Castle In The Clouds, Chapters 37 & 38 (standard:drama, 2982 words) [18/21] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Oct 16 2010	Views/Reads: 2406/1836	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Llewellyn is losing touch with sanity, but the effects spread well beyond him. Continuation of my drama.

Chapter Thirty Seven 

Llewellyn had watched the doctor enter and he'd seen him depart; he'd
watched from a distance as he'd examined Dawson's lifeless body. He'd 
seen the shake of the head which told it all. 

So Dawson was dead; he was alone - but that was the only way. Only he
could drive the Devil from Veronica - and there was but one way of 
doing it - 

And he didn't have to wait long; he was elated about that. Because all
of a sudden he saw her emerging from the vicarage, her lovely red hair 
blown in fine wisps around her neck and face. 

He couldn't believe it would be that simple - she had delivered herself
to him. His eyes met hers and his mind struggled to focus, yet she 
wasn't wearing her sweet smile as she walked towards him, directly into 
his path. 

His grip on the sabre tightened, the handle fitting like a glove in his
hand - the blade so silver and pure - 

And then she spoke. He cocked his head; he hadn't expected that, for no
words seemed necessary. 

*                      *                    * 

'Put the saber down, Thomas; you no longer have use for it.' 

Llewellyn raised the curved tip to the bridge of his nose and seemed to
gaze upon it lovingly, angling his head from side to side. 'I do 
Veronica, for it has not yet finished its good work.' 

'And what work is that, Thomas?' Veronica continued her walk towards
him, her voice cutting through the wind. 'You think I am the "target" 
for that good work do you not; the voice of reason has deserted you?' 

'You have been harmed by the gardener, irreparably I fear. Though your
soul will rest in peace, unlike the wretched man who has so tainted 
you.' 

'You cannot hold anything against John Gibbings.' Veronica kept her eyes
steady, aware of Llewellyn's hands levelling the blade. 'I alone am 
responsible for my actions. There has been no misguiding force, no 
unholy influence Thomas. If anyone deserves your wrath it is me.' 

The sabre began to shake in Llewellyn's hands, he was close enough now
should he suddenly surge forward, to pierce her stomach. 

'Veronica my dear, you were as pure as newly laid snow - until he
contaminated your mind with impure thoughts - sadly there is little 
more to say, no further use for words.' 

So little time to decide what to do; she could tackle him for the sabre
but one thrust would put an end not only to her but John also - 

She clasped her hands together, held them out. 'It is not too late,
Thomas - I have seen the folly of my ways, and shall return with you to 
the castle; forgive me, Thomas, and toss that thing aside.' 

Llewellyn trembled, rain glistened on his face and his eyes fell on the
blade. 'Even were I to do that, the accursed gardener would remain.' 

'I have told you, Thomas,' Veronica said taking a step forward, 'it is
not the gardener who is responsible. It is me. You are not well, 
Thomas, let me look after you - let John Gibbings be, you have almost 
killed him as it is - if you pursue your course there will be nothing 
left.' 

'You would return to the castle with me and become my bride?' His eyes
swelled, their whites bright against the smoky sky. 

Veronica gave silent assent, forcing her eyes to meet his, 

'Then I will get the vicar, he will marry us now -' 


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