Mary-Cade Mandus - Skin Deep

A yard or so from the entrance to Filch’s bower, Mutch stood scenting the air. Like Amadeus, he too had detected the bitter stench of troll intermingling with the stranger’s blood. A meticulous olfactory exploration of the area in which the stranger had been found had detected only traces of the man's presence and no other. That brought some relief, as trolls were extremely volatile and made all the more so when injured. In his youth he had participated in several skirmishes with the nasty creatures and, while confident that his prowess had by no means diminished, he was just as glad his faculties and vigilance would not be diverted by a confrontation with one. For there was something else upon the air.

Mutch’s eyes narrowed. He had become aware of it several months ago but had kept the suspicion close; no need to alarm Mistress until he had identified its nature and source. At first perceiving it had been a mere hint, a suggestion; now with the arrival of the stranger it was very nearly palpable. One thing he was almost certain of - it presented a threat more perilous than any troll. Nervously he scratched at an ear. Slinging the spoils of his day's hunt over a shoulder, he gave the woods a final scan and started for home.

As he trotted along, memories dogged his path. Memories of the night he and Mala, along with the others, had fled with their mistress into the Wilderness. He had sworn then to safeguard their new sanctuary with his life. But it had not been his life that had been forfeited.

The Wilderness was a paradox even for the Nine Kingdoms; the truth of its origins lost in time. Legends and tall tales only served to muddy the facts further, thus Mistress had been unaware of the Shifting and the tragic effect it would have. Alistair had been the first to succumb, then, eight months later, Mala.

Alistair's age had probably been the defining factor in his demise; when the Shifting occurred it had proven too much for his fragile system, but Mala's pending condition had caused no real concern at first. After all, pregnancy was a natural occurrence.

There had been no time to tell him before their escape but when Mala was finally able to break the news that she was carrying, his joy had been uncontainable. Even the unnaturalness of their new lives had not lessened their happiness, but it would prove to be a terrible liability. Perhaps, if conception had occurred after the Shifting, events would have ended otherwise but, already a month along before entering the enchanted forest, Mala’s new body had struggled and failed to adapt. And so when her time came, only one infant had survived: Toddy. Mistress had done everything she could but it had been to no avail and the following morning he had laid his beloved mate and their nine stillborn sons and daughter in a chilly grave.

That had been six years ago but the agony of loss was as fresh as though it had happened yesterday. Mutch felt the howl welling and was powerless to stop it.

Elena started; her fingers closed reflexively around the wet cloth splattering water over her unconscious patient’s face. His head rolled fretfully upon the pillow as she gently blotted away the droplets. Sinking back in the chair, she stared sadly out the window toward the forest, her throat tightening as Mutch’s mournful cry died away.

Her gaze and attention drifted back to her patient. After all these years, a stranger had come to the Wilderness. Of course, that was true only in the sense that no human had ever shown up. Not long after they'd settled in, Mutch had discovered Hyacinth wandering dazedly through the woods. Then, just several months ago, Amadeus had appeared on the cottage doorstep. Both creatures had been bewildered, not to mention terribly frightened, and Elena, overcome by pity, had taken them in, provided clothing and food, and had tried, to the best of her ability and their level of comprehension, to explain the Shifting. Apparently accepting of their destinies, they had adjusted and were now well-ensconced members of her little 'family'.

So certain had she been that the Wilderness’ notoriety would serve as a deterrent to any pursuers as well as trespassers, that as time had passed and no human had been sighted within its borders she had allowed herself to be lulled into complacency and, therefore, had been badly shaken when Filch had brought her the news that a wounded man had been found and put to bed in the cottage.

With heart hammering she'd hurried to his bedside. Her fear had subsided a little when she saw the condition he was in. The wounds he’d suffered could only have been acquired outside the Wilderness and doubtlessly it had been pain and delirium that had caused him to enter rather than any deliberate action or motive. Fear alleviated for the time being, she’d cleansed, sewn and wrapped his wounds as best she could. Now, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, she noted that it came away slightly damp. Perhaps the fever was finally breaking. Well, it was in Destiny's hands whether or not he survived. The next few hours would tell.

Elena crossed to the window and dumped the water basin’s contents over the sill. Replacing it next to the bed and making sure her patient was well covered, she gathered up the empty ewer and bloody cloths and left the room. Once outside she headed to the kitchen-house, setting the ewer, as she passed, upon the well's ledge for refilling later.

Within the homey kitchen, it was breathlessly warm after the chill outside and she squinted against the blinding light. It always took a moment to reacclimatize after being outdoors or in the cottage for any length of time.

Hyacinth, low-slung jaw chewing incessantly, was seated before the fire placidly cutting wild onions and tossing them into a pot of bubbling barley and mushroom soup hanging above the flames. The woman welcomed Elena with a lazy smile, her large lumpish hands and jaw never pausing in their tasks. Amadeus dozed contentedly in a corner near the hearth.

Depositing the soiled cloths in a basket set aside for washing, Elena rinsed her hands and, drying them on her apron, strolled over to the hearth. Leaning over the steaming pot, she gave the soup an appreciative sniff and Hyacinth’s broad back an approving pat. The woman’s head bobbed with pleasure at the compliment.

At that moment, Toddy burst through the door, a large crayfish dangling by the tail from his chubby fingers. His father came fast on his heels carrying a brace of plump rabbits, half a dozen pigeons and a wild boar piglet. Kneeling before Elena, Mutch deferentially placed the game upon the floor at her feet. She affectionately stroked the bent, shaggy head as she thanked him and applauded his skill, her eyes tearing as she recalled his anguish earlier. Selecting a tender pigeon for her dinner, she sat down at the table and set about plucking and preparing it for stuffing with wild garlic and herbs.

Mutch gathered up the remaining game. He’d hang the remaining pigeons and piglet out in the larder and take the rabbits for his and Toddy’s supper. In passing, he dropped a small sack into Hyacinth's apron. Lifting it she sniffed at the thin burlap, then, with a snort of delight, upended the bag. A mixture of fresh picked clover mixed with timothy hay tumbled into her lap. Grinning hugely, she shaped a good portion of the fragrant mass into a wad and stuck it into her cheek. As her teeth ground into the tender vegetation, her large brown eyes closed in pleasure.

A howl of outrage shattered the cozy atmosphere. Three heads turned in unison toward the hearth's far corner. Each face exhibited singly: amusement, bored irritation and deep satisfaction at the tragic-comedy being enacted there. Amadeus, his body quivering in fury and pain, was tugging frantically at Toddy's crayfish, whose claw firmly clasped the lobe of his ear. Whirling and yowling, the boy attempted to dislodge the crustacean but the violent action only caused its grip to tighten. Toddy, his face screwing into a teary howl, glanced helplessly back and forth between Amadeus and his father.

Everyone knew that crayfish were a particular favorite of Amadeus' but the crustaceans had proved elusive as of late, so when Toddy had spied one crawling in the burn's shallows he had scooped it up and proudly borne it home to present to his idol. He hadn't intentionally dropped it on the napping boy's head; it had twisted up and pinched his thumb…hard.

With a cross between a snarl and a sob, Amadeus wrenched his ear free. The swollen lobe sported a bright crimson earring of blood. Furiously the boy bashed the crayfish over and over against the stone of the hearth until it fell limp. Wheeling around he spotted Toddy, who gave him a tremulous smile. The child's smile froze when Amadeus barred his teeth, and a menacing rumbling sounded deep in his throat. Gingerly Toddy began inching backwards, whining anxiously. Strong arms immediately scooped him up and with relief he found himself settled upon the safety of his father's shoulder. Tightly clasping his father's neck, he stared down in wounded reproach at Amadeus.

Clutching his son, Mutch faced the enraged teenager and growled a warning. Glowering, Amadeus backed down, then, perceiving Elena's presence, began mewling pathetically and cradling his ear. Hyacinth snorted and rolled her eyes but Elena, amused by his histrionics, bade a close-lipped Mutch to fetch water. Soaking a cloth in the icy liquid, she held it against the injured ear while Amadeus laid his head upon her knee. His body shuddered in pain, but there was also a glimmer of satisfaction in his eye.

Gently lowering a sniffling, downcast Toddy to the floor, Mutch grabbed one of the rabbits and squatted down before him. The emotional trauma of the past few moments was promptly forgotten when the child caught a whiff of the tempting cuisine and soon he was jumping exuberantly about his father's legs as he followed him from the kitchen- house to their one-room hut at the forest's edge.

Propped against Elena's knee, Amadeus watched through hooded eyes as father and son departed. His own stomach had begun to complain. From his position he could just make out pieces of splintered shell and his mouth watered at the thought of the crayfish's succulent flesh. He basked in Elena's ministrations for a few moments longer, then squirmed restlessly, signaling his wish to rise. Elena withdrew the cloth and the boy jumped gracefully to his feet. Taking her hand he rubbed his cheek gently against the palm to show appreciation for her kindness, then, careful not to appear too eager, he retrieved the remains of the iniquitous crayfish and with a bow withdrew to savor the treat in private.