Bladed Wings Read online

  Chapter 1

  A chair scraped back along the floor boards, and the sound of boots started up the corridor. I raced back to the room that I shared with my sister, not wanting to be caught eaves dropping on my mother. Not that I thought she would scold me, but I knew that neither she nor Mr Jenkins, one of my fathers friends, would want me to hear about her deteriorating mental state. I peeked my head around the door just as he rounded the corner, his face softened into a smile as he walked past my room but the rest of his body remained tense. He stopped to briefly squeeze my shoulder before disappearing into my fathers study, closing and locking the door behind him.

  A telegram arrived the next morning, Mr Jenkins gave it to mum to read then came up to the roof were Linda and I were enjoying the early summer heat.

  “Those berries look good Lill,” He said coming to sit on an upturned crate, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

  “Yes, they should be ready to pick any day now,” I replied wiping my hands on my pants. “Can you pass me that watering can please,” I asked gesturing to the large red can beside him.

  “I’m afraid this isn’t a social call girls,” he said looking at his hands. “I have both good news and bad news. No use tip toeing around the point, you may have noticed that your mother is having difficulty coping with the loss of your father. Well unfortunately she is not in a fit state to work at the moment and the money your parents have saved over the years is running low and she can’t afford to pay the rent here much longer.”

  I watered the rose bush I had been trimming and came and sat on the concrete next to him. He looked down at me with a strained smile and lay one of his large sun weathered hands on my shoulder.

  “Yesterday I wrote to your grandmother,”

  “Don’t see how that’s going to help,” snapped Linda, not looking up from the book she was reading.

  “Well, she has suggested that you all go and live in the family house,” He continued ignoring Linda’s comment. “We both think that the country air will do her some good.”

  I looked around at my garden and thought about what this meant. I would have to leave my friends, my school, not to mention Mr Jenkins and the other shop owners that had been as big a part of my life as any of my own friends.

  “I guess it won’t be so bad. A few weeks in the country, it will be like a holiday,” I said leaning over to pluck a caterpillar off the pot of strawberries.

  “You just don’t get it do you!” Spat Linda snapping her book shut and flipping her long blonde plat over her shoulder, “Its not for a holiday, it’s for good, right?” She asked turning to face Mr Jenkins.

  “That’s right Linda,” he said, frowning slightly. “You will be moving there permanently. Your grandmother is quite wealthy and will be providing you with a staff and covering your living expenses for as long as you need it,” He sighed and shook his head. “I will be sorry to see you both go, but this is the only way that we can ensure that you are cared for properly. There will be a cook, and maids, and a gardener.” He added, his tone softening a little even under the weight of Linda’s accusing glare. “It will be good for you, all of you.”

  I sat a while longer in my garden listening to the people in the street below us. Mr Jenkins had followed Linda inside to help get our things together.

  We left the next morning at 5am, hoping to beat the heat. The sky was a dull grey threatening rain which I could smell faintly on the wind.

  The sky grew darker rather than lighter as we drove through the deserted streets and soon the rain begun to fall lightly, making the dust on the windscreen smear.

  The scenery changed slowly, like a film rolling past the window. A cityscape of concrete buildings and pavement, to small farms and dotted shops then finally nothing but rolling green hills.

  I heaved a sigh as I looked out of the rain-streaked window at the paddocks rolling past. I had tried to talk to Linda then mum in turn but Linda was still sulking about having to leave school and Mum had grown silent as we got further away from our old lives.

  “Halfway my darlings,” said mum with a vague smile as we passed a mob of sheep on the side of the road.

  The road turned to dirt and I was forced to push up the window and switch the air conditioner for a respite from the heat. The rain never reached more than a fine drizzle and finally stopped but left a muggy dampness in the air making me sweat and sticking my skin to the torn leather of the seat.

  Nearly five hours passed since we had left the city before we arrived at a small town which was the nearest town to our new home being nearly an hours walk. Children played in the street with their mothers sitting close by under brightly coloured umbrellas. People turned to watch as we drove by pointing and craning around to get a better look at us. As we passed down the street I knew I wasn’t going to find any friends with these people.

  With the town out of sight my mood improved as we passed large groups of trees and open fields. Our new house was thrown into view as we rounded the vast green of the woods that bordered the property. It was a large stone building that was two stories at the front and extended back further than I could see from the driveway. We pulled up and I prised myself up out of the car. The driveway was covered in muddy puddles making it impossible to navigate the path to the door without getting my feet wet.

  The house was very old fashioned, large stone bricks, curling ivy and ornamental gardens.

  I walked up the stone steps to the door that had a gold plaque reading ‘Les Belagor'.

  "Our house has a name," I said quietly to myself. "Well we are going to have to live together for a time Mr Belagor, I hope we will come to be friends." I pulled on the brass handle. A deep groan issued from the hinges sounding almost like a sigh of relief as I eased it open and slipped through.

  Clouds of dust rose with each step; the air was old and stale. A hand grasped my shoulder making me jump.

  “Here, mum said that we aren’t to go far, she wants to get the bags out before we have lunch.” Linda said before disappearing through a door to the left.

  I was standing in a large marble entryway. A stairway led up in front of me, tapering towards the top. The railing was rough in patches and cobwebs covered the banisters. At the top was a long hallway lined with wooden doors and large, gold framed portraits. Judging by their clothing some dated back to the 1700’s.

  Mum called out for me from below to come and help with the bags, I wanted to explore more but I resigned myself to cleaning for at least the rest of the day.

  That night as I lay in the tent listening to Linda snore I could hear the sounds of the night animals that floated across from the forest on the wind. At one point I thought that I heard music but was too tired to get up to have a look. I knew that I would need my sleep if tomorrow was going to be half as bad as today, we had cleaned until the light failed than went to the tent that mum had pitched. I closed my eyes and let the sounds of faint laughter on the midnight wind carry me off to sleep.

  The next morning it took me a few minutes to properly wake up, I’m not exactly a morning person. Linda was still snoring away, mum was up already but strangely had left her shoes out side the tent. I glanced around, thinking that she might have just gone off to relieve herself behind a tree as we hadn’t managed to get the toilet to work yet.

  Not seeing her, I went for a look inside finding that the soft glow of the morning light hadn’t improved the gloom of the cold rooms in the least. I grabbed a stale biscuit from our food box in the kitchen before making my way upstairs to look around before Linda woke up. I decided finding a bedroom was the logical mission for the morning, so I set about investigating the many rooms and corridors the house contained.

  The first room on the second floor was a broom cupboard; with a di
rty mop bucket and broken mop handle in it.

  In the next few rooms I found a bathroom, study, another cupboard, two empty rooms, one of which had a large tapestry of a sword wielding man up a tree on it, and assorted creepy crawlies. I fetched a fly swat before continuing up to the next floor, I really hated bugs.

  The corridor curved at the end suggesting that the house was larger then was visible from the driveway. An old green carpet striped the middle of the floor edged by dark wooden floorboards. Instead of portraits lining these walls there were full-length windows on one side and large oak doors along the other. I peered out the windows as I walked, seeing only distorted shadows of colour through the dust. I looked into one of the rooms about halfway along and found that it was a fully furnished study complete with leather bound tombs and a twisted oak desk overlooking the room. I stopped to browse the titles, which were a pleasing range of texts including gardening, medical and a large range of history and science books and more unusually books on witchcraft and sorcery.

  I pulled down several books and placed them on the table to read later.

  I continued down the hall where I found a large bedroom with green drapes and darker green carpet, but only a metal frame for a bed.

  The neighbouring room was more promising containing a four-poster; draped with maroon curtains and a red embroidered quilt.

  Brushing past the wardrobe I discovered a silver backed mirror upon a dresser, it puzzled me as to why the owner could need a hand mirror when the dresser contained its own, larger version. A wobbly image of a young, rather dirty girl with messy brown hair stared back at me from the mirror. I tried for a moment to control my curls before giving in and releasing them from the hair band to fall around my shoulders.

  A ray of sun flinted through the window illuminating a sagging couch with pillows scattered around it on the floor.

  Noticing a door at the far end of the room I attempted to open it but found it had warped with the damp. I gave it a few shoves with my shoulder easing it open enough to slip through. This was one time that I was thankful to be small. I had no hips or a chest to speak of yet and my figure was very slight. Mum called it pinched, but I didn’t mind, I could always get into small but great hiding places when we played tag at school.

  Inside the room smelled of damp, there was a bath with clawed silver feet and had a pile of tubs and scrubbing brushed stacked in the corner behind a wooden screen. I wasted no time in scratching a sign in the dust on the door reading ‘LILLY’S ROOM!’

  The rest of the house would have to wait I decided, this room needed some intense cleaning and airing before it was fit to sleep in.

  “Right, any bug, spider, fly, cockroach, sssnake, bat, gremlin or other creature that happens to be calling this room their home should now leave. I have a fly swat and I’m not afraid to squish each and every one of you,” I glared around the room, hoping to intimidate them. Nothing moved, not that I had expected them to all get up and go out together, after all they were just bugs, but I propped the window open a crack to let anything out that chose very wisely to leave.

  I begun by cleaning the bathroom as I knew that by the end of the day I would definitely need a bath. There was mould on the walls, mould on the roof and mould on the floor. I almost slipped on a mound of moss as big as my head. Arming myself with a mop, the crappy broom and a wooden spoon I began the assault. The tap water was brown at first so I left it to run for a few moments until it turned a healthier, slightly misty, water coloured hue then proceeded around the bathroom.

  Linda came looking for me once the sun was fully up with some lunch.

  “Have you seen mum yet today?” I asked her, hanging over the bath as I scrubbed out the drain hole.

  “She was wandering down around the woods when I got up. I think she’s getting worse you know. When I went down to see her she was talking to a tree.”

  I poured a glass of water down the plughole as I chewed my bottom lip. I knew that mum would not get better over night, but I had hopped that she would begin to show some signs of improvement without the noise and rush of the city to worry her.

  I sat and ate my lunch with Linda on the couch, making a list in my mind of what I still had to do. It would take me most of the day to clean up this room, then if mum was up to it, we could get to work on the kitchen so that we could have a hot meal for dinner.

  Linda dusted off her hands than straightened her dress, giving my loose fitting shirt and torn leggings a disapproving look. Linda was older than me by nearly three years having turned 18 last month and was considered quite the beauty. She had inherited her looks from mum, the fair skin that was never left unprotected in the sun and her long strait blonde hair, always worn in a braid, made her the envy of every girl we met. I on the other hand I had inherited dad’s untidy brown curls and olive skin, we were both the same height about 5'6 but Linda had stopped growing and I had grown nearly two inches so far this year which had made me look skinnier than I really was. I was always envious of her curves though, my body was the straight up and down kind, mum assured me that I would fill out soon I had decided on my last birthday that I could wait, being small suited me just fine for now. The only thing that suggested that we were related were our pale blue eyes, so pale that they lost their colour when we were tired or sick, turning nearly white and frightening every one of our doctors when we were young.

  I smiled and wiped my dirty hands on my pants just to vex her, than tying my curls under a scarf as they had managed to creep out again.

  By dinnertime the room was finally clean, except for the windows which were still caked with dirt but without a ladder I had no hope of reaching them to clean them properly so I left them for when we got our cleaners.

  I went down the hall to get some clean sheets out of the bag in the kitchen and bring the quilt in from outside where it had been airing. Outside I ran into Linda again, her and mum had been cleaning the entry and first floor hallway. It looked incredible. The floor was polished dark wood, with a faded strip down the centre that suggested a carpet runner used to belong there like the one on the floor above.

  “I see you have claimed your room already,” Linda remarked as we walked down the hall, “I have the first one on the same floor and mum is around the corner in the master bedroom. There are about five other bed rooms that I have found so far but mum said that we should all be on the same floor for now.” We had reached her room and she promptly shut the door behind her without letting me look inside. I just shrugged and headed back to the study to start on the books I had found yesterday.

  The next morning I was the first up as usual. I staggered down to the kitchen and sat at the old wooden table munching on some dry toast that I cooked on the rather dirty oven.

  Suddenly there was a tremendous crash and the kitchen shook.

  I spun around to find a man standing in the kitchen doorway.

  “Who are you? What are you doing in here!” he demanded framed by the sun shining behind him making him visible as no more than a black mass.

  I jumped out of my seat so fast I knocked it over and ran to hide behind the stove.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. Just tell me what you are doing in this house,” he repeated his voice a little quieter but no less firm

  “Lilly,” I managed to stutter out.

  “You still haven’t answered my question, what are you doing in this house?”

  “I live here. And you have no right to sneak up on people like that,” I said coming out from behind the stove feeling braver as he stepped forwards out of the shadow and I could see him better. He was a little over six foot and looked to be in his early twenties. He had broad shoulders and his arms and hands were tanned and callused making me think that he was no stranger to hard labour. He had smooth olive skin and short black wavy hair, a breeze swept past him through the open door bringing the scent of ocean air off his body. I wondered what a baysider was doing this far inland, most fishermen would rather be ship wrecked than leave the c
oast. Despite the smell of salt water he did not look like a fisherman, nor did he have the stink of fish that was nearly impossible to get out of their skin after years of handling it. He was dressed simply enough in a simple white shirt over dark leather breaches and sturdy hand made boots which looked expensive.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he continued, stepping into the room, the corner of his mouth curved into a slight smile making his green eyes sparkle. “You must be Lady Anne’s daughter, Miss Amaris, correct?”

  “Yes, but only grandmother calls me Amaris, everyone just calls me Lilly. So you’re the caretaker are you? I didn’t know that mum had hired anyone yet.” I bent and picked up the chair I had nocked over but didn’t sit down again.

  “Madam Elliza, your grandmother, hired me. She has also hired a cook who will be arriving shortly. The cook, Jacqueline, will also be selecting the remainder of the homes staff over the next week. Madam Elliza did not tell me when you would be arriving which was why I was surprised to see anyone here. I am sorry that I startled you, but if you don’t mind I would like to get started on the cleaning.”

  With out waiting for a reply he went to the cupboard on the far side of the room and pulled out a cloth dampening it at the sink, than went to fetch the broom from the entry.

  I followed at a distance whilst he cleaned. Mum didn’t seem too surprised to see him there, simply going about her work with a glazed look in her eyes, I tried not to watch her as it made me feel edgy to see her like that. Her pale hair and sun dress were as neat and tidy as always but her face was blank like her mind was a million miles away.

  The man looked very out of place as he worked his way through the house I decided after watching him for a while, he was defiantly a man who belonged outdoors. I imagined him as a hunter in a large forest as I sat watching him from my place on the bottom step in the front hall. I could picture a bow slung over one shoulder and a dead rabbit for his dinner in the other, dirt smeared on his cheek, I smiled thinking about the wild woods surrounding him. When the clock in the hall struck the hour the noise woke me from the daydream to find that he was watching me. I felt myself blush, hoping that he didn’t notice I quickly resumed cleaning the cobwebs from the banister which was what I had been pretending to do whilst I followed him. When I chanced a look over at him again he was busily washing the windows.