The rain fell more heavily now as Charles pushed his horse toward the shelter of the overhang of the rock face he could make out lit by the flashes of lightening. He had seldom been this deep in the forest but the storms rapid arrival caused him to be separated from the rest of his party. He dismounted as he drew closer to the rocks and led his horse beneath the overhanging rocks into a shallow cave. His neighbours had meant well talking him into a hunt to take his mind off his grief. Surely after a year of mourning his wife would permit him to re engage with his life.
He watched the lightening flash around him and scanned the bleak forest and the clearing in front of him. There was something oddly man-made about the area, perhaps a ruined building reclaimed by the thick forest. As his eyes adjusted to the light he began to make out the outline of the ruined walls of the building. Where he stood was indeed solid rock and the entrance to a cave that seemed to be far deeper than he first perceived it to be. He tethered his horse to a nearby bush and turned to look behind and noticed that smoother walls followed the roughness of the entrance. In between the lightening there was another light that did not seem like reflection but coming from deeper within the cave itself. Charles moved cautiously towards the angular corner of the rock face, finding himself in a passageway with a light that emanated from deeper within. He moved deeper down the corridor and as the light began to reveal the hidden aspects beneath flickering shadows he caught sight of symbols on the walls. He paused to feel the carved outlines in the rock. Celtic symbols perhaps maybe even runes he mused?
He turned to walk toward the bright opening, his eyes adjusting first to the darkness and the flickering shadows and then suddenly to a constellation of lights. Dozens of thick long stemmed candles surrounding a stone at the centre raised up like a sacrificial alter. His mouth fell open as he took in the fullness of the scene. Nestled on top of the stone on a thick layer of crimson velvet with white satin was the body of a young woman. Memories of his wife as she lay in her coffin returned to him overwhelming his curiosity he froze with shock as he felt the tears well up inside hem again. He stared at her naked body through his tears. It was several minutes before he could bring himself to move once more and he wiped his eyes and shuffled closer to her until he could see her in the full light of the surrounding candles.
He found himself lost in her outline, drinking in her smooth milk white skin, her sensuous youthful curves, and her long honey blonde hair. He felt himself being drawn closer to her to drink in her visage. Her body had the firmness of post pubescence at the beginning of womanhood. Charles sighed at the angelic roundness of her gentle face, the slenderness of her neck and the pert loveliness of her breasts. It was only then that he noticed her rib cage rising and falling very slowly. She was alive. Instinctively he pulled off his coat and threw it over her to keep her warm and then moved his head down to her face to hear her breathing. He felt the scent of her breath against his cheek and then began to pat her cheeks gently. Was she simply asleep, drugged-part of some pagan Wicca ritual? She moaned gently and her eyes opened warm and blue like a Nordic goddess flickering in the candlelight.
"Thank God you are you are alright Miss?" He stammered.
She breathed in deeply and a smile formed on her lips that lit the room with its own brilliance. She grasped her throat and shook her head whispering.
"Where am I?"
She was in shock and began to look around drawing the thick coat to her front as she sat up. All around her body were flakes of silvery white filmy substance that seemed to disintegrate as her body warmed in the coat and the candlelight. She reached out and put her arms around his neck and pulled close to him burying her head in his shoulder. He stroked her silken hair and patted her shoulder as she nestled into him silently. Charles was lost in the warmth of the embrace consumed by the simple human contact he had missed for so long.
The rain began to abate outside, the candles dripped slowly around them and they held for an eternity before Charles could bring himself to any rational action. He glanced around the chamber as he held her and made out the outline of what appeared to be a chest with a woman's velvet cloak and silk underclothes and small locked book. Reluctantly he loosened his grip on her and she looked up at him. He directed her gaze towards the chest.
" Are you strong enough to dress Miss?" She nodded weakly.
"Yes I think so."
He helped her to her feet as she clutched his damp overcoat. She was a petite faerie like creature by comparison to his tall stature. When he had helped her to the chest he turned politely so she could dress yet felt the burning desire to watch her. Instead he watched the shadows of her dressing, combining the images of her naked beauty in his mind with the shadows pulling on her clothing. It was then that he noticed he was aroused and was conscious he had been since the first moment he spied her. He tried to take his mind off the swelling in his trousers and scanned the room to try to make sense of how or why the young woman was there. His eyes were caught by what appeared to be a book, with gold leaf lettering and a locked spine. When she had finished dressing she moved towards him smiling shyly, he placed his hand around her waist and led her down the corridor towards where he had tethered his horse. The rain had stopped and the brief dwindling sun on the horizon heralded twilight. He helped her onto his horse side-saddle, then began to mount himself.
"Wait here for a moment" She smiled with the vague mystical dreamy look she moved in and out of as if her consciousness was shifting between trying to make sense of her situation or acquiescing to the dream of that moment. Charles returned to the chamber and picked up the locked book and ran his fingers along the spine feeling gold runic shapes beneath his touch on the leather cover and the gold leaf along the tightly packed pages. He looked around briefly at it in the light. The book was sealed shut the pages stuck together by some ancient adhesive or perhaps alchemy. He returned to the dreamy stranger and put the book in his saddlebag and climbed up onto his steed and felt her once more nestle into him as he rode homewards.
William awoke with a start and looked around him in the dim morning haze. He had had that dream many times before. It usually came to him when he slept in the old country house. Even as a child he remembered every detail of it. As a teen he had felt the full force of the moments of arousal and the vision of the young woman. He had even awoken sticky from his excitement. It was a recurring wet dream. He knew the woman. Her images were emblazoned on several walls around the house and even in the families city apartment. Portraits of a seductive young woman in silk, satin and lace. It had been she and the ancestor that bore the same Christian name as he that began the women's clothing empire that William stood to inherit.
Many times as a child William had tried to find the cave in the dream. Several times he felt he was close to it but the wood had been thinned and changed so much it was hard for him to recognise the place from the dream. He had driven down from London to escape the rat race, the responsibility of his position in the women's fashion Industry. His cell phone rang. He looked at the number and recognised it as a work number and answered reluctantly.
"Ah Mr Honeyton?" a sweet French accented woman's voice spoke apologetically.
