Castle In The Clouds, Chapters Forty One and Forty Two (standard:drama, 3066 words) [20/21] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Dec 15 2010	Views/Reads: 2180/1585	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Penultimate chapters of my drama set off of the north east coast of England

Chapter Forty One 

Hambleton's head ached; he'd come to on the bed where the landlord had
managed to lay him, and then as his memory slowly, tortuously pieced 
together events of the past few hours, he'd dragged himself up, waving 
aside the landlord's protestations and hurried across the square where 
he'd encountered a distraught Robertson. 

'I fear something dreadful has happened, Reverend.' Hambleton paused,
took in Robertson's ashen appearance. 'I can see that it has – what is 
it, man?' 

Robertson buried his face in his hands for an instant, shook it
forlornly. 'Never since the Saxons pillaged could this island have 
encountered such violence...' 

'Never mind that man – Miss Day – there was a madman in pursuit of
her...' 

'That madman is no more.' Robertson turned sideways, pointed along the
street indicating Dawson's body, 'But there is more than one madman 
here.' 

Hambleton realised at once. 'Llewellyn – what has he done to her? 

The Reverend raised his head to the leaden sky, sighed. 'She went with
him willingly – Llewellyn had a sabre, used it on Gibbings.' 

'You say – willingly?' 

Robertson nodded. 'I believe to protect Gibbings. Gibbings received a
nasty gash to his chest. He was resting in the vicarage but while my 
back was turned I fear he took off in pursuit.' 

'Then I must hasten.' 

'There are policemen in attendance. You should leave it to them.' 

'No, I cannot. I feel a part of this unfortunate affair.' Hambleton
turned away, bowed his head into the wind and proceeded towards the 
castle. *                                   * 

Llewellyn had been bound to a chair. Robbed of his weapon he looked a
withered sight, staring ahead with unfocused eyes; the dark suit he'd 
worn since leaving the city, askew and ragged from his encounters. 
Rothman could scarcely remove his eyes from Veronica, lying on the 
chaise-longue, her lovely face turned upwards towards the ceiling, her 
splendid green eyes closed, while her red hair cascaded over the side 
of the couch. When he managed to raise his head he became aware of 
Taylor's scrutiny. 'You have questions to answer, Mr. Rothman, now is 
as good a time as any.' 

Rothman released an impatient sigh. 'If you are referring to the rogue
on the main street I have little to say; the beautiful lady here was in 
extreme jeopardy from his thuggish hands when I struck him with the 
car. It was not my intention that he should die, I acted solely in Miss 
Veronica's interests.' 

'Nevertheless it remains an act of violence, even were what you say to
be true, it cannot be overlooked.' Taylor chewed his lip, turned, 
crossed to the window and looked down on the woman's body on the beach. 
'You say you found her washed to shore...' 

'She is my accursed sister.' For a moment Llewellyn's lips sprung to
life, his eyes lost their glazed appearance. 'This man played no part 
in that – she slipped, her wretched body lay lifeless at the foot of 
the slope. It was I who cast her into the sea.' 

'You speak of a most dangerous man, forgive me for my unannounced
arrival but I felt the need to return to my former abode.' Hambleton 
sighed, looked at Llewellyn before gazing into Taylor's eyes, feeling 
him studying the crusted blood on his temple. 'Yes, Sergeant Taylor, I 
believe this is the work of the evil man Mr. Llewellyn employed to 
replace me when I tendered my resignation. I overheard your remark, 
Sergeant, but I have very little doubt that Mr. Rothman acted in a most 


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