Prologue

Prologue

The small constant tapping sound of hammers on nails echoed throughout the empty fields of tobacco plants. Eighty-five acres of rolling hills; five acres to the north were reserved for the tobacco fields; to the south, eight acres were reserved for the new vineyard that was just now being plowed by horse and man; to the very back, in the west of the plantation was a total of forty acres of forest were reserved merely for the habitation of deer and other animals. In the center and in front of the deer reservation, taking up a total of ten acres was the wooden skeleton of a manor being built.

Standing at enormous height and lining long, the manor had men standing on temporary scaffolding lining the house. Men pushing wheel barrels filled with tools and dirt circled the house. Four men stood on saw horses while running their tired sharp toothed instruments through lumber. The sun was setting, letting through light orange red rays through purple clouds.

Fifteen yards away stood a slightly plump man dressed in a white business suit. On his half bald head sat a dirty white fedora with a black center ban. His gray mustache rounded just slightly at the ends. His dark brown eyes gazed on the large mansion before him. He leaned very carefully on his black cane that held the silver head of a gaping mouthed lion. The man smiled and licked the corner of his mouth. "Marvelous." He whispered with a deep voice.

"Sir?!" Said a scratchy young voice not too far away from the elderly gentleman. "Mr. Bridgewood?"

He blinked and turned around to see his young assistant walking behind him. A gentle smile crept on this face. "Reynolds! Good to see you dear boy!"

Reynolds was only two years short of thirty, with a full head of red hair and a thin mustache on his upper lip. His narrow, but large, blue eyes held the wonder and excitement of a child. His thin fitting frame held well under his expensive dark green suit with pink tie. In his right hand was his usual brown bowler hat and in his other hand was a brown leather briefcase.

The young assistant stopped short of his boss and sighed. "So this is it?" He asked as he nodded at the manor.

Bridgewood smiled at the young man and then turned his attention to the house. "Taylor Manor."

Reynolds nodded again as he started to look around them, studying the land. "Eighty five acres for one man?"

"Aye, but a man deserving of this kingdom." Bridgewood said with a snicker. He slammed his harsh hand on the back of his assistant, which made Reynolds stumble just slightly. He shook his head and looked back at the manor. "He has given everything to me, Reynolds my boy, everything. It is my time to give back."

Reynolds studied his boss for a moment in confusion. "But surely you don't mean to have Zachary Taylor head of this?"

Bridgewood smacked his lips and glanced at Reynolds from the side of his eye. "You know what the man has done for us. Not just you and I Reynolds, but for the whole country. He fought for King and Queen in England only to settle in the states where he fought against the very people he served. He has helped me start the business with rail roads and coal. Not to mention that he is fighting for the very lives of billions of slaves with our President as we speak. I can't think of any other noble man that deserves this home."

He smiled, which he normally did when he heard Bridgewood speak of the mysterious business partner. "I tell you, sir, I hear so many things about this Zachary and yet I have never met him."

Bridgewood smiled and chuckled as he pulled out his gold pocket watch from the pocket of his vest. He opened the watch and studied the hands. "Oh, you will in time. He is coming to pay us a visit tonight. He is staying at my lodgings for three days before returning to Washington."

Reynolds darted a startled glare with a smile. "Indeed? What an occasion then."

Bridgewood gently laid his left arm on the thin shoulders of Reynolds after he slipped his pocket watch back into the vest. "Yes, we have matters to speak over. Mainly matters about you and he and what you both shall do with my estate as well as my business when I am gone."

He lowered his head and blinked wildly at the thought. "But sir, you haven't begun to reach sixty! What makes you think that it is time to speak of your end?"

Bridgewood shrugged as he kept his arm on the lad, walking him forward to the manor. "You have to understand, Reynolds, I am a tiring old man and I want escape from it all. Slowly, but surely, you and Zachary shall be controllers of my estate and business. I have already made it so in my last will and testament."

Reynolds pulled himself away from Bridgewood's grasp. "What of Glenda and your children?"

Bridgewood patted the young man's shoulder and pulled him in again with a quick nod. "Yes, yes, they will be cared for, but what I am speaking of is leadership. I need two young men to lead the future of my hard labor, you understand?"

Reynolds gave a slow nod. "Yes and I understand why this Taylor fellow, but I am not exactly sure why I am included?"

"Because we have watched you for some time now, Mr. Reynolds." Said a mysterious voice from behind the two.

Both Reynolds and Bridgewood turned around to the voice. Reynolds studied the figure dressed in a deep lush red business suit that had a long coat tailored to match the suit underneath. The young man was average height and build with paper like pale skin and golden blond hair. Out of all the features on the young man, Reynolds could not but help looking into the man's eyes; the iris of the eyes were a bright red and seemed to glow in the twilight of the setting sun.

Bridgewood smiled to the figure. "Ah! Zachary, so good to see you." He quickly hobbled over to Zachary with an out stretched hand.

Zachary smiled and shook the old man's hand. "Dear Martin, always a pleasure." He voice was both boyish and soothing deep at the same time. "How are the family?"

Reynolds started his walk over to the young Zachary with confusion, still studying the man's odd features. His canines were slightly longer and sharper than most men and his ears seemed to point at the ends.

"The little bastards are running amok in my house, splashing mud all over the furniture. Glenda does keep a good mind over them though." Bridgewood laughed.

The stranger smiled at Bridgewood and then turned his red eyes to the young assistant walking towards him. "Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Reynolds." He slowly held out his hand.

Reynolds looked at the pale hand that had long nails that formed into a point. He gently took the hand and felt the cold skin meet his. "Yes it is, Mr. Taylor."

Zachary laughed. "Please call me Zachary. You and I are going to be long term acquaintances from now on and I think we should be on a first name basis. Don't you?"

Reynolds nodded as he removed his hand. "Mr. Bridgewood has spoken very highly of you Mr...Zachary. However, I am confused. Before I saw you, I assumed you to be at least sixty years of age, yet you appear to be no older than twenty."

Zachary gave a short boyish chuckle. "I do understand your confusion, but I assure you sir, I am far older than that." He gave a half grin to the confused young assistant. "In fact, I am much older than sixty. Ah, but you will grow to understand my odd age and my odd appearance." He slowly turned his gaze on the now darkened skeleton of the manor. "In time, you will understand that all things are not what they seem."