Elizabeth played with her food by way of turning it over on her spoon and letting it slop back into the mass.
“You should eat something, Elizabeth.”
“I’m not hungry…do give Jimethy my thanks though.”
“He was more than happy to.” Mr Potter smiled.
“Thank you, as well, Mr Potter.” Her delicate smile cracked on just one side before she glanced back down at her porridge.
“Call me, David.”
“Of course.” She nodded.
David rose from the small, round dining table between the living room and study. He made sure to light up and warm the cold manor house the best he could. “Alius let this house run into the ground.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I remember when we found this plot…he spoke of how he’d turn this place into a palace.” She dropped her spoon in the porridge and joined David in the living room to watch him restock the fire with a few logs he’d gathered from the garden.
David glanced back at her a moment. She seemed to glide silently around which gave him a shiver. He guessed it was a habit of hers to make herself as quiet as possible. “Alius had a great vision for this village, a shame he has such a sickness of the mind.”
“Will I see him again?”
Mr Potter placed his hand on the fireplace side and took a breath.
“Your hands…what happened?”
David looked over his blooded hand wraps and rubbed his knuckles. “Elizabeth, much has happened in the time you were gone. Let’s not sift through it at such a late hour.”
Elizabeth left for the kitchen and prepared a bowl of warm water. She returned promptly and knelt beside Mr Potter who was stoking the flames with the poker. “Let me clean those hands.”
David waved her off. “No need, Elizabeth.”
“You helped me, let me return this small favour.”
Mr Potter relented and shuffled on his knees to face her.
She took his hands and carefully peeled away the bandages, careful not to prickle the wounds as she exposed them to the air. “What a mess.”
David eyed Elizabeth. She was beautiful. A pale angel in a gown that sunk to reveal her pert bosom. Her ruby lips and blue eyes accented her pale cheekbones most unusually. Mr Potter could only imagine why Alius would treat such a woman with such contempt; though it did give him ponderance at how well she presented after such treatment.
“You have been fighting, Mr Potter.” Elizabeth moved her cold hands over his burning knuckles. She kissed them and seemed to savour the moment before handily cleansing and re-wrapping them. “See, all better.”
David took his hands back and turned them over in front of him to inspect her work. “Perfect, thank you.”
“Who were you fighting?”
David shook his head and turned back to the fire to continue poking it.
“You were fighting Alius…you beat him didn’t you?”
“Elizabeth—”
“It’s fine. No man has ever broken his knuckles over me.”
David looked at her. “Elizabeth, this isn’t the discussion we should be having now.”
“Is Esmeralda happy for you to spend the night here, with me?”
Mr Potter’s cheeks flushed and he looked away.
“She’s dead isn’t she?”
David snapped his head back to look at her. “What makes you say that?”
“I can tell. I can see a sadness in your eyes. I’m sorry.”
Mr Potter rose quickly and walked to the window. “Elizabeth, I need to check on the village, I will be back soon.”
“Do not be too long.”
Mr Potter came through the front door and closed it behind him quickly. He had felt something so uncanny that his heart would not calm. He shook his head and closed his eyes momentarily, trying to regain composure. Today had been too much for anyone to comprehend and his nerve was already cracking. He wondered if this is what the onset of madness might feel like.
The night had not sent the villagers indoors and there was a commotion amongst a few of the groups that had gathered. Mr Potter could see the lamp lights moving about around the willow tree. He walked down the garden and stopped at the crooked gate, turning back to look over the manor. Two eyes glinted from the upstairs window from a wispy figure. Elizabeth was pining for his return already. He shuddered, creaked the gate open and headed back to the village.
Jimethy met up with Mr Potter quickly. “The folks are getting restless, I think you need to give them a talking to.”
Mr Potter nodded. “Right then.”
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“You look like you’ve eaten bad meat.”
Mr Potter scratched his nose and looked past Jimethy to see who was gathering; it was everyone, even Sylvester, who had made an appearance. He looked back at Jimethy and blinked, “It’s nothing. It’s just Elizabeth, she’s, well, she’s off.”
“Off how?”
“I don’t know I’m not a head doctor. It’s like she can read my thoughts and she moves like the wind.”
Jimethy nodded. “Pretty lady, mind you.”
“Do you want to keep her company tonight?”
“No thanks.” Jimethy raised a hand, “You better go assert your command captain.”
Mr Potter pushed his way through the group of gathering villagers and stood on one of the centre blocks surrounding the willow tree. “Folks! Quiet now.”
“Who do you think you are?” A woman yelled. “You can’t just make yourself bloomin' captain!”
“Well, I shan’t—”
Another man interrupted. “You shan’t be assuming yourself in charge of us!”
“Alius was—”
Once again Mr Potter was cut off by another voice, “Where is Captain Alius?”
“People! Allow me to speak or I be damned to silence!”
The crowd hushed a moment and seemed to shuffle as one.
Mr Potter nodded. “Thank you. It was with great remorse that I had to assume the role of captain, and I am happy to hold a vote for the position permanent.”
“Too right!”
“Thank you.” Mr Potter nodded at the man who shouted out. “As for Captain Alius, and his associate Jarrod, whom I am well aware are respected individuals amongst many of you, they are in cells.”
“In cells!” A man called from the back.
“Indeed, in cells for they are the perpetrators of these murders.”
“What proof do you have?” At that, the crowd rumbled with an uneasy grumble. Supporters of Mr Potter moved around behind him. This included Jimethy, Sylvester and some of the mob from the morning.
“Apart from him succumbing to madness.” Mr Potter raised his voice, “We have found Elizabeth.”
The crowd gasped and was stunned into a crestfallen silence.
Mr Potter looked back up at the manor house on the hill. A light flickered in the upstairs window and then went out. He gulped.
“Where is she, bring her out here!”
Mr Potter raised both hands, “In good time, she has been through a lot and is resting.”
“Where?”
“In the manor house. She was a prisoner to Alius, he had her chained in the pantry.”
The rabble roused once more. “We want to see her now!”
“As I have said–”
“Now, now now!”
“She is–”
“Now!”
Mr Potter backed up as the mob closed in around him. His supporters were fewer in number and dispersed for their own safety.
The group stopped still and then backed away all of sudden to Mr Potter's surprise. Mr Potter looked at them in confusion, their jaws were slack and gaumless as if they had been struck about the head with an iron bar.
“It’s Elizabeth…” said one of the crowd.
Mr Potter looked back. There she was, the pale beauty to his rescue.
She glided beside him elegantly and spoke with a voice that carried through the whole village. “The terror Alius brought to me, and this village is over.” she placed her hands on her heart and waved with the wind. “Please forgive me for what my husband has done to you all…”
“We thought you dead!” Cried Olivia, a wife of the butcher and good friend to Elizabeth.
“Oh, my dearest Oliva.” Elizabeth bent down and reached out towards her. “I thought I was dead too. But Mr Potter saved me, I am sorry if I caused you to worry.”
Mr Potter watched Elizabeth soothe and woo the crowd with her tale of woe. She delivered it with elegance and had everyone in tears for her tragedy. She told them all of how she was locked up and treated like a vampire by Alius, and that he was desperate to cure her. She told them of how he accused other women in the village of vampirism and how he would destroy them. She mentioned that Esmeralda was one of these women.
Jimethy looked at David and nodded, impressed by how she eased the crowd. She had an aura that caressed everyone. It was clear to them why Alius was so successful at being a leader with such a woman behind him.
“This is why—” Elizabeth continued. “You should consider Mr Potter your captain. He is our hero, he stopped Alius, and he saved me and all of you. We can put this behind us.”
Mr Potter raised his voice, “Of course, I am still happy to have a vote, I don’t think this one deed makes me the sole heir to such duty.” David was seemingly trying to talk his way out of captaincy now. Something about the manor and Alius’ words were haunting him.
“Nonsense, Potter! You’re the man for the job!”
The crowd cheered and clapped. With a flick of her wrist, Elizabeth had charmed the village into siding with Mr Potter.
“Bring us Alius!” Cried a man.
“Bring him to me!” Daniel had pushed his way to the front and was seething with rage. “I want him, I want him.”
“We all want to see justice.” Said Mr Potter.
“He killed my wife first! That bastard is mine, I want Jarrod too!”
“We will hold a trial here in the centre of the village, you’ll get justice!”
Daniel grunted and stormed off.
Mr Potter looked at Elizabeth and bowed his head. She smiled in return and moved into the crowd to greet her friends and those who loved her and had missed her greatly and thought she was dead.
Sylvester approached Mr Potter and looked up at him. His face was narrow and his features were small. Atop his head lay a thing greasy black mop of hair that encircled a growing bald spot. “Seems you have convinced the village of your new aspirations, though getting Elizabeth to do it was rather shrewd even for me.”
Mr Potter grunted, “Captaincy is not my aspiration, nor did I ask Elizabeth to help.”
“Yet you got both, heaven helps a man for a reason, no?”
David shook his head, “Save your conspiracies, Sylvester.”
He chortled, “She is filled with vitality for a woman with such a tale, don’t you think?”
“It is hard to know what to think right now.”
“I’d say you be careful, Captain, this job drove the last one mad and you’re already more confused than I’ve ever seen you.”
“I can see why you don’t spend much time with people, Sylvester.”
He shrugged, “You’re a cobbler, Mr Potter, making shoes is simple, sometimes it’s better for one to stick to what is simple.”
“Do you think I should not be captain?”
“I don’t think, I stick to dead bodies…those are simple.” Sylvester smiled and walked away before Mr Potter could respond.
It seemed the Captain's attentions would be strained further, as from the butcher he could see a panicked Greg charging from the cells by the butchers, arms waving as he hollered: “Captain Potter!”
“What is, lad?”
Greg placed his hands on his knees, panting, “Daniel, he’s got a flintlock. He demanded I open Jarrod's cell, he’s in there now trying to drag him out.”
Captain Potter pushed Greg to one side and placed his hands on his hips, watching the jail-house. His eyes widened as he saw Jarrod’s pudgy silhouette being dragged out by Daniel. “Lord have mercy.” He said to himself through gritted teeth.