The Treasure *Phantom of the Opera* (sequel to The Quest)

IX

Interlude in the Rain

Chapter IX

Let us go early to the vineyards
to see if the vines have budded,
if their blossoms have opened,
and if the pomegranates are in bloom—
there I will give you my love.
Song of Solomon 7:12

There is always music amongst the trees in the
garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear
it.

- M. Aumonier

xXx

.

On the eve of the new moon, Erik sought out Christine and found her sitting cross-legged on the ground, helping a few of the children bind coils of twine around newly made bows. He frowned at the pitiful weapons, but supposed them better than nothing.

He had observed the gypsy rats closely during their initial lessons, allowing them to fight each other in slow hand-to-hand combat with short wooden sticks the first two nights, quickly discerning who was more adept at swinging a dagger and who had the eye and hand coordination to use a bow and arrow or a slingshot; which boy or girl was more steady and solid in their actions, and which of them possessed the innate knowledge not only to wield the crude weaponry but also to foresee their opponents' next move. To his surprise, a number of children exhibited the skills of a warrior, and he assumed their fathers must have taught them such abilities to survive. The Drabarni had mentioned they endured the Don's treachery for three seasons.

"Su Majested," Boldo cried rushing up behind him. Erik turned in his tracks to face the sprightly boy, who at once looked more cowed but stood his ground. "I have fashioned the arrows as you instructed and have a full quiver."

"Excellent. You know what to do while I'm away?"

The boy nodded. "I'm to help the other five you selected to practice shooting arrows and am to watch over their lessons."

"It is an important task I leave you with." Erik afforded the boy a serious glance. "The lessons must continue as before, you must not be lax with them. Both you and Fordel will assume command during my absence. He will help those chosen to fight with the dagger, and both of you must see to it that the smallest children do not get in the way of being hurt."

The boy gave a quick nod of compliance. "I will do as you have said."

"See that you do." In their nocturnal lessons, once the gypsies traded wooden daggers for steel ones, a few of the less skilled children had suffered cuts on their hands or arms, but nothing serious enough to warrant more than a paste of herbs the Drabarni prepared and a clean wrapping. Christine also had helped to tend the injured, had helped in whatever capacity she was needed at the time, and never with a murmur of complaint.

Erik again faced her, grateful for his bride, wishing to do more for her. Still he marveled that a woman as exquisite as his Angel had happily pledged her troth to him, had given all of herself to the pathetic excuse for the being into which he'd been created. Through her gentle eyes she saw him as an Angel, and a man she desired. But a lifetime of contradiction persuaded him that he bore the face of a devil, existing as a monster to be feared.

As though sensing his gaze, she looked up from knotting a strip of twine around a bow. The luminous sparkles had faded with the dawn that followed her curious encounter in the forest two nights before, though at times Erik discerned a sprinkling of glimmers upon her skin, further enhancing her splendor. As he did now. He held out his hand to her, and she rose from the ground, smiling. She walked to him and took his outstretched hand.

"Are you ready for your next lesson?" he asked, his voice low, excluding the others.

She nodded, an eager light in her beautiful dark eyes.