Beastly Desires

Chapter Twelve

Colette steered the mare up to the mammoth black gates. Between their iron teeth she could see the great, grey castle behind and the sprawling gardens that laid between the two. The castle was massive and old. A dusting of snow glittered atop its towers and walls. A thick layer of frost blanketed most of the garden beds and flowers. Nothing seemed alive. It was all too quiet. A huge castle like this would normally be bustling with waiting hands, gardeners, guards and people. But as she removed herself from the mare and quietly made the rest of the distance to the gates, she felt utterly alone.

The mare neighed warily, backing away. Colette pulled in its reigns. "I am not leaving without my father."

And as if the gates heard her request the iron shield swung open, a chilled breeze in its wake.  Colette closed her eyes as a feeling of death washed over her. The mare neighed again, stomping its hove.

"Come on," she gritted out between her teeth.

They came inside the gates and Colette turned to watch them close behind her. This was it. No turning back. She half hoped Gregorie had followed her here, but she knew the promise she had made him before she left  had him waiting for her back at his estate. She didn't have time to think about the future now, not when her father was somewhere in this castle, sick and possibly in harm's way.

She tied off the mare in a half sunken stable before climbing the steps to the castles tall, broad doors. She noted the darkness in the windows and slowly ascended the last step up.

Two large iron knockers settled in the middle of the doors. Their gnarly, twisted faces taunted her to wrap her fingers around their toothy grins. Colette grabbed one and seethed as a piercing cold shot through her palm.

Before she could knock the door swung open and an older man stood on the other side. He was fitted in black attire. The clothing wasn't exquisite but surprisingly quite plain and the only color on him were his hazel eyes. They were pinched at the corners as they swept across Colette's face and over her shoulders behind her.

Colette turned to look where he stared, but saw nothing other than the gates.

She turned back to him and pulled the rolled parchment from the satchel at her side. "I received a letter from you informing me of my fathers presence here. I've come to retrieve him immediately."

The butler studied her face once more before extending an arm out beside him. Colette stepped into the castle and was startled to find it cold inside. There was no fire in the twin hearth's that faced each other on either side of the great hall. Long, heavy velvet curtains covered the grand windows. Not a trace of light slipped through. The only light that was detected were the lit sconces on the walls and the candelabras that sat on various columns and shelves. The candle light gave an eerie yellow glow that was muted by the dust that swallowed the enormous space.

She couldn't understand why anyone would want to live in such a cold, dark place.

The butler grabbed a candelabra off a near column and beckoned Colette to follow. They passed beneath a large, sweeping staircase that led to the exposed second level and back down a long hall lit by more sconces. Colette noted the lack of portraits along the halls, the lack of people.

"May I ask who is the master of  this castle?"

The butler remained silent as he led them around a bend in the wall and down another hall. This hall was narrower and uninvitingly cold. It had to have been the servants quarters. They passed a few doors but no light was shown beneath them.

Colette didn't inquire further. Her mind was on her father and what horrid condition she might find him in.

They rounded another bend in the hall and came to a large wooden door with a small slatted window.
The butler pulled a ring of iron keys from under his waist coat and unlocked the door. A musty breeze wafted out as he pushed it open with his shoulder.
Colette grimaced. They were holding her father in a cell. What could he have done to be placed behind bars?

"Where is my father?" She asked, hurriedly walking around the butler down the long stretch of cells.
The cells were empty and covered in cobwebs and dust. They looked like they hadn't been used in years.

The butler lifted the candelabra toward the end of the hall. There at the very end a faint glow spilled across the wet, stone floor. Colette couldn't keep the cry of relief that escaped her throat as she hurried towards the cell.

"Father," she cried out, falling to her knees in front of the last cell to the left of the hall.

Her father was huddled beneath a wool blanket atop a bed of straw. His back was to hers and Colette could smell a faint tinge of blood and something richer. Something sickly.

"Hurry and open the cell," she called out to the butler.

The butler dropped to a knee and shimmied open the cell door with a key from the ring of keys. The small iron door opened on screaming hinges and Colette hustled inside the tight confines.

She noted the tray of half eaten food and pitcher of water. A pail was settled in a corner of the cell with what looked like dirty water.

She grabbed the small candelabra beside the door and brought it over to her father. His breathing was ragged and strained. She didn't waste any time and grabbed his shoulder, turning him over into her lap.

"Father," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. She ran her fingers across his forehead. He was extremely warm and sweat clung to his skin.
She whirled around to the butler who stood outside the cell. "He's racked with fever. Why is he here? What manner of hospitality is this?"

She turned back to her father and grasped his face. "Papa, please. Can you hear me?"

Her father stirred some, groaning as he his eyes fluttered open.

"Colette," he sputtered out, reaching a hand out toward her face.

Colette yanked her hood back and brought his hand to her cheek. "Father," she sniffled, nuzzling his palm. "I was worried I would be too late."
She felt her father shudder and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm here, father. I'm here."

The butler rattled his keys incessantly. Colette stared daggers at him. "Why is he here?" She demanded.

Her father let out a strangled cough. "C- Colette. You shouldn't be here. You must leave immediately." He gripped her shoulders, shaking uncontrollably.

"Father. I came for you. I was summoned." Colette reached for her father but he slumped down against the wall before she could grab his arm.

That's when she saw his leg. The wooden peg had been snapped in half, the bottom half nowhere in sight. She also noticed the smell of blood and looked down at her hands. A dusting of dried blood clung to her fingers and palms.

The blanket her father was wrapped in had a dark patch on it and she brought it up to her nose. The smell of blood was strong and she pulled it away, cringing. Her father was badly hurt and from the smell of it, the wound was already festering. That would explain his fever.

"He's hurt. What happened? Why won't you say anything?" She reeled, staring at the butler with pleading eyes.

He only frowned. "Colette. Please, you must leave me. It is not safe for you here. T- the be..."

"No!" Colette felt the desperation build inside of her. She would not leave her father in this unholy place. "I will not leave you here."

Her father begged her. Fear rimmed his glassy eyes as he practically pushed her across the cell. His wooden leg dragged along the floor as he ushered her away on all fours.

"No. No, I will not leave. Stop, father. You are not well. He is not well. Why is he here? I demand to know who put him in this godforsaken cell!"

Colette's father grunted and fell to his face. She cried out, turning him onto  his side.  She lifted his blood soaked shirt and gasped at the splintered wounds arching across his backside. The lien wraps that were bound had loosened and now sagged open, exposing the festering wounds to the elements.

Colette felt sick to her stomach. She did not know how she would get her father back home. If it was even smart to move him across the length of the cell.

The butler rattled his keys again and Colette nearly lost it. "What?" She snapped. "I cannot move him. He needs his wounds cleaned and fresh bandages. I cannot help him. He'll die." And at that sudden realization, Colette hunched over and started sobbing  uncontrollably. "Why?" She breathed through gulps of air. "Why is he here?"