Debra L. Rollins - Revenge For the Huntsman

Madam Tatler waited impatiently by the magic mirrors day after day, even to the point of bedding in her cellar where she had stored them for safe keeping.

“Why hasn’t Cierce contacted me yet?” she muttered aloud. It had been a few days since she’d last heard from her pet and she grew weary of the wait. She would have Wolf’s heart on a spit, roast it, then feed it to Cierce once she transformed her back into the animal she truly was as a reward. She had no intention of releasing the she-wolf back to the homelands from wence she came. A trapper from the Second Kingdom had heard tales of the silver-coated wolf and wished to buy her for breeding. Silver wolf fur was worth quite a few gold Wendells, used in coats and fancy collars for the rich. He would pay handsomely for the wolf but Madam turned him down. Why not make profits off the wolf herself?

She stamped her foot in rage. Where was Cierce? Suddenly one of the mirrors lit brightly and crackled. Cierce’s striking features filling its frame.

“Mistress?”

“I am here,” she answered, her temper subsiding. “What news do you have for me? Good, I hope.”

“We are at the seamstress’s shop with Wolf and the witch.”

“Excellent!” Madam praised her pet. “How soon can you be here? My fingers ache to cut out the heart of the one whom killed my son!”

“I’m not sure, my Mistress. The Troll prince has been injured and needs a few more days rest. I was thinking…”

“You were not TOLD to think!” Madam Tatler shrieked at her. “You have been human far too long, Cierce my pet. Return to me at once, with or without the Troll prince. He is not my main concern, nor is his little witch, Virginia. Leave them and return with Wolf. NOW! This instant!”

Cierce’s eyes flared silver in anger, then cooled to an icy blue. If not for the fact that the old witch held her freedom in her hands…but no! She had to do as the witch told her. There was no other way.

“As you wish, Madam,” she answered, then turned the mirror off.

Burly awoke late in the day as the sun dove below the horizon. Tentatively he worked his shoulder muscles, careful not to pull too hard at the stitches. It was sore, but relatively painless. Whatever herbs the little Dwarf had used to clean the wound worked as a painkiller also. He felt fit and rested.

He rose from the pallet Doreen had prepared for him and dressed carefully, inspecting the newly cleaned leather, frowning as he discovered the two holes where the bullet had entered and exited his shoulder.

“Suck an Elf!” What was the point of ruining such fine leather? Humans! They were such wasteful creatures.

He walked into the front room of the Dwarf’s living quarters and glanced around the room. Dooren sat in the corner on a little rocking chair, darning, while the wounded wolf lay at her feet near the hearth of a cheery fireplace looking extremely contented.

Burly frowned…a sour look on his face.

“Where’s Cierce?”

“Gone.”

“Gone…? What do you mean gone?”

“Gone…as in left, Prince Burly. Nearly two hours ago if I remember correctly.”

“WHAT!” he bellowed. “Why that little…!” A sudden thought hit him and he raced to the storage room, knowing full well what he would find ahead of time.

It was empty of the prisoners.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He yelled at the little woman, stalking toward her in anger. The wolf stirred, growling low in her throat, hackles raising at the threatening gesture. Burly backed off. The wolf could still do some major damage with her teeth if he went any closer.

“Because you needed your rest, foolish Troll,” Dooren replied evenly. “Besides, I have an establishment to run. I can’t afford to keep my shop closed for any length of time. Others will become suspicious. It certainly wouldn’t do for my customers to find me with two prisoners in my storeroom. My livelihood shall not be compromised, not even for Zenda.”

Burly hurried to the stable behind her shop. There, where the carriage once stood, was an empty slot. Both horses also were gone. He hit the side of the stable with his fist in frustration. Suck an Elf! How was he to catch up with the little vixen and reclaim his witch prisoner now? The stall next to the one that the carriage had occupied was closed up, but he could hear movement from inside. Curious, he opened the gate. Inside was another horse, a large gray stallion.

“Hah!” he cried out triumphantly. “He will do quite nicely.” Burly led the prancing beast out of the stall, then saddled him. He would be able to catch up with the slower carriage easily as a lone rider, and the animal looked fast too.

“Stop!” Dooren rushed from the back of the shop, dismay spread across her face as Burly climbed atop of the stallion. “You can’t take that horse…he’s not mine. I’ve put him up for a neighbor while he’s gone.”

She may have well of been talking to herself. Burly disregarded her protests, raced through the gate and was gone.

The rat proved valuable in his information. He had watched the carriage as it left, taking a westerly route towards the vicinity of the Disenchanted Forest. The road they had taken was not the route King Wendell had taken the day before; the rat informed them, leaving Tony in a quandary.

Follow Wendell’s path, perhaps losing precious time in saving Virginia and Wolf from some horrid death or try to rescue them alone? They couldn’t just stay and await Wendell’s return. By then it may be too late.

“Think, Tony, think!” He rapped himself on the forehead with his knuckles. Okay he thought, Wendell had hordes of guards, all big and strong with all kinds of terrible weapons at their disposal. On the other hand, he had Marjorie. He looked over at Christine’s mother, weighing up her five foot-two, slim frame to that of perhaps ten of Wendell’s hulking castle guards.

“Well!” He said briskly, clapping, then rubbing his hands together as he made his decision. “No contest here, is there? We find King Wendell!”

Virginia felt sick. The constant swaying of the carriage didn’t help any, nor did the show Wolf was putting on for Cierce’s benefit. Though the silver-haired woman didn’t look a bit like Sally Peep, Virginia couldn’t help but be reminded how tempted Wolf was by the peaches and cream shepherdess. Of course his cycle had been coming on at the time and the girl had been nothing but a wanton hussy. Virginia stilled her thoughts. No need to think ill of the dead. After all, she had nearly flung her own self at him while overcome by the magic shoes. She had hardly been any better than Sally.

“Ah, my beautiful moon goddess,” Wolf droned on with a lovelorn expression on his face. “You’re soooo succulent. Quite delicious, I assure you.” He grabbed her hand as if to kiss it. “Where have you been all my life? I…”

“Hounds tooth!” Cierce exploded, irritably. “Enough already!” She pulled her hand from his grasp and pushed him towards the window hoping the evening air would clear his pheromone fogged brain. “Make me happy by staying over on that side of the carriage with your mate and leave me be!”

The old man Dooren had hired to drive the carriage set a fast pace, Cierce thought with a sigh. They would arrive at the home of her mistress in no time. Soon she could return to her natural form and run free once more, joining the two younger wolves that came with her from the other world. Perhaps they would join another wolf pack or maybe start one of their own. The old one had to stay with Dooren until she recovered. Then she too, could run free once more if she so desired. Cierce smiled. The Dwarf and the old wolf had taken to each other quite well. Perhaps the old one would prefer a warm cottage instead.

Cierce sighed again. At least she didn’t have that obnoxious Troll prince to contend with anymore. He would just slow her down anyway. Madam was right in telling her to leave him behind. But…she looked over at Virginia; she could not bring herself to leave the witch behind. There was something earlier she had noticed about the girl, who appeared the same age as her, some special scent she couldn’t recognize at the time but now did. The witch was with child. A cub, to be precise. She would have no hand in killing another wolf’s cub…no matter that the cub was not full blooded or even a different species of wolf. She refused to do it.

The images of her mother and siblings as they were being slaughtered came to mind. The memory was horrid, so she closed her mind to the thought. A groan from the other side of the carriage caught her attention. The Troll’s witch girl curled up on the small seat in misery as Wolf discreetly tried to comfort her. It didn’t help much, a second later the girl was hanging out the vehicle’s window.

“You’re pregnant,” It was a statement, not a question.

Wolf and Virginia looked at the transformed wolf in alarm. Wolf spoke first.

“What do you plan to do with her?” he asked, scratching his temple nervously. “You didn’t leave her with the Troll. You don’t need her, he does. So why did you bring her?”

“Would you preferred it if I had left her with Burly?” Cierce asked, wondering if he were complaining.

“Cripes, no!” responded Wolf quickly.

“Wolf,” said Virginia weakly. “Let me.” She looked her captor directly in the eye and asked, “What he’s trying to find out is if you mean to harm me also. With the Troll is the last place I wish to be, understand?”

“No harm shall befall you or your cub from my own hand, that I swear on the moon itself. I took you for my own personal reasons, not to kill you, but I shall not disclose those reasons either. Be thankful I gave you a chance to stay with your mate a little while longer, for once we reach my mistress your Wolf is to die.” Cierce saw the expression on the other girl’s face and winced. “I’m sorry, but I cannot change that fact.”

“You could let us go,” Virginia stated.

“Yeah, letting us go would be good,” Wolf agreed, gulping at the thought of some terrible death.

“As I have said before, there are circumstances.” Cierce hardened her heart to the pleading look on both of their faces. Wolf’s murder of the Huntsman was a blessing for all the animals of the Disenchanted Forest. She was glad when he had perished. But it was either her freedom or this half-wolf’s life and she had wanted her freedom for so long now, she could taste it.

“Be glad that you shall live on in your cub, Wolf,” she answered stonily, then turned away from them ending the conversation.

Night was falling once more, making the road treacherous to navigate. The driver steered the horses around one rut, only to hit another hidden by vines that had grown across the road. The carriage tipped precariously, throwing its occupants roughly against one side. It teetered for a second then rolled on its side. The two wolves, scared, jumped through the carriage window and ran off into the forest while Virginia landed hard again Wolf, knocking the breath out of him.

“Cripes!” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. His tail, tucked between his legs was crimped and the she-wolf had an elbow wedged uncomfortably in his side. “Are you okay, Virginia?”

“I-I think so, she said, voice shaking a bit. “What happened?”

“The carriage tipped over. We must have hit something in the road. Can you get up?”

“I think so, but with my hands cuffed it’s a little hard to manage. What about her?” she asked of Cierce.

“Alive, but out cold. She must have hit her head pretty hard. Wait a minute.” He grunted, twisting this way and that before sitting up. He had something small and metallic in his hand.

“The key to the handcuffs? Wolf, where did you find them?”

“I saw them around her neck on a chain when I sat with her earlier. Here, hold out your hands.”

With a twist of the key, Virginia was free. After she unlocked Wolf they climbed out the window which was now the roof of the overturned conveyance. The driver was nowhere to be seen, either having had been thrown and knocked unconscious himself or worse. Virginia looked back down through the gloom on Cierce. The wolf was still not moving.

“Do you think she’ll be okay? Maybe we should…”

“Oh, no! Not this time. No way, not again. Don’t worry about her. Remember the Huntsman? Didn’t you learn your lesson? This is a wolf-eat-human world, Virginia. I know she took you from the Troll but if we don’t do something to keep her from following us, she may find us again before we reach help.”

“Well, I don’t want to kill her. It’s not like she’s the Huntsman or anything like that.”

“Who said I was going to kill her?” Wolf grabbed the leather tether that had bound he and Virginia and jumped back down into the carriage. Quickly he bound the wolf’s wrists then climbed back out. “Hand me that broken wheel spoke, Virginia.”

He pulled the carriage window down, secured both it and the door from the outside with the rod.

“There, that should do the trick.” He pushed the rod home with a final shove. “Let’s see her get out of that one.”

One of the horses had broken free of the carriage and had run away, but the other was still bound, munching contentedly on a patch of grass. Wolf boosted Virginia up on the horse’s back, grabbing something from the ground before he also hopped up on the old mare. “Here, wrap this around your shoulders. That dress can’t be very warm.”

“Thanks. The night is getting cool. These clothes weren’t meant to traipse around in the middle of the woods.” She snuggled into the blanket he handed her and leaned back into his chest. She felt safe there even though they were not out of the woods yet…so to speak.

“Where are we going?”

“Well…” Quietly he took the pebbles from his nose. No need for these anymore, he thought, relieved to use his sense of smell once again, not to mention the fact that they were quite uncomfortable. “The Troll and the wolf both will probably try to find us once more. We will only be safe if we can reach King Wendell and his men. That means we have to stay off the main roads. I know this route well. About a mile ahead it splits off onto a road that is used little except for Trolls. We’ll go that way.

Virginia shook her head. Did she hear him correctly?

“Why in they world do you want to use a road that is used by Trolls? Are you insane?” “Burly will never expect us to use that road, neither should the wolf. Trust me, it’s the best way.”

She nodded her head and tried to relax but the jostling movement of the horse made her stomach queasy again. She groaned silently. It was going to be a long, long ride.