A Victorian Tale Part 10

Chapter Ten (Dnkstar) Several minutes later, the first of the lord’s guests arrived. What had started out as a typical English rain shower had quickly escalated into a full-blown tempest. The carriages bucked and stumbled as a sizable caravan made its way up the slick and precarious slope to the Earl of Moneforte’s imposing abode. Lighting slashed ugly gashes in the heavens over the manor, causing the several of the carriages’ horses to tremble and shy back against an increasingly violent tumult. One by one, the guests’ carriages were stopped in front the manor and escorted by a small battalion of servants to a carriage house the size of a large chateau. Once inside, the guests were led to a breathtakingly beautiful subterranean hallway that winded and turned abruptly upward and toward the main house. All along the way, the assembled guests let out gasps of delight and surprise as they spied their awesome surroundings. Ornate medieval tapestries, rich oriental carpets, stately armor, and weaponry covered every wall and bit of floor leading upward toward the first floor landing. Once at the top, they followed the servants from the arched hallway into an astoundingly large front foyer. While the assemblage waited at the bottom of a large set of winding double stairwells for their host, they had no idea that they were being watched from above: Hope turned from her vantage point overlooking the third floor landing and faced Mercy full-on. “Which ones…?” she inquired with some degree of curiosity. “There. Do you see that group standing just over by the corner, over there?” “All of them?” asked Hope, dark eyes widening in disbelief. A cold smile crossed Mercy’s lips. “If the need should arise… However, for now, just the Prince strumpet.” Hope’s eye widened yet further, and her jaw dropped in astonishment. “Surely, you’re not thinking of doing it here, tonight…! ----”, she gasped. Mercy’s cold smile widened even more in response. “Why not? There are so many ‘accidents’ one can encounter in a place such as this; so many places for one to come to an ‘unfortunate end’.” And, with that, she let, out a sweet, girlish, but ultimately maniacal laugh. As if in answer, the thunder outside rumbled outside, and the wind howled its harbinger’s message of ill fate. A sudden bolt of lightning lit up the room and cast a whitish glow across the gleaming blade that Mercy sat spinning around between her thumbs and forefingers. And all the while, her cold, soulless laugh reverberated throughout the upper floor of Lord Luthor’s manor…