Suzanne Robinson by The Legend Page B

window.
    Once Jacoba was in place opposite him, he dropped the screen, and together they waved the rods slowly, cobweb lawn rippling between them. The moment the screen dropped, Honor swayedand held out her arms. She heard Theodoric wailing into the cooking pot on the roof. She opened her mouth and put her hands near her face as if she were weeping, but she was careful not to touch the plaster on her cheeks.
    They had rehearsed this scene many times over the last few weeks, and the whole demesne was alive with talk of Rowena’s ghost. Four days earlier they’d played their haunting scene near Durance Guarde for the first time. She’d stood on a hillock with her companions behind her holding candles and in front of her waving the cloth. Galen had come down the path to the castle, stopped and stared at her. He’d looked as if someone had kicked him in the stomach, but she must not have remained on the hillock long enough, for he’d recovered himself and gone on as if nothing had happened. That’s when she had decided to haunt the castle itself.
    The moment she saw movement at the window in Berengar’s Tower, she would hear Theodoric’s wails grow louder. That was the signal. He would wait only two more wails before hurrying downstairs. She would back away from the window, then crouch and douse all the lights. Then they would throw everything into the sacks and run. If Galen de Marlowe didn’t leave after tonight, she would have to haunt another tower farther away, because the cursed man had chased them instead of cowering in fright like he was supposed to do. Last time they’d barely gotten out of the keep in time.
    Honor swept her arms up and swayed some more. She had to stop herself from grinning when she remembered the way de Marlowe had leaned out his window the first time he’d seen her inside the tower. She wished she’d been able to see him clearly, but of course it had been too dark for that. What a sight he must have been gawping at her in fear. Surely this would be the last time she’d have to perform this farce.
    She dearly wanted this ruse to succeed. She needed her new manor house, her new life. Without her plans and schemes for the improvement of life, like the printer’s press, she felt empty. But she could do something helpful, make up for her failure as a wife. She had so much to give, if only Galen de Marlowe would get out of her way and let her get on with it.
    Theodoric’s wailing suddenly rose, then ended on a shriek. Honor’s arms froze, and she peered across the emptiness of the night to Berengar’s Tower. De Marlowe wasn’t at his window, but something on the roof caught her eye, and she nearly cried out. A sickly greenish-white glow rose from the tower, and something horrible rose up from it. Honor heard Wilfred and Jacoba gasp as a giant black creature took form. It seemed to be wearing a cassocklike garment with a hood, but there was nothing inside that hood. No eyes, no mouth, no face at all.
    Suddenly the creature raised its arms, and long,skeletal limbs ending in bony hands appeared. It pointed straight at Honor and uttered an inhuman screech.
    “God’s mercy!” Honor took a step back and nearly fell off the bench. Wilfred and Jacoba dropped the cobweb lawn and grabbed her. They jumped to the floor.
    Theodoric clattered down the stairs, passed the door and cried, “Run, lady, run for your life!”
    Wilfred and Jacoba stood motionless and shaking.
    Honor shoved them toward the door. “Run!”
    They burst into a gallop, caught up with Theodoric, and scrambled through a passage that led to the keep stairs and hurtled down them to the hall. They ran across the hall, with Honor in front. She hauled the door open to find another black monster behind it. Honor screamed and drew back, bumping into Wilfred, who crossed himself and mumbled feverish prayers. Theodoric held up the cross he wore on a chain around his neck, his mouth working silently. Jacoba clung to Honor’s arm and