Page 122 of Long Live the King
She climbed the steps while I waited, looking up and down the empty street. Someone walked by at the far end, but continued on. As she pushed the doorbell, I heard the faint sound of it ringing inside the building.
I glanced over m’shoulder, she was peering in the glass window.
She sounded the bell again.
Her whisper, “Tis empty.”
I nodded, chewin’ my lip, mulling it over. Then I rushed up the stair, drawin’ my dirk, pushed past her, and punched the window with the hilt, shatterin’ the glass.
She furiously whispered, “Lochinvar!”
I glanced up and down the street, and dinna see any lights come on.
Usin’ the hilt, I broke out the last jagged pieces of glass, then reached inside and fumbled at the doorknob. I unlocked the deadbolt above it, and nodded at Lady Mairead. “Done.”
Wearin’ pale white gloves, she turned the front knob and pushed the door open. We both snuck through the doorway andshe closed it behind us, wipin’ the interior handles and locks of my fingerprints.
It was verra dark inside, and clear that nae one was inhabiting the place. I walked down the main hallway, there were two doors tae the right. The first was empty but for a desk and chair that I could make out by the exterior streetlamp. The second was completely empty, I had tae walk in, allow my eyes tae adjust. Nothing.
I found a small room at the end of the hall that was also empty, meanwhile I heard the creaking on the stair of Lady Mairead climbing tae the second floor.
I returned tae the front room, the desk was lit from the street enough tae see twas barren except for an ashtray with a pile of cigarette butts inside. I pulled out the only drawer, seeing it was empty. Then I looked around and noticed a large dark stain upon the floor. I crouched beside it and touched it. Twas dry, difficult tae discern, but it had a look of blood — och nae.
I returned tae the foyer and climbed the steps following Lady Mairead.
She was in a front room with a small bedside lamp turned on, dimly illuminating an unused bedroom. The bed had nae bedding, everything looked as if it had been closed for a long time. She wiped her glove through the dust on the table, and put the fingertip in the light tae show me, twas yellow. She whispered, “They were smokers.”
I said, “Did ye notice the blood downstairs?”
She looked shocked. “...where?”
“Beside the desk, dost ye think tis Ash?”
A momentary fear crossed her face, but she said, “Nae, it canna be her, I daena see any sign of her ever bein’ here. This has been an office, tis all.” She opened the closet door and bent over, looking inside. She pulled out a bottle and held it up, then went over tae the lamp for a closer look.
I looked over her shoulder. The label had a Tree of Life design on it.
She passed the bottle tae me and then went around looking in drawers. She found an ashtray inside a drawer with three cigarette butts in it, she placed them inside an envelope and stuffed it in her bag. Then declared, “This is all I can find. Nae sign of the maiden, we will hae tae look elsewhere.”
She clicked off the lamp and we climbed down the stairs, making it tae the hall just inside the front door, when there was a loud banging knock. “Hello! This is the police! Anyone home?”
Lady Mairead and I ducked intae the front room and pressed up against the wall just inside the door.
The police officers shoved the door open and with flashlight beams, swinging around the hallway, they entered the house. Their steps were heavy, they neared the room we were in and looked in, swinging the beam of light around. We pressed closer tae the wall.
They moved farther down the hallway toward the back rooms.
From the corner of m’eye I noticed Lady Mairead’s movement, she was pulling a vessel from her bag. She put her hand on my arm and tapped, one, two... three. She rushed from the room and I followed — we ran behind the men, makin’ it tae the front door as they called, “Stop...!”
We raced out the doorway, barreling down the steps tae the street, while Lady Mairead yelled, “Grab my arm!”
She was twistin’ the vessel. I could feel the wind rise, and reached forward, clamping my hand tae her arm, mid-sprint, as the storm grew around us. I raised m’other arm tae protect m’eyes, and realized I was still clutchin’ the beer bottle in my hand.
CHAPTER 49 - ASH
MAY 22, 1296 IN FORTINGALL
Iwas having a dream.
