Eyes, dark and seething, stare at shadows of light through darkness.

Around him are the dank walls of this place he chooses to stay. Cluttered shelving. A tattered cot. His carving tools. As lock of blonde hair falls over his forehead, he pushes it back, still staring at the dim light that seeps from the space above. The smell of sod and moist earth surround him, penetrate him.

More like home than home. More like his youth than he wants to realize.

~~~

"Ross!"

"Coming, Lancy!" Ross calls over his shoulder as he wipes the stains from his hands onto his pant leg then gathers up his easel. He rolls his tattered parchment and stuffs it under his arm as he tosses his charcoal into the small cotton bag he carries with him always. Everything in place, he rolls to his feet and starts back toward the large white house where he and his older sister live.

He was expecting the Widow Martin to come by this afternoon and this must be her, but he hadn't realized it was getting so late. As he approached the front door, he set the easel aside and smiles at Lancy who stands watching him.

"She's been waiting for ten minutes and she looks uptight." She turns as he enters the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron and following after him into the parlor.

"Widow Martin. You look ravishing this afternoon!" Ross enters the front room with a wide smile and open arms. The woman sitting there begins to speak, but Ross speaks quickly over her, "Now, if I might ask you to sit here in the window where the light can highlight your lovely figure..."

Lancy shakes her head and walks back down the hall toward the kitchen. Ross always had a charm so that no one could be mad at him for long.

~~~

Heart racing. Hands run over the silky surface of his cloak. He catches his breath as he shuts his eyes as the thoughts sweep over him again. He didn't look at it. That would ruin it all. That would make this moment meaningless.

He wanted to be anything. Anything, but meaningless.

~~~

"Now then, how is that?"

"I don't know." the lady tilts her head to stare at the parchment, her index finger tapping her chin.

"How about this. You take it home. Hang it in your very favorite place. Next week, if you still are unsure about it, you can have it without paying me." Ross winks then reaches for the parchment slowly.

"I suppose that would be fine. Of course, I would pay you if I kept it, Ross," she nods once to which he returns a nod.

He escorts her to the door and opens it for her, "Lady Martin, I thank you for your time. Let me know how you decide." With that, he closes the door and turns to stroll back toward the kitchen where his sister is cooking.

"You're too much of a flirt with the older women, Brother."

Ross shrugs and picks up a carrot, "I'm not sleeping with them, Lancy. I flirt. They want to hear the compliments and I don't mind it." He crunches into the carrot and smiles with his cheek filled.

Lancy just smiles back and sets down her current task of cutting an onion, wiping her hands on her apron, "Well now, Mister Flirt. Go gather the laundry from outside."

Ross bows grandly using the carrot as a mock scepter then clenches it between his teeth and steps royally to the door and out.

Lancy smiles and shakes her head.

~~~

Daylight. How did he get here? What was this force within him making him move without his will being tapped?

Weary. Exhaustion. Had he slept yet? All he yearns for is a soft spot of silence. Away from the sounds. The sights that his mind subjected him to.

The younger one going ahead of him. The arms reaching out to take him. The dark place, only slivers of sunlight beaming through the short opening at the other end. It was days. No food or sleep or warmth.

His voice was raw, his throat nearly bloody from screaming.

"HELP!"

With a start, he awakens. Again, the dreams turn him to his task. Guide him to his goal. He stands and moves toward his prey, a boy standing in full daylight at a clothesline. It was incredibly easy to strike him down. His soft flesh gave way quickly to the blade.

He drags the body to a nearby shady spot and positions it against a tree, slipping the block into the pocket before turning and moving away through the thick underbrush.

Another brother removed. Another sibling freed.

Faintly, as he reached the outer edges of the thick forest, he could hear the sounds of the other shrieking his name, "Ross! Oh my God, no! Ross, no!"

She has no idea what he's done for her.

Ernie 5/2001


Field of Death: Past

"How is she?"
"The same."
"Do you know what triggered it?"
"No."
"Let me know, if anything happens."

~~~

She turns the corner with her skirts sweeping out widely and her arms are filled with packages. In an almost song-like voice, she calls out up the stairs, "Lerrad! Logan! Come down! We have some parcels just come in." Her voice lowers as she approaches the large soft chair nearest the hearth, "It would seem we have more things come than ever these days." She looks up at a servant as she comes walking in holding the hand of a small girl, dressed in a frilly dress with long ringlet curls bouncing with each step.

"What did I get?!" Logan calls as he tramples down the stairs, his father moving not far behind him.

"Well, I don't know. Perhaps you got a little something." Elspeth smiles, her hands placed over the stack of packages to protect them. She waits until Logan sits on the floor before the stack and for Lerrad to sit in the chair across from hers with Marilyn in his lap before lifting the first package, "This one..." she pauses for the dramatic, "...is for Logan."

"Yay!" He snatches the parcel and looks at it only a moment then smiles, "It's from Aunt Marilyn!" He digs into the paper wrapping and fumbles with the box top as he pulls to remove it. His eyes widen and a sense of awe falls over his expression. "Oh," he says.

"What is it, son?" Lerrad asks as he cranes his neck up to try and look into the box.

Logan lifts a bundle out of the box, "It's a hat." These words are said slowly with a great sense of respect.

Elspeth tilts her head, "A hat."

Lerrad furrows his brow a bit, "A hat?"

"A hat!" Logan immediately lifts the hat to his head and slips it on. Its construction is of some animal skin with a decor of feathers and beads. "Yes, well...good." Elspeth clears her throat in an attempt not to giggle at the sight. "We have some other packages here. Large and small." She looks over the pile and begins to sort them, "Most of these are for you, Lerrad. There's one or two for me, they look like some of my orders were filled. Here's one...for Marilyn." This last statement said with a measure of surprise.

"Me!" Marilyn shouts, clapping her hands and wiggling on Lerrad's lap. Lerrad leans forward to take the small box and holds it in his lap for his daughter. She takes it from him and hugs it, looking at the wrapped box as if it's the best thing she's ever seen.

"I bet it's a shell!" Logan says with a smile then stands and starts dancing around them with his hat dangling freely over his head and shoulders.

Lerrad smiles at Elspeth then chuckles as he looks back down at his daughter, "Shall we open it, my sweety? I'll wager that the inside is even better than the outside."

The little girl looks at the package now with an expectant stare and a question on her face. Lerrad reaches around her and tears one edge of the wrapping then she begins removing it on her own. Her little fingers slip under the lid and flip it off onto the floor.

~~~

The images fly past her in a frenzy, so that she can barely make out any one of them. So dark. So empty. So cruel. Voice, blurred by the darkness, echoes past her in a haze. "Has she moved?"

"No."

She tries to do as they suggest, tensing her muscles as if to move, but her body will not obey her commands. Only darkness. Evil thoughts. The flash of scenes of a boy's life, taken from his family. The others are there when he leaves. When he is taken from the comfort of his home, from his mother's tears. The other one is there. He can see.

Now, he's in the dark place. She can smell the urine soaked boards of the locked box. Screams shoot past her as he turns to look through the small slit in the door. The sound of someone approaching makes him excited, nervous, afraid, terrified.

A hand reaches in for him, taking him from the darkness and into the bright light of the sun. His eyes sear in pain at the light and he closes them as his only defense.

"She seems to be dreaming, but her eyes are open."

"Should we call for a high healer?"

"I...I don't know."

It's cold now. The sun is gone behind a blanket of clouds. Winter winds filter in through the walls and windows of the tiny room. He sits on his cot and stares, his thoughts now only on being what they have trained him to be. He is nothing.

"She's stopped!"
"What?"
"Her eyes. They've just...stopped."

Nothing. He stares at the filthy wall beyond the cold stone floor. In the same room, some other child coughs and begins to whimper and cry. She knows his name, the whimpering child. Harrison. He's the second son of some merchants who lost their lives in a fire. An orphan.

"She's moving!"
"I think she's waking up."

Harrison struggles beneath him as his hands cover the boy's mouth and nose. She tries to call out to stop him, but cannot. It all streams past her in a flashing blur.

With a scream, she awakens, "No! Shamus! No!"

~~~

"What did you get, Little Love? Is it something from Auntie Marilyn?"

Marilyn peers into the small box and smiles, reaching her hand into it to retrieve a small wooden block. Lerrad lifts the block from her hand and looks at it carefully. No markings appear on its side and he moves his eyes to Elspeth who blinks with an internal shrug.

"Mine is better!" Logan announces and starts marching about with his head held high, covered in animal skins and feathers and beads.

"Is not! Mine best!" Marilyn struggles to reach for the block from her father's hand. Just as Lerrad is about to say something to the children, a servant runs into the hall and stops short as he spots his lord and lady.

"Lord Lerrad, sir. There is word from Camelot. A missive from Sir Blackthorn." He steps once more toward them and extends his arm, a rolled parchment held in his hand.

Past a heavy sigh from Elspeth, no doubt from the mention of Ian Blackthorn's name, Lerrad speaks in a kind voice to the messenger, "Very good, Timothy. Thank you."

Lerrad takes the missive and unrolls it then frowns, giving a quick glance at the contents. "I hadn't known it was this bad," he says in a low voice. He moves to stand, handing their daughter to Elspeth who watches with question in her eyes.

"It would seem there's more trouble with the immigrants from Flaxley." His eyes flash to the children as Elspeth lowers Marilyn to the floor to play. He leans over and whispers, "It would seem that someone is killing them off." He straightens and reads the note again, "He's asking is we know of any unusual occurrences involving siblings. Of any older siblings being past over for the younger. I believe we kept some records of land holdings and the tenant records. I'll look in the morning and ride to Camelot to speak with the Captain."

He tucks the parchment into his sleeve as he turns and smiles, "Now, what do we have here. A young man with a new hat and a mistress lady with a strange little block." He falls to the floor and tickles the two of them, both erupting in a fit of giggles.

~~~

"Colin!" the voice calls out to the barn from the kitchen window.

When no reply was heard, Martha Daniels dried her hands and stepped out to the back porch to call her son, "Colin. It's almost time for sup, son. You can finish patching that wall in the morning."

Still no reply and Jake was in the front of the house washing up, she could see that. No choice but to fetch her son herself. Since his older brother left, just before that came there from Flaxley, Colin had been a big help in building what they had now. She was very proud of him.

She pushes open the barn door and speaks his name again, "Colin." Seeing his silhouette in the front of the window, head lowered as though he were asleep made her smile. "You've worked so hard, looks like you wore yourself out." She starts across the barn toward her son, "I swear to it. You and your father are gonna kill yourselves before a single year has past for us here."

She sets a hand on Colin's shoulder and pushes him gently to wake him, "Colin, it's..." He falls out the window opening and into a heap on the blood soaked ground beyond. It's only then that she realizes the hay around her feet is also thick with blood. He own ankles marked as if by a red quill.

She screams and her husband comes running from the front of the house.

Ernie 5/2001