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Ascent to Power	By : Hot4Gerry Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5436 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my original characters.

Chapter Ten
Duel for Honor

Dawn was just breaking. Erik felt the warm fingers of the sun on his face. That was one sensation he would never forget or be deprived of again. He rolled over and groaned when he remembered last nights end. He had not meant to be so harsh but the damn woman had to bring up Christine. Erik had no idea why her name on the lips of others drove him to violence. He had memories of her drifting in and out of his mind every day. They comforted him rather than disturbed him. To hear her sweet name on another’s lips brought out his killing instincts. It was as if he were jealous of even her name crossing the lips of another person. Insanity. An insanity he could not rid himself of and was not sure if he wanted to. All he had of her was his memories, fantasies and dreams.

What dreams he had last night. He grew hard with just the memory. At first everything was wonderful. Christine had come to him as he lay in the swan bed. She had on the white negligee that she wore the first time he took her to his home. This time though she had smiled as she removed that flimsy robe and gown. How he had kept himself from purging his rock hard manhood deep in her willing warmth that night he would never fully understand. He had some idiotic dream of not just fucking her, but making love to her.

In his dream he did both. When he plunged into her that first time he fucked her with wild abandon. She fucked him right back, moaning his name as she reached her climax. The second time he made exquisite love to her. She screamed like a banshee, echoing throughout his cavernous home.

When they had finished she had wanted him to sing to her. He went to the organ and began to play, singing The Point of no Return to her. She had only worn a thin silky robe to the organ when she had joined him. She climbed onto his lap where, big surprise, his cock was standing at attention as she slid down on him. She was groaning and rocking in a rhythm that quickened as they came closer to the moment of completion.

He could still feel her wet warmth surrounding his cock as if it had really happened. His tongue remembered those hard little pebbles of her breasts as he suckled them in his mouth. She had pressed his head into her, eager to have his mouth on her.

Just when Erik had reached another moment close to pouring his seed into her waiting warmth she had looked behind him. She had stopped moving. She stretched out her arms behind his head. When had looked back behind him, God damn if Raoul was not standing there with a smile on his stupid, aristocratic face.

Christine had climbed off him looking into his eyes telling him she was sorry, she loved Raoul. It was not right to fuck him because she loved Raoul. She had fucked him over the night of his opera performance. Now she was fucking him over in his dreams. His dreams and fantasies that had once been what gave him his uncontrolled moments of expulsion during the night now was turning into unsatisfying nightmares where he was left sitting with a hard on and only himself to relieve it. He had said to hell with that method months ago, unless in an emergency. Well there was those moments when he applied his medicines. What was a man to do? He could not go around with a tent in his trousers. Nadir and Darius would begin to suspect he had odd intentions toward them. He was not of that persuasion in any sense.

Erik had begun to think Nadir was correct when he compared Christine to a plague. At least where he was concerned. This obsession clearly was not healthy. He needed to rid himself of this insanity. It was not her. At least not really. He had awoken passion in her without being allowed to reap the benefits. It was him and his damn unreasonable demands on her. There was a darkness in him that would not let go. He needed to find that darkness and cut it out before it consumed him entirely.

He did wish to apologize to Susan. He could send her a gift. Yes a gift. A necklace or bracelet. Every woman loved jewelry. He could send it by messenger. A coward's way out, but he could not face her accusing eyes. They always seemed to look too deeply into his soul leaving him bleeding just a little when he committed some wrong against her. Lately it had been happening all too often. His guilt would pick away at him until he sent his apologies and she sent her acceptance. This time no matter how much his cock wanted to answer her call, he would find one of his mistresses or another willing woman. Women seeking a willing cock along with a talented willing tongue vied for Erik’s attention. He was furtively sought by women who were bored with husbands who only took their own satisfaction without going south of the navel with tongues or fingers.

Erik had pressing business in London. Today would not be a day to linger in his bed contemplating past tragedies and hopes for the future. With a quick flick of his wrist his covers were thrown across his bed. Not taking time to put on his robe or slippers he went into his bathroom and began his morning grooming routine.

Erik had only recently allowed himself to look in a mirror to shave or comb his hair. The face staring back at him had not changed but the eyes looking at that face had a different perspective. For all her faults Susan had given him the confidence to look at his own face in the mirror. If he turned so that only the left side was reflected he looked normal. Not being conceited he thought some might even say he was handsome. Not at all like those silly rumors flying around the opera house all those years. His features were not pleasant but that damn Joseph Buquet had over stated his ugliness.

Every once in a while a memory of a time long ago when he was younger would flit into his mind. Back then he was not quite the debonair fellow he was now. On one of his nights foraging for food in the opera house kitchens he ran afoul of Joseph Buquet. Not knowing much about personal hygiene or cleanliness to be blunt Erik stank worse than a dog freshly rolled in a cow pile. His years in the cage in the Gypsy camp had not given him any reason to care for cleanliness. His cage did not get cleaned regularly. The damn chamber pot spilled every time his cage was hooked up for travel.

Erik had just been on his way to return to his lair with the dinner he had prepared in the opera kitchens. The opera house managers were most gracious to lend him their food and stove until he managed to procure his own. A few threats and his presence was ignored. That night he had warmed leftover chicken, rolls and gravy he made himself. He was becoming quite a good chef through need not inclination.

Suddenly a disgusting man smelling of alcohol and sweat surprised Erik before he could get to his secret passageway. Knowing a scuffle was about to ensue Erik had lain his tray down on the floor and waited for the attack. The darkness hid his features. Only shadowy outlines could be seen. Erik’s eyes used to the dark saw each disgusting and displeasing feature of the man’s face. His breath almost caused Erik to wretch from the stench of foul breath and foul body. Knowing his own body carried the smell of unwashed skin he did not hold that against the man. Perhaps the man had trouble obtaining warm water as Erik did. A dip in the icy lake once a week was as much as he could tolerate. He was working on plans for warming water and fixing a modern bathroom in his chambers. It all took time though and much of his time was taken keeping his managers in line. Now of course there was precious little Christine. He must comfort her each evening so she can sleep. She grieves for her recently deceased father. Madame Giry had told him she was bringing an orphaned child to stay with her.

The man had grabbed Erik and they fought for a bit. Erik being younger and in better physical condition but mostly because he was not hampered by drink, had quickly gotten away from Buquet. Shoving the overweight man to the wooden floor of the corridor Erik had straightened his clothing and looked down at the man on the floor propped up on his elbows looking half dazed up at him. As a lark Erik had picked up his bowl then poured the bowl of gravy on the man’s chest as he lay on the floor trying to recover from being beaten by a boy no more than nineteen. The insult did not set well with the older gentleman.

Years later when Erik took on the persona of the Opera Ghost and sometimes The Phantom of the Opera, Joseph Buquet being a vengeful man started the rumors about Erik smelling like death and having no nose. He may have carried a slightly unpleasant smell but he thought his nose quite attractive. He definitely had the appendage. The insult rankled Erik for many years. In the end Erik had the last laugh as Buquet dangled from his Punjab lasso around his neck as he hung from the rafters. Erik had taken great pleasure watching the life leave that horrible man’s face. The ballet rats were secretly overjoyed at his demise. He had been a peeping Tom and several young girls had accused him of fathering their children. A nasty man met a nasty end. Sometimes life does balance out. Erik enjoyed balancing the scales of justice. Could he help it if at times they tipped just a little in his favor?

Erik was brought back from his introspection by loud voices. It sounded as if there were an argument raging in his sitting room. Not feeling in any mood to cross swords with anyone just yet Erik turned to head to the kitchen for some breakfast. If company was staying he would be having his house keeper Marianne bring his to his room instead of the dining room.

Erik could hear Nadir and Darius speaking frantically in the dining room. He could discern another male voice and a female voice as well. He caught the name Manchester. His steps stopped in mid flight. God he hoped they had not tried to patch things up between him and Susan by inviting her to breakfast. He had just loosened her choke hold from his neck. He did not want a noose to take it’s place.

He recognized Susan's parents when he entered the sitting room. He had not been formally introduced to them but he had seen them at many social functions and Susan had pointed them out to him. He calmly walked through the doorway smiling at the couple. The dark hatred glaring back at him stopped him from taking another step into the room. His hand that had been on it’s way to shake the hand of Susan’s father stayed at his side. The hate was so strong it was almost a tangible wall hitting Erik as he took another step towards his uninvited quests.

The gentleman strode to Erik. Erik did not see or expect the backhanded slap across his face. The red haze of rage clouded his vision. His cheek stung from the force of the blow but his pride stung more. If in that moment he had a weapon he would have a dead nobleman in his home. As it was he had to tighten his hands into fists or strangle the man right before everyone.

"You bastard. It’s your doing. Because of you she's gone. Only last week she visited going on and on about you. How wonderful you were. She told us all about her plans for the future with you. I asked her if you loved her and do you know what she said? She said no not yet but she had enough love for the both of you. Did she tell you she was with child? Ah I see she kept that from you. How does a man live with himself knowing he killed a woman just as if his hand snatched the breath from he body?”"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Susan. Our beautiful daughter. She killed herself last night. Took sleeping tablets. Took her life and yet here you are healthy and unconcerned. The bastard responsible for her death. Here you stand without a care in the world. What are your plans for this day? On this very day I must make arrangements to put my only child in the ground. Susan won’t have another day. We'll never hear her laugh again. Never know the joy of having grandchildren."

Erik had to stiffen his spine to hold himself erect as his knees nearly buckled beneath him in shock. His fault. It was all his fault. his pride would not let them see the guilt he felt or the tears that wanted to be released. Hardening his heart he allowed coldness to seep into his voice when he spoke. He would not show any weakness in front of anyone. Allowing an opponent to see a weakness lead to defeat and pain.

"Susan knew how I felt all along. It was her choice to continue with the affair. I was far from being her first lover." The woman, Erik assumed was Susan’s mother, began to cry. Her sobs touching a part of him he thought long buried. With firm control he squashed those tender feelings down again.

"Erik please. They have just lost their daughter. I think kindness is in order not accusations and blame or excuses for bad behavior."

"Nadir kindly stay out of this. I will not stand by and allow him to place blame on me. Susan was a grown woman. She made her choices. I told her to think before she took this final step. It would seem she ignored my advice."

"You knew the young woman was in peril and did nothing to prevent it? May heaven forgive you Erik for I do not know if I can. How can you be so uncaring for that dear child? She gave you everything and asked for so little in return. How could you be so selfish to satisfy your bodily lusts without thought of procreating? Did you even once consider you could become a father?" Susan’s parents did not speak Persian. Mercifully they knew nothing about Erik’s damning inaction toward the threat to their daughter. Knowing of his callous treatment would only fuel an already tense situation.

"As you are aware I have not had a need for the knowledge to prevent such a thing from happening. Do you honestly think I would want to bring a child of mine into this world?"

Susan's father, growing more agitated by the second, stepped up to Erik and slapped him across his face with his gloves held in his hands then with anger and hate filling his voice said, "I challenge you to meet me in the grove of trees by the lake at the end of your property. The grove of trees shall offer us shelter from prying eyes."

"I have passed the honor of killing you down to my nephew. Susan was more like a sister to him than a cousin. My ill health does not allow me to challenge you and face you myself. I would not stand a chance of surviving the first few moments. My heart would give out. My nephew Stephen has asked to duel in my place. Is this acceptable?"

"Indeed. It will be my honor to take the life of another pompous blueblood."

"Gentlemen there is no need for this brutality. What purpose will be served with another death? Let us show our respect for our loss. You dishonor her with this violence." Nadir was aware he stood little or no chance of changing the outcome but he had to try. In his own country revenge was a daily practice. Men in all walks of life and cultures held the belief of an eye for an eye. The sentiment was universally embraced.

"Tomorrow at dawn. Bring your second and your own witness. You may examine the pistols and have first choice of your weapon."

"How civilized of you. How magnanimous. I shall look forward to the morning with delight." Erik’s mockery covered his guilt. As much as he hated it those damn feelings of remorse were beginning to eat at him. Maybe a bloodletting would chase away his guilt.

"Come Janelle. We have a daughter to bury. Sir, if honor deserts you I hope the guilt of your actions follow you to the grave. Tomorrow at dawn we shall meet again."

Erik and the other two gentlemen watched as the grieving man and woman left them in an accusing silence. Darius excused himself for he knew his anger would get the better of him and he would hurt Erik in ways no man should even know about. It would appear Erik had not changed as much as they had assumed. His heart still had a dark blot covered by his thin layer of civility over the last months to appear he had made progress in forgetting the trauma of Christine.

"Erik in all our years I have never been as disappointed as I am at this moment. Erik I know somewhere deep inside there is still a warm and caring man. Please allow him to resurface. This coldness you have let freeze your heart will in time kill off any soul you have remaining. Please do not meet them tomorrow. Let us begin our plans for our departure. I beg of you Erik. If there is one scrap of humanity please allow this insult to pass. It is not worth another blot on your already putrid soul."

"If you think I am so lost one more man’s blood on my soul will not matter. I will not make promises but I will try to refrain from killing anyone tomorrow. As a courtesy to your wishes I shall use my skills to injure and not kill. As you know these things can not be predicted. All I can do is give my word I will try."

"If you simply did not go there would be no need for worry. I know my words are wasted so I shall say no more and take you at your word. May your god show you more mercy than you show his other children Erik. I shall not go with you tomorrow. I will wait for your return here."

"Such confidence in my skills Nadir. I will do my best not to disappoint your faith in me."

Not having the stomach for more Nadir left Erik on his own to mull over his thoughts. He must make Erik leave this place soon. If he did not get himself killed tomorrow they could leave within the week. Nadir had made enquiries and found passage on a boat leaving from the shipyard on Friday. That gave them four days to pack their clothing. Nadir had found a reputable agent to leave in control of selling off the rest of Erik’s assets.

Erik had already sold many of the bigger enterprises. The cash they would need for travel was in the safe with Erik’s collection of jewels he had stolen from the Shah in Persia. Their identification papers were in order and all would be ready for them to leave.

He would tell Erik this evening at dinner of the plans he had made. With the ever unpredictable Erik Nadir was prepared for any reaction. Even knowing he should leave he would balk at being forced in this way. He liked to think he needed no other soul. Truth be known Erik was the neediest of souls. For all his genius his common sense flew out the window on wings like a bird flying to freedom the moment a simple problem came along. If it did not need careful scrutiny or master planning Erik was baffled. If it involved human emotions other than his own he became stumped for a solution. Erik’s humanity had been curtailed at an early age by an unfeeling mother. The further ill treatment in later years had rendered Erik unable to understand the emotions of others. He rarely showed any tenderness. If he did it was so fleeting as to be thought an error of the observers judgment. Nadir had only ever seen Erik show tenderness to Nadir’s own son and briefly to Christine. With her he was not always kind or gentle and he loved her.

Nadir was sitting in the library reading when he heard the front door slam. Quickly he got up and went to the window. He was just in time to see Erik mount his horse and tear off down the drive. There would be no discussion tonight. Erik had left on one of his night time rides. He would be gone for hours.

Nadir went to his bed with a prayer on his lips for the safety of Erik and the young man brave enough or rather foolish enough to face him at first light. Nadir prayed for mercy for both of the foolhardy men.

Is it wrong to pray for a blizzard in Spring? Perhaps a freak hurricane or typhoon? No that is far too dangerous as is the blizzard. Maybe I could leave some item on the bottom step and he would fall and sprain or break his leg. That does not sound too drastic.

For a brief moment Nadir gave serious consideration to this solution. If he thought he could accomplish it without Erik breaking his neck he just might be brave enough to do it. Then again even if he succeeded in stopping the duel there was not one thing to prevent Erik from stretching Nadir’s neck with his blasted lasso once he had recovered. Best to leave things in the hands of Allah.

Erik awoke long before he needed to be leaving for his appointment with the young man. He sat by the window in his bedroom holding his sword in his hands. His thoughts were turned to the last time he had dueled. He and Raoul had been faced off in a duel to the death. Their swords had struck the stone monuments causing sparks to shoot off the stone.

At one point Erik thought he had the upper hand. He had drawn first blood. In his madness and overconfidence he had slipped on a sheet of show covered ice. He had lost his grip on his sword and Raoul had been a hairs breath from running him threw. If Christine’s sweet plea for mercy had not come Erik would not be sitting here about to face another young blueblood.

Erik recalled how Raoul’s eyes looked in that moment when the tip of Raoul’s sword hovered over Erik’s heart. The fire of hatred and victory had blazed in the young boy’s eyes. In that moment he was not so different. He and Erik at that moment had the same lust for blood in equal measure. He would have gladly taken Erik’s life if Christine’s voice of sanity had not reached him just in time.

Erik had seen the struggle to control the inner monster of revenge. That particular fearsome beast visited Erik often. For one second Erik had thought Raoul would not heed Christine’s plea. Determination and resolve had flashed into his face aging the boy beyond his years. Hate did that to a person. It took away all innocence. For that brief fleeting moment Raoul was no better than Erik. Raoul’s insanity fled as quickly as it came whereas Erik’s remained to lead him to destroy almost all that he loved.

Erik sighed heavily. He had no stomach for what he was contemplating. Hell he did not even know the young man he would be trying to kill. No wrong doing had been committed by the young man. Erik wondered what dark forces were always at work to keep his soul so dark and twisted. Why could he not be as a normal men? Why did bloodshed always follow in his footsteps?

Erik laid his sword down beside him on the window seat. He picked up the tumbler of amber liquid and downed it in one swallow. He picked up the carafe from the floor at his feet and poured another generous serving into his tumbler. He quickly downed that as quickly as the first. One more tip of the carafe and he stood holding the tumbler looking into the dark amber liquid as if the answers to the world’s problems could been seen in the depths of the brandy he held. Downing the drink he laid the tumbler down and picked up his sword and the spare for his opponent. His steps were heavy as he left his room and went down the steps and out the front door. He would much rather be sitting at his piano playing one of his compositions or composing a new one. He did not feel much like delivering anyone into the Angel of Death’s arms today. If his skills were adequate, as he was sure they were, he may be able to save the young man’s life but still give him the satisfaction of knowing honor had been served. Personally Erik saw no honor in the attempt to take a life just because of some supposed slight or insult. Or at least not since his madness had overtaken him during his reign at the opera house. Now he was much more…he paused in his thinking trying to think of fitting words to describe his new mental status. Lenient, tolerant and calm. Yes, those words fit his new ideas perfectly.

He had thought to strangle Susan but in reality he would not have given into the impulse. A little threat to frighten her was all he had intended. At least that was what he had convinced himself of during the long night of regret over his cruel handling of Susan. He regretted his actions in retrospect. Not leaving her but the manner he chose to tell her of his departure and his unsympathetic attitude toward her distress.

A more fitting revenge to met the need to satisfy honor would be to take away all the other person held dear. If the young man were intelligent he could have challenged Erik in the financial arena and avoided this unnecessary violence. With each passing day Erik was finding he had no longer had a taste for shedding another’s blood.

Nadir and Darius watched him leave from the dining room windows. Both men wore expressions of sadness. Nadir knew almost with a certainty that Erik would return. His skills were too honed to perfection to lose to an amateur. From the account Erik had given of his duel with Raoul a lucky slip had given Raoul the advantage that day. Luck would not be with the man today as there was no slippery ice or snow. The sun had even decided to shine it’s rare rays of light the last two days. The ground was dry with no mud in sight.

Erik arrived at the appointed meeting to find Susan’s father and his nephew already waiting. Erik smiled with derision. The young man was so eager to draw his blood. Erik almost hated to disappoint him. Erik wanted this ended quickly. He had brought two swords with him. With pistols he had less chance of aiming a weakening blow without killing the opponent. With the sword he could give injuries that would hurt like hell and incapacitate the recipient but would not take the life of his quarry. They either dueled with swords or both would leave without honor being satisfied.

"Monsieur Manchester. Lovely day today. It is a shame to spill blood on such a beautiful morning. If you continue to insist on this action I shall oblige you. One stipulation to our duel. Since I have been challenged it is my prerogative to choose the weapon is it not?"

"Of course honor demands you have the choice of weapon."

"I have brought two swords. Your second may have first choice of weapon. Examine them. Pick them up and hold them if you like. Both are superior weapons."

The young man stepped forward. He looked boldly at Erik before picking up the first weapon. He took a couple of swipes with it then did the same with the other sword. Having chosen one he stepped back waiting for Erik to take his stance and the gentleman who had been brought along to officiate to signal the start of the duel.

Erik was sizing up his opponent. He could be no more than twenty. He handled the weapon with the ease of familiarity. Perhaps this would not be as easy as Erik had first thought.

Both men took their places. A hush came over the meadow as if nature knew the battle that was to commence within the next few second. Even the wind seemed to quiet. Not one leave blew or blade of grass rustled in the breeze. The bird’s calls were silenced. It seemed nature hushed and held silent waiting for the two foolish humans to commence this barbaric battle. Nature waited in silent judgment of this unnecessary impending violence in such a beautiful representation of God’s most wonderful creations. This place should hold only beauty. No blood should be spilled to mar this peaceful place. God’s wonderful gift should be held in reverence, not defiled by bloodshed. Ah, but human nature being what it was nature and God would be forgotten in the next moment in the battle for life or death.

The two men faced each other. They turned and saluted the official waiting for his signal. With a look at each man the white haired official raised his hand then swiftly let it fall. The two combatants circled one another looking for an opening. They touched blades. The steel clanged loudly in the stillness. The battle was on. Strike after strike the swords clashed. Neither opponent able to get the upper hand. Sweat began to fall from each man’s face and their shirts soon became soaked with perspiration.

As if the sky shed tears for the folly of man a gentle rain began to fall. Lightening flashed from the suddenly darkening sky. Thunder rumbled a threatening roar. Lightening flashed menacing fingers of light across the sky. The angry sound of the rumbling and flashes of lightening gave proof to nature and God’s end of patience with the foolishness of man. The ground became puddled with droplets of water. Boots began to slip on the wet ground.

Each man parried then retreated. Both seeking a weakness in the other. Neither one found any opening to land that death blow. Both men were tiring. The victory it seemed would go to the one who had the best endurance. Erik was older by fifteen years but he was very fit. The young man was healthy but unused to prolonged exercise lasting more than twenty minutes. His most strenuous exercise was walking from his home to the night’s entertainment in London, not more than a couple blocks away form his home.

Erik let his attention wander for one moment to Susan's father. The man looked unwell. His skin was grayish and he clutched his chest as if in pain. That momentary lapse was all Jaime needed. He thrust his sword into Erik’s shoulder. He had wanted to strike dead center but had to be satisfied with a severe wound to the shoulder. Erik felt the blade enter his flesh tearing into muscle as it surged deep in his shoulder. The searing and burning pain knifed through him taking his breath for a moment. Blood quickly soaked Erik’s white shirt. The rain washed away each drop only to be replaced by more droplets of that precious life giving liquid. A few minutes and he felt the weakness and dizziness start to overtake him. He felt another blaze of fire shoot into his left arm as the sharp blade slice through the flesh of his arm. Erik staggered back trying to regain a solid foothold to balance himself and take a cleansing breath into his burning lungs. Seeing another opportunity to inflict damage Jaime lunged forward and sunk his blade into Erik’s upper thigh. The young noble was going to damn well pick him to pieces at this rate. Erik had to end this. He had no intentions of dying in this Godforsaken country and done in by a boy of noble blood no less. If his father was the Devil he would turn him away in shame.

Then where would I end up? Heaven shut its pearly gates on me a long time ago. God forbid I be cursed to roam this earth throughout eternity. As much as I deny a god having domain over me I surely do think upon him a great deal. I wonder if my thinking is hindered by my wounds? I must not be going to die for I see no hellish moments from my life passing before me. Sorry to disappoint you young Jaime but I will not die today and as for you father of darkness I will not come home tonight. Erik will live another day.

Using the last of his strength he volleyed several quick thrusts. He kept advancing not giving the young man a moment to recover from the previous strike, forcing him back a step at a time. Relentlessly moving forward. The clang of metal striking rang out echoing in the stillness around them. Flashes of sparks could be seen at times when metal struck metal. Erik advanced forcing Jaime to stagger backwards fending off the increasingly severe blows. Erik’s strikes were harder and quicker. Each volley driving his opponent backwards. At last he saw his opening. He thrust the sharp blade into the young man’s thigh. When he fell to the ground Erik gave a final stab to his arm holding the sword. The sword fell from young Jaime’s now useless hand. He fell to his knees hitting the ground jarring his body with the painful contact of ground to knees. Erik kicked the sword away and kept his aimed at the man’s throat. Slowly the young man raised his face looking boldly at Erik with not one ounce of fear in his face. All Erik saw was resignation. An acceptance of his inevitable death. Shakily he got to his feet holding his hand over the wound in his arm balancing on his uninjured leg.

Erik could only admire the young man‘s proud stance. He would die with honor if that is what Erik chose. Erik did not want another life on his conscience. His soul had been blackened with too many deaths already. “It’s over. Honor has been served. Your death would serve no purpose. There is no dishonor in your loss. You fought valiantly. Do you accept this Monsieur?” Not wanting to see his nephew die Susan’s father nodded his head in acceptance of Erik’s victory and gracious gift of his nephew’s life.

Erik’s body began to shiver with cold. He stiffened his back in an effort to control the shivering. The loss of blood combined with the soaking from the rain began to chill him to the bone. He would be lucky if he did not bleed to death or get an infection from all the mud caking his body.

Damn rain could not hold off for a few more minutes. That is sadly the story of my life. Even the heavens work against me. Well, damn you God and your constant denial of mercy for me. I won this battle even with you pitting your holy countenance against me. If ever there is to be forgiveness on either of our parts I would hope for that mercy now. I did not kill when I could so easily have given into my darker urges. That alone should count for something; earn me a certain amount of favor.

All his life Erik had a constant battle raging inside him. The ill treatment he had received his whole life conditioned his first response to be one of attack and defend. From even his earliest memories he could still see images of his mother with her fist drawn back then feel the jarring pain in his head. His mother’s anger stemmed from having a deformed son who drove her husband from the house. His father could not accept this child of both heaven and hell as his son. Later it was the Gypsies who beat him mercilessly on a daily basis, then it became everyone he met. He had been treated with cruelty for so long it had been all he came to expect out of life and he responded accordingly.

With one last bow to both gentlemen Erik got back on his horse. He was unsure he could make it back but he’d be damned if he’d let them see him weak. Pulling into the saddle made the blood flow more freely from his wounds. Once in the saddle he wheeled the horse toward home and kicked him in the side. The fast pace would jar him and hurt like hell but if he did not get this attended to soon he would have need of a mortician rather than a doctor.

Erik arrived back at his estate and immediately Nadir and Darius came to his aid. They must have been have been seated by the windows to arrive so quickly from inside the house. Each wrapping one of his arms around their shoulder they carried him upstairs then laid him down on his bed. Darius went for hot boiling water, needle thread and a large dose of brandy for Erik. Nadir could stitch him up in no time at all.

Nadir helped Erik strip out of the clothing covering him from shoulder to waist. The wounds already had dark bruising forming around the opening in the skin. Blood still seeped out and ran downward soaking his pants in blood also.

"Before you ask Nadir I will not remove my trousers in front of you. That is one pleasure I will reserve for my women friends only. Cut the damn leg off the pants if you have to. I can change later."

Nadir grabbed a pair of scissors from the kit Darius had brought. Since living with Erik they kept such a kit assembled at all times. Erik winced when Nadir cut the leg off his trousers. Not so much from pain. It was more the fact that these had been his favorite pair. "Erik I must know. Is there a young man’s body in the meadow growing cold as we speak?

"His body grows cold only if he is too ignorant to get out of the rain. I myself hurried home to get out of the drizzle. By the way thank you so much for asking about my welfare. I do not think the drenching from the rain will do me in but the holes in my flesh are another matter. If it is not to much to ask, would you kindly stitch me back up?"

Later looking at the wounds Nadir commented, "You will hardly know you were ever stabbed. The little nick on your arm does not require stitching. A bandage will suffice. There will not be much scarring on your shoulder or leg."

"Thank God Nadir. Quick bring me a mirror. I simply must assure myself my handsome features remain the same. With my good looks one scar on my shoulder and leg would be so horrendous. This handsome face would go to waste. The hundreds marring the flesh on my back hardly count but this little thing on my shoulder is too cruel to contemplate. Why I’m quite sure it could destroy my love life. Thanks to your skill I may still be able to bed a wench now and again. Just to illuminate the obvious to you that “nick“ in my arm almost ran clear through and hurts like hell."

"I am happy to see your humor, such as it is, has been restored. Seriously Erik this could have ended badly. You were lucky. I hope this will be the last time I have to use my skills for your benefit."

"You remember I likened you to a vampire? Well I have revised my opinion. I have recently started reading a book by a lovely woman, Mary Shelley. The book is titled Frankenstein. I do not liken you to the monster description of the man but the stitching of various parts is quite similar. The character is put together by a mad doctor."

"Nadir does this mean that every time you read a new book you will find a resemblance to me in the male character? If so, perhaps you could read a romantic tale with a dashingly handsome hero. I would not mind that comparison. So if I am the monster,” he hesitated a moment at the sour look Nadir shot in his direction then continued, “if I am the creature created by the doctor in this tomb of terror does that mean you are the mad Dr. Frankenstein? I am familiar with the book Nadir. I take no offence as I thought the same when I read the book. You have sewn me back together countless times. At times I fear I will slip a stitch and all your handy work will come unraveled leaving a trail of parts as I walk along.."

"Erik you have a gruesome mind. If you were to ever put pen to paper and write fiction I shiver to think what your tales would entail. Please let this be the last time I piece any of your body parts together. The next time you may not be so fortunate. I have no plans in the future of becoming a doctor so I will leave that profession to the younger men."

"Nadir one would get the impression you care for my welfare."

"I do you ungrateful wretch. You take no care in these matters. Someone must keep watch and be ready to act. By the way, just to inform you of a matter I have taken upon myself to handle, we leave for America on Friday. No objections. No discussions. No arguments. I have made most of the arrangements. The tickets for our passage I purchased weeks ago. What is left to arrange can be done by the man I hired to handle your affairs after we leave. Some things I know you wanted to keep as an investment. Those are taken care of. The rest has been liquidated or in the process of being sold."

"I…," That was as far as Erik got before Nadir interrupted him.

"I said no objections, no discussions, no arguments. My word is final. I will stand firm on my decision. That’s the end of it. Final."

"Nadir I was only going to thank you for your assistance and your help. No need to jump down my throat. I think I hear your womanly ways returning. You get bossier with each passing year. I know I can be slightly difficult" …Erik paused as Nadir gave an uncharacteristic snort. Scowling in Nadir‘s direction Erik continued, "As I was saying I know I am slightly, just the slightest bit difficult at times. You have put up with my rare moods and tantrums. I am grateful and I do thank you."

"Rare tantrums and moods? Erik a white rhino is rare. A blue moon is rare. A perfect pearl is rare. I must get you a dictionary. The meaning of rare has escaped you. Nothing about you is rare except perhaps your good temper and appreciation of others. Now that is a rarity."

Erik hesitated a moment taking Nadir‘s words seriously totally missing the sarcasm. “Nadir as you well know I have not had much experience with the gentler emotions so I am not versed in how to express or receive these more tender moments. I really do feel privileged to be allowed to call you friend. Without you God knows where I’d be. Sometimes I find I can not do it alone anymore. I have grown used to having your tough old hide around.”

"Now who is the old woman? For one moment I heard the tearful strains of a violin. Was that a sentimental thank you? An admission of needing someone? Perhaps I should get a pen and paper." He patted his pockets as if those items could be found there.

"Wait while I get my journal. This must be recorded for posterity. The great all knowing, all seeing Erik has admitted to needing and wanting help. I think we should start to worry because I fear hell has just frozen over."

The tension between the men lessoned to a degree. The friendship was on the mend. Soon the disagreement and anger would be but a memory tucked away and never brought to light again. Such was the relationship of these men with three different personalities. Personalities that strangely complimented and meshed forming a strong bond. A bond somewhat like the bond of family members. Not related in any way or family in the accepted sense of the word but family none the less.

For Erik it was hard to accept that he had family so in his twisted mind he only had close friends. Two close friends. Friends he would lay his life on the line for or go to any lengths to please and seek approval. Never would he openly admit such a thing but it was understood and silently accepted. The sentiment was returned by his two companions. Given Erik’s insecurity most of the time he had his doubts of their friendship. He felt he was more a reluctantly shouldered burden.

As is the case in families not all is smooth and agreeable all the time. Faults were acknowledged and overlooked. Transgressions were forgiven and forgotten. Time was a great healer of wounds both physical and mental. By the time Erik and his companions were on a ship once again slicing through the deep waters of yet another ocean civility had returned between the men.

Before he lift Erik journeyed to the place where Susan was laid to rest. He wanted to play the requiem he had written for Susan. He stood by the freshly turned earth. He smiled at the large angel standing guard over her resting place. She would have laughed at the irony of that last gesture of her parents. Parents who had considered her a promiscuous lost soul in life.

Personally he knew she would be in heaven if there was such a place. What kind of god would deny her entrance for a momentary act of misjudgment. Her other sins were no more than what others committed daily. She should not be condemned into an eternity on hellfire and darkness.

Setting the case down he flipped open the clasps. He lifted out his violin to his shoulder then rested his chin on it and began to play. At first the notes were pure sorrow and melancholy. The last mournful note drifted into the silence around him. Susan would want no mournful tunes played for her. This first piece was for Erik and his regret. This was to express his sorrow for his part in the tragedy.

The second piece was pure joy. the last note died away leaving an eerie silence in this place of resting souls. Erik dropped to his knees bowing his head in sorrow. He had not known he was crying until he felt the splash of a tear on his hand. Seeing that tear the dam broke. His shoulders began to shake with the force of his sorrow. He begged desperately for her to forgive him.

A gentle warm breeze began to stir. the air moved around him as if warm fingers caressed him. for just a moment he would swear he smelled her favorite perfume. Just for a few seconds then it was carried away. With his head bowed and his eyes closed he could swear he heard the words tickle his ear "I forgive" hen all was silent.

Looking upward he saw blue sky with wisps of white clouds floating by. suddenly he saw a lone white feather gently floating down toward him. He sat silently watching that feather float all the way down until it came to rest on his hand. Carefully he grasped the feather between his fingers. He smiled. Looking up once more he murmured softly, "Thank you."

He gently tucked that feather in the pocket of his vest. Erik carried that feather until the day he died. Long after he had forgotten about Christine's ring he carried that single white feather.
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Ascent to Power