‘I’ll be leaving now,’ he announced.
Titch’s head snapped up.
‘But there is nowhere to go!’ he croaked, coming forward. ‘The night is upon us!’
Immediately, Kayn regretted what he had said. He was starving and weary to the bone. The words had just come out, much to his surprise. But he could see that Titch felt wretched and he knew that gave him the advantage. Still angry, he decided to make the little man beg for him to stay.
‘I’ll find somewhere,’ Kayn said, slowly.
Titch shook his head miserably.
‘Please,’ he pleaded, coming over to him and touching his foot. ‘Stay the night at least, until you get your bearings.’
Kayn’s anger vanished almost immediately. Something moved in him when the little man touched his foot. He looked so small, so helpless. It made him suddenly aware of all the things he took for granted every day, all the things that poor Titch would never experience.
‘Okay,’ he mumbled, feeling a great remorse washing over him.
‘Here,’ said the little man excitedly, dragging Kayn over to the corner.
‘Feed yourself. You must be perished!’
Kayn sat down on the straw as Titch thrust a piece of black bread into his hands, but felt so guilty he found he could not look Titch in the eye, nor eat the bread.
‘Go on,’ Titch said encouragingly. ‘Eat up! You need it.’
Finally, Kayn took a bite and at once felt his hunger , his stomach rumbling loudly. The little man nodded approvingly, grinning at him.
‘I can’t eat with you watching me,’ Kayn told him.
The little man looked disheartened.
‘Oh,’ he said, knuckling himself away over to his own pile of straw.
Kayn took up the bread and ate some more, helping himself to some of the dried fruits. He ate in silence, enjoying the food, whilst Titch sat in his corner quietly, keeping his eyes on the ground.
Kayn’s thoughts strayed to Tiffany. He felt his face glow warm, remembering her reaction. Only this morning Titch had backed away from him, right on this very spot. And now Tiffany. His mood grew dark and he only realised that he had stopped eating altogether when Titch coughed to shake him from his trance.
‘You’ll be leaving soon then,’ Titch said softly. ‘Maybe tomorrow, or the day after.’ The candlelight was behind him, obscuring his face.
Kayn stared at him in disbelief.
‘You’ll have places to go to,’ the little man continued.
Kayn put the bread down.
‘About Tiffany,’ he said, letting a long pause linger.
Titch was looking at him anxiously, holding his breath.
‘I was with her up in the glade.’
The little man’s gaze dropped. Kay couldn’t see his eyes, but his head drooped and his shoulders sagged.
‘She’s fun to be with,’ Kayn continued, chewing the food in his mouth. ‘And a good kisser.’
Titch gasped loudly and wobbled where he stood. There was silence for a few moments, then Titch began rocking gently back and forth, issuing a small whine. Suddenly, Kayn regretted his words, but he had said it and there was nothing he could do now to undo the words. Slowly, Titch lay down on his bed of straw, turning his small body over, his back to Kayn, his small whine the only audible sound in the stable.
Kayn felt numb with remorse. He couldn’t explain what had come over him. He knew he had no right to stay here for as long as he wanted and realised that he would have to go someday, but Titch had stung him by hinting that he was no longer welcome.
However, as sorry as he felt, he could not find in him the words to console the little man. Instead, he picked up the bread and resumed eating, doing so as silently as he could manage, betrayed only by the loud rumbling of his stomach.
By the time he finished, Titch had stopped his whining. Kayn knew he had hurt him very much, and without real cause. He felt terrible, cursing himself for his stupidity. He would try to make amends in the morning. Perhaps then Titch would feel differently about tonight, although he doubted it.
He blew out the candle and lay himself down on the patch of straw Titch had set out for him.
‘Good night, Titch,’ he whispered. ‘And thank you.’
Titch said nothing. He lay staring at the straw but seeing none of it, seeing only Tiffany through the blur of his hot tears.
19
Middle Ages
The day outside was bright and filled with the sounds of children playing. Kayn opened his eyes and stretched, letting out a long, drawn out yawn. He sat up looking around for Titch, but the little man was not in the stable. Kayn was suddenly reminded of the things he had said to him last night.
His heart sank when he wondered how miserable the little man must be feeling because of him. Then he thought of Tiffany and his heart felt even heavier. Titch would see her today – might even be with her now – and she would let him know, in her own way, of what had transpired last night on the hill. And then surely the little man would return and order him to leave his home and be gone forever. And there was little or nothing that Kayn could do to change his mind. Especially after last night.
Feeling hopeless, he ventured outside into the sunlight. The sun was already half way across the sky and Kayn marvelled at how long he had actually slept. But then, it was little wonder after his trek across the forest.
He strolled amongst the peasant mud huts, avoiding the square where he might meet either Tiffany or Titch. He wasn’t sure of what he should do. Maybe he should keep out of the little man’s way for as long as he could, in the hope that his anger might pass.
Time passed slowly and Kayn soon became bored of turning his predicament around in his head. He realised that he was delaying his fate: he would have to meet Titch eventually.
The day grew older and Kayn watched the merchants inside the city wall leave in groups, pulling their carts behind them. He could see though the open doors into the town square, nearly empty now but for a few peasants rummaging through the rubbish in search of food scraps and a few small children running about in the litter. Kayn ventured inside and looked all around him, but of Titch he could see no sign.
When the sun fell low, he felt at a loss and began to wonder whether the little man had done something stupid to harm himself. As he left the square with the last of the peasants, the doors were closed for the night.
Worried, Kayn headed for the hill at once. He walked briskly at first, then broke into a run, away from the hamlet and up the hill, until at last, panting, he reached the glade.
But the glade was empty.
Perhaps Titch and Tiffany had not come up yet.
Standing here again, his head filled with thoughts of Tiffany. He dreaded an encounter with her, fearing that she might step back from him again.
He walked slowly across the empty glade and came to rest at the flat rock where Tiffany had been sitting last night. He sat down and, chin on his hands, waited hopefully for them to arrive, wondering whether they were together now, elsewhere, full of resentment toward him, for what he had done, for coming between them.
At one point, he snapped out of his thoughts and realised that the night had descended upon him without his noticing. The sky was clear tonight and Kayn fell under its spell at once, looking up at the moon, full and bright, and the millions of glowing stars that filled the firmament. He was sure he had never seen a sky as full and beautiful as this one.
When she arrived, Tiffany startled him out of his trance. Kayn didn’t know what to do at first. He started to form an apology when he realised that she was actually smiling at him. He stood up, quickly, his heart racing at her proximity. He noticed that she was breathing fast, as if she had run up the hill with a secret. Briefly, he wondered whether Titch was climbing after her, but realised that she would not have run up the hill and left him behind.
Tiffany sat down on the slab and he sat down next to her, clumsily. She pointed up at the night sky and Kayn looked up, smil
ing, nodding. There were many things that he needed to know. About her, about how she felt about him, and about Titch.
He shuffled a little closer to her and, on impulse, touched her shoulder softly. She turned and smiled at him, warmly. And just then, he loved the way her auburn hair cascaded wildly in ringlets over her shoulders, framing her dark, delicate face. He felt his breath catch, mesmerised by her emerald green eyes. In that moment, not even the moon and the stars could match her beauty.
Looking at her, Kayn felt a flurry of feelings surge through him. He felt anger at the great injustice in the world, at the way in which she had been robed of speech and hearing; he felt despair and fear at the gulf that separated them.
‘I know you can understand me,’ he told her, mouthing the words slowly.
Tiffany watched him curiously and her innocence hurt him, because he was not entirely sure whether she understood exactly what she had been denied by nature.
He threw one arm around her shoulders and hugged her closer to him, feeling curiously protective.
‘I'm sorry,’ he whispered.
When he let go, Tiffany smiled and tilted her head. The simple gesture moved him, and before he realised what he was doing, he was holding her tight in his arms and kissing her.
This time, she returned his kisses, matching his fervour. They sank slowly to their knees and rolled on the grass under the bright crescent moon, exploring each other eagerly. And soon they were making love in the glade, thrusting their hips into each other with growing urgency until their bodies tensed and locked in climax.
When they parted at the bottom of the hill, it was reluctantly. They exchanged a meaningful kiss and then Tiffany was gone and it was as if nothing had ever happened. The loneliness returned to Kayn like a broken promise and he realised then that he had always been filled with it.
Tiffany hurried along the empty streets, a spring in her step, the stranger's passion alive in her mind, his kiss still warm on her lips. Exhilarated, she put on speed without effort. She felt she could run to the edge of the world and back. The stranger had loved and kissed her and life had never felt worth living so fully as it did then.
And then she stopped dead in her tracks and would have screamed if she’d had a voice to scream with.
A huge black shadow fell upon her, blocking her path, full of dark purpose. Something pawed at her from behind, almost knocking her over.
The black mass stepped out into the moonlight and leered at her. It spoke to her silently, grotesquely. It was Fürgos, the village brute.
Fürgos’ dog pawed at her playfully, tongue lolling, muzzle wet. She stroked it but kept her eyes on the hulking man before her, remembering the time when he had set old Janos' barn alight, and also the time when he had beaten a gypsy girl's pony to death with a club. He was crazy, folk said, but all knew that he was worse than that: he was a monster.
For all her deafness, Tiffany could almost hear him think now, face to face with him here in the middle of the night with nobody around. And his thoughts deafened her with their foulness.
Carefully, she made her way around him, letting him tear her clothes off with his evil eyes, not daring to look below his great waist at whatever his filthy thoughts were stirring to life. And then she was past him and she ran, and he and his dog watched her go, bemused.
When she finally reached the hamlet, she was panting with fear. The night had never bothered her before, but now it seemed ominous and threatening after her encounter with the brute. She looked back to make sure nobody was watching her, then she knocked on the door and waited, thinking of her father, the sire. If he ever found out about her outings, his wrath would be mighty and she would have reason to fear him even more than the brute. She shuddered at the thought.
The door opened slightly and a guard peered out though the gap. When he saw her, his expression changed at once. He squeezed himself through the gap, followed by a second guard. Tiffany looked through the gap, eager to be home, but the guard held her arm and slid his hand though her robes to cup her right breast, pushing her gently away from the door as she resisted. And then the second guard came around, smiling, undoing his belt, closing the door behind him.
Neither of the guards noticed that they were being watched from afar.
When Kayn returned to the stables, he found Titch already fast asleep, the candlelight flickering excitedly by his side.
He had intended talking to him, telling him about the way he felt about Tiffany and about the way he thought she felt about him, but now he was reluctant to wake him. It would have to wait until the morning.
Making little noise, Kayn made his way over to his pile of straw and bedded down.
As usual, Titch had his back to him. But the little man was wide awake, listening to the sounds of Kayn’s rhythmic breathing, and to his murmuring. He listened as the sleeping man called Tiffany’s name, over and over, and sobbed with a terrible loss that filled him and brought fresh tears to his eyes, racking his frail and tired body through the rest of the night.
Kayn dreamt he was back in the forest, amongst the gypsies. The old king held in his hands two bloodied bones, and Kayn saw that they were Titch’s legs.
‘It is your destiny,’ the old king said, raising the bones so that Kayn knew that he must hurt Titch deeply, that he must take from him that which he held dearest.
He was the chosen one, and these were the things that he must do unto his master’s old enemies, for the Incantatrix awaited his return, upon whence she would restore his mind so that he may know his true purpose.
20
Middle Ages
The following morning, Kayn caught Titch sneaking out of the stable and managed to stop him.
‘Where did you go yesterday?’ he questioned him.
Titch shrugged indifferently.
‘I had things to attend to,’ he answered unconvincingly.
Kayn eyed him sternly.
‘I was worried about you,’ he said at last.
Titch stared up at him, then lowered his gaze and shrugged again.
‘It’s not your place to worry about me,’ he said flatly. ‘You don’t even know me.’
Kayn was taken aback.
‘I thought we were friends,’ he said.
Titch’s head snapped up and he stared hard at him.
‘So did I!’ he spat, knuckling past him, pushing the stable door open.
‘Wait!’ Kayn called after him. ‘What was that supposed to mean?’
Titch looked back at him, biting his lip hard as Kayn rounder on him. And suddenly, in that moment, Kayn hoped that nothing else would be said. This was all about Tiffany and, in the light of day, he found that he could not bring himself to tell the little man about last night. Not ever. She was Titch’s only friend. She was all he really had.
They stared at each other in silence, both men holding their tongue, as if sensing that harsh truths, once spoken, could not be undone.
Finally, Titch turned and knuckled away slowly. Kayn knew that if he let him go now, he would not see him for the rest of the day, and he did not want to deal with worry and guilt, as he had done the day before. So he set out after him.
As they approached the square, they each wondered at the unusual silence that seemed to have befallen the place. They saw that a crowd had gathered in a wide circle around the great mansion. There were horses at the head of the crowd, mounted by the lord’s men. A feeling of dismay and horror was carried in the subtle whisper of the crowd. Kayn could see the lord’s men, standing in the centre of the circle, as if about to announce something. But they were looking down, and their faces seem to reflect the crowd’s dismay.
With a look of concern, Titch pushed his way beneath the crowd into the front. Kayn reached the knot of people moments later and peered over heads, trying to see ahead.
‘She is dead,’ said one of the lord’s men, looking up at the crowd, and Kayn heard a cry of anguish, rising in the air, a terrible, soul-destroying sound. The cry was unmistakea
ble. It was Titch.
The crowd moaned as one. Kayn pushed forward in a frenzy, desperate to reach the front. The crowd parted under his struggles and he broke through, spilling out into the open, falling on his hands and knees. And there, at the foot of the lord’s horsemen, lay the body of a female, her long hair covering her frozen face, her limbs twisted. Titch howled, holding on to her, rocking her gently in his arms as if that might bring her back, his sorrow washing over the crowd.
Kayn recognised the body at once. It was Titch’s little friend, Eva. A wave of relief washed over him. He felt eerily happy amidst the horror that lay before him and the anguish that rose from the crowd all around him. Even the guilt that arose in him was not enough to dispel his relief.
One of the mounted guards instructed the crowd to break away, to leave the scene. Two other guards dismounted their horses and shoed Titch out of the way before picking the body up between them and carrying it away into the mansion.
Titch was inconsolable. He would not let Kayn speak to him or follow him, knuckling himself away into the dispersing crowd, wailing unconsolably.
Kayn did not try to follow after him. He was best left to grieve on his own. Instead, he retreated back to the square.
Many of the usual traders were absent. Kayn had noticed that they had been dropping in number since the murders had begun. The crowd too seemed less dense than usual, which was not surprising on this particular morning.
He reached the stone where Titch liked to sit, glad that the little man hadn’t come here to grieve. Things had not been the same between them since Kayn’s outburst last night, and after this morning’s horror, he very much doubted that he would be approachable, let alone reasonable.
On some level, Kayn told himself that Titch had brought all this on himself. He reminded himself that Titch had meant him great harm by sending him to the forest from where he had clearly not expected him to return. And all because of Tiffany.
The Man Who Vanishes_a gripping horror thriller spanning 3 timelines_One Man. Everywhere. Page 14