Authors: Rebecca A. Rogers
Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Historical Fiction, #Renaissance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #young adult teen werewolves fantasy magic historical
A smirk crept across Ulric’s lips. He had satisfaction in knowing Daciana truly wanted him to visit her, to stay with her, to
be
with her. How long that would last, he knew not. Had the calamitous circumstances they were in not happened, would they have found each other’s company? Mayhap, but he was not assured.
“All right, my dear,” he said. “I shall stay for one meal, and then I must take my leave.”
This seemed to satisfy Daciana, as she beamed in return. “I wish to join the hunt tonight,” she blurted.
Ulric snapped his head in her direction. “Absolutely not. If I have any hold over ye, I would forbid this from happening. Ye know how dangerous this hunt is, and women should not be involved in any manner.”
Daciana frowned. “Women can do as much, if not more, than men. I think thou underestimate our abilities.”
“For what ’tis worth, I do not wish to see ye hurt.” Ulric winced at the thought of Daciana bleeding from terrible injuries, or her unmoving body lying on the forest floor, her soul departed eternally. He would not be able to live with himself should something happen to her.
Confused by his overwhelming emotions, Ulric joggled his head to remove any remaining morbid thoughts.
“I will not be wounded,” Daciana argued. “I will have strong men protecting me from any harm.”
“Daciana,” Ulric uttered through gritted teeth, “now is not the time to—”
“Thou cannot sway me. I will show up with or without thee.” She elevated her chin to prove a point.
Ulric knew the conversation would go nowhere, and Daciana would not listen to him further. He would have to think of a plan to keep her away from the hunting party by nightfall; otherwise, he would not be able to appropriately keep his mind open during the hunt. All thoughts would be of Daciana, of protecting her.
Throughout their noonday meal, Ulric remained particularly quiet. Even after he departed Daciana’s residence, he could not stop thinking about the wolf pursuit occurring later that evening. What if somebody from town was injured? What if
he
was injured? The unexpected made him more anxious than usual.
Upon Ulric’s return, he was surprised to see Alaric having a meal with their father. Both men glanced up at Ulric’s entrance.
“Where have ye been?” asked Frederic. “Thy brother has slaved over a meal and ye cannot even join us.” Frederic grunted in dissatisfaction.
“I had my meal at Daciana’s,” Ulric stated. “But I must confess, I am surprised Alaric has the ability to cook without utterly destroying the entire fare.”
Alaric threw a wooden spoon at his brother’s face, but Ulric ducked just in time. “I will have ye know, I prepare food better than ye.”
“Is that so?” Ulric narrowed his eyes impishly and stalked over toward the hearth. Dipping his finger in the scalding soup, he brought it to his mouth for a taste. “It needs more salt, brother. Perhaps an herb or two, something to spice up the flavor.” He slapped Alaric twice on the shoulder. “Mayhap ye will get it correct next time, if there is one.” With that, he retreated to his room for slumber until the evening’s main event.
Only, for unknown reasons, he could not sleep. His mind swam with horrible quandaries involving Daciana and other men from town. In one scenario, only a few people were injured, and the wolf was captured and killed. In another scenario, Daciana was harmed, and Ulric felt he was responsible, but once again, the creature was caught. But in the final scenario, nobody survived.
Ulric tossed and turned in his bed for several hours, unable to achieve any rest. When the townsmen came knocking on the Conways’ door, Ulric was drowsy and agitated but ready to face the monster wreaking havoc on his life. Several of the men, including Mr. Murdock, carried swords and pitchforks, which glinted in the soft light of their lanterns.
“Are ye ready?” asked Mr. Murdock, who stood at the front of the group, as their leader.
“Aye,” Ulric replied. “Let me gather Alaric.” Ulric jogged down the short hallway and pounded on his brother’s bedroom door. Alaric answered almost immediately, with a quick nod.
The undersized group of men stopped by several other houses along their way to the forest. More chaps joined their ranks, and, for a while, Ulric and Alaric silently mused whether they would have felt the same had they joined the rebellion against the crown. Though neither had given more thought to heading north for the revolt, they briefly questioned if that would have been the correct decision, or even if ’twould have been easier than the choices they made recently. After all, chasing a rabid wolf was not any man’s specialty.
“Point us in the exact direction,” Mr. Murdock said to Ulric. “Wherever you and that Lowell girl saw the hellish creature.”
Ulric led the way, with more than a dozen men following closely. “’Tis up ahead,” he called over his shoulder. “Just beyond that tree line.” Wind swayed the limbs of the trees he pointed to, as if they were responding,
Aye, the creature was here.
“Listen to me,” Mr. Murdock cautioned, pulling the group into a huddle. “We have to divide ourselves. Half of ye go that way, and the other half follow me.”
Most of the men grumbled in objection, but the rest did not hesitate to scramble toward the wooded area. Alaric and Ulric were in the group with Mr. Murdock, and all of the men were virtually sewn together, like patchwork on a quilt. Mr. Murdock noticed this and ordered the cluster of men to broaden their range. Alaric and Ulric spread out to the far right of where they were, away from the others but still close enough in case the creature appeared from the shadows.
“My apologies, brother,” said Alaric, though he did not glance at Ulric. They continued to traipse through the underbrush. Dead leaves and twigs crunched beneath their boots. “I had once thought ye mad, but since Daciana stepped forward and admitted the wolf was after her, too . . .”
Ulric snickered. “I see where thy loyalty lies—believing a woman over thy own blood. How typical of ye.” The acidic taste of betrayal lingered on his tongue, and Ulric wished to rid himself of the flavor.
“That is certainly not what I meant,” Alaric countered.
“Is it not?” Ulric refused to believe him. “Pray tell me what ye meant, then.”
Alaric would have explained his stance had he not been interrupted by shouts of men from just ahead. They were deep in the forest—so deep they could no longer see the edge of the trees behind them. Had they found the creature so easily? As Alaric and Ulric approached where the men gathered, a female voice overpowered the group of males.
“Damn her,” muttered Ulric. He had a gut feeling Daciana would keep her word, and that she did. He forcefully grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the crowd. “I shall see to it she arrives home safely,” he added over his shoulder as they marched off. A few men nodded, and others frowned at the spectacle of a woman on a hunt.
“Let go of me!” Daciana repeatedly shouted until they were out of sight.
Ulric summoned every ounce of poise, so he would not explode. “Hold thy tongue,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “I told ye not to come this night, yet ye consciously disobeyed. I am afraid thy father will hear about this.”
Daciana attempted to wiggle her arm loose from Ulric’s firm grip, but she had no luck. “Release me,” she said, “and I shall return home immediately.”
Ulric stopped and faced her. “Unfortunately for ye, I do not trust a single word from thy mouth, so I shall walk ye back to thy house, tell thy father what ye planned on doing, and make sure ye do not seek to join our hunt again.” He resumed a swift pace, with Daciana in tow.
“Please do not tell my father,” Daciana begged, still struggling. “If he finds out—”
“Enough!”
Ulric was not certain he took her in the proper direction. At this point, he was not sure of many things, such as his feelings for the young woman standing next to him, his brother’s perfidy regarding the wolf, or whether his future lay with the farmstead. He knew, however, that he needed to take Daciana home, for he still could not shake the dreadful feeling in his stomach.
At that juncture, a cry erupted from behind them. Ulric clasped Daciana’s arm even tighter, and they ran. More shouts and screams filled the bitter night air. Ulric pictured the wolf attacking the men one by one, leaving them to bleed out on the frosty earth.
“Quickly, Daciana!” Ulric whispered.
Both continually checked over their shoulders, though they were not sure they could prevent the creature from discovering them. Ulric thought it already knew their whereabouts, and after the wolf killed the hunting party, ’twould come after Ulric and Daciana. The notion no more left Ulric’s head when, out of the darkness, Alaric sideswiped them. Daciana screeched, hastily covering her mouth.
“Do not stop!” Alaric said. The three of them picked up speed as they tackled shrubbery and dodged low-hanging limbs. “I suspect the whole lot is dead by now, but if ’tis truly after ye, ’twill not end this until both of ye join what is left of those men.”
Ire rose in Ulric’s throat. He opened his mouth to respond, but was knocked down. His hand left Daciana’s, and the trees, the ground, even the moon, became a blur. When he was able to focus again, white fangs and golden eyes loomed over him. His breath hitched, his eyes widened. He wanted to scream, but ’twould not prevent harm.
Gathering his wits, Ulric found his voice. “What do ye want from me?”
The wolf’s mouth peeled back as it snarled. As sudden as lightning, it bit into Ulric’s neck. Ulric cried out in pain and attempted to push it away, but the creature was too powerful for him. Daciana screamed, Alaric was horrified, and when, at last, the wolf was done sinking its teeth into Ulric, it did the same to Daciana. Though Ulric’s vision was in and out of focus, he saw his dear Daciana lying still on the forest floor mere seconds after the wolf was finished with her. He saw Alaric’s tear-filled eyes as they aligned with the wolf’s, and watched the wolf back away and dart off in the opposite direction, not touching Alaric.
Once Alaric shook off his initial fright, he jumped to action. Kneeling beside Ulric, he said, “I will find help, brother. I shall return.” He sprang upward and bolted through the trees.
When Ulric finally awoke, he was lying atop a wooden table. He wanted to sit up, but a hand gently rested on his chest and pressed him backward. Ulric complied without quarrel. His mouth was wholly parched, so he licked his lips and moved his tongue all around, wetting the areas that needed it the most.
“Daciana . . . where is she? Alive?” Ulric rasped.
“Easy, brother,” said Alaric, who placed a calm hand on Ulric’s shoulder. “She is in the same shape as ye.”
Ulric wanted to sit up, but he was in too much pain, so he opted to glance around with what minimal vision he had. The ceiling had wooden rafters, like most cottages in the area, and a heady smell inundated his senses. Where had Alaric taken them? Instead of asking too many questions, he focused on the scents and sounds, let them control his mind and body—soft
clop
,
clop
,
clopping
from someone’s shoes in another room, liquid bubbling and boiling in a kettle on the hearth, and the distinct aroma of grass, which reminded him of sitting in green fields during summertime, the sun warming his face.
This was winter, however, and he was not at home. The only additional homestead he knew of, which smelled differently from the rest, was the herb witch’s home. Everybody in town was quite apprehensive when speaking about Lavenia, and his brother was no exception. Last Ulric heard, Alaric had not been with her in over a year’s time. Aye, they were once lovers, but Alaric dove headfirst into his drinking games at Murdock’s and completely abandoned poor Lavenia. Nobody had seen much of her since—unless, of course, they stopped by her dwelling for a potion or special brew.
“We are at Lavenia’s,” Ulric murmured. ’Twas not an inquiry, for he knew.
“Aye,” Alaric confirmed. “I am afraid she is not yet here, though. Her apprentices are doing the best they can with what is in their possession.”
Ulric gripped Alaric’s latent hand. “Do not let us die, brother.”
Alaric leaned in and whispered, “I would not dream of such a thing, and neither would Lavenia, I imagine. As soon as she arrives, she will know what to do.”
But Lavenia did not arrive for nearly an hour, and Ulric and Daciana had weakened considerably. When Lavenia walked through the front door, her hair was tousled, her eyes feral, and her clothing was soiled. Alaric eyed Lavenia cautiously, like she was a child up to no good.
“What happened to ye?” he asked.
In a mindless fog, Lavenia scrutinized her form and looked to Alaric. “I was just out searching for herbs in the forest.” She pointed to Ulric and Daciana, lying atop two separate wooden tables, in separate rooms. The cottage was so tiny she could easily see both of them from the entrance. “Why are they here?”
“They have been bitten,” Alaric explained.
“Oh?”
“By a wolf. Fortunately, I was spared and able to get help; otherwise, we all would be lying dead in the forest.”
Lavenia glanced from Ulric to Daciana. “Fortunate, indeed.”
“Will ye help them?” Alaric held his breath, exhaling only when she replied, “Aye.”
Lavenia checked with her apprentices concerning what herbs and potions they created as healing aids. When she was satisfied the correct items were used, she resumed placing new bandages and balsam onto the wounds. Daciana was last to receive her treatment, and once she finished, Lavenia turned her attention to Alaric.