Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #20 November 2015 | Page 68

“My God, listen to me,” I said aloud, laughing at myself as I got dressed from my bath. I couldn’t believe I was actually turning to the church. It was beyond ironic, and I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or cry. The short walk to t he abbey took me to the same place I had been the night before. Yet, in the daylight, it was much less frightening. I brought my cane since my foot was giving me trouble, and took my time getting there. Random monks looked at me in curiosity. Some scowled and some waved with a smile. I was an oddity: the missing lord of the estate. I might as well have been a ghost to them too. “Oh, hello, Devon,” said Abbot Hugh with a jovial, gentle voice. I had known him since I was a young boy, and he was a kind, calming face to see. I immediately requested that we speak in private, and he took me to his room. It was a small living space, but warm and cosy with flower pots on the window sill. “Oh, yes, I’ve sometimes heard her in the night. I’m so sorry you experienced her terror on the first night of your return.” “No matter,” I replied, “but… is there nothing that can be done?” “Well,” sighed the abbot, “we’ve tried our usual methods, and sadly, she does not respond. The poor girl…” I looked in his blue-grey eyes and wondered what he was hiding. “Did you know her, Abbot?” Again, Abbot Hugh sighed, then said, “Yes, you see… I believe the ghost was my niece. I think you knew her quite well, if I recall.” My stomach dropped and my eyes widened with fear. “Your niece?” I asked, trying my best to remain calm. “Are you referring to Mary?” Abbot Hugh nodded and said, “Yes, unfortunately, my poor niece died a few months after you left for the war. She had… an accident.” I could feel my throat and stomach tighten as I muttered, “What… sort of accident?” “I don’t know how to tell you this, Devon, but... Mary died of complications from a miscarriage. She made me promise not to tell you, for you had been through quite enough with almost getting permanently disowned by your domineering aunt. It’s the truth though, and I would have contacted you about her death, but, well, the stories I heard about you in Italy… I just didn’t think you’d want to be disturbed by the news.” I nearly leapt from my seat and lunged at him. “How could you keep this from me, Abbot?!” I blurted out. “She was my truest love! Was the child mine? It was, wasn’t it? Oh, dear God, why didn’t she tell me? I would have married her, despite my aunt! I swear, Abbot, I would have!” Abbot Hugh simply looked at me while I ranted, sadly nodding in return. He had nothing to say except that he was sorry. After I yelled and raved, I finally cried, and the gracious, elderly abbot before me held me in his tender arms. “It is alright, my poor boy,” he said as he patted my back. “How is it alright?” I asked him. “My dear Mary is in torment, and I have to help her. We MUST help her. If you believe in heaven and hell, Abbot, you must help me send her to heaven. Despite succumbing to my need for her, she was a good, loving soul, and she deserves to be at peace. It isn’t her fault that she died in such pain. The fault is all mine.” “No, Devon,” said Abbot Hugh. “Don’t blame yourself for the flame of love. It is perfectly natural. I saw how you two loved each other. I know you would have married her… if only we could go back in time and convince my niece.” 68