Burial of hearts the black widow's malice Read online

  Parting company with Camerine, I lifted the cart, resting it upon my shoulder as I pulled it back over to the slaughterhouse.

  It took me several journeys to get all the items I had bought back into my room; the landlord must have thought I was attempting a record for the most annoying tenant, as I dropped my items, thudding repetitively upon the floorboards.

  I placed my newly bought items in their rightful homes; my garments in the wardrobe, changing the covers on my bed as well as the curtains and placing the rug before the bed. On my desk, I rested the new ornaments, moving the books into the topmost draw. My room for now, looked a little bit more ladylike; no longer just a dingy, sweaty castoff; now a respectable stronghold of delicate indulgence.

  It was now evening. I had lit one of the candles, keeping it a safe distance away from anything flammable. The light from the candle was calming, dulling out the sound of traders as they shut down for the day. Looking out from my window (from a safe distance) I could see the moonlit floor of the marketplace, reflecting upon the water workers had used to clean up. The odd person passed by, sometimes chased by cats, trying to get the left over fish that had become too mouldy for human consumption; their fur festering with fleas they had to be batted away, but still persistent, they never gave up.

  Gradually closing in, I could hear the shouting of two men arguing over a woman that one had been won in a bet. They caught the attention of the nearby guards, who watched eagerly, ready to stop any violent clashes that may occur.

  “I won her, end of. Now get out of my way, I want to collect my prize”.

  “No, you cheated, I saw it; there is no way you could have won; you will not have my girlfriend as your own”.

  “I think you will find, I will”.

  The supposed victor leapt out violently smashing his fist into the other’s face; knocking him down senseless, only to have himself brutality attacked by the waiting guards. It was somehow amusing watching the lifeless body of one of them being dragged away, as the other screamed like as a girl, about to be punished for not doing her chores.

  A stream of dragonflies flew above the central seats, a man amongst them, sat down reciting his poetry loudly for all to hear:

  “A smile wished upon the lips of many, brought down only to be adored by one. Their eyes did meet in a place of serene beauty; paradise drawn out from within.

  Deaf to their ears, words of evil were spoken. But they held strong, their love had no tongue for ruin, only a hand in marriage is what they saw. Their bodies moulded tight with each moment; a closeness that none could depart.

  Their day came, their moment of unity, the matrimony of two as one. Below the silhouette of eternity, they took their faithful vows, for all that could see. Objections were offered, but none were taken, now this time they became free.

  The sun bowing down in glory, as our lips did meet; the stars granting their merciful gaze, as they jumped to the songs of a paradise that governed within.

  Seated we spoke; deep enchanted whispers bled passion that we relished, harnessed by your splendour and guarded with my grace. Again, no more shall our tread leave paths from another, truth always shall be given, now the past we have both forgiven, a chance for rebirth, a chance to start again”.

  With those words spoken, guards again came forth demanding that he stops under the command of Hecate. He only had the choice to oblige, otherwise facing consequences that the mind could not bear to think upon. Another voice with words as beautiful as the tears of joy of a child’s birth, had been quashed by the fearsome rule of a few.

  Chapter 6

  I awoke, the start of a delightful new job. Avis, the maid to the merciless. I got myself out of my bed. It was still dark but the light from the candle was sufficient.

  I had forgotten the night before to eat the food I had bought for supper; must have been all the hassle I had got myself involved in. Still in my nightgown, I walked out from my room and down to the kitchen.

  Fredrom had agreed to allow me to use the available facilities to prepare food; although in hindsight, it was his duty as a landlord anyway.

  Lighting a stove, I placed the uncooked hognobbles into a well-used metal pan; the sides of which had corroded away, so much so that sharp edged holes had formed. The fat from the bacon began to melt, sizzling away in the pan, as the potatoes cooked, steadily softening. I rummaged through the available crockery and took out the cleanest plate available then sliced a small piece of my pie, placing it on the outer edge.

  I was not too keen on cooking food such as bacon, I often managed to get a burn mark, or two from the fat spitting from the pan and today was no exception.

  After the bacon had cooked to a crunch, I poured the hognobbles onto my plate; the smell of comfort food in the morning was always a pleasure. I ate them where I had cooked, not needing the relief of my bed to sit on after a restful night’s sleep.

  Discarding my pots, I went back up to my room and selected a strong black garment; no frills or any other fancy embellishments were upon it; it was made for working and that is exactly what I was planning on doing today.

  I had a short bath; the time was ticking down and I needed to ensure I was ready and dressed for maid service.

  The clothing was a little on the tight side, but I kept it on none the less, hoping that through all the work I was to do today it may perhaps stretch and loosen the material, even if only by a morsel.

  I brushed my hair aback, snapping off any folded hairs in the process. Today I was going to have a professional decorum about me, even if I had to snap off every individual hair upon my body.

  It was sunrise; I made my way outside; Camerine was walking over, with seeing me a smile crossed his face; I had not let him down.

  “Good morning Avis, glad to see you are awake. Now, I will take you to Mr Bullwort’s house, I have already delivered the tools you may need. Remember to greet him with a smiling face and always be polite”.

  Walking through the city, we eventually reached the area reserved solely for upper class citizens. The paths here were patterned; each stone perfectly lining up with the next; the border of the paths partook in a medley of different mosaics, made by an artist of the highest stature. There were well cared for plants outside each of the households; a few persons had even brought their gardeners out in force at this early hour. The houses themselves were unlike that of the central city; care had gone into the construction; most made from limestone that seemed to radiate extravagance in the morning sunrise. The windows were framed with dark oak wood, free from any unwelcome dust, or the webs of spiders.

  Mr Bullwort’s house was further up the snaking path. It was lavishly decorated. The limestone was broken up by solid oak beams; the door to the house was rounded atop with a small stain glass window for decoration. I walked up through the stately gates and looked at the garden, which had two statues of eagles at either side; the plinths of which were made of granite. A few lanterns were hanging firmly from the canopy above, ready to be lit as the night sky drew in.

  I knocked upon the door, three knocks only so as not to seem impatient to the Mr Bullwort. He opened the door; he was a plump man; some of the buttons on his shirt had popped open revealing a hairy gut. Humorously he seemed to be wearing a toupée; as he moved it began to slip in whichever way he leant.

  “You must be the new maid?”.

  “Yes Mr Bullwort, that I am; how may today I help you with your gracious household?”.

  “Please, call me Tenro; I am not interested in all that class nonsense; and whom may you be?”.

  “I am Avis; glad to hear you are kind hearted, Mr… sorry, Tenro”.

  “Thank you; I am merely a fair person; I was once poor and I worked my way up to what I am now. I believe anyone can become anything they like, if they put in enough work… and know the right people of course. So Avis, today I will just need you to have a quick clean of my home; the wife, or dragon as I liked to call her recently passed away, leaving me with these new errands.
Everything you need is in the storage room to the rear; if you need me I will be eating some apple pie that I… had to make”.

  Entering his home, I walked alongside an outstanding stairwell, the railings of which were a darkened mahogany, with outlines of lions flanked upon either side. The floor of the lower half of the home, was a simple but elegant white and grey stone. Even the storage room had a certain grandeur about it; following suit from the rest of the house.

  I gathered a few cleaning items; a mop, made from the absorbent fruit of the pelkan flower, some flannels to wipe with and a small pot which was readily filled from the city spring. Let the onslaught begin.

  Passing through each room I gave them a thorough clean; initially with the flannels, washing down any surfaces and removing all grease and muck that had gathered into small colonies. I then collected any rubbish that had been thrown upon the floor; ensuring I cleansed every nook I could.

  The living room was the most striking of all the rooms in the house. Enormous framed paintings were aback of this room, with three chandeliers suspended above; the light of the candles sparkling upon the crystal pieces. There was a large marble fireplace, at least my height in width; with a golden urn placed atop. A table was in the centre of the room, it had glass upon the top of it; rarely did I have the privilege to see something of this class; the first time I had seen a table such as this, I had thought it was a work of magick, by a great wizard.

  “Will there be anything else you require from me today Tenro?”.

  “No… that will be perfectly fine thank you. I will have more work for you tomorrow though”. He said as he gorged down a still warm apple pie.

  I left the house in good spirits. A few hours had passed and my arms were somewhat sore from the repetitive cleansing of priceless ornaments. Creeping up the hill, like a nosey neighbour, the houses got slowly larger, until reaching the topmost; I was presented with a home with proportions that would put a castle to shame. Several guards were stood affront of the gates to this home, their eyes following my every movement.

  “And whom may you be and what business do you have here?”. One of them said approaching me. His eyes closed a little, revealing the starting point of a sinister glare.

  “Sorry, I was merely having a look at the homes in this area; I have just finished working for Mr Bullwort; I am his new maid”.

  “Well, unless you have business with Hecate, stay away from this area; it is off limits, reserved only for official business; if we catch you here again we will not be so light hearted, understand?”.

  “Yes, sorry”. I said, my voice croaking.

  I turned around quickly and headed back down to the centre of the city. After being in such a tasteful area I was now even more repelled by the shambles that was presented before me.

  Camerine was passing by, holding onto a crate of wine when he spotted me.

  “Avis, so how did your first day go? You are not deceased, so I am assuming it went… at least ok?”.

  “Well... we are now on first name terms, so I suppose my face has some rewards. He has asked me to return tomorrow for some more work he wants me to do for him”.

  “Brilliant, it now looks like we have him as a permanent client of ours; thank you for the hard work. Here is a wild idea; would you care to join me and my family today? We have arranged a get-together later; we need to get prepared though, there are quite a number of people coming”.

  “That would be delightful, thank you; have you got everything you need?”.

  “We have all we need back home, I am quite organised as you will learn. Could you help me carry this crate at all? It is a little heavy for just one person”.

  Camerine lowered the crate of wine to the floor. We each cupped our hands around the smooth-edged metal handles, lifting it with a small pant in our breaths. Dodging between the crowds in the centre of the city, we walked towards his home, which was placed snuggly behind the university.

  The house was small, at least for a business owner; snug I suppose would be more suiting. There was a family room, with several large wicker chairs covered in cushions to give comfort. In the corner of the room was a wooden cabinet, it reached up as high as the room, each shelve with paintings of the members of the family.

  “This is my son and my wife”. I nodded gracefully with a smile, as though bowing to a future monarch.

  “Well, we better had get all the preparations ready, it will not be long until all the guests arrive”.

  “How are you going to fit everyone in here? It is not exactly the key location for a hefty crowd; no offence”.

  Laughing, he ushered me to follow him into the kitchen. I was greeted by the family pet; a small dog, the fur of which was a golden, but greying a touch through age. His eyes lit up as if eager for attention. I will not be touching that thing, I thought to myself, grasping onto my alliance with cats. If as though reading my thoughts, Camerine lifted it up, offering me a reception of drool coated pleasures, the remnants of dinner were unfortunately still present.

  “This is Monty, he is harmless unless you have some chicken that is, then he will nibble your arm off”.

  “I see… well I do not have any chicken, so I hope I will not get devoured today… ”. I said as I wiped off the slushed up food he had fondly smeared across my face. Thankfully, he placed Monty back down, no more unusually scented baths for today.

  Walking over to the drawers, he picked up a set of keys, rattling them as he placed them in his pocket.

  “Right Avis, how are you with cooking? We need to make enough food for all of the guests”.

  He pulled out a piece of parchment; written upon it was a list of items to cook, along with a rough set of recipes; almond pudding, spinach tart, stewed capon, skewered beef, barley bread, as well as a selection of cakes and biscuits.

  We started with the cakes, bread and biscuits. I carefully listened as he instructed me on his age-old ways of baking. Luckily, he was on hand to help, I was never too keen on bread making, always having a tendency to create a perfect looking loaf on the outside, but within it was raw.

  The biscuits we made were quite the treat, using lemons to flavour them, which was a rarity for a middle class family. You could see the faces of the family, eager to have a small sample of the food, but Camerine warded them off, managing them as he did his maids.

  It was not long until the first batch of food was cooked and plated up, placed wherever a spare patch could be found within the house; whether it was atop of a bookshelf or even within the bathtub.

  A good few hours had passed and we were still baking; the food was piling up almost as if to the sky, and there were no more spaces left.

  “Camerine, where exactly are the guests going to sit with this amount of food looming in every corner of your home?”.

  He looked at me. I could see a mystery brewing in his eyes, a secret kept away for safety, about to be revealed to me.

  “Follow me”. He said all the while trying to pull out the keys that had become intertwined with a thread from his trousers.

  Placing down a tray of ready to cook tarts, he kneeled upon the floor and lifted a latched opening. I suppose we are going to store the food in a cellar? Together we walked down the small stairway, the air was musky and I could only use the sides to guide me in the pitch black. Coming to the bottom of the stairs Camerine turned to me, his eyes the only noticeable feature, lit up a slight from the light above.

  “I have only just met you Avis, but I trust in that what I will show you will remain locked within your mind and not spoken of to others?”.

  I gestured a confirmation upon him, ushering him to show me what was so special about this cellar of his. He turned back and unlocked the door, opening it in one rapid sweep; the air changed from the musky smell of before to a smell like unto springtime.

  Before me was another world; a world within a world; there were hills of greenery, flowers, plants and trees of every kind, growing beautifully throughout. The ceiling was held up by
five great trees, four upon the corners, the greatest being at the centre; their roots stretched out, giving the much needed strength to the dirt above us. There were a great number of homes dotted around, tall but not overpowering to the scenery, almost as if they were grown from a seed to match all that were around them.

  “This is our secret, our place of refuge from above, so we may escape from the cruel amusement of Hecate”.

  “This is… amazing”.

  “Thank you; over recent years Hecate has become more hostile towards us; even a slight trespass upon what she deems acceptable behaviour and we are thrown into the city prison, awaiting to do battle. So we built up this place, through the work of hands and magick. If she were to ever find out about it, we would be given an all but certain death; I trust that you will keep this unspoken of?”.

  “Of course, in fact, I may need your help”.

  Camerine looked at me seemingly trying to draw out words from within.

  “Would this have anything to do with your private matter?”. He said as he began to smirk.

  “Yes… ”. I said pulling a bemused expression.

  I explained all that had happened to me, where I was from and my purpose of being here; he was very kind hearted, even giving me a slight hug; now that was something I missed greatly.

  “Perhaps we could help you, if she is gone we all would have a much more peaceful life, but it will not be easy; she will be at the ‘Rartonvie Mystic Brawl’ tomorrow; we should go”.

  “Will we be able to get close to her though?”.

  “If we sit in the corner closest to her, we will be able to see her more clearly. If you wanted more information, I know that the university has a great deal of books, it is like an altar to her greatness. Anyhow, we need to prepare”.

  We repeatedly walked up and down the stairs, gathering the food, placing it in order of size upon the planked tables. Each of the seats around the tables, had a name affront of it, designated only for that person, written on folded parchment. Upon the centre of the largest table was a spit-roasted hog, with fried apples saluting beneath it. It took us a few more hours before the second batch of food was ready, again placing it precisely upon the tables.