Free Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 10] - Lanterns by Patricia Veryan

inside and climbed to his
room. Five minutes later, troubled, and wishing Aunty Dova and Fanny
had not gone into the village, she set out.
    He wouldn't have gone there again—he
wouldn't!
Not after what had happened yesterday. But she remembered the light in
his eyes when they'd rested on the sword that morning, and remembering
also his awed voice murmuring, "He's got a donkey!" she walked a little
faster through the lodge gates.
    When she came near to Lanterns she paused, her eyes searching
the weedy grounds and the great sprawl of the house. There was no sign
of her brother, or indeed of any life. Mrs. Gillespie's superstitions
were nonsense, of course, but the silence was rather unnerving, and she
found herself unwilling to go down there. Instead, she called, her
clear voice echoing briefly, then dissipating, as if blown away by the
breeze so that the quiet seemed more intense than before. Surely, if
Arthur was here, he would have heard her? But the house was so old; the
walls were likely very thick and might blot out sound. She started down
the slope with slow reluctance.
    Last evening she had been so fearful for her brother that
she'd paid little attention to the house. Now, she scanned it
curiously. It was a long structure. The wing closest to the edge of the
cliffs had been constructed with stone blocks, and pre-dated the newer
addition by, she would guess, several centuries. The first Lanterns had
been a rectangular, westward facing, two-storey hall with a
high-pitched roof, probably a later improvement, dramatised at the far
southern end by a great gable. The only windows, which were tall and
narrow, were high up, at the first-floor level. The newer addition was
very large and far less stark, its brick and timber quite charming, in
fact. It rose to the same two storeys as the original pile and
culminated in another great gable. A single-storey central wing
connecting the buildings was evidently the principal entrance. It was
dignified by a great round-headed front door, recessed under a stone
archway and approached by a low bridge, that might at one time have
been a drawbridge. There were more and wider windows, several of which
were broken and had been boarded up.
    She was intrigued to see that the manor had originally been
protected by a moat, of which traces still remained in the form of
overgrown sunken gardens threaded with stepping-stones. About a hundred
yards east of the manor were the sagging remains of a gigantic barn and
several outbuildings.
    Indignation gripped Marietta. The original wing, of course,
was past hope, and looked ready to tumble down the cliff at any moment,
as the southern end of the moat appeared to have done. But the newer
part of the house, although also very old, had once been beautiful, and
could be again were it not so shamefully neglected.
    The gable of the north wing towered over her. Hesitating, she
had the sudden conviction that she was watched. She looked about
uneasily. A clump of tall hollyhocks by the ruined barn swayed
suspiciously. Chilled, she could almost hear Mrs. Gillespie's ominous
words: "He's Old Nick… Come back to get more souls!" Impatient with her
skittery nerves, she thought,
    'Do stop being so silly, Marietta Warrington! The hollyhocks
moved because the breeze blew them, of course!'
    She left the drive-path which led to the low bridge across the
moat and the central front door and walked back instead to the
stepping-stones. Negotiating them with care, she made her way around
the end of the house to what she judged to be the tradesmen's entrance.
There was no response to her knock, and lifting the latch she pushed
the door open. Surprisingly, it did not creak, and she stepped into
what must have been the scullery. It was unoccupied, as were the
buttery and pantry, and the gigantic kitchen, which was astonishingly
neat. She gazed uneasily at the fire which burned in the stove. Again,
she called, and again there was no response. She should leave at once,
but she