The Year of the Tiger

This chapter sets the course for the story. If you wish, you can begin reading at the next chapter.

What evil can so possess a man as to derange his mind from all morality? Such was the mood that overcame Jeffrey Thurston when he found himself opposed and spurned by his own reluctant wife of but a few hours. He curses her and all about her, and endeavors to bring ruin upon her family and even upon his own, out of hatred of his brother. No man deserves peace after that. Nor did he find it.

“If there is no key then break the door down!” Cedric Thurston spoke each of the later words separately from the others and with emphasis as he glared at the servant. It was the second time he had to say it. The young man’s impatience, anger, and determination were obvious. He had just returned to the estate having learned of the cruel trick played upon him by his own parents and his brother, Jeffrey.

That same brother and his new wife of the night before would not care to be so rudely interrupted, nor so early by his vengeful younger brother seeking to gain entry in that way, and using a servant to do so. There had been no response to the repeated knocking on the door earlier that morning by the servant girl bringing hot water, or to the more insistently louder knocks of their father’s steward after that, so maybe there was indeed something amiss.

If they were still asleep, which seemed unlikely after all of the noise that had been made at the door, or were otherwise intimately occupied, there would be hell to pay. Simon did not relish having to explain to Master Jeffrey, at the point of a sword, why he was disturbing them at such a delicate time, nor why his hated brother had insisted he do what he did with the door.

“Sir, I daren’t do that. He’ll kill me.” The man’s fear was obvious. “You know what his anger is like at the best of times with everyone. Should we not tell your father first and ask his advice?”

“Damn my father! Damn Jeffrey, and damn you after the trick that was played on me!” The hatred directed at the first two of those was obvious. The young man pushed the fearful servant to one side, wrenched a heavy war ax, last used by one of his ancestors in the Battle of Crecy almost 150 years earlier, from the wall of the corridor. Heedless of the damage he would do to the edge of the ancient weapon or to the door, he swung it with all of the force that he was capable of at the handle and lock where they met the frame. No door could withstand that heavy ax driven by anger and the determination and solid muscles of a desperately driven youth caught up in love, as well as anger. As the lock inevitably failed under the onslaught and the wood splintered, the door was driven inward to slam up against the wall where it stayed. The servant warily followed Cedric into the room, not sure what might greet them. Better, that the young man had done that, than him, and would be the one to face Jeffrey’s anger and his sword. To his relief, Jeffrey had not risen up in anger from his warm marriage bed and attacked those who dared break into his room at such a time. Just as well, considering the mood that Cedric was in—and who could blame him?—his brother would likely have been met by that same ax coming down squarely upon his head. The room was quiet.

Cedric could see his brother lying on top of his bed with his back toward him. He had not moved. There was a woman’s body partially hidden there beside him, mostly out of sight. Both were still fully clothed in the wedding finery that they had retired in, on the previous evening. Cedric’s heart rejoiced at that, but he still worried about what he might find. Then he saw the young woman’s hand move and he heard his name. Soft and welcome music to his ears indeed! He rushed over and saw the chain wrapped about them both and secured with a padlock. His brother was certainly dead and warranted no more attention, but Ivy was alive and smiling up at him. She even seemed happy in her present predicament. Few brides ever might be, to be found lying beside a dead husband! There was but one thought in Cedric’s mind at that instant in time. He and Ivy had succeeded, despite the devious efforts of their parents and Jeffrey.

“Cedric.” She moved her free hand and pointed. “The key is in the ashes at the back of the fireplace. He threw it there last night when he realized what was happening to him.”

The servant was fidgeting and wondering how he might explain any of this to Sir William, with his younger son here, despite not being expected back for another few days, and his elder son dead. Fortunately, not by his brother’s hand. Not only that, but Jeffrey’s wife of the day before, utterly unconcerned by his death, was much more happy to see Cedric than any other man’s wife ought to be under the circumstances.

Simon knew more than he said, but he was looking at it as others undoubtedly would, if they blundered in upon this scene too soon. He spoke nervously. “Should I not go and get your father, sir? He should know of this as soon as possible.”

“Stay where you are, Simon!” Cedric was calmer now. “There is nothing he can do here, and I have other things to do without having my father come storming in just yet with his grief, his questions, and his accusations. From the look of Jeffrey’s cold body, I cannot be accused of murdering my brother, but I might not be able to say the same for my father if he were to interfere. Not after what he did.” The slow-burning anger in his voice was easily felt.

“Get the key from the fireplace. You heard what she said about where it is.”

Simon was well-aware that if Jeffrey truly were dead, and there could be little doubt of it, then Cedric was the heir, no matter what his father might say or do. He would have gone to let Sir William know, just as he should have done, and would plead that had been his intent, but with Cedric ordering him to stay, Sir William could not accuse him of being unmindful of what he should have done.

It had worked out as he had intended, and far better than he might have hoped. With his mind beginning to see all of the new possibilities and future improvements in the servants’ conditions, his allegiances—shaped by years of needing to survive—quickly changed as he saw the way that this would eventually unfold, and to the advantage of many in that household. Indeed, Sir William could, and would, wait. He moved over and rummaged in the back of the still-warm fire with the poker, and raked out the key from the dead ashes. He gingerly picked it up and blew on it as he juggled it. It was still hot, but not too hot. He could not help thinking that with Jeffrey dead, Sir William and his wife might not be far behind him, but best say nothing of that to anyone.

Cedric, meanwhile, had taken the hand of his brother’s wife, and had knelt beside her, kissing her tenderly, with his kisses eagerly returned, as he stroked her flowing red hair back from her brow. They neither of them gave heed to his elder brother lying lifeless beside them both, or the servant looking on as Simon decided in his own mind what he might tell Cedric’s father.

“Are you truly unharmed, my love?” Cedric looked down upon her with as much love in his face as she directed up at him. They both knew that his brother, her husband of just a few hours past, had never seen that look on her face. Jeffrey’s undoubted anger over that, and what she had told him and had relentlessly goaded him with, had somehow been the end of him before he might have violated her as he had planned to do. He might also have killed her soon afterwards, that night, or one soon after, and preferably before Cedric returned to take his own revenge upon his elder brother for what he planned to do, and for what he had done.

Cedric said nothing of the two dead men that he had left behind him on the road from Leeds. So many ill-laid plans of his father and brother, that had misfired! Instead, it was Jeffrey lying dead beside his bride, yet there was no blood to be seen, and no wound of any kind on either Ivy or his brother, that Cedric or the servant could see.

“I am as I was yesterday, my love, and the day before that. Yours, and yours alone as I have always been. I held him off for long enough for his own anger to defeat him.”

“How did he—?”

“Sh!” She stopped his question. “I will tell you all of it later, and the dreadful mischief that he played upon both of our families before he died, but not here.” Her glance fluttered to the servant, still close by and ready with the key. Simon fitted the key in the padlock, and undid the chain, binding bride and groom together. He would have been gentle taking it from the pair of them, but Cedric had no such intent, except to see that she would not be hurt. He lifted the free part from her, and then wrenched it violently, from under his brother, needing to lift his brother’s arm to do so, finding that he needed to break the arm bone or twist it out of its socket by tearing stiff muscle and ligaments to move it more, so that she could be freed completely from other turns of it.

His brother was as rigid as a board and had died many hours earlier. She had been chained to a corpse much of the night but could still smile up at Cedric as though she had been anywhere else than where she was. Thought of Cedric had comforted her, knowing that he would be the first to greet her on the following day when he learned of the treachery that both of their families had played in advancing the day of the wedding. He had returned early, as she knew he would, when he learned of it all. Simon had played his part in that by sending a warning to Cedric of what they planned, though no one else would learn of that.

Cedric helped her to her feet where she leaned against him as they held each other close and kissed. “Come, my love, we shall leave this wretched place. Had I known what they had planned while I was away I would never have gone without you. My father shall pay for this, and so shall yours.”

They would indeed! Simon could now see to that now that Jeffrey was dead, and now that Cedric was the heir. He knew where Jeffrey kept his poisons, and he would be able to find a use for them where they would do the most good for everyone, but especially for Cedric.

“There is but the one stop we need to make to see that this might never be repeated. The minister who cooperated in bringing about this travesty shall believe me when I tell him that my brother is dead, and that we are now free to marry each other as we should have done years ago. Failing that, his own blood shall decorate his altar as we say our own vows again there as we did to each other when we were children.”

He turned to the servant, who would not leave without the express permission of one who would soon be the new master, and sooner than he might know.

“Mark well the place that Jeffrey is buried, Simon. I have plans for him later. There shall be no rest for him after this.” Indeed, there would not. “I owe you my thanks for this, and letting me know what they were up to, even though it was too late for me to stop it. Just as well, or I would have probably killed both Jeffrey and my father. You may now go and let my father know that his elder son has departed this world to join his friends in hell, and that his younger son and his bride-to-be have gone. You may tell him that I shall return soon and claim all that is my due, and woe to him who tries to interfere in that.” Simon would dare tell him nothing of the kind.

Cedric looked about the room. He moved over to his brother’s body as Ivy held on to his sleeve, loath to be separated from him for even a second now. With some difficulty he removed the heavy ring from his brother’s stiff finger; a ring that proclaimed that this departed soul had been his father’s heir to all that was Thurston, and slid it upon his own. She was thankful that he had not needed to amputate his brother’s finger to remove it. She slid off her own marriage band, given to her that previous night, and threw it into the fireplace. Cedric picked up his brother’s sword from by the door, slipped the harness over his own shoulder and then held the young woman’s hand again. “Come, my love, we have another marriage to attend. Ours!”

He turned and smiled at the older man who had still not left. “I am sorry I spoke harshly to you earlier, Simon, but there may have been others listening.” Simon had already forgiven his new master. He well knew the passion that had motivated him. Cedric’s anger had been more than justified. “Try not to let my father see your joy over the death of my brother, and try to keep the rejoicing in the house after this to a minimum, especially tonight, though I know the house will be much happier now. You suffered at his hands almost as much as I did. When you hear the horses leave the courtyard, then you may tell my father what you will of this, and how I threatened you with violence to stop you rushing off to let him know.”

Simon watched them go. Sir William could wait. In truth his father’s future would be of a limited duration after this, for he was almost as well hated as his elder son had been. There were other things to do that were far more important. His keenly observant eyes had noticed a small vial on the floor under the table. It was the same kind of container in which Jeffrey was known to carry poison. Somehow, she had taken it from him and may just have poisoned him. No one might blame her if she had. She and Cedric were a well-matched pair, considerate and thoughtful of those they employed. Change was in the air. He could feel it beginning to change the atmosphere in the place already.

He picked the vial up and threw it into the back of the fire where it broke. The warm ashes would go into the midden later that morning. He recovered the chain with its padlock from the floor, and replaced it about the trunk it had been around the night before. After locking it again, replaced the key at Jeffrey’s belt, as he retrieved the key for the bedroom door. There was more had happened here than Sir William would ever be likely to find out, but Simon would try to ensure that there would be no easy accusations of murder, or witchcraft—if he could help it—from Jeffrey’s distraught and usually witless mother. Jeffrey had been well known to be too choleric for his own good. A suggestion that his passions of the night before had overcome him would not be out of place or be too unbelievable. Aye, that was it, and so he would suggest. His staring but lifeless and glazed eyes might lend some truth to it.

It would be impossible to undress him completely to lend truth to that impression with rigor freezing his limbs, but the clothing on the lower half of his body could be removed—unless she had castrated him, of course—as though eagerness to bring his weapon into play had overcome him just before he died, and then he could be partially covered with a blanket.

His new young wife, inconsolable at her dreadful loss and finding herself lying with a dead husband, had fled in horror. She had departed to blot out these tragic memories. Had Cedric not taken that ring, or his brother’s sword, Simon might almost plead that Cedric had never been here, but others had seen him arrive so that would not do. That explanation would suffice for the moment. Simon had a sharp enough mind when it was called for, but it was not wise for any servant to be telling his dull master anything that was not his master’s idea. He would need to lead him carefully. Sir William would need to believe that he was drawing those conclusions for himself. It may take Cedric’s father some days to see the full import of what had happened and what would change. It would not be a comforting recognition for him.

Simon also retrieved a small dagger from the floor. He had last seen that on Jeffrey’s new wife. Soon she would be Mrs. Cedric Thurston, as had always been intended. Two marriages in two days. He placed it on the table by the plates still containing some of last night’s banquet, after checking that there was no blood to be seen on it. That was a relief.

He heard the horses leave from the courtyard and looked about to see what else he may have missed. He tidied a few things and then, satisfied with what he saw, took the precaution of rinsing out the wine goblets with fresh wine and discarding the dregs out of the window. It would not do for any poison residue to be found, if that was what had seen Jeffrey off. He had one other thing to do before he told Sir William any of it. He had seen where Ivy’s ring had fallen in the ashes. He would recover that before he left. Better if that were not found here.

He could do nothing about the broken door. He still had an hour or more before Sir William might be stirring after that drunken celebration on the previous night as they had congratulated themselves on their success. He had been well into the wine along with Lady Thurston and the few guests that they had dared trust with their devious secret. He replaced the axe upon the wall and moved one of the tapestries to hide the damage to the blade. He would see to that later. The door might not be so much of a difficulty with some help to replace it.