*
The woods were quiet as the three of them made their way along the winding road that took them to Kreeth’s estate. Maerillus was alert to every little noise that emerged from the surrounding woods. A slight breeze blew, and naked limbs brushed against one another like dry bones moving silently across the grave of the night.
Maerillus shivered. Davin asked his question again, pulling Maerillus back into the present conversation. “You’re sure Kreeth’s servants don’t live in the manor?”
“Yes. That’s been said a number of times by different people. Even Dad’s talked about how he’s too suspicious of the people working for him to let them live inside his home.”
“For good reason,” Niam quipped dryly. “What with all the things he does in it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to live in that place, even if Kreeth weren’t what he is,” Maerillus said darkly.
Everyone knew its reputation.
Parents told stories about the property to scare children away from it. People thought the estate was cursed. Joachim said that many workers died building the thing. While the place was smaller than his own family’s home by half, Kreeth’s manor was still large. A number of owners had held the thing over the past century, and tragedy accompanied whoever lived there. Its first owner disappeared mysteriously after killing his entire family. A servant found the man’s wife and children decapitated and their heads hanging from a chandelier. The next owner had been the son of a duke from one of the countries across the channel. Rumors still lingered that the man had been caught mutilating his lovers after chaining them up in the basement of one of his father’s homes. The scandal nearly ruined the duke, who had his son castrated and exiled for his crimes. For decades he lived as a recluse. A tax collector from the mayor’s office found him one day hanging from the end of a rope tied to the railing atop the large curved staircase that dominating the manor’s entrance.
After that, people did not remain long in the house. Uneasy servants had spoken about strange noises echoing throughout the manor, of shadows cast by objects that were not there, and of dark, indistinct shapes moving just beyond their range of vision. Maerillus always considered these rumors as the product of overactive imaginations at best, or more often than not, as superstitions that the less educated clung to.
Now that Maerillus has seen more strange things since the beginning of autumn than most people heard about in their lifetimes, he had a fresher perspective on these sorts of tales.
“As long as the morning staff leaves to do their errands in town at sunrise, we ought to have a much better chance of getting in,” Davin said.
“They will,” Maerillus told them for the third time. “Kreeth keeps them out of the house after midday if he is there. Our staff talks about them all the time. Once they’re done inside, he has them tend to the grounds. Their cabins are behind the house where the kitchen is. None of them are permitted inside after dark. They’re terrified of him.”
“I’m counting on what you’ve said.”
“What if he’s expecting something to happen while he’s gone?” Maerillus asked darkly.
Davin kicked a stick on the ground absently as they walked. “I’m hoping he’ll have his guard down a bit because everyone knows Kine left with Joachim.”
“That’s a big if,” The skepticism in Maer’s voice was all too apparent.
“I know,” Davin said. “I know.”
Before too long, Davin took them off the main road to approach Kreeth’s estate from the forest where they would have less chance of being spotted. Kreeth may have been away, but Davin was certain he had people on the lookout.
“How can you be certain one of those tralls isn’t roaming around in the woods? Maerillus worried.
“I can’t be totally certain about anything,” Davin told him honestly. “A trall this close to town would be a dead giveaway to a Wizard’s Hammer snooping around.”
“I hope you’re right about the trall,” Maerillus nearly groaned.
Davin gave him the biggest cheesy smile he could manage. “If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize.”
“That makes me feel better,” Maerillus grumbled.
The Dread Lords Rising Page 44