What Ifs and Whatnots

Vermentino sighed as he replaced his pocket watch and placed the thin hand back under the covers. He turned with a heavy heart to his fellow workers.

“Well?” Oswald questioned.

“How is she?” Mrs Hett clenched her hands together in anticipation and Vermentino found it impossible to look into the woman’s eyes. He sighed and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief. Patting his brow gently he unfolded the silk material and cleared his throat.

“She ‘as a few ‘ours left. Ve ‘ave lost ‘er.” Vermentino heard Mrs Hett’s sorowful gasp and Oswald’s pained sigh but he saved his apologetic gaze for a young boy who had been so excited to finally have someone around the castle who was close to his age. Vermentino laid a hand on Luca’s shoulder as the stable boy watched the slow rise and fall of the girl’s chest. “I am sorry Luca. Der is nothing ve can do for ‘er now.” Luca nodded at Vermentino’s words. He knew that the man wouldn’t lie and would have believed the lie even if it had been said.

His eyes travelled over the thing body and he only just noticed the grey pallor that have descended on the fair skin, the small lines of pain that pulled at the corners of her soft, pale lips. Luca braced himself against the tears that were being wrenched from his heart. He had become attached, far too attached, to this girl, their prisoner, and a possible friend. He pressed the hell of his palm hard against his chest where he should have felt his heart beating, but as always there was nothing. He felt Mrs Hett set a tentative hand on his arm and nodded weakly at her suggestion of a nice hot brew, following her out of the room. Oswald sighed as he watched Mrs Hett take Luca away from the extravagant room. He glanced at Vermentino who was slowly washing his hands.

“How long does she have left?” he asked to his fellow servant who shrugged as he gently towelled his hands dry.

“A couple of minutes, a couple of ‘ours. It is difficult to tell.” the man said, glancing back at the girl who had now been in the castle and under their care for sixteen days. The castle had been without a court physician for over five hundred years and Vermentino was using only the knowledge his late father had bestowed upon him and whatever he had picked up from his travels. However, nobody could deny that Vermentino simply had a natural flair for the dreadful task, even if he did complain about how terribly disgusting it all was.

“Well I suppose I had better go and tell the master.” Oswald resigned himself to the fate of possibly having his head ripped off after giving the unfortunate news but and order was an order. Oswald gladly received an amiable pat on the back from Vermentino before he smoothed his hair back and cleared his throat. Walking out with his head held high and an arrogant air about him Oswald planned how he would give his master the message. This had to take some time so he glanced casually at every suit of armour and every hanging tapestry; a surprise check up was after all the best check up a grand vizier could do to make sure the castle was tip top from top to bottom. However, there was only so much time he could take in looking at every single object in the grand hallways of the castle and as he neared his master’s chambers there were less and less ornaments to check and suits of armour to try and see his reflection in.

His arrogant air started to shrink and he had to ignore the voice inside his head telling him to turn around right now and go back to the kitchens where it was safe. He saw the large black door looming above him, the door hadn’t always been black and it was a mystery as to why it had turned black. Oswald clenched his fists to try and get rid of the clamminess in his hands before he knocked gently on his master’s door.

The ash black door swung open silently to reveal obsidian blackness within. Oswald gulped and tried to ignore the malevolent air that came swirling out to greet him, twisting around his body and pulling him over the threshold of the room. He tiptoed past the broken furniture and shredded material that hung ungainly around a lump of wood and material, inwardly he sighed. The poor bed hadn’t stood a chance against his master’s rage. Taking a deep breath and refusing to let the cough that made his eyes burn escape his throat, Oswald walked until he was in the centre of the room facing the ragged daylight that peeked into the room through the large glass doors and bowed low.

“She is no longer a burden to the room?” the question came from within the deep shadows and Oswald knew better than to look around him to try and locate his master.

“N-not quite your Excellency…the girl…she…well that is to say she-”

“SPEAK!”

“She’s dying sir.” Oswald answered softly trying to stop his voice from shaking even though he should have really been focusing on his heart rate. Especially as he felt his master’s black gaze turn on him and felt the fires of hell slowly burning a path to his soul.

“Who is with the girl?” the master demanded in a quiet voice as Oswald tried to stop his body from shaking.

“I…I left Vermentino with her your grace.” he stammered forcing his gaze straight ahead to the bleak weather outside just in case he fell into the fires of hell that those eyes promised. With his gaze stubbornly focused on the boring grey clouds outside, Oswald did not see the malevolent glint amidst the hell fire in his master’s eyes. Nor did he see the cruel twist of his mater’s lips. Oswald felt a disturbance of the air and imagined his master’s impassive face bearing down at him. If there was one thing he found hard to face it was the loss of emotion in his master, while the master had never really been one to express genuine happiness or any other kind of nice emotions, his face had always been animated throughout the day and even when asleep. Even more so first thing in the morning after just one more goblet of wine to send him off to sleep. Now it was either a cold, blank mask or twisted by rage and sometimes Oswald didn’t know which he preferred.

Oswald blinked and missed the sudden movement of his master who was standing far too close for comfort as Oswald’s eyes re-opened. Trying to take deep breaths without his master knowing to calm his erratic pulse Oswald heard the soft snort, if it was of disgust or pleasure at scaring the living daylights out of his servant yet again, Oswald could only breathe and inward sigh of relief as his master swept past him soundlessly walking through the destruction he had created. Counting to ten slowly in his head Oswald’s shoulders slumped and he wiped is forehead with the back of his hands before rubbing them on the back of his trousers and squaring his shoulders. With his head held high he left the room, closed the doors behind him and coughed delicately into his balled fist before striding down the hallway.

Vermentino glanced up as he heard the door open and was surprised to see his master coming towards him. As a good servant he straightened up and watched attentively as his master moved awaiting some orders. Vermentino nodded his head once at the tiny inclination of his master’s head and left the room. The master stood still until he heard to soft click of the door closing and Vermentino’s light footfalls disappear into the silence on the castle. He stepped up to the edge of the bed and glared down at the girl seemingly sleeping so peacefully.

“You really are pathetic aren’t you?” he murmured before extracting one clawed hand from the dark folds of his blood red cloak. He traced the patter of angry purple-yellow bruises on her face that reared up against her deathly pale skin. He loomed over her and sat on the edge of the bed beside her body. He could hear her heart beat, slow, her breath was laboured, it was time. He extended a claw as his hand traced lower over the skin that was slowly losing its tender warmth.

The claw reached out and parted the soft lips as the heel of his hand rested on the girl’s chin. Invading her mouth witch the hard claw the master of the castle slowly clamped his hand over the girl’s nose and mouth.

Downstairs in the kitchen Mrs Hett sat with her arm around Luca as he nursed the steaming cup of tea. Vermentino sat, staring at the fire as Oswald cleaned his pocket watch for the third time. The air was thick with tension broken suddenly by the shrill ringing of a bell. All four jumped and Luca gasped as the scalding liquid spilt over his fingers. While he didn’t actually feel the pain, years of knowing that he should feel the pain made this an automatic response. The ringing stopped and Mrs Hett stood, reaching out for the cloth.

“Go on, best not to keep the master waiting.” she told the three men sensibly who left the kitchen without another word.

Oswald opened the door to the dark bedroom and walked in. The master was standing by the fireplace; five claws glinted wickedly in the light of the flames. His huge bulk blotted out most of the light of the fire casting the room into a dull red glow as the light filtered through the ragged patches of their master’s cloak. The three servants froze as they saw the hood of their master’s cloak thrown back. The master’s head was a rare sight for anyone living in the castle.

“What do you wish sire?” Oswald asked as Vermentino stepped in front of Luca. The boy was staring at the girl who was lying far too still for his liking. With an imperious wave of his hand the master gave his orders. Oswald and Luca watched as Vermentino strode over to the bed and placed a dark, delicate hand on the girl’s forehead and frowned at the deep coldness that penetrated his skin. He reached for the girl’s wrist and held it in his hand for a moment and then bent over her to place his cheek near her mouth. He sat up slowly as his heart sank.

“She is dead.” he said softly, wishing he could not believe his own prognosis. A cold silence fell in the room as Luca stared at past Vermentino to the girl he had tried so hard to save. Oswald glanced at their master who appeared to be completely unaffected by the news. The three servants were as still as the old statues in the garden as the master turned slowly and walked out of the room.

“Bury the body Luca, tonight.”