The Maiden's Hand- Part 1.
Chivalry and ancient curses.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |Part 4
I
“P-p-put it down, f-f-for goodness’ sake!”
They tossed it to each other, laughing as Peter clutched at the air, hoping to catch the hand. “I bet he stuffs it in his trousers,” Jack said. “Or takes it to bed.”
Benedict Hillbury doubled over, his face growing a deeper shade of crimson with the roaring laughter. Jack continued, “Hopes it’ll wake up and toss him off.” Hillbury progressed to hyena shrieks, and collapsed on the couch. Jack lifted the hand once more to throw it over to Rupert Benyon, the third corner of Peter’s triangle of torment. Benyon caught it with the agility of a cat, and flung it back.
“Please!” Peter cried in a final plea.
“All right, that’s enough,” said his cousin, Wilfred, walking into the room with his jacket slung across his shoulder. “He’s not wrong. It’s my father’s, and it’s old.”
Wilfred’s word among his Cambridge peers was final. “I mean it, Jack. Put it back in the case before Peter starts crying.”
Peter stood there, small in his cousin’s company. He looked at Wilfred, almost finding the courage to say thank you, but his cousin beat him to it with a, “Now, fuck off.” That was more like it.
Peter left.
The raucous, unwanted party had arrived at the house only two hours before. Wilfred, inquiring as to where his father was, rolled his eyes the moment African expedition emerged from Peter’s stammering mouth. No housekeeper required when the half-servant-half-blood-relative was at home. “Uncle Howard doesn’t n-n-n-eed one, right now.”
“Well, it’s my house.” Wilfred shrugged. “It will be, anyway. Let us in.”
“H-h-h-e—”
Bodies forced him out of the way, rolling his tiny frame into a vase in the hallway. It threatened to jump off the table, but he darted and caught its curved shoulders with his sweating hands.
“Who is this little chap, anyway?” Hillbury asked, dumping his bag in the hall.
“My cousin, I think,” Wilfred said with a sly smile that curved under his thin moustache. They followed him into the parlour room. “My uncle lived in Egypt. I heard he bedded a local whore and came back crying to my father with his little bastard in tow. Father let him stay, so he feeds the chickens and watches the house. Oh and he gets drinks too—Peter, get us all a drink.”
“I-I-I—”
“Forget it. I’ll do it.”
They ignored him for the rest of the evening until Jack took the mummy’s hand out from its glass case on the mantelpiece. It looked so small and frail compared with his brawny frame and large hands.
“That’s n-n-n-ot yours!”
Jack sneered, and looked to his companions for reassurance. They thought it was a funny outburst too. “D-d-d-o you want me to p-p-p-ut it down?” he mocked, pretending to cry.
Peter nodded.
As Jack opened the glass case to put the hand back in, Wilfred called through, summoning them to the billiards room. They left Peter to silently readjust the artefact, handling it as though its owner was still attached, and in great discomfort.
“What’s that hand all about?” Jack asked. The balls clinked, rolling away in response to the thunderous smack of his cue.
Wilfred stood near the wall, rubbing the chalk onto the tip of his cue rhythmically. He blew harsh, quick breaths to dust it off and returned the chalk to his pocket. He looked to Hillbury, who was listening intently, drinking scotch, and Benyon, draped across a chair flicking through a book.
“It’s been in my family for decades,” Wilfred said. “My father said it was the hand of an ancient princess. They cut it off so she couldn’t pass into the afterlife. The most disgraceful of deaths.”
“Crikey,” Jack said.
Wilfred smirked, and continued. “Some say if you see a lady walking about with one hand, it’s the dishonoured daughter of Ahkenatan, or something. They all sound the bloody same—but anyway—once she has it, she can be whole again.”
“I’d make a princess whole again. With my own artefact,” Jack said, thrusting his crotch forward. Hillbury sniggered, and sipped some more scotch. Benyon barely looked up, but grinned nonetheless.
“I wouldn’t be alone in the room with it at night,” Wilfred said, leaning over the table to take his shot.
“You are joking, aren’t you?” asked Jack.
“No.” Wilfred’s cue glided forward, found its target, and sent two balls to the same pocket with a clap. “I rarely joke about things like that, old chap.”
Do you need more Ancient Horror to keep you going until Part 2?
Other news
Chapter 2 of The Ring, the second Muldoon Mystery is coming on Sunday 21st February. Thank you for joining me on the journey so far. Here’s chapter 1.
In last week’s newsletter, I announced that I was running a competition for readers and writers to celebrate a year of being on Substack. You can still enter until 28th February! You can win a signed copy of The Spider or a free critique.
I’ve been on Youtube discussing my latest reads, and I will be discussing Pet Sematary in my next video. You can see my channel here.
I’ve got a new book coming out! The Midnight Vault is a collection of dark tales inspired by The Twilight Zone and features stories from 29 authors! I am one of them. Click the image to find out more about it. The paperback is coming on 15th March 2025 but the ebook is available to pre-order now.
Love it! Can’t wait to see what happens to those smarmy jackasses. An Egyptian princess exiled from the afterlife doesn’t sound like someone I’d want to irritate.
Hooked- hoping something fun and terrifying happens to Jack et al.