A breeze stirs the curtained windows through the opened door, blowing dust and sand across the threshold. All heads turn to access the figure silhouetted against the setting sun. The breeze stirs raven hair, tangling it over the broad shoulders, stray tendrils catching against dark lashed eyes that narrow to slits as they rake imperiously over the dim recesses in the room. An impatient gloved hand swipes across a ruddy cheek, peeling strands from impeding vision.
A nudge of a leathern boot plunges the room into a storm of flickering shadows accompanied by the loud thud of wood against the sill. Shrewd eyes make note of the attentive gazes, the interested stares, accessing each one before moving on in dismissal. Not here.
Arrogant strides expose strong thighs tightly encased, the muscular lines straining the well worn seams in the fabric. A chair creaks, protesting the weight being lowered into its depths. The sharp smell of sulfur attests to now extinguished candle set in the center of the scarred table. A knife is laid carefully upon the tabletop, near to the hands that then lay flat against the wood. A careful show of non-violence, yet a warning that it could change quickly if challenged.
Pricking unease as the interested eyes one by one return to previous occupations. A darting glance showing all have satisfied their curiosity for the moment. That, of course, could change at any time. An air of restrained gaiety as the noise level returns to normal levels. One table is louder than the rest as its occupants debated the rules of a dice game. Most of the patrons are farmers, drinking a pint before returning home for another day of back breaking work. A few local merchants gaming quietly, betting on the dart game between feisty young men. No other travelers. Not here.
The barmaid approaches, eyes darting nervously from the extinguished candle to the imposing figure now in shadow. Her eyes strain to make out the dark hair hanging long and straight over the tunic-encased shoulders, the travel-stained tunic, wrist bracers and leather vest. Her small pink tongue darts out to lick dry lips in anticipation of a coin or two. Travelers are rare, yet wealthy to have come this far.
I let her stare, knowing it to be the fastest way to spread word. As her gaze lifted, an arched brow acknowledged the blushing awareness of her offense. Her lips parted briefly as her weight shifted from foot to foot under my unerring attention. Silence grates on the nerves.
"Service?" High-pitched squeaking. She is nervous, and will remember well.
"Ale. Meat. Bread." The terse reply was curt. The brief urge to make her at ease passed with the knowledge that time was of the essence. Sustenance was the only reason to stop. Time would be wasted by ought else.
A few interested eyes followed her hurried path back to the bar with the order. I dismissed their attention. I had no need of the girl. Shoulders lifted and lowered, stretching sinew and muscle, muffling a soft groaning at the popping relief of travel aches and too many nights spent on the cold ground.
A soft cough gained my immediate attention. A hand shot to rest over the knife on the tabletop as dark eyes shot up to meet opaline green ones. Hands held out from his sides in an obvious display of unarmed casualness. I had cause to know better.
"You're a stranger here?" Green eyes did not miss the placement of hand over tabled knife.
"Aye." Short, gruff monotone answers. Broad enough hint for those who listen.
"Could I interest you in a game of chance? This tavern offers many of interest, stranger."
The arrival of the barmaid with pitcher, meat and bread saved me the annoyance of replying. She caught the coin tossed in her direction, biting down to test it before tucking it under her apron. Her hasty retreat made her opinion clear.
"Perhaps after you eat then." Persistent, this one. Not one who listens well.
"Perhaps." I picked up the knife, cutting into the meat. A dismissal a blind man would not have missed.
He shuffled off to a corner. I watched out of the corner of one eye until he settled back into his booth alone, sipping his drink. Curiosity. Not a good thing to be burdened with in these times.
A casual lift of a hand to itch under the tunic assured the presence of the knife strapped over the bindings. A slight shrug popping more sinews before cutting a piece of bread, drenching it in the greasy meat drippings. Not royal treatment, but I did not expect such in this place. Not here.
Stranger. Aye, to these parts now. So much had changed from memory's eye. Too many changes. So many memories.
********
Grassy hills parade through the valley, stretching as far as the eye can see. Verdant trees and undergrowth tangle in harmony to disguise the creek gurgling across stones. Peace of nature broken only by the high-pitched giggle of a girl who dances across the stones of the creek, bared toes gripping else she plunges into the cold water. Long hair caught back into braids that jump and dance on the wind, she is never still for them to lie flat. As she looked up, healthy color bloomed in her cheeks, her lips widened with smile as she caught a glimpse of the stony faced boy at the creek's edge.
"You will get wet."
The girl laughed again, a high pitched sound that carried like a bird's song to the boy. She squared her shoulders, her figure not yet fulfilling the promise of adulthood. "No I won't. You taught me well!"
A snort of disbelief was all that was heard. She lifted her eyes from her water-covered toes to the tow-headed young man.
"Come, William. You are too serious! Come wading!"
"I have no time to play, Father sent me to fetch you."
Another laugh as she hopped from stone to stone until the safety of the bank was reached. She plopped down to stuff socks into her boots. "Then why didn't you say so instead of being so grumpy?"
"I have more important things to do than send messages to devil children. Tis a waste of time." The stony faced youth grudgingly offered a hand of assistance up the steep bank.
By rote her response came. "I'm no devil child." She shook her skirts free of droplets and draped boots over her shoulder by the strings. "You used to like to go wading, Will... what has changed you?"
"I've grown up!" came the huffy reply.
An aborted laugh escaped her throat in a strangling breath of sound, disbelief written plain on her face. Seeing his scowl deepen, she heaved a sigh as he started walking away.
"I'm sorry, Will. But you're only a year older than I. You're too serious by half!"
"And you're not serious enough. Come on," came the irritated reply.
She blew wayward strands of hair out of her face as she studied his back. William had recently returned from fosterage to their father's best friend, a well known Warrior and Lord. Apparently, Will had lost his sense of humor somewhere along way in return for this new "manly" attitude. Her sigh was much-put-upon, but Will didn't hear. She quickly followed in his path, losing sight of him momentarily as the wind changed position.
"Will! Wait!"
She tried to untangle her skirts from the foliage, snagging loose tendrils on the branches in her struggling and hissed softly as a sharp stone made its presence known. As always, her impatience made her pay for small sacrifices like braiding hair and lacing boots. She looked for Will but he had rounded the path and gone on. She disentangled herself from the bushes and rushed ahead. The forest ended abruptly and the valley stretched before her view. Her eyes took in the richness of the soil with the healthy crops growing in between clearings of trees.
Her Family had done well these last few years, growing most of their own foodstuffs, and having to trade little animal furs for outside luxuries. As her eyes traveled the lush valley, they came to rest on the castle a fair distance across the valley, it's towers stretching up to touch the sky. Will was nowhere to be seen, but it did not occur to her to worry. Will had made sure she had been included in his lessons of tracking, hunting and survival. Times were too uncertain to forgo knowledge that could be useful, even if she was a girl.
She took her time, picking her way down the hill, gathering wildflowers in her apron for her mother's table. The summer days were long and warm, soon the leaves on the trees would change color and fall in preparation for the harsh winter ahead. But for now, it was a carefree summer's day. All too soon it would change, along with her own course. By Samhain, she would be married. An unpleasant prospect she was determined to not think about. Yet many of the other girls her age already had established families.
A cracking snap of wood made her turn abruptly, spilling the flowers to the verdant carpet beneath her bare feet. A gasp of dismay caught in her throat as they stepped from the shadows not more than a few strides from where she stood. Her eyes darted between the two dark figures as her mouth opened to scream. A hand reached out for her as the sound briefly pierced the forest din. Darkness fell as one cuffed her into oblivion. The valley resumed it's peaceful look as they faded back into the forest with their burden.
************
She woke to a throbbing head and darkness. Squinting did not help the fierce headache. Gasping, she fell back against the ground, her fingers numb and her shoulders aching from the cords binding her wrists behind her back. The slight noise brought the attention of her captors to her. From where she lay, multiple pairs of leather boots were the only thing she could see. One helpful soul pulled her to her feet, steadying her as she swayed on shaking limbs. Swallowing past the dryness, she looked up to take stock of her precarious situation.
Her gasp hurt her dry throat and she shrunk back into the arms of the one who held her. Dark eyes widened in fear as they darted from each being to the next. Limbs refused to obey commands to run.... run from these things.. these BEASTS!
It proved too much for her waning strength and she collapsed in a heap on the ground once more.
The gleaming of many eyes followed her, the only movement was a flash of an ivory smile as one laid a blanket over her unconscious form.
***********
The alarm passed through the valley, her disappearance marked by the roving patrols that searched the forests, ranging farther and farther in desperation. After much deliberation and harassment from his advisors, her Father called off the search, pronouncing his daughter lost to the beasts of the forest. Grumbling persisted of a devil child going off with the beasts as fitting. Of all the valley inhabitants, only two truly mourned her loss.
Standing on the battlements letting the wind whip his long hair with a vengance, the black strand laced heavily with grey, his shoulders slumped in his grief. His back to the stairs, he felt rather than heard his son's approach. "Yes, Will?"
Will stood next to his Father, staring out across the valley. "She gone, Father. She's really gone." His voice broke as an arm came around his shoulders for a brief hug.
"Yes, Will, she is. But we will remember."
"Yes, Father."
He sent one last searching look over the valley, breathing a silent prayer for his daughter's safety before turning to his son who so resembled his sister in coloring if not in temperament. "Come, we'll go down."
"Yes, Father." Will sent one more glance over the battlements before following his father. He would never forgive or forget.
************
