a little dinner?” Mr. Peterson inquired solicitously.

  “Yes, I had some business here in town and wanted to eat before heading home. I’ve had a long day so…”

  “Yes, well I wanted to tell you then, we are having our annual Winter Ball in December and wanted to make sure you attend this year. It’s good for business you know.”

  “I’ll look for my invitation then.” Mr. Lowood said and shook Mr. Peterson’s hand. There was no way around it, the rotund man would not leave and was determined to see who Mr. Lowood had in the carriage with him. Mr. Lowood entered the carriage and prompted the driver to “walk on”. I am sure my expression was just as astonished as Mr. Peterson’s as we looked at each other through the open carriage window. I fully expected Mr. Lowood to introduce me, as did the rotund little man whom we left standing on the side of the road.

  “I didn’t think I would see old turkey legs Peterson tonight. What a deuce of a surprise that was.” I said nothing as the carriage jostled us about. Mr. Lowood looked down at his gloved hand and swept off some imaginary dust I suppose he saw on his leg. After a moments silence he began.

  “Don’t think me ill mannered Claren. Anyone else I would introduce you to. It’s just this is somewhat of a sticky wicket we are in. You see, old Peterson there, he knows a lot of people. I had hoped to not break my standing tradition of not going to his Winter Ball.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand Mr. Lowood.” He closed his eyes and held up his hand as if toward me off.

  “Claren, I am going to say this once. Call me by my Christian name Fredrick.”

  “I feel odd calling you that, as if somehow I am being impertinent. I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” He opened his eyes and looked at me with that stare that seemed to expose any secrets I may have.

  “Alright. If you will not call me Fredrick then I insist you call me Uncle. We have to have a story for you since it will be frowned upon once it gets out, that a young lady is living with me. It will make it all much more respectable if you are presented hence forth as my niece. Agreed?” he offered me his gloved hand which I took.

  “Yes, but on one condition. That if I am pressed I will say you are like an Uncle to me and that you are really my guardian.” He sighed.

  “What do you have against a little deception Claren?” He asked teasing me.

  “It’s been my experience when you lie things work out in such a way that you are obliged to tell many more lies to cover up your first one. It’s so much easier to just tell the truth the first time around.” He shook my hand with the queerest expression on his face.

  “Agreed. There is truth in what you are saying, but sometimes deception is needed not to hurt the ones we care for.” He looked away and was silent the rest of the ride home.

  ****

  Mrs. Whitby was excited to learn that we would attend Mr. Peterson’s Winter Ball. She rushed in one evening
while I prepared for bed to tell me about it.

  “Oh Mrs. Whitby! I had thought you were on your way home by now. Its just ten o’clock now.” Her gray hair was piled up high in a bun but many strands had come down to give her an unkempt look. She normally looked this way at the end of a days’ work, but tonight there was something different to the way she smiled and her eyes glittered.

  “Mr. Brighton tells me that I am to accompany you to the Winter Ball. Heavens! It’s been ages since I’ve attended a party, even as a maid. We’ve never had one here you know.” I was surprised at her schoolgirls’ excitement. The flush of cheeks did make her look younger and her eyes sparkled.

  I climbed out of bed and went to her, taking her hand in mine.

  “If you are excited to attend then I shall be happy. Mr. Lowood, I mean, my Uncle, had not confirmed with Mr. Peterson that he would attend so I was still unsure.” Mrs. Whitby nodded smiling.

  “He told me not an hour ago and I had to run up here before we went home for the night. I’m to take you to the ladies shops in town this week to pick out a new frock.”

  “But I have dresses…” I began. Mrs. Whitby pursed her lips in to a thin line.

  “Not for this occasion you do not. The ladies at this ball really dress in a grand style.”

  “We still have time yet till December…” I protested weakly. I was still tired from the riding tog expedition and did not look forward to another all day shopping trip.

  “Time? Tomorrow is November the first. Do you want to embarrass Mr. Lowood? He will be showing you off for the first time to all his society friends. You need to look your best, and straight away we need to get you the perfect dress.” Mrs. Whitby set her jaw firm and let go of my hand. I realized that even though I did not enjoy clothes shopping, Mrs. Whitby would enjoy it and I was taking away from her pleasure.

  “As you say Mrs. Whitby. Let me know when you wish to go and I will be ready.” She quit her stern expression and smiled, pinching my cheek softly.

  “There’s a young lady then. You get your rest tonight and we’ll make preparations. We have to be scientific about which shops we go to for choices. There are some shops for young ladies that are highly inappropriate so we will avoid those if I can remember their names.”

  I nodded and followed her to my bedroom door.

  “Good night Miss Claren, sleep well.” She said as she wiped her brow with her white apron. I closed the door softly after her but could still hear her talking to herself about shop names. Naza whimpered softly as I stood by the door.

  “What’s the matter girl? You don’t have to worry, you do not have to go to some dreadful party.” I walked over to her and pet her gray head. She jumped off the bed and walked past me to the door. I sighed deeply. I loved my hound, but it seemed since we moved here she chose odd hours to relieve herself. I couldn’t understand it since she spent a great deal of the day outside with the groomsman Timothy. She now stood at the door and looked back at me.

  “Okay.” Who was I to argue with a dog’s bladder? I put on my robe over my nightdress but could not find my slippers. I knew by this time of night the grass would be wet and cold. Naza came over to me as I searched in my dressing room, then under my bed. She wagged her tail in an impatient manner. I got up from the floor giving up my search under the bed.

  “Alright. You are a pushy girl do you know that Naza?” She laughed her doggy laugh as I opened the door to my bedroom. She shot out of the room and down the hall. The dark wood floor was cold to my bare feet as I hurried down the hall and to the staircase after her. She waited at the top of the stairs for me, right across from the door to the tower room. I thought I heard movement behind that door but quickly moved past it.

  The night was cold and I could feel the sharpness of the air hurt my lungs as I breathed it in. Mist clung to my unbound hair and I felt the wet grass beneath my bare feet as I walked slowly following Naza’s night wanderings. I stopped to sit on a stone bench that was by the pond. This time of year the fish would be staying asleep at the bottom, not moving until the warm rays of spring time penetrated the dark depths of the water. I stared into the blackness of the water finding it somehow intimidating. I switched my gaze back to Naza who would slowly sniff at this tree and that, then something she found interesting on the ground.

  She had become a real night creature since moving to Westwind. I called out to her softly when I saw her heading towards the trees that acted as a windbreak. I remembered my last experience there and did not want to ever go past those trees again. I felt a touch of superstition when I remembered that long ago before the Great War this day, October 31st, was a day that was worshipped by pagans for dark purposes.

  “Naza!” I whispered urgently as she meandered up to the tree break and went through them. I jumped up and ran to her hoping to catch her before she got any deeper into the woods. I ran and burst forth blindly onto the other side of the trees and connected solidly with another figure that was so solid it knocked me back and on to the ground.

  Dazed and a little sore, I looked up to the most handsome yet fierce visage I had ever seen. The eyes glared down at me coldly and the lip curled in disgust.

  “Why have you come here?” The figure in black said to me in a harsh tone. I stared stupidly at his fine features feeling somehow he was familiar to me. I slowly stood up on shaking legs and tried my best to not appear afraid. A gentleman would have certainly offered his hand to me.

  This must be Fredrick’s son. He looks so much like him.

  It was only at that moment when I remember that he was supposed to be disfigured, but I could not see anything unusual about this person. I looked hard into the darkness, but with the trees obscuring the moonlight somewhat, as well as the random clouds passing over the moon, I could only see him. He seemed to grow angry as I stood there stupidly trying to recover my senses from my fall. I opened my mouth to reply to him because I realized that I was being rude, but as I did, I noticed that two large shadows raised themselves on either side of the intimidating form that was Fredrick’s son. I involuntarily took a step back as I looked past the young man till the shadows unfurled themselves completely. My conscious mind could not make sense of it, half wondering if this was a trick of the light and worked franticly for the answer.

  “Answer me! Who are you and why have you come here!?” The shadows shook with rage and I realized what they were. The clouds moved slowly away from the moon to reveal clearly what was before me.

  They were wings. Fredrick’s son had enormous black wings.

  Once I realized this was his disfigurement, my mind began to calm and my rational thought process took over. Even though it was something that was never seen, I felt as though instantly I knew why he was so angry and why he was being so harsh with me. He expected me to run away screaming, to condemn him as a monster and run away. He was hidden away here with no contact, isolated. Preparing himself for rejection, he was rejecting me before I could run off. Well I would not.

  “I’m sorry I ran in to you. I was only looking for my dog.” I pointed to Naza who had come to sit in between us. She looked calm and not at all troubled. This in itself made me feel better. She would know if I was in danger. His fiery gaze never left my face.

  “What?” He stammered seeming somewhat perplexed himself at my response. Inwardly, I smiled for I felt my assumption was proven true. He had expected me to run away. This increased my bravado and I took a step closer to him. He quickly took a step backward to avoid me.

  “I said, I was looking for my dog. My name is Claren. I live here now, at Westwind.” I could see he was dressed in dark slacks and a shirt and his form seemed normal and healthy.

  “I do not care what your name is,” he spat, “You do not belong here and I will see you gone before the morning.” He turned his back to me so that I could see his wings in their full glory and lifted off quickly. I gasped as I saw him rise high in the weak moonlight until he became a small dot in my vision.

  I walked ba
ck to the house stiffly and in to my room. Only now I allowed my heart to beat fast with the exchange I just experienced. Naza jumped on the bed and put her head between her front paws, watching me pace around the room. The fire glowed, spit and sputtered as it wanted to die. I replayed my first meeting with Mr. Lowood’s son over in my head. It gave me a curious pleasure to think of him, something I had not experienced before when thinking upon a young man. I whispered his name that had only been told to me once before.

  “Etrigan.”

  Now that I had seen the owner of the name, to say it out loud filled me with a secret delight. He was human, but a human with black wings. He was fierce, but beautiful, and I detected no mental deficits in that brief exchange. I believed this was with whom Naza was getting acquainted with the other night, but he chose to leave before I arrived. I am a believer that animals can sense and smell things that we humans cannot. They know whether a person has bad intentions. There had to be good in him if she trusted him.