literature

the Ellhorn

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My dear Mr. Topperwein, I hope that this note finds you well; I was distressed to hear about the turn your health has taken recently. If I may be so bold, Dr. Renard has called upon my dear mother for long years, both for her rheumatic fluctuations and her bouts of asthma, and I think his ministrations may do you wonders, should you see fit to act upon my recommendation.

Doubtless you have been growing short of patience on the matter regarding which you dispatched me to the countryside this April past.  You have always shown distinctive and boundless generosity as I have endeavored to represent your proprietary interests to the best of my ability, even as those interests lie far afield. It has always been a matter of great import that I may ensure your trust in me is well-placed, so I shall endeavor to explain my prolonged absence as best I may. Even so, I pause at sharing certain of the details of my errand in this note, as my clumsy attempts at narrating the more bracing events of that recent past may not sit well upon your breast under current circumstances. Given that, I shall try to stay close to the point, and leave the amateur theatricals to authors far more capable at treating them with appropriate gravity than your humble servant.

Then, as to the matter of the estate of Lord Garrison Hubrey, I commence. You will remember, certainly, the unfortunate consequences to which Lord Hubrey’s habits of laying odds had wrought upon his finances; particularly that most unfortunate turn of events at the Cleburn Stakes last autumn, after which he was compelled to settle accounts with yourself and your esteemed partners. As you are well aware, his lands and holdings stood to fulfill the greater portion of his obligation to you, and it was my task to board train down to Hubrey to ensure all transition would take place with due speed and process.

I confess to you, dear sir, that my family has never been altogether complimentary of the nobility; as you know, my own father, a man of rather choleric manners and years of service as an officer of the Grenadiers, was not endeared to the whims of the idle and well-to-do. With that, I must allow that Lord Hubrey was as gracious and accommodating a host as I have had the pleasure to make acquaintance. Would that we had met under more amicable terms; even so, my Lord had made it his mission to see that I was provided with comfortable lodgings in his house, and that all ledgers and matters of record as to the estate’s financial status were put at my immediate disposal. As you have come to expect, I dove into my work with customary abandon, and it was clear that I would require several weeks to ensure that all was in order to your satisfaction.

I shan’t vex you with pointless detail as to my travels and mealtimes spent in the care of Lord Hubrey, except to say that I gave his holdings a thorough appraisal. It is unfortunate that I found in him a man of which I could easily grow fond, for it is my great displeasure to report that though Lord Garrison Hubrey is adequately situated, he is in arrears to no fewer than seven other creditors in addition to yourself, to an extent that not even the immediate liquidation of his estate would satisfy any one of them.

As you might imagine, these intelligences wore so greatly upon me that I was overtaken with headaches and fever, and only reluctantly submitted to the care of a local country physician, one Dr. P——, who came at Lord Hubrey’s urging.

The man was competent enough, examining me with crisp efficiency and prescribing a daily cocktail of restoratives along with a week of bed rest, although I was somewhat bothered by the vagaries of his diagnosis. At the time, though, I assumed he did not wish to burden me, as fever-addled as I was, with superfluous clinical exposition, instead to leave me to my swift recovery.

I beg your pardon, my dear sir, for I have reached the point in my narrative where details must necessarily be abridged, not because I wish to remain mute upon the subject, but because such details frustratingly escape my ability to relate them. It appears that the restoratives administered to me under the care of Hubrey’s physician had distinctive narcotic properties, such that I frequently slept through the night and day, only to take brief nourishment in the late afternoons. My only visitors during my tenure in Hubrey’s rooms were the doctor himself, and one or another of Lord Hubrey’s house-servants which would see to my linens and nourishment, or to open the window to the spring air.

I would not even mention this strange period to you at all, and would be pleased to put it out of my memory, except for three singular incidents that occurred during those rare times when I was conscious enough to perceive them. The first had taken place well into the night; the air was still and clear, and it must have been the full bright of the moon that had awakened me, bathing the small room as it did through the overly-large, unshuttered window opposite my bed. Even pulling the rich blankets over my eyes did little to quell the moonlight, so I was forced to sit up and make my way with no small effort to the window, where I might close the shutters and resume my slumber.

So befuddled by medicine and fever was I that I did not adorn my feet with bed-shoes as is my custom, so you can imagine my surprise when my bare feet encountered what I could only presume were leaves littering the woven rug of my room. Even in my dazed state, it seemed to me that the sheer amount of leafy detritus upon the floor was far and beyond what it should have been for a room exposed to the elements by an open window for most of the night. That, and as you well know, my journey to Lord Hubrey’s estate had occurred in the midst of springtime, yet the floor was still matted with the things as if I were strolling down a country lane in October. I also had the impression, dear sir, that I only perceived the leaves covering the floor where the moonlight reached it; I had the distinct impression that, indeed, the whole of the room was dusted with the mess.

And such a scent! Sweet to the point of cloying it was, but not unpleasant. Still, under any other circumstances, such an awakening would have seen me seeking out the nearest servant and demanding a fresh room, or at least a swift resolution to such clutter. Even so, I was in no position or strength of mind to demand anything of anyone, and sought my bed even as my head swam with questions amidst my stupor.

As unnerving as this incident was, it does not compare to my experience the following evening, which I may be able to relate to you with a little more attention to detail, as by this point, my fever had broken, and I felt strong enough that, although Hubrey’s physician sternly dissuaded me from the course, I decided to forego the cocktail and enjoy a night of natural repose, as although I had slept almost continuously for four days, I felt as though I had gone without sleep for an equal share of time. In truth, I was spent, and I hesitate to tell you that my reflection in the mirror reminded me more of my own grandfather than myself.

So again, I was abed, and in a room made thankfully immaculate, although it had never been made clear to me exactly what the mess had been in the first place. The leaves were only my impression, you see; and there had been no trace of such conditions in the room when I rose the next day. This time, though, I had made sure that my window was firmly fastened, and the thick curtains pulled close. Though it is not my nature to be mistrustful of my hosts, I did not want any well-meaning intrusions upon my rest, so I fastened the latch on my door as well, before putting out my light and finally retiring.

Thus, despite my precautions, I was nevertheless awakened.  The room was completely dark, my having extinguished all light and possibility of the moon’s glare, and it was late enough that the fire had long since retreated into embers. As it was, I did not know right off what had brought me about, if anything, my room was so quiet as to be oppressive; perhaps I had grown comfortable with the slight breeze and the song of night-birds in my dreams through the open window up until now.

So my musings in the darkness progressed until, quite without preamble, I heard it, a faint, but unmistakable click. This was quickly followed by the slightest of breezes across my face. My nerves froze. My window was open, opening even now! There it was, the light of the moon, or what little of it managed to shine under the hem of the thick curtains, that billowed just a bit with the breeze.

Steeling my nerves and summoning all my strength, for I still was the worse for wear even without a shock to my nerves in the dead of night, I brought myself out of bed, and crept to where the sliver of moonlight showed beneath the heavy cloth that obscured the window. Gathering a curtain in each fist, I steeled my will once more and flung them open. I saw nothing, save the bright glow of the moon above, and an old Elder tree gently swaying with the night’s breeze outside.

Thankfully, there was no one about from whom I felt the need to hide my embarrassment. So it had been nothing but a tree in need of a pruning, probably scraping the window with branches allowed to grow too long, long enough even to deposit its rogue leaves into the sleeping chamber of a hapless process server. After all, it is well known what superstitious regard that these rural folk hold for the Elder; old Lord Hubrey probably had been unable to locate a gardener that would dare cut it back for fear of falling under a spell or some fey curse. I took myself back to bed, relieved at finding an earthbound reason for my night-shades, and shaking my head at my little adventure, fell fast asleep.

The next day, I still felt shy of any sort of recuperative rest, and Lord Hubrey suggested that I would benefit from some time outside, for the air, as much as a change of scenery, as I had seen little save my tiny sleeping chamber for the past week, and aught but ledgers and notarized affidavits prior to that.

I dare say that my amblings throughout that day did wonders to clear my mind, if not restore my vigor, and I resolved to return home the following day, having long overspent my leave beyond any further utility. Still, something about my walk around the grounds of Hubrey’s estate that day had bothered me, although I did not lay finger upon it until much later.

My dear Mr. Topperwein, you know I am a man not given to fanciful ventures or with ease to delusion, and I would swear upon any legal writ or Holy text that what I saw that day during my jaunt was as clear the morning was bright, and I would swear to you that my memory on the matter is beyond question, even though it has been some hours since, and night has once again fallen, and I write this in a shuttered, locked room, with curtains drawn tightly against the darkness.

Mr. Topperwein, today as I walked around the rear of the house to where my own window looked out upon the south gardens, I swear to you on the grave of my honorable father that there was no tree growing outside my room.

Of course, I questioned the servants, and even presumed to address the matter with Lord Hubrey directly, but no one remembered ever there being a tree rooted on that side of the house, of Elder or any other kind. As it is, I am seated at my writing-desk in my chamber in Lord Hubrey’s manor, and I shan’t sleep tonight. But even so, I cannot bring myself to draw the curtains aside and look out into that moonlight darkness again, for fear of seeing the shadowy branches there, or perhaps seeing nothing, and casting my own sanity into doubt.

You have my apologies for such a rambling and nonsensical missive, Mr. Topperwein. I will return on the morrow with my full report as to Lord Hubrey’s situation and prospects for settling affairs. I am now and always,

Your faithful and humble servant,

R.W.

--

Dear R.W.,

It has been three months since your letter dated April ——, with no further word on your whereabouts nor regarding resolution of the Hubrey matter. I regret to inform you that we have no choice but to terminate your arrangement with our firm. Best wishes for your continued health and opportunities.

M. Topperwein, Esq.
So, not my usual style. :paranoid:

This started as a possible entry into a contest at :iconfantasywritersunited:, where the only stipulation was that it had to involve a sentient tree.

I've always loved old ghost stories and mysteries that luxuriate in language and a slow burn of suspense. I guess this evolved into a clumsy homage to the form. At this point, I'm not even sure it's "fantasy" enough to fit into the category to which I've submitted it, much less to the contest, but what the hell.

Comments welcome.
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StuartLohe's avatar
Goal reached :nod: When I read it, I thought of Lovecraft, because I have to admit, I haven't read ghost stories as such except his. This isn't anything _that_ scary, thankfully, because I managed to read Lovecraft only in park, in plain sunlight in the middle of the summer. This is enjoyable even in the middle of the night, as I'm reading it now :salute:
And ahh, the language... joys of being native speaker (I'm not and my English is quite plain too).