Oktoberherausforderung 2004 von Maike 

This story is a particular nonsensical one, as it is a gothic tale, so don’t look for too much logic in it. I bade no one to translate it because all the lyrics are english and it would not do to translate them. They don’t fit the time either. The poems used are from: Kipling, Keats, Coleridge and Tennyson.

The Night before all Saints Day – a gothic tale

I wonder who his cloak would turn,
When Puck had led him round,
Or where those walking fires would burn –

Was it correct to say that anything began with the capitain in the barrel? No it wasn’t. Because by the time when Captain de Cavoyes was found in the applevine barrel things were already in motion, even as the unhappy finding of the Captain in the barrel, was quite near the beginning of events. More correct to say anything began with Athos vanishing in the midst of a cold early octobre night without any trace. The absense of his person was known at once, because the message he was to deliver never reached its destination and Captain de Treville set all wheels in motion to find him. The circumstances of his vanishing were suspicious enough and the message he had carried had been far too important to go unnoticed. The whole affair was of some obscure interest to the king too and he so the investigation went very swiftly. On the 26th of Octobre the Comte de Rochefort was imprisoned for murdering Athos, after a body that appeared to be the remains of the unhappy musketeer was found on the Seine’s riverbanks. The next day the king took off for a long hunting season at Fountainebleau – taking only half of the musketeers and – of cause – their Captain along - and left the Cardinal in charge of affairs.

This was the state of things at the morning of the 31st of Octobre when the Captain in the barrel was discovered. Unfortunately the musketeers happened to find the barrel near the very riverbank where the corpes had been found. Even as Capitaine de Cavoyes was still alive, he was in a horrible state. Someone had not only given him a thorough beating up but also left marks of burns and deep knife cuts, that no one doubtet for a moment that the officer had been cruely interrogated. To their wonder the Captain was half conciouss half delirious when Lieutenant d’Artagnan knelt down beside him. Seeing the man awake, he asked. “Who did this to you, Monsieur le Capitaine?” he knew the man needed rest, but they needed to find this person too, or the Cardinal would have them all skinned and their hides sold to the glovemaker!

De Cavoyes coughted hard, there was blood on his lips. “It was a hard hunt – harder than it ought be in this time of the year. But I found him…” Another cough endet his words.

“He is fever ridden.” Stated Aramis who knelt down on the other side of the injured Captain, and felt the high tempreature of the man.

“Not ridden, but riding.” Cavoyes murmured. “It’ll be a dangerous night for him, but if he stays on this side he’ll be safe.”

“He isn’t making any sense.” Aramis said and examined the wounds. “Might be torture, might be some other strange event. If he has been in a burning house, knife fighting someone and than jumping out of a window, he might have come to the same state of health.”

“But how the hell came the capitain to be in the vine barrel?” D’Artagnan asked with the most unhappy face.

“And the fish’s tail into the roses and the cardinals hat into the fountain?” Aramis snapped angrily. “I don’t know, why don’t you just ask my why fishes don’t fly?”

This very same moment something very strange occurred, because out of the rivers mists, a person appeared. It was no one else than Athos, who in some long steps was beside de Cavoyes. “I hope he is still alive?” he asked in the most worried tones.

All Musketeers jumped at once. “Athos – where have you been?” Three voices exclaimed the question at once. Their comrade seemed tired, a little bit injured and wore a very strange rapier at his side.

“I don’t know.” Athos muttered. “I can’t really say…. It still seems all too strange to me… like a dream or rather a nightmare…. No it was a dream nonetheless.”
Late – late in the evening Kilmeny came home,
For Kilmeny had been she could not tell where,
And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare. Aramis mocked. “Athos – this is far to serious to make jokes about. They said you were murdered.”

“That’s just a rumor.” Replied Athos.

“But it’s a fact that Monsieur de Rochefort has been jugded althought he is innocent and now he’s imprisoned in the Conciergerie, the sentence is to be carried out before All Saints Day.” D’Artagnan insisted.

Athos raised himself to standing erect. “Well, so bring me to his eminence that he might see proof that I am still alive.”

***

His Eminence would have been in a very good mood to see Comte de Rochefort rescued by the living proof that no murder had occurred. But Athos constant insisting on not remembering what happened to him, while crossing that great wood in the dead of night, angered him. “You were messenger with a very important message and you still wish to keep quiet on your whereabouts in the last two weeks.” He said sharply.

Athos looked at him, calmly. “All I recall is much too far fetched as that it might be of any help in this.” He answered, then suddelny stopped. His gaze went towards the window, that was wet from the chill autumn rain.

Richelieu looked into the same direction and for one moment he thought he saw the reflection of a dark haired woman, in her arms a three of four year old child. She raised her hand, as if to touch the window glas and then the wind drove another wave of rain against the window and all vanished. The Cardinal observed that the Musketeer war still staring at the window. Pretending to have seen nothing, his Eminince inquiered very coldly. “What now Monsieur? Is there something on my window to help you answer my question.”

Athos shook his head. “No.” he whispered. “I just saw a specter… one I had not expected to see.”

„That’s quite usual for reformation day, isn’t it?“ the cardinal was asking in mocking tones. “Off with him!”

After Athos was shoved off by the guards, the Cardinal summoned his physician and asked him wether Captain Cavoyes was awake and in shape to be asked some questions. But the physician reported, that the Captain was in a strange delirious state and was talking about a ride through the woods, the wild hunt and other things that probalbly came from bedtime tales he had heard in his early childhood, now reoccuring in his fever. Infrequently he would ask for Athos.

Beeing a great tactician that he was, his Eminence saw at once a way to find out the truth without using too much force. He called for Lieutenant Jussac and ordered him to bring Athos to the room where Cavoyes was at the moment and to leave him there – alone with the injured man. While the Lieutenant hurried to carry out the order, his Eminence walked through one of the secret passages in the Palais Cardinal and eventually entered a small cabinet that was right beside the room where the physician had his patients. A very thin wall separeted both rooms, and this arrangement had been quite usefull in times before. So the cardinal said down in an easy chair and waited for things to commence.

After some time he heard voices from the other side of the wall. “Whatever it was what you did, I thank you, I don’t think I’d made it alone.” He heard Athos voice. “Or rather… I wasn’t alone. Did she make it too?”

“Athos, if you bound yourself to one of them, you’re in grave danger.” Her heard Cavoyes voice, and it did not sound delirous the least. “But I saw someone else – another rider perhaps passing the bridge. Better you tell me from the beginning what happened, than I might be able to judge wether your companion came over or not.”

Athos sighted. “I hope so – we went together, I’ll rather return to that accursed place than losing her.” But then he startet telling what had happened on that cold and misty day, two weeks ago…

***

It was wretched evening to get lost, and the more wretched to be lost within the thick fogs, rising from the land, making the trees looking like ghosts in the midst of nowhere. Athos looked around, but everywhere he saw nothing but hills, trees and lots of mist, like an unknown sea. Had he been on his own, he’d just have rested till the fog liftet. But the message was urgend and did not suffer any delay. So he had to find the road again and a place where his tired hores might get some rest and tending to be fit for another hard ride in the morning.

A low sound made him look up. Another rider emerged from the fogs. He rode a white, pale horse, that seemed to merge with the fogs. He seemed to be quite young, his fair hair, was like a small light in the dim light of the mist. “Greetings, you seem to have lost your way.” He said, with a voice as fair as his whole appearance.

Athos nodded. “Most true. Do you know how to get back to the road and to a place where I might rest for the night? A village and an Inn?”

The rider laughed. “No, there is no village in these woods, but there is a castle nearby, where I am bound to, and they will not turn you ought.”

Athos had thanked him and they had ridden on, the stranger leading him trough that wretched evening. Sometime they had talked most pleasently, than been silent, which was as pleaseant als talking and than Athos strange companion had begun to sing. He had a wonderful voice and it was the pure joy to listen to him, even as he was singing a dark song.

St. Agnes' Eve - Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:
Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told
His rosary, and while his frosted breath,
Like pious incense from a censer old,
Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death,
Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.

His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man;
Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees,
And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan,
Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees:
The sculptur'd dead, on each side, seem to freeze,
Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails:
Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat'ries,
He passeth by; and his weak spirit fails
To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.

The mists rose thicker and thicker as they rode, but Athos strange companion knew his way through the woods. His voice distracted Athos somewhat from the way they took.

They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve,
Young virgins might have visions of delight,
And soft adorings from their loves receive
Upon the honey'd middle of the night,
If ceremonies due they did aright;
As, supperless to bed they must retire,
And couch supine their beauties, lily white;
Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require
Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.

The singing broke off and Athos realised that they had indeed reached a castle. It was an old building of three wings, that might have looked very sinister, had it not been full of lighted windows. In that dreadful night it seemed like a bright house, a safe harbour from all dangers and darkness outside.

They were greeted by the lady of the house, a warm and friendly lady in her late thirties. “Whom do you bring, Richard? Another guest? Wonderful.”

“You are most welcome Monsieur le Mousquetaire.” She said warmly and personaly led Athos into the salon.

It was a very big room, with a great chimney and Athos saw at once that some festivity was going on. Some forty persons where assembled here and serants hurried here and there. But he got no chance to ask the lady of the house about this, because she left him to speak with another man in the room.

Something strange was about this society. They all were very polite, accepting Athos without any discussions among them, but asking no questions who he was, or really introducing themselves properly. They just said their names, but nothing else and accepted ‘Athos’ in the same easy way. Some servants had brought food and vine for him, but he was more intent to study the guests of the house, who assembled around a red haired man, sitting near the chimneys fire, who began to sing after a while.

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
"By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp`st thou me

"The Bridegroom`s doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May`st hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! unhand me, grey - beard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye -
The Wedding - Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years` child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding - Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright - eyed Mariner.

If these people had some tastes for strange songs, than they will fitted together, Athos thought, remembering the rider singing on their way here. But somehow their tastes were limittet to rather eerie songs. And the voice of that man was no comparison to that of the rider. Athos looked arround for the man, but he did not see him.

“You don’t need to look. The ride never joins us.” A voice beside him said.

He nearly jumped. A darkhaired woman stood beside him, on a chair nearby a small child was sitting. “He said he was bound to this castle. Whats it’s name anyway?”

She smiled sadly. “Brocelián. And he says always that he’s bound here, without ever entering the house.” She said and with a whistful smile added: “What is your name, anyway?”

“Athos.” Her replied. “And yours?”

“Marian.” She answered. “My name ist Marian, and this is Anne.” She pointed towards the child in its chair.

“So you’re a guest of this house?” Athos asked.

Her smile became very sad. “Yes this I am. I guest of this house.” She sighted at this words. Something seemed to be very mournful about this occasion.

“Excuse me my Lady for asking so much questions, but what is the cause for this celebration tonight?”

He eyes became very strange. They were of the most beautiful blue, as he recognised. “You don’t know?” she asked. “But then, you are new to this place, you’ll find out as time goes by.” The sadness in her eyes shocked him. And somewhere in their backs, the song endet.

I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding - guests are there:
But in the garden - bower the bride
And bride - maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell
Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding - Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely `twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage - feast,
`Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company! -

To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends
And youths and maidens gray!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding - Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the Wedding - Guest
Turned from the bridegroom`s door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.

Her eyes even became sadder at this song. “He sings this any evening again.” She muttered.

Athos did not really catch these words. “Is he singing about your wedding?” this conclusion just jumped into his head.

Marian shook her head and pointed to another man on the other side of the room. “No, this one is his song. They do not ask mine very often…”

This instant the Lady of the House had spottet them to and turned to a tall man, standing by the other wall. “Our new guest has made his first aquaintance, so give him her song, that he might know her.” She said.

Marian blushed and turned towards the window but ere Athos might have refused hearing that song, the tall stranger begun singing.

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
`She must weep or she will die.`

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee -
Like summer tempest came her tears -
`Sweet my child, I live for thee.`

Seeing the pain the song inflicted on Marian Athos was about to challenge the singer, but he felt Marians Hand on his forearm. “No – there is no sense in challenging him. You can’t go outside anyway and I… I got used to it, had time enough.”

“So it was long ago?”

“Ages.” She whispered. “I can’t tell you how long, but a long time ago.”

Athos was sure that her child was not older than four years. So his puzzled gaze betrayed him. She saw it. “You don’t know what this place is, don’t you?” she whispered. “But you must be running from some pain or the rider would have never found you.”
“What are you speaking about?” he asked in a hush.

She looked at him, sad now, very sad. “Did you never hear of a castle where a ball is going on all night, any night, every night in the world, and everyone can enter but no one can leave again?”

“That old fairy tale?” he asked her. “I did, but it is a legend, a bedtime tale, a story sung far too often. And by the way this is no ball.”

Her eyes were now fixed on his. “Listen Athos, there might be no ball, but this is the very place the story tells of. But anyone here was running from something. From pain, or obligations, duty or love, and the rider found him, brought him here.”

Athos did not believe one word. That instant he turned, walking towards the door, but one of the manservants stopped him. “It is no time to leave now my good sir.” He said politely. But Athos understood fairly well the tones he spoke. He was not allowed to leave.

***

He did not know how time passed, there was no time and they had any time. He much talked to Marian, and the longer he did, the more he told her about himself, his grief about his wife and all that had happened to him. Somehow speaking about it, gave him some relief for the first time in his life. And then one evening, when they sat talking and her sung was sung again, he knew he was not to stay here, and neither was Marian if he was to do something about it. As he asked her to run with him, she was reluctant at first, but ultimately promised him to come with him. And so he watched the evenings careful finding out when the rider came again and the door of the house was open for a very short time.

On a particularly dreadfull evening they used the moment the rider introduced a new guest to the lady of the house and sneaked out of the big doors. Outside stood the riders horse and the one of the new guest. The guests horse was ridden by Marian and Gillian, while Athos took the riders horse. It was a irde into nowhere, for Athos did not recall the way they had come here, but his first goal was getting away from that strange castle and this cursed wood. Thunder raged through the night, strange howls ripped the mists appart, as they rode on. Athos could recall no details from that dreadfull ride, but something had been hunting them and drawn nearer and nearer. Until he had seen the rider – or was it someone else – in the midst of the woods, who had pointed in the direction of two big trees. They had followed the direction, somehow knowing that it was right, while behind them that rider and whatever was hunting them engaged in a fight.

***

Athos sighted. “But then I was somehow on the river, near where you awoke, and Marian was nowhere. I just knew you had been the one to give us the direction where to ride, who took the hunters on himself.”

His Eminence who had listened had enough, they were playing some silly joke on him! In hasty stepps he went out of the cabinet on the floor and towards the proper door of said room. Before entering he heard Cavoyes say. “No, I think she is here, but need you for the last step. This is Hallows Eve, the gates are wide open. Just look to the window.”

And when his Eminence entered the room, he saw a woman, a darkhaired beauty and a child standing in the room, embracing Athos. When they became aware of the Cardinal they turned but said nothing. Cavoyes spoke instead. “Your Eminence, I believe Athos is guilty of abandoning his duty for the sake of a woman and I myself delivered the message that was said to be so important.”

“Then I hope Monsieur Athos – contrary to his comrades – has honourable intentions concerning the lady.” The cardinal replied acidly when leaving the room.

Outside he heard Cavoyes saying. “You know what the end of the riders song is? No, you never heard it?”
And they are gone: aye, ages long ago
These lovers fled away into the storm.
That night the Baron dreamt of many a woe,
And all his warrior-guests, with shade and form
Of witch, and demon, and large coffin-worm,
Were long be-nightmar'd. Angela the old
Died palsy-twitch'd, with meagre face deform;
The Beadsman, after thousand aves told,
For aye unsought for slept among his ashes cold.
“You are the rider.” His Eminence heard Athos startled voice, and then decided to leave. At some later time, he would ask Pére Jopsephs professional opinion wether his captain of the guards was mad or possessed.

***

If his Eminence ever summonded some exorcist because of said Captaine is unknown. But the End of the affair was Athos quittin his service. No it wasn’t. Even as this sad event for the company of the Musketeers was close enough to the end of this affairs. The end of the affair was his marriage with Marian and the adoption of her little daughter. One year later ason was born to the happy couple that got two cardinalist for godfathers: Rochefort, whom the cardinal had long forgiven, and Cavoyes who seemed to be forgiven too.

She is not any common Earth,
Water or Wood or Air,
But Merlins Isle of Gramarye
Where you and I shall fare.”