In the beginning it was exciting, and she loved her new freedom. She scouted every step of land within her jurisdiction. It wasn’t often she met the other rangers who patrolled the land on three sides of her—with the fourth adjacent to Morgan’s homestead—but when she did, they would share a camp on the border of their territories for a night and exchange old news—it was rare to have any new—then spend the rest of the evening talking about family, friends, lovers or what they would do in the future. The latter was mostly a question asked of her, as the others planned on continuing their lives as rangers. She knew what her fate was to be when her time serving as a ranger was over. An unwanted marriage and all it brought with it, so talking of plans seemed futile.
Time passed, and she knew her patrol areas so well she became lonely and bored. She missed her sisters dearly, but the wood kept her company. The trees and creatures who lived there didn’t judge her with every look, like the fools at court did. She was the youngest princess, not deserving of their costly respect. Her oldest sister was being groomed to be queen. Her middle sister would marry a powerful noble. Alexis would simply become the wife of a son to a minor lord. Unless she could get out of it, and she didn’t know how she would. But if she did, she would stay right here—or somewhere like it—for the rest of her days, creator willing.
Her post gave her much time to think about the things that troubled her. How does a child with no choice in the matter of her birth get blamed for the lack of a male heir being produced? How was she any less fit to be a queen than her older sister? She hated everything about all of it, but knew better than to question tradition. Her anger flared for the second time that evening. She was done pondering things she could do nothing about. She would bathe, then sleep.
Walking to her favorite tree, where she watched the human family from the shadows, she hoped to see Morgan back outside. Why, she didn’t know. Their one and only conversation had been rude and scheming, yet underneath it was a prank. He was not there, so she walked back into the wood toward the small pool where she washed. She stopped automatically, without even thinking, at the edge of the small pool that had been growing over the weeks. The slow rain had left the forest damp, fresh and more alive now in the dark than in the light of day.
She focused her hearing on the homestead and heard nothing but common night sounds. So she sat down, pinned her hair up and pulled off her doeskin boots and wool cloak. Her wool socks, leather pants, a leather jerkin and linen shirt were all removed and folded, then laid neatly on damp leaves. The air was cooler now and the water cold. Her flesh was covered in chill bumps. Wetting a rag, she washed her face, neck and breasts. She ignored her erect nipples. There was no time for pleasure; there would be no chance that her thoughts might drift to Morgan if she washed quickly and returned to the warmth of the fire to sleep.
Be still, child, and close your eyes, the voice whispered.
She stood slowly, turning her head in all directions, trying to remain calm.
Step into the pool, it said. She didn’t feel threatened, but the power to speak directly to her thoughts scared her.
She obeyed. What else could she do, standing naked to the world? Angering someone with such power was not wise. The water began to swirl around her legs, climbing higher, reaching her hips. It spun faster and faster. She held her arms up just as the water reached her breasts and continued over her shoulders. She thought she would freeze solid where she stood. Quickly putting a hand over her mouth and nose and holding them closed, she was completely covered, but the water continued spiraling, pulling her hair free of its pins. Her hair thrashed as it danced in the swirling current, twisting into a rope. Just when she thought she would die for lack of air, the water fell, making one big splash into the pool.
Her wet hair fell with it and stuck to her body as she hurried out of the water. She took her larger drying rag and wiped away as much water as she could and pulled the linen shirt over her head. Her teeth chattered behind her lips. Hurrying, she dressed and ran back to her camp. Throwing what remaining firewood she had on the fire, she sat down to warm herself. Her body tingled, feeling like she had been scrubbed by a floor brush.
A figure walked silently into her camp carrying an armload of dry, split firewood. Alexis drew her dagger from under her cloak and backed away. It was a woman, tall and statuesque, and smiling at her. She kept her distance from the fire, throwing the pieces of wood on the ground next it.
“Put a few logs on the fire. You’ll warm up faster.” The stranger’s voice reminded Alexis of springtime. Her hair was green and her eyes were red with gold and silver centers. A long gown moved around her body like a living thing. Like the water that just scoured her body.
“Who are you that you can move through the wood without a sound, going unnoticed by an elven ranger?”
“It is not important now. Did you enjoy your bath?”
“It was terrifying. My body still tingles, but I feel so clean. Was that your doing?”
“Did you enjoy speaking with Morgan?”
“Again, was that your doing? He said she told him I was beautiful. Are you a goddess and, if so, which one? Why do you not answer me?”
“What do you think of him?”
“Why do you care? Besides, it is forbidden. Even if it wasn’t, he is too young, just barely a man.”
“Forbidden? Too young? I will think on these things and decide if they have merit.”
“Who are you? Why are you doing these things? What if I don’t want him? Because I don’t. I left my home because I had no say in the matter of who I would be betrothed to.”
“All good questions, and someday you shall have your answers. Goodnight, Princess Alexis.” She hadn’t heard her name spoken in many months.
“Wait!” Alexis yelled, but the woman had stepped into the dark and disappeared. “You stole their firewood.”
Alexis took hot coals from the fire and put them in the small fire pit under her lean-to. She lay down with every intention of getting up in a few minutes and retrieving more coals. She didn’t make it. She woke up later and pulled her blankets over her. The fire had burned down into a perfect mound of flaming embers. She drifted back to sleep thinking of the tall woman. Who—or what—was she?
Two
Morgan’s father and brothers were leaving early the next morning. He arose to see them off before sunup. His sandy blond hair stood up on one side of his head and his blue eyes were still half closed. He suffered from just waking and mumbled greetings to his brothers. Jordi and Mikkel waited in the wagon for their father to say goodbye to their mother. Now that it was warming during the day, the pass should be open enough they could get through to the land they worked. They would stay in camp for at least a week—maybe longer—while they put at least three lumber wagon loads together. The camp wagon was loaded with supplies and tools, enough to carry them through with extra in case of an extended stay.
Morgan stood holding the reins to his father’s horse. He was taller than Jordi but didn’t have his bulky, broad shoulders or arms like tree trunks. Jordi was short and thick, and his reddish hair with hazel eyes further proved Jordi was of his mother’s people. Mikkel was built like their father, brown hair and blue eyes, tall and lanky, with corded muscles in his shoulders and arms. None of the men would ever be accused of being too thin or weak. Morgan was in between and going to have the best of both his parents’ lineage. It wasn’t lost on any of the family that Morgan hadn’t reached the age where his growth would slow.
Yesterday morning, his father informed Morgan that he wouldn’t be going with them even though he had already promised that this would be Morgan’s year to go. He wasn’t sure why his father had a sudden change of heart, but he did his best to accept it like a man. Of course, that was how he felt now, after his fit of temper and before going again to see the elf watching their home from the woods. Knowing he was going to try to see her again helped soften the blow of staying behind. His father hugged his mother and sister, then turn
ed to take the reins. Handing them to him, Morgan was surprised his father didn’t immediately mount.
“Walk with me, Morgan. I need to speak with you before we leave.”
“Of course, Father,” he answered, falling into step beside him. Seeing their father walking with him, his brothers got the mule team moving and went on ahead with the wagon.
“I know you are disappointed,” his father began.
“It’s ok, Father. I know you have your reasons.”
“I do, and if you will let me get a word in, I’ll tell you. Now don’t interrupt.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Son, I didn’t tell you this yesterday because I didn’t want to chance your mother and sister hearing. There have been reports of raids on the smaller towns. Most were too far out for the king’s cavalry patrols to reach before lives and property were destroyed. By the looks of the weapons that were left behind, it is goblin raiding parties.”
“The goblins have been quiet for hundreds of summers.”
“No, they just have not been this aggressive. Every summer, a handful of farmers would be raided and livestock stolen, but there was rarely a death. Something has changed. They are attacking and killing anyone they find, then taking anything they can cart off.”
“Why doesn’t the king have soldiers and cavalry out patrolling, looking for them?”
“He does, but there are rumors they are hiding on elven land. They have been tracked to the border of the elven wood. Rumors are flying that the elves are working with the goblins, but I say that is horseshit. I think that they used the elven land to escape pursuit is all.”
“I agree with you, Father. The elves wouldn’t want to help the goblins with anything like that. It would go against their honor.”
His father eyeballed him but didn’t ask. “Now you should understand why I am leaving you behind. They probably won’t waste time with a single settlement like ours that has no herds or large crops, but I wouldn’t rule it out if they stumbled upon us in passing. There is a sword, quiver and bow in the barn. You have your staff you’ve been working with, too. Get all of them into your room tonight.”
“Yes, Father. And I will bring my axe in and leave it by the front door.”
“Of course. That would be better than a sword in your hands right now since you have no weapons training. If you get a chance, practice swinging the sword in the barn. Practice till it feels like it’s as comfortable to swing as that axe of yours.” Morgan’s father let go of the reins and gripped both of his shoulders. “You will be fine, Son. Just be wary and keep the weapons ready. We will be back before you know it.”
With that bit of bleak news finished, his father mounted and kicked the horse’s flanks, urging it into a gallop to catch the wagon. Morgan glanced at the part of woods where he had spoken with the elf last night. He would try to talk to her to see if she was aware of the situation.
“Morgan, come in and I’ll make you some breakfast,” Mother called out the window. Cutting wood or killing goblins—nothing would foul Mother’s routine. They would get their breakfast even if a troll was trying to rip the roof off.
“Coming.” He wondered if the ranger was still mad. More than likely she was. Maybe he would send Gabby with a peace offering. She wouldn’t shoot Gabby.
It only took Mom a few minutes to make the eggs. She had made breakfast for Dad and his brothers first so they could eat and be on their way, but hadn’t let them eat up all the bread and meat she had prepared. Much to their disappointment. Morgan took some warm bread and buttered it, then spread jam on it. Laying it on a clean towel, he placed the eggs and meat beside the bread and pulled the corners of the towel together, tying them. His sister watched him with interest but didn’t say anything.
“Gabby, I need you to do me a favor. Are you done eating?”
“What kind of favor? What are you up to, Morgan?”
“I need you to take this to the edge of the wood, lay it on the ground, and say, ‘My brother sent this for you. He would like to talk to you about something important. If you’re willing, stick an arrow in the ground as a sign.’”
“Morgan, I asked you what you are up to. Mom might get mad.”
“I’ll tell you when you get back. Fair?”
“Fair enough.” Gabby said, exasperated, like she hated Morgan having a secret. He knew she would do it though. There was too much mystery for her not to.
“Come to the window. I’ll show you where to go.” Gabby followed him and he pointed at the wood line straight across from his chopping block. “Anywhere around there should be fine.”
*****
Gabby opened the door and looked around for her mom. When she didn’t see her, she shut the door quietly and began walking at the fastest pace she could without running. She held her dress up with one hand and clutched the package with the other. Whatever Morgan was up to, she didn’t want to go running at something that might be watching her from the woods. She came to a stop at the edge of the wood he had pointed out. It took her a second to catch her breath. She could see nothing and started to feel foolish, wondering if he was pulling a prank on her. The thought quickly faded. Morgan loved to eat. He would never give up his breakfast as a prank. She steadied herself and spoke.
“My brother asked me to bring this to you. He would also like to speak with you about something important. I don’t know what that could be because he isn’t involved in anything important other than chopping firewood.” Oops, that was a little more than he asked. “I will set it here on the ground and be on my way. If you will give him an audience, I’m sure it would be most appreciated. He would never give me his breakfast so whoever you are, you have to be important.” Oh, I did it again. “He said to stick an arrow in the ground if you agree.” She had turned to leave when she heard someone speak.
“Your name is Gabriella, is it not?” Gabby wasn’t sure where the voice came from. She squinted, but still couldn’t see anyone.
“Did Morgan tell you?”
“I’ve heard your mother call for you. What is Morgan doing? Trying to poison me?”
“Oh goodness no, why would you say such a thing? Morgan would never hurt someone unless they tried to hurt him or us.” Gabby was still looking straight ahead when a body dropped from the sky and landed in front of her. The face sat deep within the hood and she couldn’t make out the features. She took a step back and saw the green cloak went down past the knees. There was a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other.
Gabby knew the minute she laid eyes on the cloak it belonged to a ranger. In one swift movement, the elf put the arrow in the quiver on its back then reached up and pulled the hood back. Gabby gasped. “Oh my, you’re beautiful.”
“Did Morgan tell you to say that?” the elf asked. Her tone wore a hint of anger, but her eyes were interested in the answer.
“No, no, don’t be angry with him. Those were my words.”
“Thank you, Gabriella, I apologize. Your brother should take lessons from you. Have you never seen an elf before?”
Gabby beamed at the praise. Her smile made the elf smile. “Here, this is for you. I don’t know what happened, but he wants to talk to you if you’ll let him.” Alexis accepted the package and held it up to her nose. “It’s just two eggs, some meat, and bread with butter and jam. The only elf I have ever seen was a male. He was handsome, but he never smiled.”
“Gabriella, I will think about his request, but do not tell him. If I decide, the arrow will be here in this spot. I want to let him think on matters of our first meeting before I agree to another.”
“Thank you.”
Gabby hurried back to the house and saw Morgan standing in the window. He had been watching the whole time, but she was sure he didn’t hear a thing. She went inside, but he kept watching the spot where she had stood with the elf.
“What did she say?”
“She didn’t. She heard your request, so I would suggest doing your chores. If you see an arrow in the ground, get over t
here.”
“Thanks, Gabby.”
“She’s an elf, not some pretty girl from town. Watch yourself. She was pleasant enough with me, but she might not understand if you make advances toward her.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, but what I need to talk to her about isn’t courting. It is something Father spoke to me about before they left. Besides, I think you have chores to be doing yourself.”
*****
Morgan picked up his axe, set it on his shoulder, then stepped through the open window into his wood chopping area on the side of the house and began to work. The wood he had chopped yesterday evening was stacked neatly with the rest, but he knew he had left it haphazardly on the ground.
Part of Morgan’s duty was to know what was going to be sold as building material and what was going to be cut up for firewood and sold or kept as needed. He spent the rest of the morning working with the mule, rope, block and tackle moving and lifting logs. It was harder work than splitting and stacking it. He couldn’t work for three minutes without a glance to the edge of the wood. The midday sun sent the temperature to its highest point of the day. His sweat-logged shirt clung to his body by the time he called it quits for the midday meal.
He went to the well and lowered the bucket, bringing it up brimming with ice-cold water from deep in the earth. He pulled the ladle off the hook and was just about to dip it in the bucket when a face appeared within it. It was her—the woman who appeared in his dreams.
The Wood Cutter's Son Page 2