2025-07-15, 07:46 PM
Trevor was not sure that he could go through with what had to be done, but as he looked back at the figure coming through the door behind him he knew that somehow or other he had to do it, if not for his sake then for Pip’s. He had brought Pip into this and he had to get both of them out of it. Anyway, if they did not face up to things what chance did they have of making any sort of life together?
As the door closed the last rays of the setting sun caught upon Pip’s shoulder-length blond hair, causing it to glow like fire, reminding Trevor of their first meeting—that first moment of attraction, before they realised the immensity of what they were becoming involved in. How could they have known? How could they have understood? Neither of them had even known of the other’s existence until that day, some six months earlier, and by time they knew the truth about each other it was far too late; they were helplessly in love with each other.
It was, no doubt, the curse of Carr Dulm. Trevor tried to remember what his father had told him about it: each generation of the family was cursed with a love they could never have, a love that would destroy those involved. And it came close to destroying Pip and himself—siblings with the same father but different mothers.
They first became acquainted at the Intercontinental Hotel, both having flown in to hear the reading of their father’s will. In accordance with his instructions neither was told of his death until he had been well and truly disposed of; his body cremated and the ashes scattered at sea. That left only the will to be read, which the family lawyers were to do the Friday two weeks following the funeral, allowing everyone involved time to arrive for the reading. So it was that Pip and Trevor arrived at the Hotel on the Thursday night. They met in the bar.
All right, they were siblings but it was not as if they had known each other—or even about each other, really. Trevor did know that his father had carried on relationships with a number of women outside his marriage. He was even aware, from what his mother had told him, that at least one child had come from those relationships. That he might meet that child, however, had never occurred to him, nor did it cross his mind as he chatted to Pip at the bar or later over the dinner they had together. By the time they made their way by unspoken consent to Pip’s room, where Trevor had spent the night, it was already too late to raise such thoughts; they knew that they were in love and that they wanted to be together. It was only in the early hours of the morning, after sessions of love making, that they realised the truth, when they talked about what had brought them to Manchester.
Pip—understandably—had been upset at what they had done. Trevor had tried to comfort his sibling, saying that, as they did not know of their relationship, they could not be held to blame. He knew the argument was weak… it was not what they had done that was the problem, it was what they wanted to do. The desire was manifest in both of them and they both sensed there would be no denying it.
Pip asked Trevor to leave, which he did. In the morning each avoided the other, both taking breakfast in their rooms via room service.
At ten thirty of the clock, however, they met again—in the offices of Moraine, Shankline and Websters, Solicitors. When they saw each other they both knew that, no matter what, they wanted one another.
“What shall we do?” asked Pip.
“Find a way,” Trevor answered, trying to find a confidence that he did not have.
The bulk of the estate was within an entailed trust which went to Trevor, along with a useless title and a lump of obligations. There was a hunk of money that was outside the trust, and their father had split this equally between the two of them, together with such properties as were outside the trust. Then there was Carr Dulm, an ancient stone tower on its own desolate island, whipped by Atlantic winds; this their father had left to them jointly, to hold together, as if he had known. Maybe he had. Trevor cursed the old man, but thanked him as well for putting Pip on this earth for him.
All that was six months ago. Now they had come to Carr Dulm, a place of dread and fascination; the place that was at the centre of the curse upon the family.
Standing in the hallway of Carr Dulm brought back to Trevor all the stories he had heard about this place. The reading of six months earlier was no longer a dry academic exercise but something that came alive in this place.
Pip came and stood next to him, taking his hand. “You sure you want to go through with this?”
“No, but I don’t want it messing us up, either.” Trevor looked at Pip. “There is no reason for you to stay though… you can go.”
“Like hell lover boy! If you think that I am letting you out of my sight with a demon around you have another think coming.”
They stood looking into each other’s eyes; smiling, knowing.
Then Pip reached up, pulled Trevor’s head down and kissed him. “Gawd, I love you too much. Let’s get this thing over with and go and find some nice comfortable bed and fuck the night away.”
They walked across the hallway, their footsteps on the ancient flags resounding off the high stone walls. In front of them were the double doors into the Great Hall. Trevor released Pip’s hand and pushed the doors open, then together they entered.
Everything was just how Trevor had instructed. He had phoned ahead the day before and given Duncan—the manservant who with his wife maintained the old pile for the family—instructions on what had to be done, and then told him that he and his wife would not be needed that night. The couple lived in the coach house on the far side of the courtyard, so any noise from the night’s events would not disturb them. As requested, a fire was burning in the grate.
Trevor released Pip’s hand and strode over to the fireplace. He picked up a couple of logs from the log box and threw them on. “Might as well have a good fire for what is coming.”
“It’s turning dark already, aren’t we a bit late?”
Trevor turned and looked at the worried expression on Pip’s face. “No, we still have a good hour till moonrise, and that’s when it will make its appearance… if it does.”
“You doubt it.”
“No, our dad told me all about it. It ruined his marriage to my mother, and your mother was the victim of his rebound.”
“Tell me about it, Trevor? I never really knew him so I never heard the story.”
“Right, sit yourself in the inglenook whilst I prepare the room.” He indicated the seat by the side of the fire.
Pip sat.
Trevor started to remove items from the shoulder bag he had brought with him. “According to Dad the story starts with one of our ancestors doing something fairly irresponsible with a local girl. Trouble was, she was also the daughter of the local witch, who, it is reported, was a woman of great beauty and great power. When our ancestor dumped the girl she killed herself. The witch cursed the family and pronounced that each generation would find great love, and then lose it.
Since then, that has really happened in each generation. Whenever one of our ancestors found somebody they really loved, something would happen and that love would be destroyed.”
“And you love me so much that you think it would destroy our love?”
“Yes, Pip, I do, and that’s why I intend to fight it.” He placed five wooden blocks on a small table near the fire. Each of the blocks bore a symbol. Pip recognised them as being similar to runes, though not the normal sort you saw in books on rune casting.
Trevor saw that Pip was looking at them. “Bind runes, luv. They are a combination of two or more runes brought together to form a sigil that has power. These are ward blocks. They are used to protect or contain an area.” He took a knife from the bag and pointed it at the arrangements of blocks.
“Bij te moeder and te dochter,
Bij ard, aer, vuur und vater,
Bij dis tenken I charge te,
Var jij art letten kien evil be.”
The words spoken sounded vaguely German or Dutch, but being familiar with both, Pip knew it was neither. “What was that?”
“It’s the charge, it sets the potential for the wards to work when needed.”
As the door closed the last rays of the setting sun caught upon Pip’s shoulder-length blond hair, causing it to glow like fire, reminding Trevor of their first meeting—that first moment of attraction, before they realised the immensity of what they were becoming involved in. How could they have known? How could they have understood? Neither of them had even known of the other’s existence until that day, some six months earlier, and by time they knew the truth about each other it was far too late; they were helplessly in love with each other.
It was, no doubt, the curse of Carr Dulm. Trevor tried to remember what his father had told him about it: each generation of the family was cursed with a love they could never have, a love that would destroy those involved. And it came close to destroying Pip and himself—siblings with the same father but different mothers.
They first became acquainted at the Intercontinental Hotel, both having flown in to hear the reading of their father’s will. In accordance with his instructions neither was told of his death until he had been well and truly disposed of; his body cremated and the ashes scattered at sea. That left only the will to be read, which the family lawyers were to do the Friday two weeks following the funeral, allowing everyone involved time to arrive for the reading. So it was that Pip and Trevor arrived at the Hotel on the Thursday night. They met in the bar.
All right, they were siblings but it was not as if they had known each other—or even about each other, really. Trevor did know that his father had carried on relationships with a number of women outside his marriage. He was even aware, from what his mother had told him, that at least one child had come from those relationships. That he might meet that child, however, had never occurred to him, nor did it cross his mind as he chatted to Pip at the bar or later over the dinner they had together. By the time they made their way by unspoken consent to Pip’s room, where Trevor had spent the night, it was already too late to raise such thoughts; they knew that they were in love and that they wanted to be together. It was only in the early hours of the morning, after sessions of love making, that they realised the truth, when they talked about what had brought them to Manchester.
Pip—understandably—had been upset at what they had done. Trevor had tried to comfort his sibling, saying that, as they did not know of their relationship, they could not be held to blame. He knew the argument was weak… it was not what they had done that was the problem, it was what they wanted to do. The desire was manifest in both of them and they both sensed there would be no denying it.
Pip asked Trevor to leave, which he did. In the morning each avoided the other, both taking breakfast in their rooms via room service.
At ten thirty of the clock, however, they met again—in the offices of Moraine, Shankline and Websters, Solicitors. When they saw each other they both knew that, no matter what, they wanted one another.
“What shall we do?” asked Pip.
“Find a way,” Trevor answered, trying to find a confidence that he did not have.
The bulk of the estate was within an entailed trust which went to Trevor, along with a useless title and a lump of obligations. There was a hunk of money that was outside the trust, and their father had split this equally between the two of them, together with such properties as were outside the trust. Then there was Carr Dulm, an ancient stone tower on its own desolate island, whipped by Atlantic winds; this their father had left to them jointly, to hold together, as if he had known. Maybe he had. Trevor cursed the old man, but thanked him as well for putting Pip on this earth for him.
All that was six months ago. Now they had come to Carr Dulm, a place of dread and fascination; the place that was at the centre of the curse upon the family.
Standing in the hallway of Carr Dulm brought back to Trevor all the stories he had heard about this place. The reading of six months earlier was no longer a dry academic exercise but something that came alive in this place.
Pip came and stood next to him, taking his hand. “You sure you want to go through with this?”
“No, but I don’t want it messing us up, either.” Trevor looked at Pip. “There is no reason for you to stay though… you can go.”
“Like hell lover boy! If you think that I am letting you out of my sight with a demon around you have another think coming.”
They stood looking into each other’s eyes; smiling, knowing.
Then Pip reached up, pulled Trevor’s head down and kissed him. “Gawd, I love you too much. Let’s get this thing over with and go and find some nice comfortable bed and fuck the night away.”
They walked across the hallway, their footsteps on the ancient flags resounding off the high stone walls. In front of them were the double doors into the Great Hall. Trevor released Pip’s hand and pushed the doors open, then together they entered.
Everything was just how Trevor had instructed. He had phoned ahead the day before and given Duncan—the manservant who with his wife maintained the old pile for the family—instructions on what had to be done, and then told him that he and his wife would not be needed that night. The couple lived in the coach house on the far side of the courtyard, so any noise from the night’s events would not disturb them. As requested, a fire was burning in the grate.
Trevor released Pip’s hand and strode over to the fireplace. He picked up a couple of logs from the log box and threw them on. “Might as well have a good fire for what is coming.”
“It’s turning dark already, aren’t we a bit late?”
Trevor turned and looked at the worried expression on Pip’s face. “No, we still have a good hour till moonrise, and that’s when it will make its appearance… if it does.”
“You doubt it.”
“No, our dad told me all about it. It ruined his marriage to my mother, and your mother was the victim of his rebound.”
“Tell me about it, Trevor? I never really knew him so I never heard the story.”
“Right, sit yourself in the inglenook whilst I prepare the room.” He indicated the seat by the side of the fire.
Pip sat.
Trevor started to remove items from the shoulder bag he had brought with him. “According to Dad the story starts with one of our ancestors doing something fairly irresponsible with a local girl. Trouble was, she was also the daughter of the local witch, who, it is reported, was a woman of great beauty and great power. When our ancestor dumped the girl she killed herself. The witch cursed the family and pronounced that each generation would find great love, and then lose it.
Since then, that has really happened in each generation. Whenever one of our ancestors found somebody they really loved, something would happen and that love would be destroyed.”
“And you love me so much that you think it would destroy our love?”
“Yes, Pip, I do, and that’s why I intend to fight it.” He placed five wooden blocks on a small table near the fire. Each of the blocks bore a symbol. Pip recognised them as being similar to runes, though not the normal sort you saw in books on rune casting.
Trevor saw that Pip was looking at them. “Bind runes, luv. They are a combination of two or more runes brought together to form a sigil that has power. These are ward blocks. They are used to protect or contain an area.” He took a knife from the bag and pointed it at the arrangements of blocks.
“Bij te moeder and te dochter,
Bij ard, aer, vuur und vater,
Bij dis tenken I charge te,
Var jij art letten kien evil be.”
The words spoken sounded vaguely German or Dutch, but being familiar with both, Pip knew it was neither. “What was that?”
“It’s the charge, it sets the potential for the wards to work when needed.”