A Parish Darker: A Victorian Suspense Novella Read Free Page B

only to serve only as audience to my rambling!” Baron Lechner von Savanberg patted my shoulder and led me back toward the entrance of the library with haste.
     
    The relief came through in my voice, though it was not my intention. “Thank you, Baron, for all your hospitality. This is a visit I shall not forget.”
     
    “Come, dear boy. Tomorrow, we shall finish our tour and conduct our business. Sleep and a good meal are most important—true requisites of fine health. While under my watch, you shall receive only the best of both.”
     

CHAPTER IV
     
     
    My mind had seldom felt the fatigue of that first night at Castle Savanberg. The long travel had taken a physical and mental toll unlike any other, leaving me only the desire to sleep once the Baron escorted me back to my room. I gave no thought to drawing the curtains by the windows to shield from the moonlight, instead feeling some solace in its company as thunder ravaged the sky in brief but furious discharges. Flashes of lightning seemed inevitable given the circumstances.
     
    Recollections are all I have of what then transpired that night. I recall quickly shuffling into my nightclothes and falling onto the bed in exhaustion. The quilt under which I slept was comfortable—made of thick, breathing wool—and the bed sizable and accommodating.
     
    Some are known to confuse their dreams with reality, unable to separate that which occurs in sleep with the oft-chaotic happenings of waking hours. For one single moment that night, I feared I had become one of them, but soon realized my eyes and mind were not there to deceive but instead alert.
     
    In the night, I found myself in that haphazard state between existence and reverie. I had not been asleep for long when I felt a presence near me… over me… with me.
     
    Paralyzed, I remained still. I remain unconvinced that even breathing took place in those early moments. The presence, taking the form of a dark silhouette, stared down onto the bed. As my eyes began to adjust to the black of night, the situation became direr in my mind’s eye than initially thought.
     
    It was the double-handed axe by the side of the figure that soon became the most apparent fixture in the dark room. The gleaning of the long, well-worn blade halted me into submission. Helpless and hopeless, I stared on in terrified disbelief.
     
    After observing me in that pale darkness momentarily, it was then that a most unusual maneuver came to be: I was soon not alone, as I viewed from my peripheral vision the figure joining me by sitting on the edge of the bed. I remained lying on my side, watching carefully without making even the slightest movement.
     
    An eternity of uncertainty followed. The axe found its way onto the bed, with the dull side pressing against my chest. Moonlight pierced through the windows, leading to a gleaning on the blade.
     
    As I waited to decide my next move, in the many minutes of silence, it was only when a hand was firmly placed on my shoulder that I took action. When the grip fastened and the figure leaned over me, I shot up onto the bed, placing my back against the headboard in a defensive position.
     
    “Oh, Edwin, I did not mean to startle you!”
     
    “Baron!” I exclaimed, catching my breath. “What are you doing here? What’s going on? It’s the middle of the night!”
     
    The Baron patted my shoulder, saying, “I came to check on your well-being. You see, bands of gypsies occasionally find their way onto these grounds. On more than one occasion, they have found their way into the premises, likely in search of food and whatever they may sell. I thought I heard one of them rummaging in the house and felt it best to check on my dear guest first of all. From experience, when they see a weapon like my old firewood axe here they tend to take to their heels.”
     
    Relieved, I sighed and waved concern from my host. “It is all well, Baron. I was just startled for a moment.”
     
    “Dear boy,