Soulforged

Chapter 8

-/-

He could feel his heart pounding hard in his chest, fast and loud like a drum beat, so loud that surely Clara would be able to hear it, and easily find him in his hiding place. She had already found Nicole; his little sister's happy shriek had been audible, even from Armand's lofty perch in the stable gables. Well Armand was determined that his nursemaid, and best friend, would not find him so easily, he was a master of hide and seek ,and had spent much of those first few weeks after their arrival, in Poitiers, searching out the best hiding spaces.

Yet it wasn't just his uncanny ability, to spot the things others seemed to miss, that made him the so far undefeated champion at hide and seek; Armand knew it was his ability to remain silent, and fade into the background, when he chose, that aided him. Still as his grumbling hungry belly joined, his drum beating heart, Armand wondered just how long he could hold out in the stables, before he chose to give in. Being Champion of hide and seek, was all well and good, but it couldn't compare to munching on oat cakes, whilst he listened to Clara make her halting way through the nursery primer.

Armand was caught in his decision, when his sharp ears caught the sound of footsteps...perhaps Clara would find him after all?

Creeping to the edge of the hayloft, Armand peeked over the edge, smothering a grin with his hand, as he watched his best friend creep around the dark, and gloomy stables, his oldest brother insisted were haunted. If Clara was scared by their stories, she didn't let it stop her, and Armand felt a rush of pride for his brave friend, when even Armand's second oldest brother, Alphonse, refused to set foot inside them after Henri's stories.

At nearly fourteen Clara was almost twice his age, but Armand had always been unnaturally serious, and mature for his years, and so other than a small difference in height ,it never seemed to Armand that she was that much older than him. Besides he was growing like a weed, or at least that was what his mother said, with a mixture of exasperation, and tempered fondness. Armand was already taller than both Alphonse and Francoise, and was destined to be unnaturally tall, for his family. Clara by contrast, had barely altered from the twelve year old nursery maid, who had taken his hand, all those years ago in Paris.

She was still kind, and delicate, and brave, and very pretty...flushing as he pushed away thoughts of Clara's big brown eyes, Armand couldn't help but follow his friend with his gaze, from his hidden perch, his grin growing behind his hand, as she took a step towards the ladder that led to his perch.

A sudden bang had both of them jumping; only Armand's hand smothered his cry of surprise.

"Jean!" Clara's normally soft voice scolded loudly, and Armand smirked as a rather cowed looking stable boy entered his view, struggling under the weight of the tack, he had clearly dropped only a moment ago.

A blush staining his cheeks, Jean shuffled over to the rack and laid down his burden, before turning back to the pretty nursemaid. "I didn't mean to scare you Clara."

"I wasn't scared, you just startled me, making all that noise." Clara retorted smartly, and Armand silently cheered her on. His Clara wasn't scared of anything.

"I wasn't expecting to see anyone, and in the light I thought you were..."

"Oh honestly, have you been listening to those silly ghost stories as well?" Clara tutted, and if it were possible Jean seemed to blush more, something that looked down right ridiculous, Armand thought, with all those freckles of his.

"You might scoff Clara, but Charles and Remy swear they saw her too..."

"Charles and Remy were probably drunk again, and you should know better, than to spread their gossip for them. Monsieur Henri has already spread those stories to the nursery, and poor Mademoiselle Nicole, keeps thinking this white lady will come out, and snatch her out of her bed."