Chapter Four – House of Pain



Summertime found the manor as busy as a beehive, as all the legal and financial procedures for the establishment of the inn were satisfactorily completed and the renovation of the east wing was in course. Leo had proved himself a perfect master builder, supervising at close hand the work of the small building team when he did not roll up his sleeves himself.

When the “Wild Pansy” finally opened for business by mid-June, all rooms had already been booked until the end of October, not only because the open-house visitors had been eager to come back for a longer stay, but also in part due to the unexpected help from Spencer, who had spread the word about the inn to many of his acquaintances. It had also been by the first week of June that Leo had moved in the manor, to the room next to the library, as everybody agreed that Susanna and her mother should not be alone with strangers in the house.

With so much work to be done, Spencer’s invitation for a picnic came as refreshment for Susanna and her mother.

She had hesitated to accept it at first, worried about her several activities, but had been convinced to go when everybody agreed that her mother, who had not been feeling so well lately, would surely benefit from a well deserved pause, even if just for a day. She was really glad, however, when the invitation was extended to Julia and she agreed to come from school for the weekend.

In spite of all the arrangements made, Julia called the night before the appointed date to excuse herself due to some school emergency. And when Spencer finally arrived to drive them to the chosen place, he found Susanna’s mother feeling rather unwell, resting in her room.

Susanna had tried to apologize for the inconvenience but was somehow convinced by Spencer, who would not waste all the delicious food specially prepared for the occasion, and also by her mother, who had come downstairs to welcome such a fine young man, to go to the picnic alone with him.

She was not very happy about it, not that she had anything against his company, but because she might have to be in social grounds with Augusta. It was only when Spencer made a comment about her mother attending some business affairs in the village that she finally decided to go.

Spencer had chosen a beautiful site by the foot of the moors northwest to his land, where a waterfall roared down the rocks to form a large pool and, further ahead, the river and the lake Susanna knew so well. It was early morning and the sun had not hit the clearing in the woods surrounding the site in full force when they arrived.

Clever talk, refined manners, a dandy attitude, Spencer was really a fine company and Susanna had to admit that she was having a fine time. However, when they went for a swim beneath the waterfall, the statue of a Greek god resting on the bank by her side had not been able, for a single moment, to take her mind off Leo.

She did not know what to think about him. He had never behaved as an employee when he was one. He was pretty much the same now as a business partner. As workmates in the pen, he treated her like a boy, actually, teasing her whenever he could. Then they would spend hours riding or talking in the library and he would treat her as a peer, actually paying attention to what she said, discussing and pondering her thoughts and ideas, as if he really cared. But then there were the long looks that she would catch every now and then, causing him to snort out of the blue and walk away. Even so, she had to admit that he was the closest thing to a friend she had ever had.

Spencer woke her from her considerations with an invitation to eat. The food was really delicious, as promised. She had kindly turned down his offer of a glass of white wine. She knew herself too well and was not willing to risk getting drunk alone with a strange man in the middle of nowhere, no matter how nice and well bred he might be. After all, she was a “city lass”, according to Leo, and she should know better. The fresh orange juice was just fine in the heat of mid-morning and that milk pudding was food from heaven. She could not stop eating.

It was just a while later that she realized that she was not feeling so well. In spite of the sweat line on her forehead, there were shivers coming up her spine, a not unfamiliar sensation. She reached for her dress and found it rather difficult to put on, as if she were moving in slow motion. Spencer kept talking to her, smiling, but she found it difficult to think, let alone articulate a reasonable reply.

“Are you unwell, darling?” He asked, touching her hair softly.

“I’m drunk.” She thought and frowned, wondering that she could not be drunk, though she knew the feeling too well.

She closed her eyes with a moan, dizzy, and bent up her head, trying to draw a deep breath.

Then something rang like a fire alarm inside her, when she realized that his lips were on hers.

“No…” She wasn’t sure she had said it out loud or just thought. She could feel her body’s response despite of herself, as he thrust his tongue in her mouth, warm, strong, rough, leaving her breathless. Fast and slow at the same time, thoughts and feelings collided inside her. She realized how badly she had missed that kind of touch on her nape, how easy it would be to abandon herself to the warm breath in her ear, the hand sliding down her waist and up her thigh, the strength of a man’s body pressing down on hers, the soft touch of his long chestnut hair between her fingers…

“Leo”. Shocked, she was suddenly aware that it was Spencer’s short dark hair she was touching, it was Spencer’s lips that reached inside the collar of her dress for her swollen nipples, fighting the thick fabric of her bathing suit.

She struggled to open her eyes. She knew if only she could see Spencer’s face, she would be able to resist.

But, to her shock, it was Leo’s face she saw so close to her own. A wave of happiness flowed through her body and she smiled in rapture like a mad woman, crossing her arms behind his neck and her legs around his waist.

It all happened quickly despite her turbid senses.

Her body was suddenly released from the pressure of his. She opened her eyes and slowly sat up, in time to see Leo punch a caught off-guard and very disturbed Spencer on the jaw. Still in that slow motion state, she watched as a fine line of blood ran from his nose and the corner of his mouth, as he sat dizzy on the ground.

She was suddenly shaken from her altered state by the clamp of Leo’s iron fingers on her arm. He tugged her to her feet and dragged her across the clearing and through the woods to the road. Without a single word he threw her on the front seat and tucked himself in. By the time he started the car, Spencer appeared all of a sudden at his side, hands clenched on the open window. In her confusion, Susanna did not recognize him, an evil look in his eyes, a mocking smile in his bleeding mouth.

“She’s not the Queen of May.” He said as Leo thumped the speed pedal and they drove away, Spencer’s evil laughter echoing in the cloud of dust behind like in a cheap horror movie.

* * *


The feeling of dizziness slowly began to leave her as they drove in silence, turning into nausea. Leo had taken the long way home, a detour to avoid the road by the Llewellyn-Parker’s estate.

Susanna finally ventured to look at him. His face was white as a dead-man’s, livid slanted eyes puncturing the road ahead, pressed lips whiter than the rest of his skin. She could see the bruised knuckles on his left hand where they had clashed with Spencer’s bones. In her blurred mind, she welcomed the realization that he was a lefty as if it were something new and wondrous to her, like discovering the secret of life.

Then the nausea became too strong to bear.

“Stop the car. I’m going to be sick…”

At first he seemed to have missed what she had said, then pulled over.

She slid rather than got out of the car, reeled across the road to the sidewalk and, one arm hanging from a tree branch and the other on her knee, threw her guts out. Finding a helping handkerchief in the pocket of her skirt, she wiped off the disgusting taste of sour milk pudding from her mouth the best she could and staggered back to the car.

“Ye’re drunk.” Leo muttered between his teeth as they drove away, his face turned red as if his head was about to explode.

“I am not!” She replied, still sounding and behaving as if she were.

“Wha’ the fuck is it, then, ye wan’ me to believe he drugged ye, aye?” He stared at her, furious, losing control of the car for a moment, swerving in zigzag until he could go straight again.

“HA! You curse too!” She thought, another hook in the chain of absurd events, and covered her mouth to suppress an irresistible urge to laugh.

Then an idea slowly began to get in shape in the swirling meanders of her mind. What if Spencer had really drugged her? She tried to recall the details of the meal they had shared. He had drunk wine, but had had at least one glass of orange juice from the same bottle from which her glass had been filled. Something in the food, perhaps? Then it hit her. He had not touched the pudding.

“Son of a bitch!” She thought and the wave of laughter could not be stopped, as she realized that it was nothing but the truth. Spencer was Augusta’s son, after all.

“I must be in shock.” A voice inside her tried to reason as she started chuckling nervously.

Her laughter had a strong effect on Leo. He pressed the brakes all of a sudden, in the middle of the road and turned to her, fists clenched, one on the steering wheel, the other on the back of her seat inches from her skull.

She wondered that if he punched her, it would bring her back to her senses, the thought making her laughter increase to insanity.

“Are ye ou’ o’ yer fuckin’ mind?” He shouted finally out of control. “Wha’ in ‘e name o’ bloody hell were ye thinkin’, rubbin’ yerself in tha’... Tha’ bugger… Tha’ bloody swine!”

Her laughter lessened a bit and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wished she could tell him that she had almost been raped, she was quite sure of that by now. But he had seen her when she had unmistakably opened herself to Spencer. She could tell him that it was to him that she had surrendered, not to Spencer. But that she could not do, because she could not understand what had happened. In total despair, she did the only thing she knew she was strong enough to do. She was a “city lass” after all. And she could damn well lie.

“Why, you were saving me, then, a knight in shining armour rescuing a damsel in need? You know damn well what he meant by my not being the Queen of May, don’t you? Did you really think that I needed… Wanted to be rescued?”

The cruel smile pinned to her lips made her jaw hurt like hell. His incredulous look at her plunged like a dagger in her heart.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

She shut her eyes aching for the purging stroke.

But instead of beating her, he let her go and dashed out of the car, vanishing into the woods.

She sat there, alone, tears flooding out of her eyes. She did not feel like laughing anymore. She was exhausted, her body hurt all over and she felt dirty beyond the stench of vomit, the sandalwood scent of Spencer’s sweat in her hair, the sticky residue of his saliva on her neck and chest, the dust of the road stuck to her own sweat.

This woman, the one who had lied to Leo, was the old Susanna, the heartless shallow bitch who didn’t care about what people thought about her, the wicked cow she knew so well. She crossed her arms on her chest holding her shoulders, her stronger and bolder self hugging this new, fragile one, hoping one could prevent the other from
shattering to pieces.

She cried a little more when she noticed that the print of Leo’s fingers above her elbow had already begun to turn from red to blue.

* * *


The week passed Susanna by, as she slowly recovered from the pain and the shock.

Spencer had at least had the decency of not setting foot on the manor again. The news had reached him soon enough to allow him to confirm her story about how they had been involved in a minor car accident on the way to the waterfall, having been rescued by Leo who fluked to be driving by. Even the black swollen lump on her arm had been satisfactorily explained as a bump on the window knob on the passenger’s seat. Fortunately enough Susanna and Leo had arrived at the manor at the same time and their distressed appearance had been taken as a natural response to the accident. Spencer had in turn alleged a minor concussion, a perfect excuse not to come by, adding a cruel touch by sending Susanna and her mother a letter apologizing for the unfortunate event and a bouquet of roses, along with a package with Susanna’s shoes, the ones she had had no time to put on, clean and shining.

She had refused to be taken to a hospital, so her mother insisted that at least she spent the first couple of days in bed, tended on with herbal tea and chicken broth. She had had no need to fake the sate of health of a person involved in a car crash. The pain all over her body, the throbbing skull, the swollen legs, everything was consistent with trauma. No one was ever suspicious that, rather than to her body, it had been to her soul the damage had been done.

Once again her old self had come to her aid. Although she knew she could never go back to being that woman, even if she wanted to, it was in her boldness and even arrogance that she found strength to go on. Only the loss of Leo, her mate, her friend, hurt like an open wound in her heart.

“Whatever.” She had a life now she could enjoy, even though she had been cast in it by means of a tragic event. She felt somewhere deep inside that she owed her loved and lost ones a good, meaningful life, so their death would not be a waste. So that’s what she was determined to have.

And then she realized that she just could not cry. A blessing or a curse, she was yet to find out.

* * *


Another church fête in the busy Spring-Summer schedule would take place the next day, as St. John’s Eve arrived.

Susanna was glad for the first time since the “event” when she laid eyes on Julia again. By the warm hug she could tell that her girlfriend was just as glad to see her.

She knew she would have to tell Julia about Spencer eventually. He had turned up the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing and her friend could be in danger as well. So later that morning, as she was helping Julia to spread the small sachets of St. John’s wort, vervain, trefoil, rue and fern seed on every doorstep of every building the property for protection against malevolent powers, she took her friend by the arm and they sat by the old mill.

Julia was appalled and could not hold back a few tears as she hugged Susanna.

Susanna also told her about Leo’s reaction, but omitted the part about her hallucination, about seeing Leo, a gap in the story that did not pass unnoticed by Julia.

“But I don’t understand, why is Leo mad at you? It was not your fault!” She said, wiping her tears with exasperation.

Susanna kept silent.

“What were his words exactly when you explained everything to him?” Julia asked after a while, urging Susanna to speak out.

The blank stare at Susanna’s face was clear enough.

“You didn’t tell him, did you?! You let him believe…” Julia was horrified.

“He thought I was drunk. I certainly behaved as if I were, anyways… “ Susanna waved her arms in helplessness.

“Why didn’t you explain, why didn’t you defend yourself?!”

“Ju, it’s complicated.” She hesitated. “I’m not exactly a good girl anymore.” She stared at Julia, straight in the eye, as if she were adding “…if you know what I mean.”

Julia looked at her frowning, considering her words, sniffing a little, wiping her red nose.

“This is nonsense. This is not the Dark Ages, for heaven’s sake!” She said at last, upset.

“Look, what if I was not drugged after all? What if I just asked for it?” Her throat had narrowed and her voice came out almost as a whisper. The question had been lingering in her mind, as her memory seemed to be blurred every time she tried to go through the details of what had happened.

“This is nonsense. I know it and you know it too that you would never have sex with Spencer unless you were drugged or under some kind of spell.”

“Why?” Susanna looked at her with surprise.

“Because, silly, you’re in love with Leo, that’s why.” She said with a smile as if Susanna were a stupid child. “And by his reaction, I think he’s in love with you too!” Julia nodded firmly, resting her case.

Susanna stared at Julia, mouth wide open, blinking her tearless eyes, finally struck with the realization of her true feelings for Leo.

“So, all you have to do is talk to him.” Julia said decidedly.

“I can’t!” Susanna was suddenly alarmed.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think he can understand…” Susanna shook her head, a shade of sadness on her face.

“That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my entire life!” Julia shook her head in turn. “That’s it. I’ll bring him here, right now, and you’ll tell him everything and if you don’t, by the Great Mother, I will!” Julia stood up, clapping the palms of her hands on her thighs with determination.

“Julia, please, don’t!” Susanna jumped up and grabbed Julia by the arm. Something in her eyes made Julia stop.

“Why not, Su? I don’t understand…” She frowned and squeezed Susanna’s hands, cold and wet in hers.

“What if… What if I tell him and he does not believe me…?” Her dry eyes added an odd note in her despair. “What if he does, but cannot accept… me?” She shut her eyes hard, aching for the moisture that would not come, as the open wound in her heart stung as if punctured by needles.

“So you’d rather not know at all…” Julia shook her head, disgusted at the realization that Susanna’s reasoning, though distorted by shame and fear, made some sense.

“Oh, girl, this is really complicated, huh?” She held Susanna again, rocking her slightly like a small child.

“I won’t say anything… For now.” Julia smiled faintly, tucking a lock of loose her behind Susanna’s ear.

“There. The Goddess knows I don’t agree with you. But I’m here for you, right?” She held Susanna’s cheeks in her hands and kissed her softly on the forehead.

As they walked back to the house, Susanna squeezed the small sachet of herbs in the pocket of her skirt like a lucky charm and enjoyed the brief sensation of comfort. But something hung in her mind like an impending realization. Maybe it was too late for lucky charms and the malevolent powers had already begun their evil doings.

* * *




Later that evening the two young women sneaked out of the house together after the others went to bed. Julia wondered that maybe a little adventure could cheer Susanna up and they had decided to stay up throughout the shortest night of the year. Fully packed with water, tea, sandwiches, woolen plaids and their sachets of herbs, they went slowly by the woods in high spirits towards the clearing.

When they arrived, Susanna was struck by the memory of the globe of light and welcomed a warm sensation in her bosom.

They lit a small fire right inside the hole in the centre of the millstone.

“So do you think we’re going to die, get mad or become great bards?” Susanna teased Julia, actually feeling very good to be there.

“Well, my dear, you never know… You’d better turn your coat inside out just in case.” She put on her own coat inside out as she spoke. “You don’t want to attract the Wee Folk or the serpents of the Druid’s Egg…” She made a funny face.

“Julia Elizabeth Cameron!” Susanna shook her head with a laugh.

They lay there by the fire staring at the stars. Then Julia told Susanna about the meaning of Midsummer’s Celebration, the summer solstice, when the spear symbolizing the Sun God at the peak of his power meets with the cauldron symbolizing the Goddess in her bounty. And of how the image of John, the Baptist has been amalgamated with the figure of the Horned One and the Wild Man of the wood, the pagan deities having appropriated Christian characters as much as the church had done with ancient celebrations throughout the year.

“Why did you not have a celebration here tonight as you had in Beltane?”

“Hmmm… The coven has decided to risk exposure only on the Four Great Sabbats. This is a Lesser Sabbat, so we just join the ordinary church celebrations.”

“Your body is a temple…” Susanna recited.

“Yes. Everyone is a living temple where the Mystery can manifest itself, no matter where you are…” Julia was moved.

“This is beautiful, Ju. Thank you.” The slight trembling in Susanna’s chest helped the warmth to linger.

They talked and talked as the stars went on their nightly parade, moving faster that night as if to attend some important appointment. They finally fell asleep when the sky turned grey to the east, unaware of a shape watching them from behind an ancient oak. Fully awake, his eyes rested longer on Susanna’s face, pale and peaceful resting on the back of her hand, turned to his side. There, in hiding, protected by the shadows of dawn, he allowed himself a look of tenderness, a look of love. He knew when the sun came out his face would turn again into stone.

When the two women finally woke up and walked away, the shape followed them at a distance. Cool in the morning breeze, his hands moved up searching for his pockets, forgetting that the coat was inside out.

* * *


“Take one step into the light
First the left, then the right
Go ahead and you will see
What has yet not come to be.”


Summer flew by as the Wild Pansy prospered. Work and more work came as a blessing to Susanna. Along with Julia’s cheering presence, it slowly brought her back to her feet. Even the sight of Leo, that in the beginning caused a pain almost too strong to bear, turned into a kind of chronical sore, something she would have to live with. Now it was Julia whom she would go swimming and riding with and spend late hours in the library, as Susanna went through the books of the manor, or just talking about books or discussing Julia’s curriculum at college. Just once they had been interrupted by Leo, come to pick a new book, but soon he found himself another time to use the library, after all he slept right next door.

Then Julia had to go away by the end of July for some pre-term course. Susanna had never felt so lonely, not that she had not been a loner through her teen years, but she found out the hard way what it was to have had and to have lost.

In that rather distressful state of mind, her little tune had become a little prayer she would recite every night as a lullaby to rock her to slumber.


* * *


It was her little tune that woke her up one night after a disturbing dream she could not remember. Something to do with a ritual in the millstone, only leaving her with a heavy heart, not at all like the Lammas Sabbat about a week ago, which she had been invited to attend, when the coven had made offerings of bread baked from the first crop harvest and the first ripe fruit to welcome the fall.

Feeling rather restless all of a sudden, she stood up and paced up and down her room, looking westwards where the clearing would be, seeing the starlit profile of the millstone with her mind’s eye.

Without giving it a second thought, she got dresses and tiptoed out of the house, venturing into the woods.

As she approached the ring of trees surrounding the clearing, she got to a halt. There, at the centre of the millstone, stood the unmistakable shape of August Llewellyn-Parker. Skyclad, a slenderer and younger body than one would expect, she was going round the edge of the stone, stopping at the cardinal points, reciting words in a strange and guttural language, then moving around. When she was facing east again, she went down on her knees and looked up as if she were expecting something. Or someone.

Susanna covered her mouth to suppress as scream when neither someone nor something but a combination of those finally came to Augusta. Susanna could not understand what she was looking at. The creature looked like a wolf, if a wolf could stand on two legs. The she noticed that the creature was carrying a bundle that struggled and shrieked in its forelegs.

Her eyes almost burst out of the orbits when the wolf laid the moving bundle by Augusta’s knees and she reached for a dagger by her side, raising it above her head.

Susanna could feel the scream building up inside her as she realized what was going to take place in front of her eyes: a human sacrifice.

Thoughts flashed through her head for a second and then she gathered all her strength she could to break in the obnoxious scene and stop the madness.

She was halfway through a step when iron fingers closed her mouth and an arm clamped her around the waist, immobilizing her thoroughly.

“Dinna move.” She sighed with relief when she recognized Leo’s baritone in a whisper in her ear.

She tried to turn her head to look at him, her eyes trying desperately to signal to him what was about to happen. She was horrified when he jerked her forward, forcing her to look.

It was then that she realized with relief that the bundle by Augusta’s knee was not a baby, but a small sucking pig.

A second later the little creature lay motionless as the dagger, sparkling as lightning, found rest in its tiny heart.

Through the minutes that followed, Susanna was more than grateful for Leo’s hand on her mouth and his arm around her, keeping her up.

Because it was not over yet.

Shaking involuntarily, they watched as the wolf collected the blood of the dead pig in a pewter bowl and raised it up to Augusta’s lips. Grinning like a mad woman, she swallowed a gulp or two, disgustingly licking her lips. Then the wolf helped her to her feet, picked her up his forelegs and walked by the edged of the millstone, putting her down again. A most bizarre note added to the whole scene when the wolf grabbed its fur at the back of its head and lifted it, spreading it on the stone.

Susanna and Leo trembled together as they recognized Spencer. Also naked, he helped his mother to lie down on the fur and laid himself in full length on top of her. They groaned like beasts in unison when the act came to an end.

Then they just got up and got dressed. Spencer picked a rather prosaic garbage bag to stash the wolf coat and another one for the bowl and the dagger, while Augusta incinerated the small carcass in the hole at the centre of the millstone. As they left the clearing matter-of-factly, as if nothing had happened, Susanna could feel Leo’s breath and her own coming slowly to a pace closer to normal.

When he finally released her they were both sopped in cold sweat.

This time it was Leo’s turn to throw up.


* * *



They walked the path towards the manor in silence. Leo was glad that the wind had finally shifted, taking the smoke and the irksome stench of burnt flesh westwards. “Let the buggers ‘ave a taste o’ it.” However, he could not get rid of the stench himself, stuck on the inside of his nostrils and throat. Together with the taste of vomit, it made a foul unpleasant sensation.

He glanced swiftly at Susanna, staggering by his side, staring blankly at the trees ahead. “There, lass, see wha’ ye go’ yerself involved wi’.” He thought, pressing his lips until it hurt. But it was not the sweet taste of revenge he felt. He was actually absolutely sorry for her. It must have been a shock for her to see Spencer like that. “After all she loves him, right?” He repeated the words over and over in his mind as he had been doing since that bloody morning by the waterfall, as he paced up and down between the trees in the woods, since he had come to a final conclusion after going through all the details of what he had seen. After all the things she had done. And said. She was in love with Spencer.

He had come back for her that morning, in time to see her start the car and drive so slow that he could follow by foot with no difficulty. He had walked right behind her through the kitchen door and had confirmed the story about the car accident. “So you can lie, after all.” He had thought, hands coming to fists by his side, an incredible urge to beat the crap out of her.

That she loved Spencer was the only logical conclusion. The woman he knew was not a slut, though she had been trying to make him believe that she was since the beginning with her dirty mouth and bold attitude. He knew bloody well what it was to feel weak and scared and attack first as a form of self-defence. She certainly looked and sounded as if she were drunk, but she most certainly did not smell like it. She had had a hysterical attack in the car, that’s for sure, a totally explainable reaction to his violent interference in her love affair. She was clearly mad at him and had done her best to shut him out completely. Hence, she loved Spencer and he had got in the way. Pure logic.

And then Spencer had vanished into thin air and he had seen that haze of sadness around her, what had made it clear to him that his conclusion was accurate. She loved Spencer.

Then it had struck him. It had not been out of comradeship or friend’s concern that he had drove to the waterfall that morning. It had not been to protect her from herself that he had attacked Spencer and dragged her out of there. He was jealous. He was in love with her.

That’s why he had turned away in physical pain every time he saw the lump in her arm turning from black to green as days went by. He had hurt her.

But now there was this concrete wall between them and he knew in his guts that it was unlikely to crumble down.

As they came near the manor, a glimpse of an idea that had been hiding at the back of his mind began to reach the surface. Something that Julia had said before leaving for school a week ago. As he was putting her luggage in the trunk of the Bentley, she had grabbed his arm. “You’re as hard-headed as she is.” She had said it staring intensely at him right in the eye. “Spencer in an evil man. It was not her fault.” Then she had got in the car and kept silent all the way to the train station.

Spencer was evil, indeed, if not already for what he had done before, there was no doubt about it after what they has just witnessed. What if he had done something to Susanna, something to make her… He shook his head in denial.

They reached the rim of the woods and a faint light of the rising sun lit their faces. They looked at each other and Leo could feel that his eyes were on fire, burning beneath his lids. He searched her fiery eyes for some sign.

But what Susanna saw was a face of stone.

And she had learnt by now how to freeze her own face.

In silence they walked towards the manor. He stayed behind. It would have been unbearable to climb the staircase together.


* * *



Susanna’s mother had been going in and out of depression lately. Sometimes she would stay in her room for days in a roll, hardly eating. Then she would wake up early and start cleaning up the empty rooms on the upper floor. When Susanna finally asked her why, trying to make her stop, she said that she couldn’t, because everything should be ready for when they arrived.

“Who, mom? Who is coming? The guest rooms downstairs are ready…”

“Oh, Susanna, don’t be silly, dear! Your brothers and sister, who else? And the kids are coming too!” She smiled and sat down on her knees, frantically brushing a resistant smudge from the floorboard.

Susanna froze as she had been glued to the floor. She blinked a couple of times, the familiar shivers running up her spine.

“Mom.” There was no answer, just the sound of the brush against the wood.

She finally held her mother by the shoulders and gently helped her to her feet.

“Mom, let me finish it, will you? It’s teatime now, remember? It will be a while until they arrive. We have plenty of time…” A smile had frozen as well in her lips.

Her mother gave her an absent stare as if she were looking through her. Then she slowly focused on her face.

“Will you do it, dear?” She wiped a lock of greyish hair from her eyes with the back of her hand that was still holding the brush wet with soap water. “It’s really important that everything is ready for when they come… I’m so tired now, imagine that… I could use a cup of tea…” She smiled faintly, dropping the brush in the bucket and holding Susanna’s hands.

“Come, mom, I’ll take you to your room.”

When she came back with the tea, her mother was asleep.

* * *


Faol Mhòr’s coat bristled at the touch of the late afternoon autumn breeze by the time they reached the foot of the western moors. By now he would allow her to ride unsaddled and she just slid to the pebbly ground. She left him grazing by some bushes and walked towards the entrance of the cave.

After what had happened to her mother earlier that afternoon, she felt short of breath and could not bear to stay in the house. As she climbed down the rough stairs carved by time and water in the heart of the earth in a spiral, another note of sadness sank in her own heart as she remembered a happier time when Leo had first showed her the cave and the hot spring beneath the ground.

When she finally got to the rocky parlour and crossed the stone archway that led to the main hall, she could still see remnants of clay sprinkled with seeds, rice and dried flowers from the blessing the wells months ago.

Just a faint beam of the afternoon sun reached the main chamber through the intricate system of mirrored tubes carved by nature, that carried in the light through an opening on the stonewall above the surface. Soon she would need one of the candles they had stashed in a niche on the wall.

She laid down her backpack and spread a woollen plaid on the hard floor with a bath cloth on top of it. She took off her old boots and her clothes and was about to strip out of her underwear when she heard a rattling noise above the sound of dripping water that filled the room. She quickly reached for the towel and wrapped it around her chest. Then she focused in the dusk of the cave.

It was Leo.

She could see his torso above the water line, reddish with the heat, the hot vapour in a halo around his head where it was touched by the dimming sunlight. She could also see his own towel hanging from a spike of rock halfway between them, his clothes in a bundle on the floor beneath. They stared at each other in silence, as he seemed to hesitate, giving a couple of slanted glances at the cloth out of his reach.

Then he finally shrugged and stood up, butt naked, deciding perhaps it was nothing she had not already seen, walked swiftly to get the towel, wrapped it around his waist, picked up his clothes and walked towards the archway in silence.

She realized that she had been holding her breath and sighed.

The she noticed that he had come to a halt by the stone arch, his shoulders moving up and down as he breathed heavily.

They had been avoiding each other since the event at the picnic. It had not been any better, not even since the other event when they had witnessed as Augusta performed her wicked rite. They only talked about work and he often asked her about her mother’s health. But that had been all.

So it came as a surprise when he turned around and looked at her right in the eye, a shade of pain on his face as he clearly made an effort to stay.

“Why?” He asked in the familiar hoarse baritone, yet with a different note that she could not identify.

She knew what he was talking about. Why there, why now, she could not tell. Maybe their being half naked and vulnerable in the warm atmosphere of the cave had unlocked something inside him. She felt as if a hurricane were swirling inside her, so many answers to that single question. Yet she did not know where to begin and remained silent.

“D’ye love him?” The strange note in his voice reached a higher pitch and she recognized it as hopelessness.

She was shocked. Her mouth opened but there was no sound. Then the flood of tears came as if she were not really crying but leaking from her reservoir of tears. She realized that she had not cried since that day alone in the car in the middle of the road. Then her shoulders followed her tears, moving up and down and soon her whole body was shaking.

He dropped his clothes, hands clenched on the rim of the towel around his waist, and walked a step towards her, his face as white as a ghost’s.

“He…” She mumbled and then bent forward as if she had been punched in the stomach.

He walked another step closer, wishing so badly to touch her that it hurt.

She made a painful effort to look at him. Maybe it was her own tears she was seeing as she looked at his face through the curtain of salty water that blurred her eye, but she could swear that tears were rolling down his cheeks as well.

“He drugged me…” Speaking was an ordeal, the eternal hand squeezing her throat. “He was raping me!” She shut her eyes and bent her head up fighting for air.

When she finally opened her eyes again she saw him standing closer, his own eyes shut, his head bent up as if he were fighting for air as well, all the pain of the world on his contorted face. Anger, doubt, realization, shame, she could not tell. Yet tears were definitely rolling down his cheeks as his body shook all over.

He opened his eyes in turn and stared at her, blinking to see through his own curtain of water. He seemed to be making an effort to understand yet he looked horrified as if the realization of the awful truth was too much to bear.

“Bu’ wha’ I saw… Wha’ ye said…” he looked so miserable that she was suddenly as sorry for him as she was for herself.

She drew in a deep breath, trying to pull herself together.

“You were wrong. I know how to lie.” Speaking softly was the only way through the clamp on her throat.

“I dinna understand…” Now he stood only two steps away from her, looking down into her eyes, still alarmed, searching desperately for some sense.

“I lied because you would not believe me. You could not. I don’t understand it myself yet.” Her soft voice was having a soothing effect on her. Tears were falling like a soft rain now and she could breathe in spite of the trembling and the burning pain in her throat and chest.

“Please… just tell me…” He pleaded, a ghostly face as if he were going to pass out.

She drew the deepest breath she could.

“I don’t know what he did or how… All I know is when I opened my eyes it was not him on top of me…” She stopped as if it were too painful to go on.

“Say it woman, for Christ’s sake!” He walked the space between them so their half naked bodies almost touched.

“It was you!” She finally screamed at the last of her strength. “It was you I saw, it was you I embraced, your hair, your scent, it was to you I surrendered!”

He stared at her open-mouthed with the same incredulous look he had just before he left her alone in the car months ago. She remembered it and got it the wrong way.

“I told you! You don’t believe me…” She said in a thread of voice as tears erupted once again and the trembling assaulted her stronger.

“Bu’ I do.” He sighed deeply with a sudden calm, a faint smile on his face. “I do believe ye.”

A wave of sorrow took hold of her as she stared at him in disbelief. He had said the words she had been aching to hear; the words that would heal hear and set her free. But she suddenly realized that it did not matter at all.

“You know, it does not matter.” She said at last, exhausted, defeated, shaking her head, the saddest smile on her face.

“What?!” He looked at her as if she were mad.

“It does not change the fact that I am what I am. I’m a city lass, right?” She kept shaking her head, a cruel smile on her face and a glimpse of the old Susanna in her eyes. “I’ve had more tongues in my mouth and more hands in my body in the last couple of years than probably you in your whole life.” She straightened herself passing one hand on her wet face and through her hair, gathering strength from her old self. “If you’re looking for some pure, untouched virgin you’re looking in the wrong place, my friend.”

He looked at her appalled.

“Is tha’ wha’ ye think?”

She was taken aback all of a sudden when he threw his head and shoulders back and laughed.

“Ye’re such a complicated lass!” He said, shaking his head. “Dinna ye see? I dinna care! ‘Tis ye tha’ I wan’, it always has been!

His reaction had been so unexpected that she had not time to assimilate what he was saying. While a part of her ached to believe her ears, the old instinct of preservation fired an alarm inside her. Rage was the only thing that could protect her from pain. She just could not be hurt again.

“Why, you mean you want a piece of the action too?” The old Susanna fired at him, chin up in defiance.

“Shu’ up, woman! Ye stupid… stubborn… dirty-mouthed…” he finally grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly as his towel slid down to his feet.

“I love ye, damn it!” He kissed her passionately at last.

For a second she kept her eyes open. For a second her mouth resisted. For a second her hands remained clenched holding the rim of the towel against her chest. For a second she did not believe. For a second she still doubted. For a second.

The she abandoned herself with a sigh of relief and gratitude to the demands of her body and his, they which had waited too long for the follow-up to that mute conversation that had began months ago on the roof of the old mill and even earlier on the dance floor on St. George’s or maybe freezing by the lake when they first met.

When she reached for his head it was finally his hair wet between her fingers. She smiled because it was his tongue that danced around the inside of her mouth, his hands on her waist free from the bath cloth that lay on the ground, his fingers that grabbed the back of her thigh pulling her closer. It was his manhood that forced itself against her belly looking for the place in her body where it was meant to be. And it was his lips that encountered no resistance from her brassiere when they searched and found her swollen nipples aching for a suck.

There was no doubt about it now; it was his body that pressed down on hers as they lay on the woollen plaid on the ground. Yes, it was he, she could still see in the dimming light, who went down between her thighs and explored the portal of her hidden cave with lips and tongue while his fingers kept cupped around her breast. She was crying different tears now and trembling at a different pace when she was ready to welcome him inside her.

Then her body tightened a little and she let a slight shriek escape from her lips in spite of herself as he conquered a soft resistance on his way in. He stopped all of a sudden and gently came out. They could not see each other’s face in the dark anymore. He stood up and reached at the niche on the wall lighting a candle and placing it on the usual spot.

He went down on his knees and realized, baffled, that he was covered in her blood.

“What… Why, a bheagan? He shook his head, a questioning look on his face as he watched her suddenly become shy crossing her arms in front of her chest and pulling her thighs together, yet unable to conceal the blood smear on her pelvis.

In silence, he helped her to her feet, picked her up in his arms and walked slowly towards the steaming pond. He got inside still carrying her and sat down in the water placing her in his lap.

Looking at her tenderly, he gently bathed her from head to toes, caressing and kissing her hair, her face, shaking his head once in a while. He gently massaged her neck and shoulders in between soft kisses. She was no loner shy and joined him in their moment of pure intimacy, caressing and kissing him in turn, trying to make up for all the time of misunderstanding. She was amazed that such a huge rough hand could be so gentle as he carefully washed her from her own blood. His member still felt huge and hard throbbing in her palm as she washed him in turn.

Suddenly he grabbed her skull with both hands looking intensely in her eyes, both with a frown and a smile. In silence, he sighed and kissed her on the forehead. After what seemed to be ages, she broke the silence for the first time.

“I love you back.”

Words were not necessary when she turned round to face him crossing her legs behind his back. She grabbed his skull in turn and kissed his face, his eyes, his lips. With a sigh that was both a plead and a demand, he thrust himself inside her with a deep groan and searched avidly for her breasts with hands and lips.

Centuries went by as she felt all the cells in her body wake up and cry with a thirst that could never be quenched. Then she remembered the sensation she had experienced so many times so long ago, by herself in the quiet of the roof of the old apartment in the city. Yes, it was there and yet it was different because now she knew he could feel it too as they slowly carried it to the surface from inside one another, together.

And when it became unbearable they simply abandoned themselves to it, lost in each other’s eyes as the lightning struck their bodies at the same time with a roaring thunder that lingered in the hollow of the cave, above the constant sound of dripping water.

As they lay trembling in each other’s arms she could still enjoy the feeling of wave after wave washing upon her inner shore. Then she was just a little embarrassed when she realized that the sound of thunder had actually been her own scream joined with his.


* * *


They woke up with a shrug at the same time. They had no idea for how long they had dozed. It must have been long because they were both numb from waist down. They looked at each other and smiled with a kiss.

She unwillingly uncrossed the legs that felt as if they belonged to someone else behind his back and swam just a little away from him. With a groan he followed her, stiff from immobility. They went sliding in the warm water stretching their limbs and teasing each other with touches and pushes. When their bodies were fully awake they asked for more. Then they were embraced again in the deeper spot of the pond and he was inside her again and the wave washed them faster, rougher, stronger and they surrendered to it together again as if there were no tomorrow.

* * *


She woke again when the candle sighed its last flicker. She was lying naked holding him with arms and legs on the woollen plaid on the ground of the cave.

He had been awake for a while watching her sleep. Then he kissed her hair and stood up, stretching himself with a groan. She wished there were light so she could see his body again.

He reached at the niche on the wall and lit another candle. Then he went down on his knees still holding the candle giving her a funny look.

“What?” She asked smiling at his quizzical face.

“Time to inspect ‘e damage.” He said with a voice hoarse from lack of use trying to put a serious face yet unable to dismantle a grin.

“What?!” She rose to both elbows with eyes wide open as he leaned forward bringing the candlelight close to her open legs. She laughed her ass off while he went on a thorough inspection of her pelvis and the spot between her thighs. Seemingly satisfied, he stood up, returned the candle to its place and lay beside her, who could not stop laughing.

“’Tis all right.” He said on one elbow kissing both her breasts.

“You’re crazy, you know?” She laughed wiping a tear from her eye.

“For ye, mo bheagan.” He kissed her lips softly.

“I’m not small. “ She caressed his face and chin, the rough stubs tickling her fingers.

“Ah! Since when d’ye understand…?”

“Hmm… I’ve been studying…” She lowered her eyes to conceal her pride.

“To me you are. My little one.” He bent his head down and kissed her and she could tell that he was touched.

He pulled her closer and folded his legs over her thigh, squeezing her with a groan, loosening the tight grip after a while but keeping the embrace.

“Did I hurt ye?” A worried note showed in his voice.

“No. “ And that was true.

“Why did ye lie ‘bout ‘is?” He squeezed her again.

“Hmmm… I never actually lied…” And that was also true.

“Right.” He squeezed her harder. “Bu’ ye were really convincing a’ no’ lyin’…” he kissed her hair softly.

“If you think about it, it really does not make a difference. I mean after all it’s just a tiny spot of flesh…”

“Hummm… So why did ye never go all ‘e way? Ye see, ‘tis a little contradictory…?” he pondered, teasing her a little.

“Well… I guess it never felt the right time. Until today…” She pressed herself against him as if their bodies could merge into one.

“Ye ken I dinna care, aye?”

“I know.”

* * *

It was just as they painfully got dressed unwilling to go that Susanna saw it. By the rocky bank of the pond where a larger stone formed a table on the left side of the hall. A symbol carved on stone, the same one she would trace on a moist windowpane or at every corner of every piece of paper she ever laid a tip of pen or pencil on.

There, flickering by the candlelight, lay the symbol of a swirling circle.


* * *

*end of Chapter Four*

chapter four is done! feedback welcome!

it’s been a great journey. i write every night with a pencil (that provides the physical aspect of it…), often throughout the night until dawn and it feels as if i’m reading a very exciting book. although i’m aware of the storyline, most of the time i don’t know what is going to happen until i write it down.

chapter five is already on paper about to be typed. chapter six is almost done as well. i have planned it until chapter seven and an epilogue. let’s see…

I have to admit to you that this was the first one I read all the way through. Damn, I really liked it and plan to read the others this weekend.

This was my favorite passage.


"This woman, the one who had lied to Leo, was the old Susanna, the heartless shallow bitch who didn’t care about what people thought about her, the wicked cow she knew so well. She crossed her arms on her chest holding her shoulders, her stronger and bolder self hugging this new, fragile one, hoping one could prevent the other from shattering to pieces."

You managed the entire rape/rescue part really well.

hey dea

At the moment I am only half way through but I also like the way you dealt with the rape,


I think this came as a surprise to the reader and I found it disorientated me in a similar way that Susanna was disorientated, which I think was very clever. So far I am enjoying it, will let you know when I get to the end. Well done.

i would be really happy with your comments but what you cheer me for i have not really done, as you probably know by now. it’s funny how you write lyrics to a song or any piece of prose and poetry and a different meaning comes out from the reader. sometimes this new meaning is a scaring one, like the conversation i had last night when a friend told me that last week something frighteningly similar to what i wrote happened to her. though it never came to the dreadful end, she had no one to rescue her. i’m scared of the power of words.