Dragonheart Part 8
Heero halted Wing atop the last hill that bordered the Yuy property. Irregular fields stretched out ahead like a patchwork quilt. Varying shades of green mingled with wild flowers in a breathtaking panorama. Normally one would be elated to finally be returning home especially a soldier who had survived the war. There should have been immeasurable joy, a hurried race of steed and rider to get back to hearth and home and the love of family and friends.
But Heero felt none of those sentiments or sensations. There was no anticipation, no sense of delight, instead uncertainty weighted heavily on his heart. What would be his reception? Had time cooled his father's anger or had the severance fueled the flames?
"You won't find out sitting here." he muttered.
Heero squared his shoulders and bolstered his courage. Tapping his heels he put Wing in motion down the hill, through the orchard, passed the shire horses grazing lazily in the pasture. Two boys herding sheep to the barn paused to watch the stranger coming down the lane on his inky stallion.
One raised his hand to shield his eyes. "Who are you?" he called out loudly.
The taller of the pair leaned on his prodding stick and studied the mysterious rider. A wide grin spread across his face as memories sparked recognition. "Master Yuy is that you?" Turning to the other youth he excitedly answered his own question. "Saints be praised it is you." he shouted now certain that the wandering heir had come home.
"Hello Edwin." Heero replied with recognition of his own. "Who is this?" he nodded to the other boy.
"John, sir." the boy responded coping the low bow that he had seen the gentlemen do in their greetings.
"He's newly arrived sir." Edwin explained stepping up beside the Yuy heir, "Come from Darbyshire this past fall."
Heero gazed beyond the boys narrowing his eyes to just make out the roof of Yuy Manor. A twinge of sadness mixed with his uncertainty. "How is everything at the house? Is my father well?" The soldier in him wanted to gauge his welcome so he could have some strategic plan in place before facing his father.
Edwin glanced at John and Heero could read the indecision in his eyes. Digging the toe of his boot in the sandy soil Edwin would not meet Heero's cobalt gaze.
Heero straightened in the saddle and put on an air of authority. "Edwin the truth."
"Well sir...your father sir...he ain't been in the best of moods...not for a long time. Edwin raised his head giving Heero what he wanted---the truth. "He keeps mostly to himself especially when he's out ridin' in the dark."
"Thank you." Heero sighed as he realized that a favorable response might not be forthcoming. "Now see to the sheep." he urged the boys to finish their chores.
*********
As Heero rode up the tree lined lane the old house loomed above him. The garden that had been his dearly departed mother's pride and joy had been neglected. Weeds replaced the beautiful blooms that once flourished among the boxwoods. The rose trellises had also fallen into disrepair and the fragrant flowers had long ago lost their multicolored splendor. Stringy vines wound around the pillars supporting the second story balcony and strangled over the railing in muddled confusion.
No servant appeared, no stable hand to take his horse. There was no one to bid a welcome. The house stared through curtained windows like a dead man's vacant eyes. Heero shivered not from the evening chill blowing about his cape but from the utterly lifelessness that surrounded the house. This place, his boyhood home, had been forsaken and maybe Heero had been forsaken as well.
Wing must have sensed his master's apprehension. The steed balked by the gate snoring nervously. "Easy boy." Heero whispered as he dismounted and tied the reins to a rusty hitching post.
The front steps creaked with each climb and the porch groaned under Heero's boots. He raised his hand to knock then remember that he did not need permission to enter his own house. His hand trembled as it closed around the knob, his breathing quickened as he slipped the latch and opened the door.
The front parlor was dim. The heavy curtains not only kept the sunshine at bay but also muffled any outside noise. There was a stale scent of dust and a dampness that the lack of sunlight could not disperse. The wide staircase was covered with an equally foul amount of powdery residue that was disturbed by a narrow path of footprints.
Heero pulled off his cape, draped it over his arm and stated out to find if any living soul still occupied the sunless abode.
Muted footsteps told Heero that he was not alone. Following the striking sounds he made his way down the hall to the kitchen. Cautiously peering around the doorframe the recently returned warrior took up a defensive posture. His hand rested on his sword. Fingers slid through the hilt grip ready to unsheathe the bladed weapon should someone challenge his presence.
Peeking further he saw a figure reentering the kitchen from the pantry. He blinked not to focus his sight but to ward off the tears. Now a lump in his throat joined the brimming tears. "Anna."
The loyal housekeeper who had taken the role of Heero's surrogate mother froze in place at the calling of her name. Slowly she turned hoping against hope that her senses had not been compromised by age or fooled by her fervent wishes that the voice did indeed belong to Heero.
The woman who had comforted a lonely ten-year-old who was suddenly without his mother's gentle care and wisdom studied the indistinct outline standing by the door. The lad was taller, broader though the shoulders and his voice had taken on the baritone of maturity.
"Heero?" She questioned then held her breath praying that the man standing before her was flesh and bone and not a product of her wishful thinking.
"Yes Anna it's me."
"Oh Heero." Anna broke down weeping as she embraced the warrior who was, in her mind, still a child.
Heero buried his face in Anna's shoulder and also wept. Years of pain burst forth in those unrestricted tears. Past memories and his experiences of war tore at Heero's heart like a thousand steely knives, as he once again became that young boy who was lost and alone.
"I thought that I would never see you again." Anna choked out her fears.
Heero eased back enough to see the kind woman's timeworn face. Her brown eyes had been dulled by worry and the glimmer was gone. She seemed frail, merely a shadow of herself. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not taking other's feelings into consideration when I decided to leave."
Anna took in a steadying breath, "You did what you felt was right, no one can blame a man for that."
"I suppose but I am still sorry for your fret and worry." He apologized kissing Anna's cheek.
Anna wiped her eyes with her apron then stood back for a better look. "You look well enough but you are too thin. Sit down and I will fix you some supper."
Heero took Anna's arm to stay her awhile longer. "First I must see Odin."
"So it is Odin now?" Considering how they had parted Anna wasn't surprised by Heero's formality towards his father but she had hoped that the time apart would have softened Heero's bitterness.
"For now it is Odin. Where is he?"
"In the great room but perhaps I should tell him you are here."
Heero shook his head, "No I want to see how he acts without preparation."
Anna took Heero's hand, "If it does not go well are you going to leave me again?"
"No matter what happens I will not leave." Heero declared, "From what I have seen this place needs a new master."
"Be careful." Anna advised as she was well aware of Odin Yuy's unpredictable disposition.
*********
Mirroring the rest of the house the great room was spread over in the same curtained gloom. More coats of dust and that ever-present clamminess followed Heero inside as he boldly stepped through the double doors.
However an additional odor had been added to this particular room, the reek of fermented brew saturated the air. Odin slouched in a faded chair by the cold fireplace staring into the imaginary flames. His clothes were rumpled, his hair unkempt. An empty wine bottle lay on the floor; another bottle sat on a side table. A silver goblet was held loosely in wine-slackened fingers.
With the liquor working its altering influence Odin did not notice Heero's approach, neither did he acknowledge the other man's presence as his son stepped up beside the chair. "Odin Yuy."
It took several seconds for his name to creep through Odin's drink-fogged mind. Heero was about to repeat the calling when his father braced his feet and pushed into a more upright posture. Sluggishly he turned to discover the sound's source. His eyes squinted to center on the unfamiliar figure standing within arm's reach.
Odin's compromised sight wandered up the stranger's height. How much of the soldier's garb, the sword at Heero's side registered in his muddled brain was not evident in his unfocused gaze. Eyebrows pulling together and face frowning Odin Yuy struggled to decipher the brew bewilderment that numbed his mind and made his vision fuzzy. "Who are you?" The question came in slow, garbled syllables.
"Heero Yuy."
Odin's expression took on a puzzlement. "Heero?" A long uneasy pause followed then a snort shattered the silence. "So my war-whoring son as returned." he spat out the sharp slurred words.
Heero's tightened his jaw, his hand closed around his sword. It was taking all of his willpower not to draw his weapon and put an end to Odin's insults once and for all. But despite his anger, Heero was determined that he would not give into his father's goading.
As a solder he had to rise above the barbs. Heero's newly developed maturity had to resist the drunken diatribe but if his father raised his hand, if he sought the same abuse that Heero had suffered as a child then his sword would surly taste blood.
Heero narrowed his sight until his eyes were thin slits of blue. "That's right I am home."
A mixture of amusement and annoyance flickered across Sir Odin's face. So the defiant boy had come back and now he fancied himself a man. "I told you that if you left you had no home." he reminded his stubborn son.
Heero leaned closer daring to lock his sight with his father's blurry eyes. "From the neglect I see I would say that someone has to keep this place from falling apart."
"And I suppose you think that you are that someone?" Odin stated standing up to sway on wobbly legs.
Heero tightened his grasp on the sword's hilt, "When you find yourself sober then we will discuss my home and my place in it. Now I suggest that you go sleep off your overindulgence before you do something that you will regret."
The glare in Heero's eyes, the taut muscles budging under his shirt and the white knuckled grip on his sword left nothing else to say. The church might teach to honor thy father but Heero would be damned if he would give any undeserved respect to the drunken fool tottering before him.
"Sleep it off," he growled out the final warning. Without another word Heero pivoted and stalked out of the room.
Suddenly more sober Odin stood in wide-eyed shock. He could not believe that the boy who had left with the absurd notion of becoming a soldier had come back so much of a man. But man or not, no one, not even his only heir was going to take his place as master of the house.
"Oh I will sober up and when I do there will be hell to pay." Odin promised grabbing up the bottle and flinging it against the wall, "You had better watch your back Heero."
*********
Heero fed and settled Wing in the stables. Twilight spread purple shadows over the kitchen as Anna served a supper of venison stew and fresh flour bread. Heero declined the wine preferring to keep his mind clear and his reactions swift. He had no intensions of copying his father's inebriated condition and the sloppiness it induced.
Anna related the last year's events. She told how Odin was first incensed by Heero's leaving then how he had slipped into a depressed state and turned to wine for his comfort.
Unfortunately the liquor's mind manipulation had incited a form of madness. "Your father goes from sullen to fits of rage without warning." Anna declared with a hint of dread in her voice. "He has chased away most of the servants and the field hands don't come to the house unless it is necessary. The manor has been allowed to deteriorate and I can't keep it up by myself." she finished with a weary sigh.
Heero took Anna's hand running his thumb over her callused palm. "Things will not remain that way." he promised.
"Heero you must be careful. You might be able to reason with your father when he is sober but when he is drinking...." her words trailed off in frustration.
"I can take care of myself. I don't want you to be concerned."
"But..."
Heero squeezed Anna's hand then let it go and stood up. "Let's have no more worry tonight. I am exhausted and my mind is too tired to think. In the morning when I am rested then we will speak of this again."
"At least let me make up your bed."
Heero gathered up his cape and his sword and planted an appreciative kiss on Anna's forehead. "Thank you but I can manage." A grin spread over his lips, "I have learned several useful things over the last year." Then he offered a sassy wink, "I might surprise a lot of people around here."
*********
Anna gazed after the exiting soldier, the forlorn boy who had burgeoned into manhood. The frightened child who would sneak into her quarters next to the kitchen to seek refuge when his father's temper flared hot and his hands flew free had grown up.
When Heero scraped his knee or had been taunted by the servant's children, when life was too much to bear and he couldn't cry in front of anyone else, the lonely lad would come to Anna. Sir Odin would have had a fit if he had known of his son's closeness to a mere servant, after all, Anna should "know her place".
Anna smiled as she remembered when Heero had expressed concern over his unauthorized visits getting her into trouble. "Don't worry Heero," she had replied. "we all need a few secrets in our lives and this is a special one between you and me. And special secrets," she declared, "are never found out."
"Are you too old for secrets now?" Anna wondered with a sigh.
TBC...
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