Wendigo Wars (6 page)

“Sometimes love just finds you Tilly and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Seb sounded wistful as he spoke and Mathilde couldn’t tell whether he was looking at her or not. “When that happens you don’t have to make time for it; it’s just there, it’s that simple.”

“I don’t know much about love Seb but I have a feeling it’s anything but simple.” Mathilde wasn’t even in a relationship and already the threat of one seemed complicated and stressful enough to put her off for a lifetime.

Seb sighed and Mathilde risked a glance at him while he leaned forwards and knelt to stoke the fire. “I think the hare is ready,” he said in a voice which was less happily Seb than usual. Staring at his wide, muscled back Mathilde felt the urge to lean forwards and smooth away the soft blond hairs stuck under his collar but she resisted it. A meaningless, friendly move just a few days ago could now lead onto something far more and Mathilde wasn’t sure that was what she wanted.

“You will meet Violette soon,” said Mathilde in an attempt to get back to safe ground in the conversation.

“Yeah,” said Seb sitting back on his chair and smiling warmly, the hare now cooling on the hearth. “Is she like you?”

Mathilde laughed. “No, nothing like me at all!”

Seb raised his eyebrows and looked bemused. “She can’t be that different. You’re triplets!”

“Sometimes I wonder if we even came from the same family. There is a family resemblance I suppose. We have the same coloured hair and eyes. Apart from that though we couldn’t be more different. Violette is more...womanly I guess, and more confident. You’ll like her; she‘s a lot like Amelie. You might like her even more than you like me.” 

Mathilde smiled casually to show that she was trying to joke but in her mind she hoped for a second that Seb would like Violette in a romantic way then they could get back to being normal. Seb smiled at Mathilde and shook his head, “I don’t think so Tilly. I’m sure I will like her though. She’s your sister after all.”

Mathilde rolled her eyes but smiled, as Seb split the meat from the now cooled hare between them and started to eat. Chat soon turned into joking, fuelled by full, warm stomachs and Mathilde started to get sleepy as her face was heated by the fire. Soon the hiss, crackle of the flames was all that she could hear and, though she wasn’t inspired to try, she was unable to move her arms or legs at all.

Mathilde woke with a start. She felt that she had only been asleep for minutes but the fire was now little more than a sputtering pile of embers and Seb was snoring heavily in the chair opposite her. Stretching out the aches in her shoulders and neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position she wondered if the cold was what had woken her but seconds later she heard the panicked whinny of the horses and she shot to her feet.

“Seb,” she hissed, “wake up.”

Seb stirred inelegantly and opened his eyes.”Humph?” he grunted, the last threads of the dream world clouding his consciousness.

“The horses...there’s something wrong.”

Moments later Seb was on his feet, now wide awake and clutching his sword. They had left the horses in a broken down old house opposite the cottage they were staying in but there had been no door on the house, no way to keep wendigo out. Again the whinny came, more frantic this time, and accompanied by a howl. Within seconds Seb and Mathilde were prising the boards off the door to get out. In less than five minutes they were out of the door, weapons in hand, and running towards the other house. The noise of the horse’s hooves clattering and stamping echoed around the house as they reached it and, running inside, they had to skirt around the edges of the walls to avoid being trampled. A white shape flashed past Mathilde and shot out of the door. Mathilde and Seb ran after it and Mathilde shot her crossbow in the general direction it had run as she moved. Once out of the house Mathilde and Seb froze as they each scanned the landscape. The moon was full and glinted off the snow making it shimmer but the intruder was nowhere to be seen.

“Do you think it was a wendigo?” said Mathilde in a whisper.

“No...look,” said Seb pointing to a flash of scarlet in the snow about two metres away. They both knew that wendigo blood would have frozen on the snow instantly. “This blood is warm- see the snow is melting under it.” Seb walked to the blood and knelt down to check the footprints beside it. “A wolf that’s all.”

“Great. Ok then, let’s settle the horses and get back inside,” said Mathilde still looking around just in case.

Once they had calmed the horses down and set small fires outside of the house door, just in case, Seb and Mathilde went back into the cottage. Though they decided to sleep in shifts neither of them slept for more than a few minutes after that and at first light they finished the hare meat then set off. There was little chat between them for the rest of the day, both more wary and vigilant than before and both less confident of their survival than they had been twenty four hours ago.

Chapter Seven

Despite their misgivings and nerves no further surprises came during the next four days of travel. By the time Seb and Mathilde reached the outskirts of Bucharest their mood was one both of relief to have survived the journey and of a sudden uncertainty about their ability to battle a co-ordinated pack of wendigo, such as General Zhu seemed to have formed. The journey had been made worse for Mathilde by the silence and the chance to think. Since they had left Suceava she had not been able to get Amelie’s words out of her head. Every time she caught Seb looking at her the intentions behind the looks now confused Mathilde.

Mathilde mentally cursed Amelie once again for making something previously simple and predictable into something unknown and uncomfortable. She fought to believe that Amelie was wrong but now that she had started paying attention she knew that she wasn’t. She wasn’t convinced that Seb was in love with her, as Amelie had said, but she could now see that he thought of her as more than just a friend.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Seb said, breaking into Mathilde’s thoughts. Mathilde looked around and noticed that, now well within the Bucharest borders, there were a lot of high, deserted buildings creating great hiding places for wendigo. They slowed their horses to a walk but stayed mounted to retain a good vantage point.

“So which way do we go?” asked Seb, looking around at the streets and buildings which didn’t offer many clues.

“I guess we just wander around a while until we find it. It can’t be hard to find. The settlement is the old Cantacuzino Palace. It must be pretty big,” said Mathilde, trying to cover all of the black empty windows as they moved, looking for signs of attack.

The clip clopping of the horses echoed against the grey, dirty, buildings; the snow here compressed into hard ice. Every now and then a flash of movement startled the travellers but each time it proved to be a bird or animal; no threat to them. Finally they rounded a corner and saw their destination. Cantacuzino Palace, stood in front of them. Large and white it was surrounded by a much more recent looking high stone wall surrounded with the obligatory moat filled with small fires. Outside of the drawbridge, which lowered almost as soon as the palace came into view, stood two huge white stone lions – a leftover from the Palace’s more peaceful days over a century ago?

As they rode over the drawbridge the welcoming sight of Violette came into view. She rushed towards them; a huge smile on her face and big skirts swishing around her ankles as her many necklaces and bangles glinted in the ice sun. Mathilde jumped off her horse and let herself be bundled into a hug.

“Tilly, at last. Look at you, you need fattening up, and you look tired, and cold. Come, come, get inside.” Violette fussed around Mathilde for a while and started to walk towards the Palace then stopped and turned around with a swish of her skirts.

“Oh Seb. I forgot, you’re Tilly’s Seb. It is so great to meet you,” Violette said as she rushed back and wrapped Seb in a hug which made him blush. Mathilde smiled at him apologetically as Violette bustled them both into the Palace.

Mathilde barely had time to look around as Violette hurried them to her rooms. She did glimpse cracked but ornately painted ceilings with faces and landscape hovering over their heads. As soon as they were in Violette’s rooms she cheerfully ushered a collection of small children, that Mathilde assumed she must look after in her role as Carer, out of the rooms. “Out, out children. Get some fresh air and be back for dinner,” she called as they left.

Once the children were gone the room fell silent all but for Violette’s humming as she went to the stove and produced two wonderfully smelling dishes of stew which she placed in front of Mathilde and Seb. They tucked in with grateful smiles and ate in silence while Violette busied around them and put their bags in a side room with two beds. It was only when they had finished eating and Violette had tidied their plates away and brought them hot cider that they settled down to small talk before quickly moving onto the mysterious General Zhu.

“So have you heard anything more from Zhu?” Seb asked Violette. Violette shook her head.

“Not a thing. I wish we had. It is really scaring people knowing that someone is out there and we don’t know what they are planning.”

“Well we can’t wait forever. What are your Protectorate like? Are they ready for battle if needs be?”

Violette chuckled. “Hardly,” she said. “We have always had livestock and supplies in excess so they rarely need to go outside of the walls. They mainly just act as lookouts and to be honest they mean well and Protector Superior Paul does what he can with them but the younger ones had never seen a wendigo before the attack and the older ones...well they are past their best. Most are in their late sixties.”

Mathilde sighed and exchanged a worried look with Seb. Seb grinned and clapped Mathilde on the back. “Well luckily Tilly can work wonders on the training ground,” he said, “so let’s go and see this sorry bunch.”

Seb bounded up and headed for the door. Mathilde and Violette followed behind and Mathilde chuckled as Seb suddenly had to pull up short, realising he had no idea where he was going. He turned with a sheepish grin and Violette moved to the front, leading them out of the building and towards the walls. When they reached the walls, a double wall with a wide platform running down the middle, Violette led them through a hole in the wall then up a staircase until they popped out onto the platform. They approached a tall man with salt and pepper hair and weather worn features. He smiled as they approached and his eyes wrinkled showing up years of laughter lines. Mathilde instantly liked him.

“Violette,” he said. “This must be your sister, the famous Mathilde, you look so alike!”

Mathilde lifted an eyebrow. As far as she could tell their likeness stopped at their eyes. “It’s lovely to meet you at last,” Mathilde said smiling and holding out a hand to shake. Paul bundled Mathilde up in a hug which took her by surprise.

“No handshaking here Mathilde, we are full of the joy of life. We find no better way to greet our guests than with a hug.”

Mathilde laughed in surprise but allowed the hug to wash over her and was amused to find that it did instantly cheer her mood and make her feel welcome. “I’m very eager to meet your Protectorate Paul,” said Mathilde smiling warmly.

“Ah but they are a good bunch,” said Paul, smiling back. “Perhaps a bit out of shape but they have good hearts and we saw to those attacking wendigo well enough.” Paul chortled and clapped Seb on the back. A look of bemusement crossed Seb’s face. “Meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes. I will gather the troops. Violette, hold the fort.”  Paul called over his shoulder as he made his way towards the stairs.

“Violette, will you be ok?” asked Mathilde, surprised at how casually the Bucharest inhabitants seemed to treat their security.

“Sure. You worry too much Tilly,” Violette said as she shoed Mathilde and Seb towards the stairs.

Ten minutes later Mathilde and Seb stood in the courtyard and exchanged disbelieving looks as they stared at the gathered gaggle of skinny, nervous teenagers and middle aged men with barrel-like stomachs.

“Looks like we have our work cut out for us,” muttered Seb.

“Hmmm,” agreed Mathilde, wondering whether it would be the wendigo or the Bucharest Protectorate that ended up being the biggest challenge.

Chapter Eight

“Quick, the gates!” the lookout shouted, rousing most of the tribe from their slumber.

Despite it being past midnight the settlement, which had been tranquil only moments before, was suddenly a hive of activity. By the time Mathilde and Violette arrived at the perimeter gates the drawbridge was being hauled back up into place and a body was being carried into the castle by two of the younger members of the Protectorate. The sisters caught a glimpse of the body and saw that it was a man and he looked close to death. In the past week since arriving at the settlement this was the first time that Mathilde had seen anyone move faster than a snail’s pace.

Once inside the man was carried to the fireside and laid on a small wood framed bed which had been brought from one of the dormitories. The people who were awake, which Mathilde noticed was now pretty much everyone, jostled to look at the man.

“Move back people. Go back to your beds and leave him with me” said Violette.

Being a reasonably good spirit worker and the Carer Superior, Violette was the most experienced healer in the Bucharest community and no-one questioned her taking authority over the situation. The crowd thinned as everyone went back to their beds with just a few lingerers. Eventually even they drifted off leaving just Violette to care for the man with Mathilde as protection if it was needed.

“Is he going to be ok?”asked Mathilde as she watched Violette work at cleaning the man’s many wounds and periodically checking his pulse and breathing.

The man was interesting looking. Not classically handsome or beautiful but his face had an intriguing mix of youth and rugged worldliness which made Mathilde both curious and wary. Though he was lying down she could see that he was taller than her but shorter than Seb, maybe six foot tall, give or take an inch. He was slender but clearly had some muscles under his swathes of torn black clothing. His black, ankle length cape was already shredded so Violette used it to bandage his wounds.