P. N. Elrod - Jonathan Barrett 04 - Dance of Death

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Jonathan Barret 4 - Dance of Death by P N Elrod

CHAPTER 1

London, December 1777

"You're certain that he's all right?" asked my cousin Oliver, shifting closer i

n an anxious effort to see better. "He looks like a dead fish."

Which was a perfectly accurate observation; however, I had no need to be re

minded about the effect of my special influence on another person. I really

had no need for Oliver's interruption, either, but he'd asked to watch and

at the time there seemed no reason to deny his request. Now I was having s

econd thoughts.

"Please," I said in a rather tight voice. "I must concentrate."

"Oh." His hushed tone was contrite, and he instantly subsided into silence an

d went very still, enabling me to put forth my full attention on the man sitt

ing before us. Focusing my gaze hard upon his slack face, I softly spoke into

his all too vulnerable mind.

You must listen very carefully to what I say....

In this moment I truly felt myself balanced on the edge of a knife. With Ol

iver along to witness things, I was steadier than if I'd been alone, and ye

t I was very much aware of the lamentable consequences should I make a mist

ake with this fellow. A single word on my part or a brief surge of uncontro

lled rage let loose, and the man would most likely be plunged into a madnes

s from which he might never recover. I'd done that once before unintentiona

lly find would be a liar not to admit this present circumstance offered me

a great temptation to repeat the action. God knows, I'd more than sufficien

t cause to justify such a malfeasance.

His name was Thomas Ridley, and last night he and his cousin Arthur Tyne ha

d done their damnedest to try to murder me. For this and other crimes they'

d committed or participated in, I had been informed it would be too much to

expert a just retribution by means of the law; therefore I'd taken upon my

self the responsibility to guarantee that they would commit no further misc

hiefs. Arthur had already been dealt with and would soon be sent away home

when he was fit enough to travel. I'd drained quite a lot of blood from him

last night surely for the purpose of survival, not revenge, and he'd been

but half awake and easy to influence.

Ridley was another matter.

We'd confined him to one of the more remote cellar storage rooms far beneat

h Fonteyn House, well away from any ears with no business hearing his bello

wed curses. When I'd awakened that evening, had finished with the befuddled

Arthur, and was ready to deal with Ridley, he'd worked himself into a trul

y foul temper, if one might judge anything by the coarsely direct quality o

f his language. Much of his invective involved both general and specific pr

ofanities against myself and my many relatives for his treatment at our col

lective hands.

Coming down to the cellar together, Oliver and I had dismissed the five foot

men detailed to stand watch, and announced our presence to Ridley through th

e stout oak timbers of the door to his makeshift prison. He responded with a

statement to the effect that it would be his greatest pleasure to kill us b

oth with his bare hands. He saw no humor in Oliver's comment that he'd just

given us an excellent reason for keeping him incarcerated until he was starv

ed into a better disposition. Ridley's reaction was another tirade against u

s, accompanied by a solid crashing and thumping to indicate that he'd found

something in his cell with which to make an assault on the door.

"I think we should have the footmen back," Oliver advised, casting a nervous

eye at me. "We won't be able to handle him alone, he's far too angry for re

ason.''

"He'll not be difficult for me once I'm inside."

"That's a proper lion's den in there and I must remind you that your name's

Jonathan, not Daniel."

"And I must remind you that I have a bit more than just my faith to protect m

e in this instance."

"From the sound of things, you'll need it."

Ridley roared and smashed whatever weapon he'd found upon the door, causing

it to rattle alarmingly. I hoped that his improvised club was not made of

wood. For reasons unknown to me, wood presents a rare difficulty to my pers

on when brought to bear with violence, and to it was I as susceptible to bo

dily harm as any ordinary man; I'd have to take care not to allow Ridley th

e least opening against me.

Easier said than done, Johnny Boy, I thought, steeling myself to enter. More

out of trepidation of what was to come and to put it off just a bit longer th

an out of concern for Oliver, I paused to make an inquiry of him.

"You know what to expect, don't you?"

Ridley's commotion must have distracted him. "I expect he'll pulverize you,

then come after me."

"He won't be able to. I was asking if you remembered what I was going to do

to get inside.''

"Oh, that," he said with wan enthusiasm. "Yes, you've mentioned it, but I'm no

t so sure that I've quite taken it in."

"I've never had cause before to demonstrate it for you. You're not going to s

woon or do anything silly, are you?''

''For God's sake, how bad can it be?''

"It's not bad, just something of a surprise if one is unprepared for it."

"I should be able to manage well enough. Once one's witnessed a few amputati

ons there's little enough the world can do to shake one's calm. Nothing like

seeing a man getting his leg sawed off for putting you in a proper mood to

count your blessings and to ignore most troubles life has to fling at you."

As if to give lie to his statement, Oliver jumped somewhat at Ridley's next

fit of hammering.

"Steady on, Coz." I found myself near to smiling at his discomfiture and won

dered if he was playing the ass on purpose just to lighten things.

He scowled, jerking his head in the direction of the, clamor. "Well, get on

with it before he has the whole house down. Do what you must-just promise yo

u'll try to come out in one piece."

"I promise." And with those words, I picked up one of the lighted candles l

eft behind by the footmen and vanished.

Oliver emitted a sort of suppressed yelp, but held his ground as far as I c

ould determine without benefit of sight. My hearing was somewhat impaired w

hile in this bodiless state, but I could clearly sense his presence just in

front of me-or what had been my front but a moment before. Now I floated,

held in place by thought alone, and by that means did I propel myself to on

e side, find the crack between the cellar bricks and the wooden door, and s

weep down and through to become solid once more in the little room beyond.

I say little, for Ridley seemed to fill the whole of its space. I was a tall

man, but Ridley was just that much taller, possessing a large and fit body he

avy with muscles and all of them full charged with his anger. The remains of

some bandaging circled his head; he'd suffered injury last night and taken a

shallow but colorful wound. It had probably opened again because of his exert

ions; the blood had soaked through, and I instantly picked up the scent of it

. His right arm had been in a sling the last time I'd seen him. The sling

was gone now and his arm hung slack at his side. He still had much energy

in him, for he slammed at the door again using his good arm and called us

cowards and damned us thrice over. His back was to me when I caused myself

to reappear.

The candle I held yet burned, and its sudden radiance drew his instant atten

tion upon me. He whirled, one hand raised holding what had once been a table

leg and the other shading his eyes from the brightness of the flame. We'd l

eft him in the dark for the whole of the day lest he work some damage by hav

ing fire, and so my tiny light must have been utterly blinding to him. Despi

te this, he was very game for a fight, and without warning threw his improvi

sed club right at me with a guttural snarl. I wasted no time vanishing again

, an action that plunged his room into full darkness once more since I still

clutched the candle.

He must have been so lost to his emotions that it had made little or no imp

ression on him that I'd appeared from nowhere and departed in the same mann

er. I'd held some hope that the surprise alone might slow him enough for me

to soothe him to quiescence, but was forced to abandon it as he charged ov

er to the spot where I'd been standing and tried to grab hold of me. I felt

his arms passing this way and that through my invisible and incorporeal bo

dy. He, I knew, would feel nothing but an unnatural coldness.

Now he blundered about trying to find me, cursing like a dozen sailors.

"Jonathan?'' Oliver called out in a worried voice.

I could not answer him in this form, nor could I count on him to be especi

ally patient. We were as close as brothers, and his concern for me would s

oon cause him to fetch the footmen and come to my rescue. Even with the od

ds at seven to one Ridley would probably break some heads before being sub

dued.

I didn't care for that prospect one whit. When Ridley had crossed again to t

he door in his blind search, I allowed myself to assume a degree of visibili

ty, but not solidity. He saw the candlelight immediately as before, but this

time it was pale and watery, the brass holder in the hand of a ghost, not a

man. This was so startling that he finally paused long enough to take in a

good view of me. I was fairly transparent yet; doubtless he could see right

through me to the damp brick wall at my back, an alarming effect that more t

han served. In the space of a moment Ridley went from a man who looked just

short of bursting a blood vessel from his fury, to a man frozen with a profo

und astonishment beginning to edge into fear.

It was as close as I'd likely be able to come to a favorable condition for

what needed to be accomplished. Quick as thought, I assumed full solidity,

fastened my gaze unbreakably on to his, and told him to be still. Perhaps f

ed by my own heightened emotions, my order to him must have had more force

to it than was necessary for he seemed to turn to cold marble right then an

d there. An abrupt twinge of dismay shot through me, and for an instant I t

hought I might have killed him, but this eased almost as quickly as it had

come when my sharp ears detected the steady thunder of his heartbeat. I sag

ged from the relief.

"Jonathan?"

"I'm fine," I said loudly so Oliver could hear through the slab of oak betwe

en us. "It's safe now. You may unlock the door."

I heard the clink and rattle of brass, and the barrier between us swung hesit

antly open. Oliver, his lanky frame blocking the lighted candles behind him,

stood braced for trouble with a charged dueler in his hand.

"Where on earth did you get that?'' I asked, staring.

"F-from my coat pocket, where d'ye think?''

"You won't need it; Ridley's asleep on his feet, as you can see."

Oliver narrowly examined my charge, then reluctantly put the pistol away."H

e's under your influence, then?''

"For the moment."

His gaze alternated between my face and Ridley's. "First you're there and th

en you're not, and now this. You should have a conjuring show. It's just too

uncanny."

"I quite agree,'' I said dryly.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm tired and I want to have done with this."

And more than that I wanted to feed again. Though outwardly I'd fully reco

vered from the attack Ridley and Arthur had made upon me the previous even

ing, I was still mending within. My vanishings just now had depleted my st

rength more than I cared to think about; my very bones felt hollow.

Perhaps Oliver realized something of this. He stood well aside allowing me t

o lead Ridley to sit at the table the footmen had recently used for their su

pper. I sat opposite him, checked on the number of lighted candles, and deci

ded there was enough illumination for me to work by. The single one I'd used

in the cell would have been insufficient for the sort of detailed project I

was about to attempt.

Finally settled-as well as unable to put it off any longer-I began the danger

ous process of rearranging another man's thoughts.

Oliver, after his initial question, was content to leave me undisturbed as I

cautiously worked. Whenever I had to pause and think on what to say next, I

'd steal a glance at my cousin and find him watching with rapt attention. Si

nce first learning of them he'd been highly curious about my unnatural abili

ties; I hoped this demonstration would content him, since I wanted it to be

the last one for the time being. I had no liking for forcing my influence up

on another and took such a liberty with people only when dictated by dire ne

cessity. At the worst it was a terrible and sometimes hazardous intrusion up

on another and at the least any lengthy encounter like this one always gave

me a god-awful headache.

But for all our sakes and his, Ridley very much needed to forget certain pas

t events, as well as remember to abide by a new pattern of behavior in the f

uture. Though presently under my control, he was as hearty in mind as in bod

y, and I found it a difficult and exhausting task. I not only had to constan

tly maintain my hold against his strength of will, but labored hard to keep

my own perilous emotions in check lest I cause him a permanent injury of min

You 're not to pick any more duels, Ridley, do you understand that? It's pa

st time that you assume more peaceful pursuits than harassing honest citize

ns. No more violence for you, my lad.

Light enough words, but it was the force I put behind them that counted. He

blinked and winced a few times, a warning to me to ease off. I did, but damn

ation, I'd come so close to dying again ...

You know well enough how to cause trouble, so you must certainly know how t

o avoid it, and that's exactly what you'll be doing from now on. If I hear

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摘要：

JonathanBarret4-DanceofDeathbyPNElrodCHAPTER1London,December1777"You'recertainthathe'sallright?"askedmycousinOliver,shiftingcloserinananxiousefforttoseebetter."Helookslikeadeadfish."Whichwasaperfectlyaccurateobservation;however,Ihadnoneedtoberemindedabouttheeffectofmyspecialinfluenceonanotherperson....

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