Saurimonde II

By Amaris St. Hilaire

After becoming suddenly human again, the tragically lovely Saurimonde, and her handsome consort, Sordel, realize their overwhelming attraction for each other despite the unnatural way in which they met. All goes well until Saurimonde discovers the terrible truth about Sordel's birth, which causes him to fall prey to his now demonized aunt, the wise-woman Elazki, as circumstances conspire to make Saurimonde believe Sordel has left her for another woman.

With the aid of a not so innocent priest the wise woman spends her nights converting the young women of the village for their own nefarious plans. Will Saurimonde be able to overcome the demons and find Sordel in time to save him from a malefic fate? Or will she succumb to the answering of an ancient rite, a Beltane bacchanal, which promises to leave none of them alive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amaris St. Hilaire
• Release date: Oct 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310155574

Amaris St. Hilaire

Scarlett Amaris likes playing devil's advocate on the dark side of the moon. She spends a large amount of time tracking through ancient ruins and decoding old texts in the Pyrenees. Her more esoteric work can be found at www.shadowtheatre13.com and www.terraumbra13.blogspot.com. She's also co-written scripts for the anthology film The Theatre Bizarre, the documentary The Otherworld and the upcoming feature films, H.P. Lovecraft's The Colour Out of Space, Replace, and Black Gate. Saurimonde is her first novel and she's currently finishing up Hidden Montsegur before getting started on Demon Priest, her next erotic endeavor along with the next Saurimonde story. To read more, visit her blog: scarlett-amaris.blogspot.com.Melissa St. Hilaire likes to bask in the center of chaos watching supernova explosions. She spends most of her time daydreaming, researching, and scribbling. She wrote film and music reviews for The Heights Inc. Her poetry has appeared in the periodicals Shards, The Outer Fringe, and The Laughing Medusa. She co-authored several scripts for Tone-East Productions. Her debut book, a memoir titled In The Now, was released in 2012. Her current projects include a sequel to Saurimonde, a follow-up to In the Now called Medicated, a fantasy series called Kaleidoscope Moon, and a sci-fi epic called Exodus. To read more, visit her website www.melissa2u.com.

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SAURIMONDE II

By

SCARLETT AMARIS

&

MELISSA ST. HILAIRE

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Scarlett Amaris & Melissa St. Hilaire

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Ruined Tower (Mediterranean Coast Scene with Tower)

Thomas Cole (1801-1848)

1832-1836

Oil on composition board, 26 3/4 H x 34 W

Albany Institute of History & Art Purchase, 1965.1

(Used with permission.)

DEDICATION

For those who still dream awake.

CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright

Cover Art

Dedication

Acknowledgments

1 If The Truth Be Told

2 Things Were Going To Be Very Different

3 Oh This Was Bad

4 Take Care Out There

5 I Thought I Was Going To Die

6 Do It For Amour

7 Stranger Days Were To Come

8 We Have Work To Do

9 It Wasn’t Safe For Her Here

10 First She Had To Find Him

11 The Night Had Been Endless

12 A Blackness Descended On Her

13 No Such Luck

14 Now This Was More Like It

15 I Weep For Your Beauty

16 I Don’t Believe You

17 One For Sorrow

18 But You Promised

19 I'm Not Your Dame

20 How Could You Fight A Shadow?

21 In The Darkened Forest

22 Can I Tell You Another Secret?

23 Have You Sinned?

24 The Crowning Of The May Queen

25 The Bringer Of Storms

26 How Bad Could It Hurt?

27 It Could Have Been The Shadows

28 What Was Magic Without Style?

29 Safety Is But An Illusion

30 Pretty Little Birds

About The Authors

Bibliography

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Scarlett: Special thanks to Melissa St. Hilaire for helping craft and conjure this tale. To Richard Stanley for giving the support, inspiration, and creativity needed. To Gertrud Meyer for providing friendship and solace. And to Una Woodruff for her knowledge and foresight.

Melissa: Special thanks to Scarlett Amaris for dreaming up Saurimonde and inviting me along for the mystical journey. To Jeremy Graham for all his support and encouragement. To Yvette Lera for helping me keep organized. To M. Caroline Swett for her friendship and for always believing in me. And to everyone who has read Saurimonde, enjoyed our dark tale, asked for a sequel, and offered insight and advice along the way.

1 IF THE TRUTH BE TOLD

Saurimonde placed the journal down as the words swam in front of her eyes, while she tried to wrap herself around the shock of what she had read. She already felt intrusive enough reading someone else's diary. She reached forward touching the hem of her damp powder blue dress hanging over the edge of the fire. There wasn't much left of it, only wisps of cotton and lace still tacked together. The dress wouldn't last through another wearing. Shivering, she wrapped a blanket tighter around herself against the bite of the morning air. She wasn't exactly cold, but the night's events had chilled her. She was sore from head to toe and her muscles protested every move she made. She was most definitely back in her body again, but she didn't feel quite whole. It was like dancing a waltz and always being a couple of beats behind the rhythm as memories and emotions collided awkwardly with each other. The light was starting to spill cold blue from the windows. The panes of glass were smudged with soot and threw shadows across the floor. She could almost discern a pattern. It looked like beetles crawling, coming ever closer. A tiny insect army ready to attack and take her down.

Elazki's cottage had a certain charm in daylight. Bundles of drying herbs hung from the ceiling mixed with talismans and other things she didn't want to look at too closely. A stuffed fox on top of a sort of shrine bristled from the center of the room. The fox was obviously well loved to have such a place of importance. She glanced at it a couple times out of the corner of her eye, half-convinced it was watching her. She could hardly believe she'd never been inside this place before, although she really had never given its owner, Elazki, the time of day, and now she owed her life to her. Now she knew more about the healer's life than she'd have ever thought possible. In her mind's eye she saw the raven-haired woman staring at her as ferociously as a blood moon. The events of last night seemed like a million years ago. She'd been trying to put the pieces together, but every time she got the sequence wrong. There were too many gaps in her memory.

Her husband Gilles and Elazki had been together many years ago and he'd used and abused her affections. But soon after there had been a child who was not named in the diary, but if she did the math then... Stop it, Saurimonde thought as she pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, trying in vain to organize her thoughts and quell the rising panic inside of her. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be! And how could she tell Sordel? She needed time to figure out whether it could be possible or not. She... She never finished that thought as the sound of a man clearing his throat from the shadowy recesses of the bedroom doorway startled her.

Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.

The timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. It was rough and smooth at the same time, like a fine piece of driftwood, inviting you to run your hand over its surface. Greenish gold jungle eyes stared out of the gloom and she could see the vague outlines of a very lithe, well muscled chest. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she didn't dare let her eyes drop any lower.

No... I... Her voice trailed off. How could she explain?

Did you get any sleep?

Had she slept? She wasn't sure. I think so, she answered.

Sordel moved across the room, stoked the fire with a few quick jabs and put the kettle on. He settled himself into the chair across from her. They stared at each other for a minute as she shifted the old blanket around her.

I don't know how I can ever thank you.

It's not necessary.

There was another uncomfortable pause, longer this time. His eyes flickered to the journal lying on the table. There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but wasn't certain he was ready to hear the answers. The water started to boil and Sordel got up moving the kettle to the counter. He added a handful of herbs, stirring them slowly as the smell of mint and Valerian filled the cottage. He sneaked a quick peek at Saurimonde. She was more fragile looking in the daylight. Her large dark eyes had a wounded quality and the bluish circles underneath them only added to the effect. The morning light turned her hair into molten gold as it tumbled riotously down her shoulders and back. She was still lovely, though. Maybe even more so than before. He stifled the urge to gather her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be all right. That would be a lie. Everything was definitely not going to be all right. Elazki...

Sordel dropped the metal stirrer with a clatter. Grumbling under his breath he pushed it out of the way and grabbed a couple of mugs.

As if reading his mind she asked, What are we going to do?

Dark waves of hair fell across his handsome face. Irritated, he pulled it back and tied it in a knot at the nape of his neck. He glanced at the steaming mugs remembering when he bought them for his aunt. He must have been about twelve and was so excited by the look of genuine surprise on her face.

I have to find her. No matter what it takes, he answered.

You don't know what you're up against. Her eyes widened and a world of confusion seemed to swim within them.

His heart broke to see it, but not his resolve. No. But that won't stop me. She's my aunt. My only family and the person nearest and dearest to me.

Saurimonde smiled at him sadly. You're a hero. It's commendable. But even a hero may not save the day in this situation.

He shook his head. I'm not a hero.

You are. At least to me, but we have to be rational here. If you go storming off to the river there's a chance you won't find her. And even if you do, there's no telling what she might do to you. She's not the woman you know any more.

That's bullshit. She would never hurt me.

Listen to me. She would and it wouldn't be her fault. I know better than anyone. You wouldn't believe the things I've done... She felt a tear slip down her cheek. She moved to brush it away and then stopped, her hand frozen in mid-air. She had promised herself she would never cry again. She wasn't the same victim as before and, if there was one thing the experience of being possessed had taught her, it was that she was going to have to be a whole lot tougher to survive it. Tensing her muscles and taking a deep breath, she wiped the tear away, pushing all her emotions down deep inside further than she could follow. It was the only way to keep her sanity.

There's nothing else to say. I have to save her.

She stared at him. Yes, I know. But to have any kind of chance to do so we're going to have to put the pieces together and that could take some time. She sighed. You can run to her rescue and there's nothing I would do to stop you. Nor would I blame you for doing so, but I wish you would listen to what I'm saying first.

He took a deep breath as her words settled over him. She might be right, but it went against his nature to do nothing. None of it made sense. He'd watched in slow motion as Elazki stabbed Saurimonde clean through with his sword. She should have been dead. And when she started breathing again, apparently unharmed, he'd forgotten everything else around him. Then he'd heard Elazki humming to herself a distance away. She had the strangest look on her face as she stared at him and then, crazily enough, she dove into the river. He'd scanned the water again and again, but she never surfaced. He should have dove in after her, but something inside of him warned him to get Saurimonde and himself out of there as quickly as possible. He wanted to protect her from the sight of her husband Gilles' mutilated body lying by the shore. There was no way he was miraculously coming back to life again. He felt a chill as he remembered Saurimonde's black eyes flashing as she demoniacally gorged the flesh from her husband's body. Sordel closed his eyes not wanting to remember more.

He rubbed his temples against the dull thud of a coming headache and said, There's a lot we have to talk about, but this isn't the time or the place.

She answered him in a gentle tone, I know. It's all too fresh. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

He handed her a steaming mug and she took it grateful for the momentary warmth it gave before setting it down on the small wooden table in front of her. She bit her lip trying to decide whether or not it was wise to tell him what she'd discovered. Sordel settled back into the chair and she did her best not to stare open-mouthed at his chest.

The steam from the tea chased away the last vestiges of sleep as he asked, What are you going to do?

Go back, she answered.

Go back where? He frowned, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

To the manor house.

Why? You can stay here with me.

The last thing she wanted to do was make him angry, but she had to be pragmatic, otherwise she would be doomed. She already may have been doomed for all she knew, but she would survive this.

I know, she said, but I have to make an appearance and make things look as normal as possible. Besides, sooner or later someone would know I was here and there would be more trouble. As it is I'm going to have to find a way to explain why Gilles and that girl are suddenly missing.

Her name was Mariel. She was your niece. Gilles said she ran off.

She... Her lip quivered, but she knew this was one of the things she must face. She's gone wherever Gilles has gone.

So she's dead. He gave a curt nod. And Elazki?

I think I know where she's gone, but it isn't somewhere we can go. At least not now.

Then she's not dead.

No, I would know if she were dead. But soon she'll wish she was. Saurimonde's voice faltered. There's something else I need to tell you about your aunt.

Sordel's stomach dropped. Intuitively he knew what she had to say was going to be ugly.

She took a sip of the hot tea. It scalded her mouth, but it gave her the courage to say what needed to be said. I read part of her diary after you gave it to me last night. I know you promised her never to read it, but... She paused, and then the words came in a rush. She had an affair with someone who treated her very badly a long time ago. There was a child.

Elazki never had a child.

It says in her diary she did. She had a son about twenty-four years ago.

Sordel felt the blood drain from his face. He was twenty-four-years-old and he had very little memory of his mother, Elazki's sister. She had died when he was two. Elazki had never said anything to him before about having a child.

Saurimonde continued on knowing if she stopped now, she'd never be able to tell him. It sounds like she had a very bad experience so she sent the child away and... She saw his features harden further. Gilles' name is mentioned.

The words hung in the air. There was no way to take them back now. The notion was too horrible to comprehend. Sordel's mind glitched, and then it hit him. Holy fuck, Gilles might have been his father. He clutched the table feeling faint for a moment, knocking over the tea. Saurimonde jumped out of the chair, backing away. He stared right through her as a rush of connections in his mind suddenly made a sort of sick sense. His stomach lurched.

Sordel...

He finally focused in on her, but his eyes were wild and a vein throbbed on his forehead. Without a word he turned and strode out the door, slamming it so hard the windows rattled.

Wait! I could be wrong... she called after him. But it was too late. He was gone.

Damn it all to hell! she shouted in exasperation, throwing down the blanket. The moldering fox in the middle of the room stared at her and she could have sworn she saw it smile. Suddenly feeling naked, she grabbed her damp dress and covered herself as best as possible. Could it really get any worse...?

2 THINGS WERE GOING TO BE VERY DIFFERENT

Saurimonde jerked the cloak back into place after it had slipped over one shoulder. Her dress was disintegrating before her eyes and Elazki's frock she had borrowed barely fell below her knees. Ahead of her was the garden full of hollyhocks and she could hear the thrum of the bees as the day began to warm. She skirted the edge as she didn't want to look too closely at what had once been her favorite spot on the property. This was something else she would have to sort out and there were so many messes and mistakes, she didn't know where to begin. She prayed no one would see her arriving back to the manor house. She must look like a beggar woman and prying eyes and wagging tongues were the last thing she needed right now.

There had been no way to cover her feet so she had to pick her path carefully. The going was slow, but the stables were within shouting distance. She knew this place so well. This had been her home. It still was her home, but it felt unfamiliar, like it was part of a life lived long ago.

She tiptoed quietly into the stables and listened carefully. All she heard was the restless shuffling of the horses waiting for their morning feed. Good, she thought, luck was with her. The stables were cool and damp and she could barely see in the tack room as she fumbled slightly, but she knew where Gilles' saddle and bridle were as they sat in perfect condition. He'd always insisted on the best and he'd always gotten his way. Well, almost always. She wasn't sorry she'd killed Gilles; as far as he was concerned she felt nothing at all, except the overwhelming need to erase all trace of his existence. She knew her reaction wasn't rational; it was a reaction to all the events which had befallen her. All because of Gilles and his need to destroy everything around him. At least he couldn't hurt anyone any more.

Still cursing about her lack of footwear, she saddled up Gilles' black gelding. The poor beast had been so beaten into submission; he barely moved a muscle as she tightened the girth. Hopefully his next owner would be kinder. She led him out the back, tied the reins in a loose knot and hooked them through one of the buckles in the front of the saddle so he couldn't get tangled in them. Then she let him go. He stood there unsure what to do so she grabbed the nearest whip and gave him a harsh whack across the hocks. It was all the motivation he needed as he took off for the trees. She felt bad about doing so, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If her luck continued then someone would find the horse sans rider in a few hours. Then there would be a search party to go look for their master, thinking he had fallen