Ravenwood(12)
“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything to make you comfortable?”
He shook his head slightly, rocking it a bit side to side. His lips and chin were stained with blood, dark red across his face. She wished she had something with which to wipe his face. Reaching down, Elinore tried to find a bit of her dress that wasn’t covered with mud and she dabbed delicately at his chin.
The men made quick work of building a stretcher and in minutes they were ready to move Thistle. Elinore moved out of the way, staying off to the side as they worked. Thistle made an awful keening sound when they moved him onto the stretcher, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. Then, he went suddenly silent. Elinore stepped forward, worried, and Caleb came to her side as the other two men used their belts and some rope to secure him to the stretcher.
“He passed out. From pain or perhaps blood loss. I’ll take you back to the manor while Jonah and Robert take Thistle. They’ll have to go much slower to keep him still.”
Elinore nodded, pulling her wet cloak around her shoulders, shivering in the night. Caleb’s hand came to her back, gently moving her toward his horse. Once again, he boosted her up and she gripped the saddle for purchase. As he set himself behind her, the click of his tongue urging the horse forward seemed loud in her ears. She found comfort in the sturdiness of the horse beneath her and the warmth from Caleb at her side. She wasn’t one for idle chatter and she was grateful this was hardly a situation to require niceties. Caleb seemed just as content as Elinore to ride in silence, the only sound the horses hooves on the soft ground. As Caleb breathed, his exhalations ran across her shoulder and neck - a quick, warm burst of air that disappeared and turned cold each time he inhaled. The moon cast a grey-silver glow on the trees and Elinore could easily imagine how anyone finding themself out late at night would think it the work of fairies. Or perhaps something else.
She was so focused on the forest surrounding them that it took her a moment to realize Caleb had stopped. She looked first to him and then to where his gaze was directed in front of them. Ahead on the path, a large iron gate loomed, surrounded by a low stone wall. Up high on the ironwork were small blurs of shape. As she squinted in the darkness, Elinore realized what they were. Birds. Ravens.
“Ravenwood,” Caleb said, his voice gruff and deep.
He clicked his tongue again and the horse started forward. Caleb slid off the horse and pushed at the iron gates, the hinges giving a low groan in protestation as they swung open, slowly, burdened by their weight. Elinore clutched at the saddle, finding her balance not as steady without Caleb behind her. He didn’t mount again, instead coming to the front of the horse and taking the reins, leading them up the path. Looking ahead, into the darkness, all Elinore could make out of the house was a shape - dark, large, looming. Flickering lights hovered in what where presumably the windows, but from this distance Elinore couldn’t be sure if it was lights that she saw, or ghostly spirits lingering around the manor. She’d perhaps always had too fanciful a soul and as she stood there, transfixed by the estate in front of her, she suddenly wished she hadn’t read so many Penny Dreadfuls. She’d always been drawn to them because they seemed to echo the strange and unusual thoughts that were already living in her mind, but now they turned her mind against her. Stories and thoughts of creatures, of dark shadows creeping across the floor, of sounds in the woodwork, of prophecies and lore, raced in her brain. Ravenwood seemed as though it was from another realm - only coming into this reality on a night like tonight - foggy, stormy and with a full moon. Elinore could hear her mother’s voice in her ears, blaming Elinore’s nightmares on the types of things she chose to read, but Elinore knew the truth - those things were already there, creeping in Elinore’s skull, waiting to be let out.
The manor looked stark and cold. Even from the distance, Elinore found it austere and barren. No greenery surrounded the entrances; the trees that should have sprung up along the sides had long since been cut back. Though the light of the moon was strong, the manor seemed to suck it from the air, like juice from a sweet fruit, turning the building dark and hollow.
The entrance was dominated by a set of large double doors with a crest on each one. Elinore could make out the shape of more ravens, similar to those on the iron gates. It was too dark for her to read the family motto and her Latin left much to be desired anyway - much to the dismay of her late father who had forever tried to teach her.
As they approached the door, it opened, silently and smoothly, leaving the doorway dark and empty. Elinore had a notion the house itself had commanded the door open. Then, out of the depths came an older woman, the housekeeper no doubt, bearing a lamp held aloft in her white-knuckled fingers. Caleb stepped close to the horse, his arms reaching out for Elinore and she slid off the saddle, a jolt of pain shooting through her arm when her feet hit the ground. They made their way up the steps, Caleb’s hand on her elbow.
“You’ve returned so soon,” the housekeeper said, her voice somewhat roughened with age.
“Has my uncle returned?”
The housekeeper shook her head, eyes moving over Elinore in slight question. Caleb nodded once at her answer, as if expecting the news. “This is Miss Reed, expected with Thistle from Haleton. They had an accident on the way back from the train station and their carriage was overturned. Jonah and Robert are on their way with Thistle. He’s been badly injured. Paul’s gone to fetch the doctor.” He paused for a moment and Elinore felt his hand tighten briefly on her elbow. “Miss Reed was bitten.”