A Fortress Unto Himself

I wrote this as a bedtime story for a friend of mine long ago, and only just rediscovered it. Spent the morning touching it up.

                A long time ago, along the coast of Spain, a man lived in ancient family castle on the cliffs. His name was James Eduardo Kilgore, his father having been an Englishmen who had fallen for a Spanish beauty. His parents, having died some years ago, had left the castle to him, to run and maintain. Every night, something woke him, and he could find no cause for it. He had horses and servants, wine and food, clothes and furniture of a most exquisite fashion. Yet there was this, emptiness to his life, magnificent as it was. Surrounded by splendor, yet touched by some ghost of a feeling. He mused on it for many days and nights, to no avail.

                 One day, as he had his tea on the veranda, he asked his principle servant, Julio, “What is this, which wakes me up at night?”

                Julio smiled sadly and poured his master his tea.

                “Loneliness,” he answered, and walked back inside. He had seen the boy grow to manhood, but there had always been something lacking, his parents having sent him off to the best school in the country, before being taken by the Influenza. He had finished his learning, only to come back to a home empty of family, empty of companionship, empty of love. Julio knew, but James, James did not.

                The very next day, a ship crashed up on the rocks. The servants, who went into town frequently, were all abuzz with it, and James felt the need to investigate. He had the servants saddled his favorite steed, Farenzuela, and off he rode, using his knowledge of the currents to find the beach they had washed up on, not that far from the castle. He was the first to find it, the rumors only having been circulated that there had been a crash, and not where it ended up. Amongst the broken bits of wood and canvas, rope and iron, there were a great many bodies, some of which were still breathing. With the help of his servants, James brought back the survivors, and buried those that did not make it. There were many rooms of the family castle that had remained untouched for years now, and the servants, who had grown used to a slower life than when the former masters ruled, were, not happy, per say, but relieved almost to be able to open those wings once more for company.

                The castle was a bustle with activity, cooking and tending and cleaning as had not been seen in a long time, and it warmed the hearts of the townspeople as much as it did the survivors of the wreck, to know that just a compassionate man lived here, and that he was willing to share his home with those in need.

                After three days of care, the survivors began to come too. Having been away at school, James knew several languages, and was able to answer most, if not all, of their questions, in their native tongue. One of the first to awaken was a beautiful woman with deep blue eyes and light brown hair, a woman unlike any in Spain. She searched for her father, and he was soon located. Reunited, the two cried with joy. However, it was not over. A great many were still unconscious. Once she was fed and cleaned up, she searched for the man she was betrothed to. He too was quickly located, among the deceased.

                Her father, one Darrik Pazle`, attempted to comfort her, but this was the kind of grief not easily quieted, the kind of pain not easily healed. There was no consoling the poor woman. James wanted to help, but more and more of the survivors were gaining consciousness, and need tending to. They began, at his request, to make themselves at home, and some offered to help out around the castle, a well received gesture, as there were only some many servants able to attend to the parts of the castle that needed the most attention in this situation. It was some weeks before all was in order, and a routine had been established.

On the first of the new month, Darrick came before him and, explaining his daughter’s situation, and how she was locked in a room on the third floor, asked if there was anything James could do. James assured the man that he would do everything in his power to bring her peace, and help her through this difficult time. The father, much relieved, thanked his host and offered to show the chefs one of his best dishes. James gratefully accepted, and the father went on his way. James spent the rest of the day checking in on the last of the ill, and tending to the affairs of castle as a whole, all the while, considering what was to be done about the daughter. Dinner came about, and the aroma of the meal was divine. The chefs had used what was available to complete the recipe, and had done magnificently. As this was the father’s meal, James decided there was only one course of action. That night, James took a dinner platter up to the room.

                “Who is it,” a hoarse voice asked as he knocked on the door.

                “Dinner,” was all he replied.

                “Go away.” Not wishing to push his luck, he left, and ate before the ocean view.

                Again, the next night, he did the same. And still she refused. James did not become discouraged though, nor did he tell the father of his trouble. He simply refused to give in, and redoubled his efforts. Soon, he was bringing her every meal, and one night, unable to hold out against his persistence, she allowed him inside the room.

                “Set it on the table,” she said as he walked in. There was a small table near the door, and he did so, before leaving. This too continued for a week. This was progress, and James was more than happy to share the news with the father. He was overjoyed to know that he had made contact, even if miniscule. There was hope yet. And so it continued. Day in, day out.

                “Set it on the bed,” was her next command.

                Another week passed.

                “Here,” she said, her voice having grown to a timbre and volume far more natural. When he did, she caught a glimpse of him, and screamed when she saw who it was. Never had she dreamed that it was James himself. Startled, he set down the tray, and rushed out the door. Heart beating fast, he leaned against the wall. She had taken a dress from the wardrobe, as it had once been a dressing room for his Aunt, who had, like most of the relatives, moved away after the death of his parents, believing the old place to be haunted. The dress was a modest shade of deep red, which took on a whole new sheen in the dwindling light from the window. She never lit any of the candles, and her hair was not brushed, but there she was nonetheless, a beauty incomparable to the polished ladies of the court, a woman beautiful in her own way.

                Day rose, and some of the survivors began to leave the castle, some on their way to find a boat back home, some to start over in town. James gave them whatever supplies he could, the people thanking him for all he had done, and going down the road. Night began to fall, and James, very much aware of the encounter last night, brought the platter up to the room once more. He was slowly being let farther and farther in, and wanted to see what would happen next. No longer was this solely for the father. That night, when he arrived, a candle was lit. He smiled as he brought the platter over to her, and set it down on the table. As he turned to leave, she smiled at him, a rare sight, and one worth seeing.

                “My name is Laura.” He smiled back.

                “Mine is James,” he replied, and she smiled. Again, he left quietly, but this time, with intent. He found Darrick, and informed him that all was well, that his daughter was back to normal. Ecstatic, the man hugged James and said that the next night, HE would personally cook dinner, but this time, her favorite meal. All the next day, the servants were frantic as Senor Pazle had them running all over town, and the castle, for preparations. It just so happened that he had been a head chef at a large estate, and that one of the deceased had been his master. Which was no wonder, as the first meal of his had been as wonderful as it had been.

                That night, James ascended the stairs, platter in hand. She met him at the door and smiled. Following her back to the small table she had decorated for eating, he placed the platter down, but kept his hand on it.

                “Your father is happy that you are feeling better. He has thrown me a feast. I would like you to come down stairs with me.” Laura blinked, but said nothing. The silence wore on, and James was forced to nod. “Perhaps another time,” He smiled once more, and left her to her meal.

                It was a grand feast, and as the dessert was being brought out, James saw Laura out of the corner of his eye, at the top of the staircase. Quick as he saw her, she saw him, and fled back up.

               

Night turned to day, and day waned on.

               

James ascended the stairs, platter once more in hand. Again, she opened the door, now in a blue dress that fit her quite well. As he set down the tray and turned to leave, she spoke.

                “Please stay.” He turned, and smiled, before opening a cabinet and removing a spare wine class and sat in a chair on the other side of the room, his favorite on the entire floor.  He watched her as she ate, noticing the delicate curve of her mouth, in contrast to the sharp line of her jaw and the sweep of her brow. Her hair framed her face well, and shone in the candle light. There was something about her, though, something intangible, which evoked a feeling in him like nothing else. A feeling of warmth and lightness, a feeling he had never known. Still puzzling, he drank his wine and watched. She finished and smiled, and as he went to leave, she asked him a question.

                “Why.” He stopped and turned his torso and head to see her.

                “Care to elaborate?” He asked.

                “Why did you continue?” She rephrased.

                “Because it would have been against my code to let you starve….and to see such a treasure waste away. A beauty like yours was never meant to waste away, hidden from the world.” He smiled, and left the room.

               

Night passed to day, and day soon faded too.

               

The castle was getting quieter, as more people began to leave. Some had asked to stay, and work near the village, or helping around the castle for good, and he was more than happy to have them, but it was a very small group. With a sigh, almost grateful, almost sad, some of the rooms were closed once more. James climbed the stairs, a larger platter than normal with him. Knocking on the door, he was greeted by a smiling Laura. He set the platter down, but kept a hand on it. She looked up at him.

                “May I join you?” He asked, and she smiled once more, wider than ever.

                “Of course,” she replied, and he grinned, pulling the chair closer to the table. He took the top of the platter, to show that he had already expected her to say yes. She seemed, unsurprised as they ate and drank in a comfortable silence, and before he turned to leave, she stood. By the time he rose, she was already beside him. He turned to find her there, and she blushed, before kissing him on the cheek.

                “Thank you.” Was all she said as explanation, but it was all that was needed. He kissed her hand, and left.

                The first part of the evening, he relayed to the father, who was pleased that she was well once more, but the latter halve, the latter halve he left to himself.

               

Night wore on, and day arrived and left.

               

“Come in,” she said when he knocked, and he entered. The room was looking better and better as time went on. A tenant seemed to be all the place had needed. They ate in silence, and James found that they could enjoy the company of one another this way. The meal ended, and once more, she kissed his check, and he her hand, before he departed. As he entered the kitchen, the people smiled. They were well aware where this final plate came from. It was not much of a secret now, what with the spring in the master’s step, the glow that accompanied his every word, the new sparkle in his eye.

                The nights went on in this fashion for a week, before James grew bold, and he answered her kiss in kind, making the quick bound after the meal from hand the check. She blushed, and wished him good night. Later, as he made the rounds of the rooms the people were living and one man asked him where he was these days. The new members of the household missed him at dinner. James smiled and explained the situation, and the man, who had decided on being a gardener, smiled and nodded. He understood what the young sir meant, even if he didn’t know himself.

                This too went on for a week, until a new thought struck him. He added a third kiss, on her forehead. The servants knew something was happening, because they’d hear her seemingly giggling to herself as she brushed her hair in the morning. One night, as he finished the final kiss, she smiled, and now kissed his as well. The late night staff smiled as they saw him strolling down the corridors, humming a pleasant tune as he went. It was growing more and more apparent as the days passed.

                She continued to do so for a week, and the castle had given up seeing him for dinner. They knew what was going on better than he did, but she was beginning to see it. So that night, when they finished their meal, she moved her head ever so slightly when he went to kiss her on the cheek. James’ eyes went wide as when his lips touched hers, rather than her skin, but as their eyes met, hers closed, and he realized that this was what she wanted. He gave in to her plan, and kissed her for all she was worth, which to him was the entire castle and more.  

                “Goodnight,” she said their faces but inches apart.

                “Goodnight,” he replied, a smile now on his face. He left, and, as he lay in bed that night, felt something stirring within him. A sort of contentment he was not familiar with...but it sure felt nice. He slept comfortable, and that morning woke refreshed and felt better than he ever had before. He asked, then, of Julio,

                “What is this, which makes me feel so?”

                Julio smiled and poured the young man his tea.

                “Love,” he replied simply. And so, each meal was concluded with a kiss. Days went by, and James made a decision. He came to Senor Pazel, and, as best as he knew how, asked the man for his blessing, for James, you see, wanted to marry Laura, and the father laughed with a knowing smile. He had had a feeling this would come about, and James smiled, for he wanted them to live with him until the end of their days. Her father was more than willing to accepted, and with his blessing, James set out to Laura. The castle was abuzz with the news, as the Senor told as many people as would listen, so it was only natural that word got to Laura. When James opened the door, she greeted him in a flowing blue dress, her hair curled ever so slightly, bouncing around her face.

                His heart jumped just looking at her. Here was the radiance that had been there all along, and had only now been fully revealed. What more could he ask of this world than to see that every day and night, from now until his last day on this world? He moved forward, and she smiled as he started to kneel, but she stopped him, and brought him close.

                “Yes,” was all she said, and the two were made one the very next morning. It was a grand ceremony, and the castle had new life.

A moral, you say? Well…sometimes, you have to lose the greatest thing in your life to find something better.