121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ937hlRZKSQ
"The Holly and the Ivy
When they are full grown
Of all the trees in the wood
The holly bears the crown
The rising of the sun."
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjq20THlGhR
My plaintive voice rang against the stone walls of my turret bed chamber. I knelt before the roaring fire and prodded the logs with the iron poker. Sparks flew up the smoke-darkened chimney as I sat before it. The leaping flames transfixed me.
Alone on Christmas Eve, I hovered close to the fire's warmth. The rest of the room remained chilled against the Romanian winter. I wrapped my woolen shawl around my shoulders and gripped it at the neck. I had not seen Mama since the night of our attempted escape.
The bolted door kept me the Baron's prisoner. Other than Mrs. Balan, I never saw another soul. She entered with nourishment twice a day and left with the chamber pot. Stale bread and lukewarm water made my daily meals. The fire provided the only comfort.
Once, I caught a glimpse of Helga hovering behind her grandmother. She attempted to enter my chamber. However, the housekeeper forced her back and closed the door in her face. I would have enjoyed the little maid's companionship. My solitary confinement wracked my nerves.
I thought of cold winter evenings in the vicarage parlor and skating parties on the mill pond. Mama served hot mulled cider and warm gingerbread for the young skaters. Near the edge of the pond, a bonfire blazed. I closed my eyes, and the fireplace transformed into a roaring bonfire. It warmed my soul.
As though in a trance, I rose and rummaged in the highboy for a black stocking. I hung it from the mantlepiece. It cast a limp shadow against the hearth. Inside my broken heart, I hoped Mama would appear to fill it during the overnight hours. Shining like a golden beacon from the past, our Christmas tree angel sat at the center of the chimneypiece. Clasping my hands tightly together, I knelt and prayed for a miracle.
"So close," I muttered to the still room. "So very close."
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGrNXtL7hgr
******
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj3tT462as6
Night fell, and we continued to wait for the coachman. Encouragingly, I urged Mama to hold on until his arrival. The tall tower clock hovered at five minutes to midnight. Straining my ears, I listened for the clop-clop of horses' hooves. Mist enveloped the courtyard as we lingered. I hugged myself tightly and paced before the iron gate.
Helga stood in the doorway, pressed against Mrs. Balan's side. The housekeeper's steely grey eyes seemed to cut into my flesh. I threw an ominous look in her direction, and hers challenged me in return.
Mama rose and stood in the midst of the courtyard. A solitary soul—she hugged herself tightly against the cold night. A heavy black cloak concealed her gaunt figure. Gray wisps escaped her black poke bonnet. Pity for her rose in my heart. Crossing my fingers tightly, I urged the appearance of the one-eyed coachman.
For a moment, the pale full moon peeked through the mist. The form of a black bat rose and hovered on its surface. Bats swarmed from the naked trees. Their wings beat a hellish staccato as they swooped into the castle's precincts. Throwing my arms over my head, I ducked as they assaulted me. Then, they returned to perch in the dead tree branches.
"Mama!" I screamed, fearing she had sustained an injury. However, when I looked in her direction, Baron von Helfin stood protectively by her side. His deathly white hand clamped possessively on her shoulder.
"Take your hand off of her," I demanded, briskly stepping toward him.
Behind hooded eyes, von Helfin glared at me ominously. Defiantly, I balled my fists and rushed him. I intended to pummel him in the chest, to release my pent-up fury. However, as I swooped upon him, Ranulf materialized from the fog and blocked my way. The Baron's ward gripped me tightly above the elbows.
I struggled against my captor, but his grip tightened. I could not release myself. Looming above me, Ranulf bent me backward. The pins holding my chignon loosened, and my long brown hair tumbled freely. His hand raked my tresses, and he cupped my chin. A sudden tenderness leaped into his sanguine eyes. Gasping, I stood transfixed beneath his glare. Then, with a brisk head shake, I yanked myself out of my trance. Pulling my foot back swiftly, I drove my booted toe into his shin.
The Baron's nephew released me momentarily. I danced backward rapidly but could not evade him. His sharp fingernails cut deeply into my flesh, and his lips lifted in a snarl. The slight parting of his mouth produced his canine teeth's spikey points. Ominously, he leaned toward my straining neck.
"Ranulf!" Nicolai von Helfin barked tersely. "Not now!"
"If not now, when, Uncle?" the Baron's ward countered. His grip tightened. I stared into his anguished face.
"When she is ready. When she is compliant to our wishes."
"Compliant?" I sputtered, straining for release. "I will never comply with your evil wishes."
Forcefully, the Baron shoved Ranulf out of his way. The young man lay sprawled against the wrought iron gate. Picking himself up, he slunk into the darkness. The mist encased him, and his curt footsteps echoed on the cobblestones.
I turned my frightened eyes toward my mother's menacing husband. His black hair glistened in the moon glow. His pale expression hardened, and his red pupils narrowed to pinpricks. He leaned his tall form above me and pressed his face close to mine. I caught a whiff of his overly sweet metallic breath. Cringing, I stepped backward. He swiftly followed my movement.
"Who are you?" I defiantly shot out. "What are you?"
"I am your stepfather, your mother's husband," Baron von Helfin responded, clipping his words. "You will obey me."
"NO!" I shouted, my voice reverberating around the mist-filled courtyard. "My father lies dead in Grey Friar's churchyard. He was an honorable man, a parish vicar. You are no father to me. I wish to return to England immediately. Set my mother and me free."
The Baron's icy hand slammed against my cheek, sending me reeling onto the flagstone. My body connected with the ground and skidded to a halt. Stunned, I sat up and, wrapping my arms around my injured body, swayed back and forth.
Von Helfin hovered above me. His long, slim reached for me. Using my feet, I propelled my body backward and evaded his grip. Steadily my lips began to form The Lord's Prayer.
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtaXXJmbO6C
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done;
on earth as it is…
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgXkwoShVCs
An unearthly hiss escaped the Baron's leering mouth, followed by ululating screams. He seemed to shrink before my eyes.
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKPoXmxSvx9
…in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil…
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM19KkIK0mo
I continued, the words quickly falling from my lips. I noticed Mama standing immobile with her back against the stone wall. For a moment, I believed she would intervene. Instead, she shrank further into the stonework.
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZcqPeQ2IwH
For thine is the kingdom,
the power and the glory,
forever and ever.
Amen.
As I muttered the final holy word, the Baron enfolded himself in his black opera cape. Then, the silk fell into a pile on the pavement. Astonished, I stared at the black fabric pool. Mama stepped forward and knelt. Her stark expression gripped me with fear. Silently, tears slid down her sallow cheeks.
"Mama," I exclaimed, squatting beside her. I could not believe she loved von Helfin. In my view, he represented the epitome of all evil.
Then, the opera cape began to shift. It lifted and fell, lifted and fell. Slowly, it rose, and a bat escaped its confines. The fierce mammal beat its wings into my face, its sharp teeth gnashing toward my neck. Utilizing all my strength, I swatted it away. Spiraling, it crashed into the iron gate and flew upward.
Silence fell in the courtyard, minutes ticking away. Falling to my knees, I crawled toward my prostrate mother.
"Norah," Mama murmured, collapsing into my embrace.
"Godoired!" Nicolai von Helfin's voice cut through the mist.
Astonishingly, the Baron's deaf henchman appeared. Haphazardly, he lurched into the open and gazed skyward at his master.
"Take her away!" von Helfin's menacing finger pointed in my direction.
Godoired Cazacu ambled in my direction. His muscular arms encircled my shoulders. With the ease of a strongman, he lifted me and carried me into the turret. I fiercely beat upon his back with my tiny fists as we ascended the circular stone stairway.
Unceremoniously, I felt my body drop onto my bed. Then, the door swung shut, and the bolt fell into place. The realization of becoming the Baron's prisoner stunned me.
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRw15aajou0
******
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaqbV3i1aR3
As sharp as any thorn
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
On Christmas Day in the morn
The rising of the sun
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡatvTcW6mqP
I continued to sing my father's favorite Christmas carol. Tears formed in my sorrowful eyes. Ignoring them, I kept up my hollow chant. Momentarily, I stood in the church choir box. The village children surrounded me, their cherry-cheeked faces raised in song. Stepping forward, eight-year-old Hammond Billingsby disengaged himself from the group. He rendered his solo in a bright clear voice. Steadily it rose above the snow-covered ground, calling faithful worshippers to the holiday service.
Prentiss Wills conducted the choir from the pulpit. A wrist flick caused his slender baton to rise and fall rhythmically. Mama and Papa stood outside on the porch. Smiling, they welcomed each parishioner and wished them a Happy Christmas.
Hammond stepped back into his place, and the children's sweet voices rejoined him. I pressed my shoulder against Mary Wilson and gripped Amity Bradshaw's palm. Our heads turned toward each other, and we grinned. Although I reminisced about Amity occasionally, thoughts of Mary never crossed my mind. I absently wondered about my other best friend.
Poor Mary Wilson—the gamekeeper's daughter. Mary did not have the advantage of being either the squire's or the vicar's daughter. She arrived at school wearing faded gingham dresses and scuffed shoes. Her drab, colorless hair hung in two uneven plaits, and she wore a lopsided smile. At first, Amity chided her about her lack of clothing. However, I took pity on her and became her friend. After a while, Amity accepted her companionship also.
I prodded a log in the fire and chided myself for forgetting Mary. In my mind, I wished her a Happy Christmas and prayed I would see her soon. On the morrow, Amity and Mary would stand side-by-side in the choir box. They would grin at each other, and perhaps miss my presence. Never would my two best friends suspect I lay a prisoner in von Helfin castle.
Unhappily, I continued to sing as the fire crackled and my stocking hung limply from the mantlepiece.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
