"I always thought you were lying Lady Gertrude but it seems that those stories about the Wild Hunt are true," interjected Kaoma thoughtfully. "Except you may have gotten some of the facts wrong."
At first when she saw a black war horse descend from the heavens.
After a streak of lightning flashed across the storm darkened skies.
She thought her eyes deceived her.
To her surprise, Kaoma leaned even closer to stare further out the window.
In time to see the devil possessed horse toss its rider off its back.
Even though the Wild Hunt had lost its leader it never slowed.
Just continued to follow the maddened horse with the glowing red eyes as it galloped across the land.
Only those gifted with the sight could see them.
Kaoma would have been scared had she not known that her elders were knowledgeable of things not of this world.
Iron horseshoes and crosses could be found everywhere.
While salt was sprinkled in any visible cracks and crevices.
For added protection the necks of white lambs slain.
So that its blood could cover every window and door.
To prevent the spirits that rode with the wild hunt from getting into the crumbling castle.
"Impertinent chit. You expect me to ignore that Hilda," hissed the old crone Gertrude with mouth water flying while she spat on the floor.
Turning to face the source of her irritability Gertrude yelled in her direction, "I don't know why the master doted on you but one day you Kaoma Swift will go too far."
Lady Hilda, the nicer of the two old women just shook her head and said, softly, "hush now Gertie."
Gertrude was definitely the more crabby of the two.
There was nothing she enjoyed more than harping on the shortcomings of others.
Lady Hilda put her hand on Gertrude's shoulder gently as if speaking to a recalcitrant child, "remember what it was like when we were young once."
Kaoma's eighteenth birthday loomed around the corner, a signal of changes to come.
It made everyone at the castle tense at what the master would do next.
Now that Kaoma was old enough to be emancipated and no longer his ward.
Kaoma was just nine years old when she came to Castle Hellshire.
A small, spritely kid with soft blonde hair.
Her amber eyes were robust with life.
Always full of energy and repeatedly getting herself into mischief.
A far cry from the glum, reserved young woman.
Who hardly spoke nowadays and kept her attention focused outside the window.
Kaoma's mother had remained unmarried, refusing to name her birth father.
Nothing changed until her mother Helen met and fell in love with Sarika's father Huntley Swift.
It was love at first sight and Huntley Swift treated Kaoma like she was his own child, and she doted upon him in return.
Huntley granted Kaoma his last name and entrusted a vast dowry for when she became of age to marry at eighteen.
Kaoma was closer to eleven years old when her mother became pregnant with her second child
When Helen finally recovered from giving birth to Sarika, the happily married couple left to attend a neighbor's ball at a nearby castle one midsummer evening.
Her parents never returned home that night.
Both were involved in a horrible carriage accident that left no survivors.
Her parents died a year after Sarika was born right before they could celebrate Kaoma's twelfth birthday.
Huntley was an only child so his ailing Uncle took in his children.
Lord Horace maintained control of Huntley's estate and affairs until the day he had to hand it all over to Kaoma.
Hilda's rheumy eyes glazed over for a while.
She appeared lost in thought until she finally broke the silence.
"Kaoma dear, we raised you to be a respectable young lady."
Gertrude harrumphed in agreement, "that's right."
Unfazed by Gertie's interruption Hilda continued, "You must remember to follow the rules, it will help to sustain you when we are no more. Have a care young miss it is not good to be so carefree and spirited as you are."
The young miss in question ignored her elders and stifled yet another laugh behind her elegantly painted fan.
She had been staring out the window for some time now, captivated by what she saw.
Could no one else see the young man who was the source of her new found humor?
He was standing out there in the open.
Unlike her, he looked disgruntled and out of place standing in what qualified as the farest thing from a garden.
The winter season was upon them and the land appeared desolate and arid with jutted rocks, wild bramble and wilted pine trees.
Adding to the dreariness of the desolate surroundings was a thick dense fog that seemed to be creeping its way towards the castle.
He was dressed in full black with a matching black scarf, made from the finest silk.
Still the sight of the young man seemed familiar to her but mentally even though she vigorously searched her memory she could not place him.
Kaoma tried to pay attention to her guardians but she was only hearing not listening, her eyes kept returning to the young man.
Now he was gingerly, rubbing his backside after letting out a string of obscenities.
He had fallen off a war horse, a monstrous looking, ugly black destrier.
That never stopped to look back after it unseated its master but kept galloping for its life.
Before the man could even start to recover, she saw her Uncle's guards bear down upon the intruder.
Kaoma gasped and the elderly women got up from their seats to see what held the attention of their charge.
Soon all the women were immersed in a cat and mouse chase.
As the young man tried to outrun the guards that were hot on his trail to no avail.
Suddenly the young man was surrounded by her Uncle's guards.
She only knew her Uncle Horace had returned to the castle because her Uncle's right hand man and captain of the guards, Horrid Herbert, was leading the charge.
Captain Herbert gave her the creeps.
A tall nightmarish figure with a sallow and grotesque face.
That face filled Kaoma with terror whenever they managed to make eye contact and he leered at her.
Now his attention was affixed on the stranger, a cruel and twisted grin on his face as he ordered his men to subdue the intruder.
Kaoma whimpered, her heart filled with a strange sense of fear and anguish for what was in store for the handsome young man.