The Dessicant (Part 1)

I was told afterwards that it had been beautiful, once. The valley within which it nestled had sheltered it from the worst of the traditional weather of that region, and it hadn't been unusual to find the children playing in the dappled sunshine some few weeks later into the autumn than their counterparts in the more southern reaches of the county. It had been my intention to spend at least some of my time there writing, in the hope that I could find inspiration in a place away from the Chaos of my daily routine - I will not deny that my failure to find a distributor for my work had irked me. As it is, I publish this account in the greatest hope that it only saves others from the torment that I have endured.

Sunday, September 24th, 1846

It was through the remains of a late September afternoon that I first found myself traversing the steep road that led to the place. The people, being of a practical cast, had cut the track on a rough diagonal up the valley side, clearing the minimum of forest on the way - it was with some difficulty that my carriage, designed for the more forgiving terrain of the city, navigated it. More than once on the descent I heard from the trees what I imagined to be the laughing of children, and wryly I pictured the youngsters creeping down through the trees finding amusement in the toils of this showy outsider.
Gradually the road flattened and my comfort increased immeasurably - yet as we approached the first of the stout buildings the horses grew restive, and it was with a measure of skill that my driver was able to retain control. As he calmed his charges I noticed a man emerging from a large dwelling that I supposed to be an inn, approaching us at pace. I alighted and offered a polite greeting, but to my surprise he waved away my hand and addressed my driver instead. He spoke with a thick country accent that I found extremely difficult to understand.

"You can leave the carriage 'round back the house, but you'd do best bring yer horses int village. Needn't waste time mind."

With this he turned to leave and I found myself more than a little irritated by his lack of respect. I spoke loudly - "Pardon me sir - I was under the impression that I was expected."

He stopped almost midstride, one foot slightly raised. For a moment he seemed to me to be almost frozen and I stepped forward to provide assistance; but as I neared he snapped back into motion almost as a marionette would, his head twisted viciously round toward me and his lower limbs only catching up a moment later. His face was contorted horribly, in some semblance of a smile of the kind I had never witnessed before or since.
Alarmed, I stumbled back and collided with the horses, which were once again wild eyed and foaming. In a flash my host leapt forward and caught the sleeve of my coat, and hauled me clear.
"Easy now lad." His voice was soft and when I met his gaze it was once again the visage of a normal man. His hand on my shoulder rested a moment longer, then patted me gruffly and he was gone, disappearing back into what I now hoped was not to be my place of residence, leaving the door ajar.
My heart was pounding! My driver during this exchange had been busy unloading my bags, and a few words confirmed he had seen nothing out of the ordinary. The sun had set very suddenly, and despite my misgivings the warm light emitting from the house had become most inviting. Nevertheless it was with some trepidation that I crossed the loose cobbles and knocked timidly.