The Werewolves of Nottinghill

by J. J. Thompson

  The New Earth Chronicles: III

  The Werewolves of Nottinghill

  by

  J. J. Thompson

  Text Copyright © 2018 J. J. Thompson

  All Rights Reserved

  To old friends: gone but not forgotten.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Links and Stuff

  Chapter 1

  “I can't believe what just happened.”

  Malcolm Deschamps looked out from the battlements of Nottinghill Castle across the fields that lay beyond it. Just a few minutes before, the monstrous primal red dragon had stood there, wings extended in rage. Now there was only a smoking crater where the dragon had been. Not even a body remained in the aftermath of the attack by the paladin, Liliana Travnikov. She had heroically charged the monster all alone, like a mythic figure out of a fairy tale, and had somehow destroyed it. And, sadly, she had destroyed herself as well.

  “Did I see some sort of wolf or dog join Liliana just before she attacked the primal?”

  There was no answer, just the mournful sound of the wind swirling over the top of the castle's walls.

  “And how did she do that?” Malcolm asked in confusion. “How did she destroy the primal dragon so completely? There's nothing left of it!”

  “Divine intervention, obviously.”

  Malcolm looked at the armored figure standing next to him.

  Aiden Shen, his long-time friend and partner, was looking out at the destruction as well. His expressive face showed a mixture of pride and sorrow as he contemplated the aftermath of Liliana's sacrifice.

  “She was blessed by the lords of Light,” he continued soberly. “You know that, Mal. Katherine said so and she's a cleric, so she would know, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I just never expected to see such a display of divine power. It was... I don't know. Awe-inspiring, I guess. But did they have to take Liliana's life in exchange for their aid? That's cold, Aiden. It demonstrates just how far those gods of hers are willing to go, don't you think?”

  Aiden didn't answer. He took off one of his gloves and wearily pushed back his long hair. His Korean ancestors had blessed him with a mane of black hair so thick that it barely moved in the wind whistling across the battlements. Malcolm had always been a little envious of it.

  He'd always kept his own long hair tightly braided so that he was able to push it off of his face easily. It also fit better under a helmet when he went into battle.

  'Imagine,' he thought as he stared at the devastation in the distance. 'Here I stand, once just a regular guy raised in a small town who expected to live a dull, do-nothing life, and now the leader of the guardsmen of Nottinghill Castle. And yet I still couldn't do anything to help Liliana against that damned dragon. It took an act of divine intervention and her own sacrifice to save us. Puts things into perspective, I suppose.'

  “What could I have done to save her?” he mused as he gripped the helmet in his hands so tightly that it creaked in protest.

  “Stop it, Mal,” Aiden said sharply. “I know what you're doing. What you always do. You're blaming yourself. And you can't, not this time. Liliana made a choice. She made it knowing that she was going to die. And she made it for us, all of us here in Nottinghill. We have to honor that.”

  He reached over and pulled the helmet out of Malcolm's hands.

  “And stop squeezing this before you flatten it. You seemed to forget sometimes that you're not that skinny kid you once were back in the old days.”

  Malcolm looked at him in surprise. He hadn't even realized that he was crushing the helmet.

  “Oh, right. Sorry. The blacksmith would chew me out again if I came back with another piece of broken equipment, wouldn't he?”

  Aiden grinned at him.

  “Yes, he would.”

  “We should have some sort of memorial, once everything returns to normal again.”

  The men turned to look at Tamara, who was standing with her brother, Sebastian. Her heavy robe was swirling gently in the breeze and she was looking past Malcolm and Aiden at the distant crater.

  “How can we have a memorial?” Malcolm asked her. “As much as I think it's well deserved, didn't we just agree that we'd tell the people that Liliana might still be alive and off doing the gods' work? To inspire them after such a devastating loss?”

  Tamara glanced at him and the big man's breath caught in his throat as he saw the look of grief in her eyes.

  “But she should have a memorial irregardless of that, don't you think?”

  Sebastian put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently.

  “I think it's appropriate, sis. Malcolm? Aiden?”

  “Absolutely,” Aiden told him. “We agree.”

  Malcolm sighed loudly and nodded as he looked out across the field again.

  “Good,” Sebastian said with some relief. “For now, I think that everyone needs to take some time to rest and absorb the events of today.”

  “Aiden and I will speak to the guards, make sure that they remain alert and focused,” Malcolm told him. “The primal red dragon and his brood might be dead, but that doesn't change the fact that the world is still a very dangerous place.”

  Tamara shrugged off her brother's arm, gave him a quick smile and looked at the two warriors.

  “Good. I'll schedule a meeting with all of the leaders in a day or two, after everyone's had a chance to settle down a bit. We'll talk to both of you then.”

  She walked off with Sebastian, and Malcolm and Aiden watched them leave.

  “She's torn up about what happened to Liliana,” Aiden observed.

  “We all are. Okay, do you want to speak with the guards up here?” Malcolm asked. “I'll head down and touch base with the squad manning the gate and then drop by the barracks and see how those who are off duty are feeling.”

  “Will do. And Mal...”

  Malcolm had begun to turn away and stopped to look back at Aiden.

  “Hmm?”

  “Don't brood about it too much. Liliana did exactly what she wanted to do. She gave her life to save all of us. There was nothing you could have done to stop her.”

  The bigger man hesitated and then managed to force a smile.

  “I know,” he admitted softly. “But that doesn't make it hurt any less.”

  He headed for the steps that led down to the courtyard and Aiden let him go without comment. He knew that Malcolm would have to work through his grief in his own way.

  The entire population of Nottinghill Castle seemed to have observed Liliana's last moments, and most of them wanted to talk about it. Malcolm, Aiden and the other leaders found themselves listening to versions of the same story over and over again as the people tried to come to grips with what had happened. After only a few days had passed, Malcolm noticed that the paladin was already beginning to achieve a sort of legendary status. He approved.

  “Everyone needs a reason for optimism,” he told Aiden.

  They were speaking in the
ir quarters two days after Liliana had destroyed the primal red dragon. Both of them were off duty and were waiting to meet with Tamara and the others. They had been assigned a suite of rooms after the castle had been rebuilt, which included a bedroom, study, living room and washroom. Malcolm still didn't understand how the mages managed to make plumbing operate magically, but there was a working shower and sink in the bathroom and he was extremely grateful for that.

  Aiden was sitting in the study by a window, frowning down at the book he was reading. When Malcolm walked in and made his comment, he looked up and smiled at him.

  “Yes, I've noticed how everybody seems to be speaking about Liliana as if they'd known her personally,” he told Malcolm. “It's strange, isn't it? I keep hearing 'I remember the paladin said this' or 'Liliana once told me that'. Knowing her the way that we did, and how private a person she was, there's no way that she spoke to everyone living in the castle. It's as if they all want to feel like they've touched a legend. People are strange, aren't they?”

  Malcolm sat down on a heavy sofa that was set against one wall. The sturdy couch groaned under his weight as he settled into it.

  “They all need something to aspire to, I guess,” he said with a shrug. “Now that the dragons are back, people are scared, and rightfully so. For Liliana to have defeated the primal red, and in such a spectacular way, gives them hope. I was actually asked by several people if I knew where she'd gone.” He shook his head sadly. “Tamara's idea about not acknowledging her death seems to be working.”

  Aiden closed his book and stared down blankly at its faded leather cover. He didn't reply for a moment and Malcolm wondered what he was thinking. Out of his armor and dressed simply in a white tunic and brown pants, with his hair falling over his face, Aiden looked a lot younger than he was. But he could always hide his true feelings when he wanted to and even Malcolm, who knew his partner better than anyone else alive, couldn't guess what lay behind that inscrutable expression.

  “So what are you thinking, kid?” Malcolm asked as the silence stretched on for an uncomfortably long time.

  Aiden smiled. Malcolm only called him kid in private. They were the same age, but the big man has always seemed older somehow.

  “Thinking?”

  Aiden surged to his feet and walked over the large bookcase. He slipped the old tome into it and then moved back to the window and stared outside. He folded his arms and stood motionless with his back to Malcolm.

  “I'm thinking that I don't like lying to the people living here,” he said quietly. “Liliana is dead, Mal. You know it, I know it and Tamara knows it. And now we're turning her selfless act into propaganda. It's not right.”

  Malcolm felt a wave of sympathy for his partner. He knew how sensitive Aiden was to the feelings of others and completely understood where he was coming from.

  “So, do you want to come clean and admit the truth? Just tell them all that she died?” he asked.

  Aiden turned around and looked at him quizzically.

  “You'd do that?”

  “Of course I would. I hate lying as much as you do. God knows that we did enough of that when we were kids living in Renfrew.”

  Aiden smiled suddenly at the reference.

  “Yeah, we did, didn't we? That was a bad time.”

  “It was. But remember this,” Malcolm cautioned him. “We are facing an uncertain future, more so now that the dragons are back, and the people need something to inspire them. And in this situation, telling a lie might be the right thing to do. Is it? You tell me.”

  “I...”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Yes?”

  One of the castle's staff opened the door and stuck her head in.

  “Sorry to bother you, but Tamara asked me to tell you that the meeting is about to start.”

  “Thanks, Lisa,” Malcolm said with a smile. “We'll be right there.”

  The woman nodded and disappeared, closing the door again.

  “We can discuss this with the others if you want to,” the big man said as he stood up.

  Like his partner, Malcolm was wearing a simple tunic and trousers. The only difference was that his tunic was blue instead of white. Both of them wore leather belts with sheathed daggers hanging from them. Even off duty, neither man was willing to walk around completely unarmed.

  “No, I won't stir the pot,” Aiden said with a resigned sigh. “I know why we're lying to them. Just because I don't like it doesn't mean that I disagree with the reason for it. And Liliana was a warrior blessed by the gods, after all. Who knows? Maybe she was called away to serve them elsewhere. In this crazy world of ours, anything is possible.”

  The main hall where the castle's leaders met regularly looked more like a library than a place of business. The walls were lined with bookshelves stuffed with old books and a long, oaken conference table stood in the center of the room. A massive fireplace was built into one wall and a fire burned in it almost all of the time. The castle was cool and damp even in the middle of the summer.

  There were high windows made of ornate stained glass above the bookshelves that allowed sunlight to beam into the room. Two of the castle's residents who were artisans had created the windows and filled them with scenes of rolling hills and beautiful forests. One of the windows, which was Malcolm's favorite, showed a battle between a group of warriors and a winged beast. He thought that it looked like a dragon, while Aiden constantly referred to it as a flying chicken. Malcolm was sure that he just said that to tease him. Sometimes it worked.

  As the pair entered the hall, Aiden glanced up at the glowing windows and nudged Malcolm.

  “Your flying chicken looks lovely today,” he whispered with a grin.

  Malcolm ignored the comment and Aiden snickered.

  The other leaders were already gathered together. Tamara sat at the head of the table with Sebastian on her right. The sister mages, Sylvie and Veronique, sat further down the table, both of them speaking to each other quietly. Chao Zhang, a diminutive young Chinese man, sat alone, staring reflectively at the fireplace.

  “Hello, boys.”

  Malcolm and Aiden turned around and smiled at Katherine Hastings, the castle's senior cleric. An older woman, Katherine always looked like she was on the verge of exhaustion. Her thin, blonde hair and pale complexion combined with her large blue eyes made the woman appear frail, but the warriors knew that that was an illusion. The cleric was much stronger than she looked.

  For a change, Katherine wasn't wearing the white jacket and black slacks of her calling. Instead, she was actually wearing a simple, sleeveless blue dress that hung down to her knees. It made her look a lot different.

  “Wow,” Malcolm exclaimed with a wide grin. “Look at you. Heading for the prom?”

  The cleric laughed at the comment as Aiden frowned and poked the big man in the ribs.

  “It's okay, Aiden,” Katherine said as she joined them. “I'll take that as a compliment. We didn't have prom here in Britain, back before the world burned down, but the idea makes me feel young again.”

  “It was a compliment,” Malcolm said as he rubbed his side and scowled at Aiden. “You should stop taking everything I say out of context.”

  “You have a habit of speaking first and thinking later,” the smaller man told him unapologetically. “I was just reminding you of that.”

  Malcolm glared at him for another moment and then shrugged.

  “Fine. But quit digging into my ribs. They're tender. So, Katherine, what's the word? How are the people you care for dealing with what happened to Liliana?”

  The three of them found seats at the table and sat down. The cleric sat down next to Chao, who nodded at her politely, and the warriors sat down on her other side, Aiden closest to her. They all greeted the others around the table warmly and then continued their conversation.

  “About how you might expect,” the cleric told them. “There is a lot of grief, of course. Liliana might not have been a very outgoing person,
but she was almost universally admired. Her death has hit them hard.”

  “It's hit all of us hard,” Aiden said soberly.

  “I know that. But at least we knew her as a friend. Those who didn't mostly saw her from a distance. And now that distance has allowed them to begin turning her into a legend. Frankly, I'm amazed at how quickly it's happening.”

  She traced a design on the table top with her forefinger, her expression pensive.

  “I don't think that Liliana would have approved,” she added.

  Malcolm and Aiden exchanged glances.

  “Knowing her, you're probably right,” Aiden agreed. “But as Malcolm reminded me a little while ago, this really isn't about Liliana, is it? It's a way to give the populace hope going forward. For what it's worth though, I think that our late friend would have at least understood our reasons for turning her death into a PR stunt.”

  Malcolm winced.

  “That's a bit harsh, isn't it?” he asked.

  “Yes, but it's true. Let's not sugarcoat it, Mal. Making Liliana larger than life now that she's gone is cynical and manipulative. But if it gives people a reason to go on despite the dragons being back, then that's what's most important. Like I told you, I'll play my part but I don't have to like it.”

  Katherine stared at the warriors and smiled a bit.

  “Trouble in paradise, boys?” she asked, teasing them gently. “Is my favorite couple having issues?”

  Both of the men looked surprised at the question.

  “Issues?” Aiden repeated blankly.

  “We've never had issues,” Malcolm stated firmly. “We may disagree occasionally on some stuff, but we work it out. After what we went through together back in our home town, no disagreement could ever come between us for long.”

  The cleric laughed and patted Aiden's hand.

  “I'm just joking, my friends,” she told them both. “Was it really that tough, growing up in a small town? You've both mentioned the place a few times, but I'm afraid that I don't know much about that kind of life. I grew up in Manchester, you see, so I wouldn't really know. I think that there were about two million people living there before the dragons attacked and practically leveled it. That was a truly horrible time. I'm guessing that a small town would have been hit even harder.”