Raven's Heir | ONC 2021 honourable mention

9 - Dark secrets

I slumped down on my bed and buried my head in the cushion, blaming myself double for Lou's misfortune. After all, it had been my clever-not-so-clever idea to send Guillaume after the ravens.

Sir Guillaume's ghost frowned. "Do you feel unwell, my lady? You're almost as pale as your friend."

"Theo? Hardly, he's the prototype of a vampire if I ever met one, including the sex appeal. But I've seen him drinking beer and coffee, he's as human as you and I—" I sat up and leaned against the wall. "Well, as I. No, I feel guilty for the attack earlier. If I hadn't asked you to talk to the ravens, you wouldn't have taught them to fly through walls."

The way he rubbed his beard reminded me of Lou. "Um. I gather you don't think this was a great idea, but they seemed happy zapping back and forth through the guard's house."

"If only they would stick with the guard's house. Is this their normal hideout?"

"I wouldn't know, they appeared only a few weeks ago. They might have risen from the lake."

Interesting—and consistent with the information we got from Lou. By now, I was convinced the cottage by the lake contained the key to the riddle. "I wish we knew what they want. Their attacks seem random. Why bothering a group of innocent tourists?"

"Ah, there you make a common human mistake. How can you know the tourists are innocent?" The ghost had a point. "In my experience, humans carry more dark secrets than you'd want to believe. Take my unlucky descendant, Hughes de Grandmont, for example."

"Should I have heard of him?" I wondered if the idea to interview Sir Guillaume was as brilliant as it appeared at first.

He interrupted his pacing, and the gaze of his glowing eyes threatened to drill holes into my chest. "The British ladies insisted you were interested in local history."

Thanks, Alice and Catherine. "I am catching up, but Hughes never crossed my path yet—another local ectoplasmic celebrity?"

"No, he's long gone. He was the last of my countless offspring to hold the castle, in the fourteenth century. Unfortunately, he enjoyed a lavish lifestyle. Had to raise a mortgage on the estate to finance the continuous festivities." Guillaume pulled out the chair, slumped down, and crossed his legs, showcasing his translucent, pointed leather boots.

"Now, the man who lent him the money was his best friend, Pierre Gervais. They were great pals, and Pierre convinced Hughes to declare him as his sole heir. Behaving like the stupid, arrogant aristocrat he was, Hughes did. Only to find himself and his manservant poisoned after dinner with Pierre, headed for an ugly death. Hughes' younger brother Geoffrey went to court over it, but while the judge convicted Pierre of murder, the testament was declared valid, and the count of Savoy confiscated the castle and the remainders of the family's wealth."

"Wow. And poor brother Geoffrey got nothing?"

"No, although he led an interesting life of his own. But the estate was lost to the Corbières family. Made me want to strangle Hughes, but unfortunately, ghosts are hard to kill."

While I found the image of a raging Sir Guillaume attacking the spectre of his unruly descendant hilarious, I felt sorry for the oldster at the same time. "I take it Hughes haunted the castle as well. Why is he gone?"

"He dissolved with a radiant smile the night he got his revenge on Pierre. Haven't seen him since. And don't ask me again why I'm still sticking around, I don't know and don't care as long as there is good company—and the redhead provides a whirlpool and lavender soap."

"I won't, as long as you forgo teaching new tricks to the ravens. If Louis has to close the hostel, your wellness area will be history. You may well end up haunting an abandoned ruin, no television, no visitors to spook, no entertainment."