Hortensia de los Santos

THE DROP OF BLOOD

© 7/13/2014

Carl started to climb the narrow steps leading to the top of the Old Town Hall Tower with the astronomical clock. Higher and higher he went, and still no caretaker. He climbed past the apostles, past the machinery, higher and higher up. They hadn’t come here, he and Maggie, so he investigated. The stairs continued, and so did he until they ended in front of a partially opened door. Carl peered in.

He saw a much bigger room than the tower’s size allowed, splendidly decorated with draperies in light blue and gold. In the middle was a luxurious bed where a young woman sat. She wore nothing, and Carl blushed at the sight. Her black hair hung loose over her back, wavy as an ebony rivulet. From her white long neck hung a golden chain of intricate craftsmanship with a carved green stone, as big as a pigeon’s egg. Smaller stones hung from her earlobes and on a bracelet gracing her thin wrist.

Carl watched her admiringly, forgetting everything else. Suddenly, he heard sounds at the bottom of the stairs and fearing discovery searched for a place to hide. The stair landing offered none, so he decided to hide in the room. He opened the door to creep in and it squeaked; he stood transfixed, expecting the woman to look at him. He blushed anew, thinking she would ask what he was doing in her room, but the woman didn’t move. Reassured, Carl found a place to hide behind the loose draperies and stood very still.

Carl had forgotten about the noise that had forced him into the room. He came back to his senses when he heard a high-pitched scream, which he, after a fright, recognized as a horse’s whinny. The door opened abruptly, and he saw a stallion entering the room. The animal was immensely tall, and black, as black as ebony, its muscles rippling under the skin, the long mane braided. The eyes were big, liquid and of a dark brown, and they stared at Carl with piercing look.

The child trembled with fear and awe; the animal had seen him! He wondered how the animal had climbed to this room, it was impossible, they couldn’t climb those stairs. The horse approached the woman and nuzzled her.

“You are here!” She said.

She had finished dressing while Carl stared at the magnificent animal, and now her emeralds shone bright over her white blouse and skin. Her long black hair was held in a golden net. Taking hold of the animal’s mane, she swiftly mounted on its back and sat, proud as a queen.

“Lady!” Cried Carl, seeing they were leaving. “Lady, who are you?”

But the lady, who he named the Emerald Princess, didn’t hear. The horse shook his head and buffed. The woman and the horse went through the bedroom door, and down the stairs. Carl followed, but when he reached the street, they had disappeared. The child wondered about what he had seen for a long time. He pestered his teacher, asking about the tower’s legends, stories she could tell him. At first the teacher celebrated his interest in history, but after Carl’s many questions, stopped answering him. She had told him all she knew, she explained; she had nothing more to tell him.

Carl wanted to return to the tower, to see the woman again. He wanted to touch the horse’s sleek skin, marvel at its blackness, but hesitated. He knew the tower was far from his home and wondered how he had gotten to the distant place that day, that magical day of mystery and visions.

Finally, one day classes had been canceled and Maggie was busy with grandfather’s birthday preparations, he stole away. He didn’t know whether he would be lucky again and the caretaker would be absent. He hoped the lady would be in the room, and the horse would come. He ran to the plaza; it was crowded because it was almost eleven o’clock. He waited, but not for the show, never for it. He waited for the people to leave and the plaza to empty and approached the tower door. It was unlocked and Carl pushed it open, sticking his head in.

“Hello!” He cried, as he had that first time and just as then, only the echo answered. He entered, carefully closing the door behind and called again, but received no answer. He went up the stairs as before, and reached the room at the top, peering inside. Again, he saw the naked woman sitting on her bed. He heard the horse, climbing the stairs, and waited. The sound seemed stronger now, perhaps because he was aware of it. Carl went into the room and waited. He didn’t hide, he knew he had no need to.

Finally, the horse came in, this time followed by a smaller horse. The first horse nuzzled the woman’s neck, and soon she was atop it. The smaller horse though, had stepped in front of Carl, looking into his eyes as if it were trying to say something. Its mane was dressed in little braids, all intertwined with golden thread and ending in a tiny bell that rang every time the animal shook its head.

Carl stared, not understanding what was wanted of him. The bigger horse seemed to be getting anxious, pacing.

“Mount me!” Carl heard, as a whisper in his mind. “Come on, mount me! It’s late!”

The child gasped, shaking with fear.

“You will be all right!” Repeated the voice, and the gentle animal knelt, making it easier for Carl to climb to the rump. Once mounted, the horses started down the stairs. Carl was terrified, feeling they were going to cartwheel down, but nothing happened. They reached the door and as they emerged into the plaza they were suddenly walking over fields, and the city was far behind. The great horse walked at a leisurely pace, while the one Carl rode pranced and played and many times the child held tightly to the mane, fearing he was going to fall.

“Stop it!” He finally cried, holding the animal’s neck and shouting in its ear.

“My name is Nora, by the way.” Said the animal, like a whisper in Carl’s mind.

“You talk?”

“Only in your mind.” Said the mare.

“Where are we going? Where are you taking me?” Said Carl, in a loud voice. He couldn’t bring himself to mind talk to an animal.

“Where you are needed. You will see.”

And even though Carl asked and asked, the horse did not speak again. They had been trotting down the prairie and were reaching a forest of ancient trees with trunks so thick three men holding hands could not surround them. The branches were heavy, and low, with blue-green foliage; mushrooms grew at the foot of some trees, and moss over the stones and dead branches. Deeper and deeper into the woods they went, darker and darker it got and colder, too. Carl felt a shiver ran down his spine but couldn’t decide whether it was for cold, or fear for the strangeness of all.

Before them, wisps of what could be mist, or rain, formed a quivering curtain. Through it, Carl saw the end of the woods and a great white castle in the distance. They passed the curtain and Carl experienced a frisson of cold as they did. The castle was farther away and on a hilltop; its long pennants waving on the tower tops, green shale roofs dazzling in the sun. The horses galloped toward the castle, Carl holding tightly to his mare’s neck. They crossed the moat’s bridge and went through huge doors. Soldiers guarded the castle’s entrance, and Carl thought they would stop them, but they didn’t.

The two animals stepped on the hallway’s marble floor and were instantly transformed. Carl fell to the floor, not understanding what was happening. His eyes found a pair of black feet, and amazed, followed them up. Before him stood a stunning black maiden, her skin as dark as the horse he had been riding. Carl suspected it was the mare, Nora, incredible as it could seem. Her hair was braided just as the horse’s had been, with small golden bells at the end.