The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 21-25

He chuckled at the young woman's confusion, which was apparent from the furrowed line of her brow. He held out his hand and without hesitation, she placed hers within his, then as one, they walked from the room.

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Khalid swore that if the air in the parlor turned any bluer, it would begin to choke him as surely as the exhaust emitted from those new-fangled horseless carriages would. He resisted the urge to chuckle and held up his free hand to ward off his friend's blows.

"Very well! We are leaving! See?"

He pulled gently on Edgar's halter and began to lead him from the room. He paused only a moment, before turning and walking to the front door. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at the invectives Helen threw at his retreating back.

"Really, mon ami! I am shocked to hear such filth coming from a lady's lips! I never expected to hear such language even from you! Tisk! Tisk! For shame upon you!"

He grinned wickedly and Edgar pulled away slightly from him. The beast shook its head at him and then surprised Khalid by nipping lightly at his shoulder. The huge brown eyes stared solemnly into Khalid's for a moment and then the animal let loose a blast of warm air from his nostrils, which Khalid interpreted as a sign of his disgust with the man. Khalid's smile slipped from his face and he sighed as the two walked out the front door. He closed it quietly behind him, before leading Edgar to the lean-to next to the cottage. The former Chancellor to Nasser al-Din Shah Qajar bowed his head and leaned it against the velvety smooth cheek of the mule. His eyes tightly clenched, his handsome mouth twisted.

"Oh, Helen …." He whispered huskily.

Edgar pressed his large head comfortingly against Khalid and nickered softly into the man's ear for a few moments.

"You want to know why I bait her."

An emphatic nod of the large head made him laugh.

"Well, mon ami, since it is you, I will tell you the truth but you must promise me that you will not tell a soul. Do I have your word?"

The resultant nod almost knocked the man off his feet and Khalid released his hold on the halter.

"Hey! Easy, mon ami! Easy! Sometimes you do not know your own strength! Very well. The truth is this … I have absolutely no idea. What?"

In the blink of an eye, Khalid found himself lying prone in a rather large mud puddle. Lifting himself up on his elbows, he glared at Edgar.

"Why did you do that?" He bellowed. "I told you the truth! I have absolutely no idea why I love to torment her so. I guess there is just something so fascinating about her when I rile her. I find myself looking for ways to provoke her, just so I can see her react." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "I find her so very arousing when she is angry, but you can never tell her. After all, you promised."

The beast leaned its head forward, carefully grasped Khalid by his wrist and helped the man to his feet. Edgar nuzzled against Khalid's shoulder for a moment and then turned to walk into the lean-to. The man looked down at his suit, which was now covered in mud and then after the mule.

"Well, I suppose I can take that as a promise." He grumbled.

"I am going to hold you to your word, Edgar!" Khalid huffed.

"Merde! So much for cutting a rakish figure for the lady. Some fop I turn out to be. I seem to be more of a flop!" He sullenly griped. "Edgar, hold still. It seems that I will need a change of clothes sooner than I expected, so I might as well take your pack off now and bring it inside with me. I will see to your supper after I have a bath and dress. Never fear, mon ami! I should not be too long."

A soft snort sounded and Khalid shook his head.

"What are you complaining about? You are not the one covered in mud! And, this was a brand new suit, too! Merde!"

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"Xavier? Xavier!" A hesitant voice rasped. "Where are you?"

"Here. I am here, Jacob. Come closer."

Xavier's words, which rolled through the air with the consistency of sludge oil floating atop water, left Jacob feeling in desperate need of a bath. As if, he could scrub away Xavier's presence from his life with a bar of soap.

"Bloody unlikely, but he pays well. So, I will do as he wishes … for now."

Jacob cautiously walked toward the sound of Xavier's voice. Narrowing his eyes, he peered into the inky blackness of the shadows before him. The sudden hiss and rattle of a pipe overhead caused him to jump back from the noise and evoked a feral chuckle from Xavier.

"Nervous, Jacob? Why on earth are you nervous? Surely, a strapping, young man, such as you, has nothing to fear from a being such as me. Why, you could rid yourself of me with less difficulty than if you thought to swat a fly. But …."

It seemed to Jacob that the shadows swirled and a tiny figure, which seemed a part of the darkness, stepped into the flickering light of the furnace.

"… I certainly would not recommend it, not so long as you are in my employ, anyway. Now, on to business. What news do you bring me of the good Madame? Does she still wander hither, thither and yawn? How goes her quest to find the lost heiress?"

While Xavier's voice seemed to dance lightly through the air, Jacob knew the act was as false as the smile he now had plastered on his face. And, Jacob did have news. News that Xavier would not find pleasing to hear.

"And, Xavier does sometimes kill the messenger. I do not wish to tell all that I have learned, but Xavier can sense a lie better than anyone I have ever met. Fuck! Well, I better answer or it will be the furnace for me."

Jacob cleared his throat and raked his tousled locks back through his splayed fingers.

"Yes, well, I do have news of Madame Helen. She and Monsieur de Seul have returned to her cottage and they were not alone. They brought a young woman with them. A rather pretty thing. She has long, curly hair that is the most interesting shade of brown. It is almost like melted chocolate. I have not been able to get close enough to see clearly the color of her eyes, but they seem dark. So, I would hazard a guess that they are brown as well. She is taller than Madame is, but considerably shorter than Monsieur de Seul, so again, I must give you my best approximation of her height as being average. She is very slender, but has … um … well, delightfully womanly curves. I do not know her name, but I believe she is the one for which Madame has been looking."

A seemingly interminable silence filled the air with its leaden weight. Jacob fought the urge to turn and run from Xavier's presence like the gingerbread man, just as fast as he can. His instinct for self-preservation won over his fear and he remained rooted to the spot. The boiler room was stifling and yet, Jacob felt tiny fingers of ice tickle down along the length of his spine as Xavier spoke.

"Well, this is a most unfortunate turn of events, but perhaps all is not lost. She is a young woman, non?"

Jacob nodded.

The shadows swallowed Xavier's small shape and a sinister chuckle echoed throughout the room. Jacob lost the battle with his nerves and cringed at the horrid parody of mirth.

"You may go, Jacob. Continue to keep watch over Madame Helen and her charges. Report to me in one week. I wish to know what occupies their time each day. Go! Do what you do best! And, you may just live long enough to enjoy your ill-gotten gains."

Jacob's nerves surrendered and he half-ran, half-stumbled from the boiler room, his head filled with the high-pitched, maniacal laughter of Xavier Balard.

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¹ Tu êtes une merveille! Non! Tu êtes mon ange parfait! – Translation: You are a marvel! No! You are my perfect angel!

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Chapter Twenty-Three – Sin

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Is it a sin to make love when the lover's heart is true?

Or, is evil judged by virtue lost and a man's malevolent grin?

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Jacob Ruthven hungrily gasped in the coolness of the night air as he carefully closed the heavy metal door behind him. His fingers worked unthinkingly over the workings of the lock, which secured the door. After giving the lock a final tug to ascertain he had secured it properly, the man pulled up the lapels of his coat, nestled his head within their comforting shelter and walked quickly away from the evil that currently resided in the boiler room.

"Mon Dieu! Everything inside me tells me to run from that man as fast and as far away as I can. But, each time I am near Madame's cottage, I feel something drawing me and holding me there. Perhaps, it is best if I continue my vigil. If I do not do that man's bidding, I know the next one he hires will not give a fig for anything that man plans to do to them. Xavier surely has something dreadful planned. Maybe I can keep them safe or at the very least, warn them. Merde! I am as good as dead just for having these thoughts. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have never before cared about the fate of those upon whom I spy. Why these people? Putain! With Xavier being the way he is, I am bound to get myself killed acting like this. I am an imbecile, a complete and utter fool. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

The distraught man unleashed his anger on a tin can lying on the ground, pulling his foot back, kicking it hard and sending it clattering into the wall of the alley. He winced at the sound it made and glanced quickly around to see if the noise attracted any attention. Seeing no one, he sighed and ran his hand through his unruly locks.

"Of all the idiotic times to grow a conscience, Jacob! Why now, damnez-le?"

And, a little voice inside his head spoke.

"You have chosen now to grow a conscience because when you are near that woman, you can feel and that is something you have never done in this life. You feel something, Jacob …."

He wanted to clap his hands over his ears, so he would not have to listen to that voice. Not wishing to dwell any deeper into his newly awakened feelings, as he feared he would not like the answers he discovered, he broke into a trot and disappeared into the shadows of the back alleys of Paris. He had a job to do, whether he liked it or not.

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The carriage rocked and lurched as it tilted dangerously into a pothole. Too late its sole occupant sought to brace himself, as his mind had wandered far from the confines of the vehicle and he had been lost in those unfamiliar thoughts. His head thudded heavily against the hardwood frame of the door, causing the man to curse soundly. Placing his hand over the bruised spot and wincing as he examined the growing lump with his fingers, he looked out the window and to his surprise, found it was late afternoon; he had almost arrived at his destination. He slid open the partition in the roof of the carriage and hailed the driver to stop. Jacob grabbed his beaten and weathered leather valise from the floor of the conveyance and hopped out as soon as the coachman opened the door. He nodded to the man as he tossed a small bag of coins to him. Jacob turned and casually entered the Bois de Vincennes. He chose a path at random and strolled casually along it, pausing here and there as if to admire the scenery. His feet followed no discernable course other than to veer his steps ever towards the northeast section of the park, which led him into the most heavily forested part of the Bois. When the trail he followed began to veer to the south, he nonchalantly glanced around, making certain that no watchful eyes were upon him. As soon as he felt sure of his anonymity, he left the path and silently slipped into the cold embrace of the shadowy forest. He followed a circuitous route as he made his way towards the cottage hidden deep in the wood. Jacob found himself often stopping and listening carefully to the quiet sounds of the forest around him. After a time, he realized that his traitorous mind listened for something, but what it was, he did not know. The deeper he forged into the forest, the more he paused to listen. When at last he despaired of hearing anything but the soft sounds of the trees and beasts, he shuddered, as the strains of a gentle melody seemed to reach out to him and enfold him within its strangely comforting embrace. The music evoked a hazy memory to slip before his mind's eye, gone in a flash, leaving only a vague impression of a pair of adoring hazel-hued eyes.

"How could I forget? I always think I hear music when I come here. It is so soft, almost as if someone was playing it within a closed room with me standing just outside, but I am being foolish. It must be the wind blowing through the trees for there are no such things as ghosts. It must be some trick created by Monsieur de Seul to keep inquisitive people such as me away from their cottage. I do not know anyone with hazel eyes that ever looked upon me with such emotion. Perhaps, the rumors about Madame Helen are true and she is a witch. Maybe, this forest is bewitched."

He caught himself before he chuckled aloud and shook his head in disgust.

"I am getting sloppy. Imagine laughing out loud here of all places. Mon Dieu! This place may not be haunted, but it certainly is strange. There! At last! There it is. Now, let us see how Madame de Blanc and her charges fare this fine spring evening."

Banishing his uneasiness with a shrug and a smirk, he continued on his way to the cottage. With the lilting notes running unaware through his mind, Jacob felt emboldened and he continued to creep closer to the cottage. Without realizing what he was doing, he dropped his valise near the trunk of a tree and continued past the point at which he normally stopped. A light shone in one of the windows and it attracted him, much like a moth to a candle flame. As he came closer, he noticed a shadowy figure crossing back and forth in front of the window. The logical part of his mind understood that someone was in the room and that he should stay away from the window. But, he felt a presence within that called to him and it awoke a hitherto dormant part of his soul. Something or someone in that room beckoned to him, summoned him to come and look through the window. The man slunk lower to the ground and moved toward the window with the grace of a predatory feline. He crouched below the window, gathering his courage to peek inside the room and then slowly began to stand. His back, stiff from his hunched sojourn across the yard, protested his attempt to straighten it and Jacob suddenly felt as if the world around him shifted. He resisted the urge to groan, as the silvery panes of glass seemed to tilt and swirl before his eyes. Feeling a desperate need to hold onto something as he rode out the wave of nausea, he reached out his hand and grasped hold of the windowsill to steady him. A powerful jolt of electricity entered his hand and shot up his arm the moment he touched it. A surge of unexpected excitement followed the initial shock and, the little voice that lived deep within him seemed to cry out in joyous recognition of the force rolling through his body. His eyes closed, his head rolled back and his cock began to harden.

"Mon Dieu! What the fuck is that?"

He pulled his hand away from the window. His hand pulsed as if he had burned it. Jacob wanted to inspect his hand, but settled on simply shaking the tremors from it. He then turned his attention to his erect manhood, which throbbed painfully within the tight confines of his trousers. As he attempted to adjust the position of his arousal, he noticed the shadowy figure in the room loom larger in the window. Unable to rearrange his cock without risking discovery, Jacob forgo comfort and swore silently as he dropped to the ground. He pressed his back close to the wall. Feeling as if he could barely breathe, he lifted his head and watched, as the shadow became a shape, a person. A bare, wrinkled arm stretched out to the window and pressed its palm to the glass. Hanging about its wrist, Jacob's eyes caught sight of a brilliant sparkle of scarlet light, which soon held him entranced. A raging fire blazed through his groin, stunning him with the speed it caused his manhood to lengthen and harden even more than it had been only a moment before. Crouching below the window became painful, but he could not move … not even if he wished to do so. His eyes locked onto the scarlet blaze. And then, he heard a voice. A woman's voice calling an unfamiliar and at the same time, familiar, name.

"Cadmus? Is that you? Are you here? Cadmus?"

The little voice deep inside stirred instantly to life and answered the woman's call.

"Hush, love. Yes, it is I. Your Cadmus is here."

"Cadmus? Cadmus? Where are you? Come to me, my love. I need to touch you. I need to hold you. I wish to love you and give you the rest of my soul. I have been so very lonely. I have waited much too long, but now, you are here. I swore I would find you and he mocked me, but I knew. I trusted the Fates that this day would come. And now, here it is. Oh, Cadmus! Do you remember our first time? I thought you too large to fit and you laughed at my naiveté. And then, when you entered me and I cried, you shed tears along with me. Do you remember how we found our pleasure together? I do. I remember it all and I eagerly wait the time when we can be with one another always. I want to take you into my mouth, love you and drink deeply of your salty spendings. I want you to bury your hardness deep inside me and fill me with your seed. I want to join with you and plunge into the abyss of ecstasy. Oh, my love! I need you to tell me that we shall be together soon and then, I can bear the waiting. Please tell me, Cadmus!"

"Oh, my dearest love! Sabratha?"

The name slipped his lips as a hoarse, but tender whisper and the astonished man could not suppress the groan that escaped his mouth as the hard, burning length of his manhood erupted. His body finding its release with his mouth's utterance of that name.

Her name.

"What on God's green earth is happening to me? And, who is Sabratha?"

The hand slowly withdrew from the glass and the crimson glow gradually moved out of Jacob's sight. He heard the woman's voice break, as if sobbing.

"Cadmus?"

One last whispery echo called out the man's name. Then, the light was no more and the soft sounds of the evening resumed. Jacob crawled away from the window and into the forest, where he stood. He felt confused, ashamed, disgusted and embarrassed by his body's sudden explosive release. Wishing to clean away the rapidly cooling evidence of his unexplained passion, the man began to back track to his blind where his pack lay propped against the tree trunk. His hand moved to brush back his hair from his face and he froze. His fingers felt wet. He explored his face, surprised to find his face damp with tears, his tears.

"Merde! What the fuck is happening to me?"

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Helen stood, her eyes vacant, staring blindly out the window into the swiftly deepening shadows of the evening with her hand pressed against the cold windowpane. After a moment, her head tilted slightly to one side and she let out a sigh. She began to back away from the window, still holding her hand out in front of her. Her feet continued to move her away from the window, stopping only as the back of her legs bumped against her bed, which toppled her from her feet and she sat down hard on the bed.

Helen blinked once.