Debra L. Rollins - Revenge For the Huntsman

For the umpteenth time the horse flicked Cierce in the face with his tail while batting at flies. Besides that, her wrists were sore at having been tied so long. To add insult to injury, the animal stunk, behaving in a fashion as horses do and she, not in the most strategic of positions, was forced to smell the aftermath. She had had enough. Writhing her body backward with as much energy she could expend she slid off the horse’s rump. She landed hard on the side of the narrow road and lay there, trying to catch her breath, which was nearly impossible with the gag she still wore.

Burly stopped the horse and slid off, walking back to her. He stood there looking down for a moment, sighed heavily and cut the gag away from her mouth.

“Burly Troll, you oaf!” she cursed at him, gulping air. “How dare you do this to me! Wait until I am a wolf again. I will tear you apart!”

“You already have.”

She grew silent. What did he mean by that?

“Well…I will,” she said on a more subdued note, the wind taken out of her sails. She studied him as he stood there staring down at her with an odd expression on his face. She had a hard time identifying it, but she swore it was…sadness. Burly the Troll? Sad? What did he have to be sad about, Cierce wondered? He was a prince, soon to be a king if all went well. As King of the Trolls he would have what every Troll would love to have…command of the Third Kingdom and more likely than not, all the leather he ever wanted. So why then, did he seem so morose?

Surprisingly he cut her bonds, then hopped back up on his horse and extended a hand to her. She hesitated a mere second, then grabbed hold, allowing herself to be hauled atop the horse once more…this time in front and in an upright position. She sat the beast stiffly, trying her best not to crowd the Troll behind her, but after awhile her shoulders ached, forcing her to relax against his chest. She was quite tired after an uncomfortable night in bondage; thus she dozed off to the horse’s rhythmic gait.

Burly knew the very moment Cierce fell asleep. Her breathing slowed as she curled her slender form unconsciously against him. His chest tightened as he noticed the angry, red welts that marred her skin at the wrists. His rage grew as he thought of the half-wolf that had placed them there, tempting him to take Madam Tatler’s revenge into his own hands. Guilt replaced the rage just as swiftly. He himself was the one that left them on for so long. He could have freed her of the bonds hours ago…but he did not. He had been so bend on retaliation when she had run off with their captives that he could not see how much damage the tethers were causing. He was as instrumental in her wounds as Wolf.

Burly could not help himself. He buried his face in her silver locks, deeply inhaling her sweet aroma. She was like a delicious drug. Not like magic mushrooms…anything as vulgar or coarse. She was intoxicating…like an excellent wine, aged to perfect bouquet and exquisite to behold.

His stomach lurched as she rubbed her face against his chest and whimpered like a young cub in her sleep. Were her dreams nicey-nice or did nightmares plague her, he wondered, then forced his attention to the road ahead. It was becoming ever thinner, harder to navigate. He turned to check on the other horse carrying Virginia and Wolf. Both were secured and also appeared to be asleep, although he didn’t trust either one, not for a minute. The little witch was crafty and even though Wolf was not a full-blooded wolf, he was still stronger than most humans, especially dangerous around the time of the full moon. Burly breathed a sigh of relief. The full moon cycle had passed the previous week; thus he would not have to contend with another pair of sharp teeth. He had had enough problems with the old wolf and the she-wolf he held in his arms. As for now, the net he made from the sticky tendrils of the gossamer vine held his captives firmly. They weren’t going anywhere and soon they would be at their destination.

Wolf turned his head slightly, peeking out the corner of his eye. The Troll prince seemed intent on leading his horse over the barely traveled goat path, which is what the road had eventually evolved into. At the moment, neither he nor the wolf called Cierce paid them any heed. He nudged Virginia’s shoulder, trying to rouse her from what he thought was sleep.

“Virginia,” He whispered.

She answered with an agonizing groan.

“Virginia!” he said, with concern. This time, she emitted a pathetic gurgle. Panicking, he realized that she was barely conscious. Hours of laying over the back of the horse had taken its toll. Both she and the cub might be in serious danger.

“Hey!” he shouted to Burly. “Hey, you there…Troll boy! We have to stop and let her down. She’s sick!”

“Ahhh, she’s not sick. It’s just a trick to get away. I-Burly the Troll know better than to fall for that one.”

“Grrrr! Huff-puff!” Wolf snarled, his eyes flashing green angrily. “What have you Trolls got against Virginia anyway? What has she have ever done to the Trolls to make them want to kill her?”

“Worry about yourself, Wolf.” Burly smiled unpleasantly. “We are here.”

Burly halted the horses at the crest of a deep gorge, overlooking an enchanting valley below. The panoramic view held no interest for the Troll prince. Instead, he woke Cierce from her slumber after he swung down from the gray’s broad back, holding out his arms to help her down. There was little reason to do so, for the transformed wolf was lithe. She needed no help in leaping off the horse’s back, but he couldn’t resist. Her pheromones were driving him crazy, plus it was possibly the last time he would ever be able to hold her. Even if it was for a moment, he could not resist temptation.

Cierce met Burly’s eyes, reading his thoughts. The next thing she knew, she was in his arms being kissed with a fire that she matched in turn. She understood his urgency, felt the hopelessness in that one kiss. The last kiss they would ever exchange once they returned to their true selves.

“Well…well, I can see that the two of you are getting along much better,” Madam Tatler stated sarcastically. “Just as long as you remember who you are, Prince Burly and what you are, Cierce, my little pet.”

Cierce and Burly jumped apart guiltily.

“We know what we are, old witch,” Burly admitted angrily, upset at the interruption. The woman had appeared from the dense tree line without a sound. Neither he nor Cierce had heard her approach, which was very disconcerting to a Troll indeed.

“See to it that you do. You certainly do not have a future together.” Zenda turned from the flustered pair to peer at the couple encased in vines. Wolf tried his best to keep still, but in his ire the vines closed about them ever tighter. They were literally being squeezed to death. Even breathing heavily was becoming dangerous.

“Gossamer vines?” The old witch noted. “I’m surprised, Prince Burly, that you had the fortitude to devise such a thing. You must hate this young woman very much to take a chance of creating netting of such deadly vines. Do with the woman what you wish, but as for Wolf, cut him away from the vines. I wish him to die as my dear son died…” She pulled the Huntsman’s bow from her skirts and selected a bolt from her pocket. “With the very same bolt that punctured his heart. It is a fitting death, do you not agree, my dear prince? A much better idea than just cutting out his heart.”

Burly stared at the wicked instrument of death.

“Indeed, it is a fitting death to be sure. Are you certain you do not want to torture him first?” Where was the excitement in killing if one didn’t torture the victim first? Relish would have turned over in his grave.

“Cut him loose from the vines, then bind him to that tree over there,” she commanded. “I will carry out his execution this very instant. I have already waited far too long to revenge my dear son.”

Burly nodded and did as Madam as wished. He could not pull off one prisoner without the other, so both Wolf and Virginia were cut free of the vine. They fell hard to the ground; Wolf trying his best to position his body under Virginia’s to cushion her fall.

“Cripes,” he gasped. The pressure of Virginia’s limp body and the hard earth below sandwiched him firmly, knocking the air from his lungs. Huff-puff! The things he did for love!

Virginia choked and gasped; finally able to take a normal breath of air into her starved lungs. The blood that flowed to her head in her awkward upside-down position was now able to resume normal channels. She stretched her arm and leg muscles to work out the kinks. It had been a long journey. An uncomfortable one to be sure. She spanned her hands over her abdomen. She could feel the babe squirm restlessly within her womb, awaking from it’s own slumber. Virginia issued a breath of relief. He was okay. Now if only the same could be said of his father.

Cierce stood by, grasping Virginia firmly as they all watched Burly tie the half-wolf to Madam Tatler’s specifications.

“Please, don’t let this happen!” Virginia begged Cierce. She could sense the wolf’s torment, as if she were torn between good and evil. Could Cierce be convinced to help Wolf escape? The enchanted wolf had saved her from Burly’s grasp once before, perhaps now that the moment was here, the she-wolf would not be able to go through with allowing Wolf’s murder.

Cierce turned away, closing her eyes to the young woman and bit her lip, drawing blood.

“I can do nothing for your Wolf. He was as good as dead when the Huntsman drew his last breath. My mistress has made a bargain, that I may go free upon his death and Burly delivers you to the Third Kingdom to await your own sentencing within their realm. Even if I changed my mind and sacrificed my own freedom to help Wolf escape, you would still perish. I tried once before to give you a chance to live, you and your cub. I’m sorry it failed, but I can do no more. If you had not killed Relish then maybe you would not be in this predicament in the first place.”

Virginia stared at her blankly.

“Relish? Relish the Troll King? The Trolls think I killed the Troll King?”

“Yes…you poisoned him and chopped off his head.” Cierce looked over at the young witch beside her suspiciously. “Don’t you remember? Is your blood still drowning your brain?”

“NO! No! What I mean is, I didn’t kill Relish! The evil queen did. Is this what this is all about? I’m to be killed for something I didn’t do?”

Cierce loosened her hold on Virginia…a confused expression on her face. If the woman before her was indeed telling the truth, then she and her cub must not be taken to the Third Kingdom. The Trolls would never believe her; they were out for blood. Blood to avenge their slain king. There would never listen to the woman, innocent or not.

Cierce watched as Burly stepped towards them, his lanky stride causing her heart to skip a beat. He was to be crowned King of the Trolls if he carried out his quest. But death awaited him if he returned home empty-handed. What if he was told of the woman’s pregnancy? Perhaps the Troll Council would be lenient if Burly himself ordered only imprisonment for her; thus she and cub within her would be spared. So many deaths were riding on a decision she had to make. If she helped Virginia escape, then Burly would die. If she allowed Burly to take the girl, then possibly not only would Virginia die…so would the cub. In all probability, Wolf would die anyway for he was trussed up to a tree waiting on Madam’s whim. And what would she, herself have? Freedom, she reminded herself. But at what cost? Burly would be lost to her, for a wolf could not physically share her life with a Troll and she refused to be a pet to him. She would rather die first.

Cierce closed her eyes and conjured up the face of her mother, remembered the love, comfort and safety she felt whenever she and her siblings lay down and cuddled at rest. The cub within this young woman would never know those feelings…would never be given the chance. At least she had been allowed time with her mother…even if it had been cut short by the cruelty of the Huntsman. She opened her eyes, silver in her anguish and beheld the gaze of love between Wolf and his Virginia. She made a decision.

“Burly Troll,” she began. “You must not allow this woman to die. She is innocent. She did not kill your father.”

Burly narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“The evil queen killed Relish. You have been misled.”

“Dragon’s dung! The little witch has gotten to you hasn’t she? What manner of spell has she cast? She is a crafty one indeed.”

“You fool! There is no spell. I believe what she says,” retorted Cierce. “Think about it, who said this girl killed Relish?”

“The evil queen, but…” Burly balked. “Even Madam Tatler said the little witch killed Dad.”

“The girl was bait to get you to bring back Wolf. My mistress doesn’t care one wit about you becoming Troll King. She seeks only revenge for her son’s death.”

“Cierce! That is enough!”

Zenda stomped angrily up to the enchanted wolf, snapped a collar around her neck and secured the lead to a nearby tree branch.

“Hey!” Burly snarled at the old witch. “You have your prisoner. You promised Cierce her freedom upon his delivery.”

“And you have your prisoner, Troll prince. As for my pet, I have changed my mind. It has come to my attention that Cierce can make me a wealthy woman. I have been told that silver wolf fur is worth its weight in gold Wendells, so I plan to mate her as soon as possible. Once her whelps are large enough they will be sold for their pelts.”

Cierce gasped, as the blood left her face, leaving her white with horror.

“You can’t do that!” Burly’s own face went blood red with fury.

“I can and I will.” Her lips curled in a cruel smile. “Take your “witch” and return to your kingdom, Troll prince. As soon as I release the bolt into the half-wolf, I will cancel my spell upon you. Take my advice, go home and be happy with your lot. Cierce will come to no harm; she will be quite pampered in her new position. The more offspring she produces, the more Wendells I shall receive.”

“Suck an Elf!” Burly cried, gnashing his teeth. The old witch held the bow steady at his heart. There was little he could do at the moment except watch as the old woman turned the bow back once more to the tree where Wolf was tied. All four gasped…Madam Tatler in anger.

Wolf had disappeared.