The Descendant of Locksley

Part 1

London 1839:

To My Eyes, Ears, and Lips:

Thank you for remaining in contact for so many years. I know it has been a challenge and a severe risk on your behalf, but know that it is much appreciated. Since the beginning you have been beside me and done everything I ever asked for. I wish I could in person, repay you and thank you, however, I fear that day will never come. You have watched over my godchild without question, and certainly treated him better than his own father. As agreed you will take no part in exposing the vast amounts of skeletons behind Master Knights closet. I only hope that in the end what I have strived to accomplish will be accomplished.

Though my ever-growing passion to destroy Malcolm has never left my mind, I fear that my age has personally weakened my chances. I, much like you, have become too old to complete my task of vengeance. I never intended to use the boy at such an age, but we are left with no other option. I have stretched my hands across the country in hopes to find a better suit for such a vendetta, and have returned without any luck.

However, there is a Hawk that may help. I have set a course into action and request only one last favor. Send the boy to me. Though we originally agreed he would not meet me until his twenty-first birthday, I feel in my bones that my existence has been exposed. It is only a matter of time, and I cannot leave this earth without one last attempt to bring down the very power that burned me to hell.

There is much I would like you to know, and much more I wish to say, but I cannot risk this being read by any other eyes. Know this: When you stand before a grave you never wish to see, know it is a lie, the grave you will next mourn over is a fake. My Hawk will take care of the plan from there on. By then only one descendant will remain. If for whatever reason you find his course unsafe, I fear talking him out of the plan will be impossible, only stress that he must remain dead.

By the time you have read this, there will be precious time to spare, so waste not another moment and send the boy to me. You have been the only person I could trust for nearly twenty years. Please do not let me down when my ashes are soon to be swept away by an unfortunate wind.

Søren

1

Late morning sun poured in through the frantically drawn curtains. The sounds of carriages and people walking to the park were suspended in air bringing life into the exhausted body, which lay. It was a peculiar spring day with fresh green grass and blooming flowers. The aroma of a warm breakfast hovered slightly from the kitchen below.

"Up!" nagged a voice from where the curtains had been drawn. "Master Gabriel it is nearly noon now, up!" the stern voice came from the oldest housemaid in the Knight family: Hilda Dobson. She was a thin wrinkled woman; with white hair tied tightly back into a bun. She had raised the boy since his mother had passed away. Not once had she stopped to care for herself, her dedication to Malcolm Knight, the father, was never doubted. She had been a poor beggar-woman until Mr. Knight had taken her in to serve as the family housemaid. She reached across pulling the sheets off of the boy. A stench wafted up to her nostrils causing her to pinch them and walk towards the door. "Even at the age of eighteen you must be reminded to bathe Master Gabriel. For the sake of Miss Lillie Clarke and her father, please clean yourself up and meet your father downstairs, they should be arriving within the hour."

Arching his back, Gabriel rose from his pillow. Shaking his head violently he scattered the dreams that clouded his mind. He ran a hand through his blonde hair as he walked across the room. Instinctively, he dropped to the floor and began exercising vigorously, lifting himself up from the floor and back down. When his arms finally ached he walked into the marble bathroom across the hall. As he entered a small squeak caused him to stop. It had come from Annabelle Patton, one of the housekeepers' daughters. She was a year younger than he and lived in a small cottage behind the gardens. She had bright emerald eyes and dark brown hair, which she tied back in a matching green ribbon. She was slender and modest in an angelic way. The girl had been filling the bath with hot water.