Page 30 of Firethorne
“Ah. You found it,” a deep voice echoed from behind me.
I spun around to see Lysander strolling towards me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats as he meandered without care, like what I’d found was the most regular, unremarkable thing ever. He stopped a few feet away from me and his gaze shifted from my wide-eyed, horror-struck face to the rope dangling above us.
“What the hell is that?” I pointed to the noose but kept my eyes on him.
“That,” Lysander said, his lips in a thin line as he squinted up at the tree through the brightness of the morning sun that was blazing through the gaps in the branches. “Is one of Firethorne’s many, and more unusual heirlooms.”
I screwed my face up, giving him an incredulous look as I replied, “An heirloom? A fucking heirloom? Are you serious?It’s a bloody noose.” I was surprised he was talking about it so calmly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Lysander was sunshine, and this... was so far removed from sunshine. It was pitch black. “Why would you keep it up there? That’s fucked up.”
“Fucked up is our middle name.” His responding half grin and slight shrug of his shoulders only made me screw my face up harder. “Well, for some of us it is.”
Damien and his father.
“Please tell me no one used that.” I swallowed, waiting for him to respond.
He took a few steps closer to me, then folded his arms over his broad chest and stared wistfully at the noose.
“You know, when we were kids, we never really thought anything of it, hanging up there, swinging away. Damien once asked our father if he could make a swing out of it to play, but we weren’t allowed to touch it.”
“Why?” I asked, turning to face him.
“You know Damien. He always wants things. He was always the most demanding when we were kids.”
“No. I mean, why wouldn’t he take it down? Why were you allowed to see that? What sort of sick parent lets their kids play when something like that is up there above their heads?” I stabbed my finger in the air towards the offending ligature.
“The kind that wants to teach them a lesson,” Lysander replied without missing a beat. “To teach everyone a lesson.”
“Which is?” My eyes bugged as I recoiled, waiting... no... urging him to elaborate. Lysander always told me the truth, and this was one truth I wanted to hear.
Lysander watched the noose as he sighed.
“That rope has been up there for years. No one’s ever dared to take it down. My father said it was cursed, and anyone who touched it would bring downfall to the Firethorne name, whichis ironic, seeing as the noose was put there by someone who almost destroyed the Firethorne name.”
“Go on,” I urged.
“It’s left there as a reminder,” he said. “That no one fucks with the Firethornes and lives to tell the tale.”
“Now I really need to know more.”
Lysander’s eyes didn’t stray from that noose as he told his story.
“When my great grandfather left here to go to war, my great grandmother was left on her own to oversee the estate. She had to employ extra staff to help her manage the day-to-day running of the place. But a lot of the men in the town had gone away to war, too. Well, almost all of them.
“A local man, Jeremiah Cramner, came to work here. He wasn’t fit for military service, some medical issue, I don’t know what, but what I do know is he was fit enough to come here and start an affair with my great grandmother.” He paused momentarily to catch his breath, maybe gather his thoughts, and then he went on.
“They were together for some time. Eventually, they became blatant about it; they flaunted it. Everyone knew. There was talk in the town that she was going to leave my great grandfather and run away with Jeremiah. And then, one night, my great grandfather came home unexpectedly and caught them together.
“From what I heard, Cramner thought she’d leave right there and then. But when my great grandfather gave her a glimpse of what her alternate reality would be like, made her see what she was giving up by leaving him for a guy who had nothing, she ghosted him. Cramner, I mean.” Lysander put his arms out and shrugged. “The guy couldn’t handle it. He loved her. He was obsessed. Cramner lost everything when he lost her. He couldn’tcome back from that, so one night, he put that rope up there and hung himself.”
I took a step back, my gaze falling to the woodland floor to avoid looking at the rope.
“Why there?” I asked.
“Because he wanted to be where she was. He gave his life for her. And legend says, my great grandfather refused to have him cut down until my great grandmother and most of the workers had seen him. I’ve heard he even invited townsfolk to the estate, so they’d see him too. He was a warning. You don’t fuck with the Firethornes. And so, when it got too much to have his decomposing body hanging up there, he was taken down and buried in an unmarked grave. But my great grandfather insisted the noose stayed where it was. He wanted everyone to know, even his wife.”
“What? That he had no humanity?”
“That he took no prisoners. That there were consequences to actions when you messed with him.”
