The Minstrel Shelved Upon Himself a Sigh

The minstrel gazed upon a sleeping wood yearning for Celeste, his recent amour. Her husband was now long gone as was she and he could no longer reach her door. (She had no husband). Fairly innocent he was, a young soul, baby-faced and all. Never was the Minstrel found out to be the one she was with. They had been meeting at an apartment in the village. He had jumped out the window as surely as he could before ire dramatically slammed opened the bedroom door (by the occupant of the apartment, of whom she had stolen a key from, unbeknownst to him). Baby-faced Minstrel then ran in his under-dunders through the back streets of the town until he reached his own home. He didn't see Celeste for a while after that.

Gradually the Minstrel leapt into hindsight and remembered what Celeste had told him about her family once knowing noble families. (A bit of a liar she was, though her aunt was well situated socially she herself was the daughter of a laundress.) So he'd figured out where he, (still believing she had a husband somewhere) had hidden his lustful endeavor. She was never seen in the village again so the only place they could have hidden her was at the columned estate beyond the town.

There was only one main used roadway into the village and only one boat ramp and no one there had seen Celeste either. Very carefully he had inquired around because she was missing her "music lessons." Blushing wildly with fierce eyes he stammered at the fisherman, "what do you mean you never heard of her?!" If she lived in an estate then someone would know her. If anyone had heard of the scandalous surprise they didn't let on.

Regularly he would wander by the evening stream to reach the clearing of the trees to look for her. Until one evening, there she was, outside gathering the day's wash. He was shocked, not her! Now she was a servant? Just what goes on here! Gads, she must be heartbroken, the evil husband he had her hanging clothes to dry now! Well, that was just ridiculous.

Never more pleased was one when Celeste set eyes upon him again. Very fond of the Minstrel she was. They could not run away together though. The town was much too small and they would be seen and neither had any coin to get them very far, her husband had er, um, cut her off financially (she lied again). So they would bide their time and have a little fun. They had to be careful if they were to be discovered together or she would be sent further away this time.

So once a week he would clear the woods to toss a pebble at Celeste's window to get her attention so they could go meet. Off to the trees, they would scurry barely looking behind them. They did it in the leaves, they did it on the ground, they did it hanging from the trees, they did it without a sound. They did it round the bend, they did it at the river's end. They did it non-stop every chance they could.

However, on one particular evening as the Minstrel approached through the back of the estate he could smell smoke, clearly burning wood almost dissipated in the air around him. This concerned him. Some eve's she would meet him but not this one. Celeste wasn't there, she didn't answer, something was wrong. So he swayed a bit as if which way do I go? Then made his way back to his own door. He would find the Page the next day and send him to Celeste with his promise of next week, he decided along the way. On his way back to town he had to dodge chariots and foot races. There was quite an entourage heading somewhere.

As he arrived at his door he could hear a ruckus further down in the village. A gathering of some sort it sounded like so he didn't turn in that direction. An ominous feeling kept him away. He was worried however and couldn't resist sneaking back to the estate later that night.

The edge of the clearing had been razed. Stumps and black ash replaced greenery with great puddles everywhere. Townspeople had fled there with barrels of water. The estate still stood. But the window was now dark, not a light inside. His heart lurched. His loins ached more.

In the distance, the sound of hooves thumping and chariot wheels careening. He stopped for a moment and cocked his head. Ahh, he would find her, nothing could stop him.

If he'd bothered to notice, he would not have to travel far. There was little footprints in amongst several sets of larger prints. Still embedded in the damp ground.

What desires be for the burning of a tree? The one structure that feeds the very air we breathe. Be wary of a soul's cavorting. Once a ladder strikes the ground there may not be a way to turn around.

This is a humorous excerpt in the context of my novel that is being re-released. Hope you like it. Here is a clue to the novel's plot: Celeste is the past-life spirit of the antagonist in the story. The new psychic in the story, (main character (moi), is reading psychically about her nemesis every time she sits down to do a psychic reading, but doesn't know her. She keeps reading the character's past life intertwined with this one and believes they are two different people. But there is a cast of characters to add to the loot. A comedy of errors results at times. Lit fiction inspired by real life. 😉

By Lisa Lachapelle, Writer, Author. More of her work here and here.

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