The Werewolves of Nottinghill

by J. J. Thompson

  He noticed that the two guards on duty at the gate were standing face to face, chatting away in the sunshine. Their chain-mail armor looked neat and well-maintained but they were holding their helmets in their hands, probably because of the day's heat. And they had left their pikes leaning against the wall next to the gate.

  Malcolm growled under his breath and swung open the window.

  “Hey, you two!” he bellowed.

  Both of the guardsmen jumped and spun around to look up at him. One of them dropped his helmet.

  “Shape up!” Malcolm shouted angrily. “You're on guard duty, not at a goddamned picnic! Try to look like professionals.”

  The pair, both young men, almost fell over themselves as they hurried to grab their pikes. Malcolm rolled his eyes as one of them swung the long weapon around and almost decapitated his partner.

  “Oh, for...” Malcolm muttered.

  “What's the problem?” Aiden asked as he joined him at the window. “Who the hell are you shouting at?”

  “Those two. Look at them. Gods, I thought that we had trained them better than that.”

  They watched as the two men finally got themselves organized and moved to stand on either side of the gate, helmets back on their heads and pikes held properly in front of them. Even from a distance, Aiden could see that the men were now sweating profusely.

  “We did. And they're fine. Relax, Mal. Don't take your temper out on others.”

  Malcolm watched in disbelief as Aiden returned to the closet and started sorting through the clothes again.

  “My temper? What are you talking about? I'm fine. Those two idiots were chatting away like they were at a school outing, instead of on duty.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, you're starting to climb the walls. Look, if you want to make sure that all of the guards on duty are doing their jobs, get out there and do the rounds. It'll give you something to do and take your mind off of Chao. I'll find you once I speak with him and we can go from there.”

  Malcolm thought about it for a moment and then nodded slowly.

  “That's actually not a bad idea. I just hope that we don't have to constantly babysit all these new guardsmen. We only get one day off a week. Surely they can do their jobs properly without us being around all the time? You never see the veterans acting like that.”

  Aiden held up a deep blue shirt and cocked his head as he stared at it.

  “Hmm, maybe this one. Look, Mal,” he said as he looked over at his partner. “We're all still trying to return to normalcy after the attack by the primal dragon, and the loss of Liliana. Personally, I think that it's a good sign that the guards look more relaxed than they have in the last few days. By all means, go around and make sure that they are focused on their duties. But don't overdo it, okay? We may be their commanders, but we're also their friends, at least when we're off-duty. Don't forget that. And the new guards all need time to get used to their roles. We've lost too many veterans over the past several months as it is. Don't scare off the new guys.”

  With a heavy sigh, Malcolm closed the window again and walked over to the open door.

  “Okay, point taken. Maybe I am a little testy at the moment. I'll head out and talk to those two at the gate and then do the rounds. Good luck with Chao. I hope that he'll have some good news.”

  “Me too. See you soon.”

  Malcolm left their quarters after fastening his sword belt around his waist. He might be off duty, but if he was going to check on the guard posts, he wanted to at least look somewhat professional.

  He walked through the halls of the castle, smiling and nodding at those he came across. He didn't stop to talk though. Aiden had just reminded him of something that he'd put out of his mind since the dragon attack: the loss of many of the castle's veteran guardsmen.

  Many months before the dragons had returned, the Council had asked Malcolm and Aiden to send out patrols once or twice a week to scout out the surrounding countryside. They wanted the patrols to keep an eye open for any threats to the castle, as well as to watch for and protect any refugees trying to make their way to Nottinghill. It was a good idea and both of the warriors had agreed to set up a schedule.

  However, they only asked for those who were willing to go. No one was forced to leave the safety of the castle if they didn't want to. After all, as Malcolm had reminded the Council members, the guards were all volunteers. They weren't drafted, nor were they paid in actual money. That didn't exist anymore.

  Instead, the castle's armed forces were given food, shelter, clothing and everything else that they needed to live comfortably. In return, they gave their service and risked their lives for their fellow citizens. It was a fair trade.

  “But if anyone ever decides that they would rather take up farming or knitting or any of a hundred other trades,” Malcolm had told Tamara once. “Then they can, at any time. So I won't order someone into danger who isn't willing to face it. Remember that.”

  Unfortunately, because the world was such a dangerous place, they suffered losses from time to time. Attacks by rogue monsters like dire wolves or griffins took their toll and the ranks of the guardsmen grew thin. And so there was a constant need for new troops. And it took a while to train those people up, as Malcolm had just noticed from his bedroom window.

  Patience, he told himself as he exited the castle and entered the courtyard. Always be firm but fair. If you start scaring off the new guards, there won't be a lot of people lining up to take their place.

  Malcolm knew that there were always volunteers eager to join the ranks of the castle's guardsmen because both he and Aiden treated their people well. They trained them hard but didn't push them beyond their limits. They also made sure to let the guards know that they would listen to any concerns or complaints that came up. In fact, everyone was encouraged to speak up as soon as problems arose. Dealing with small issues early stopped them from becoming large headaches later. And it might be boring work most of the time, but standing guard duty was a lot easier than planting crops or washing floors.

  The day was warm and bright and Malcolm stopped for a moment to take a deep breath and enjoy the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. He was feeling calmer now and regretted his earlier outburst, so he decided to visit the guards at the main gate first, to clear the air.

  The courtyard was humming with activity. Many small stone buildings had been built here to serve the castle's tradesmen.

  There was the smithy, of course, which constantly belched out black smoke from its busy forge.

  There was a large building where other tradesmen would gather, like the weavers, the cloth makers, the dyers and others who produced the castle's clothing.

  Masons had their own building, as did the farmers and many other trades. The courtyard had actually begun to look more like a small town and the Council was thinking of building more structures outside of the main gate, including small houses, and surrounding them with a wall. The castle's population was growing and more living space would be needed soon.

  A sort of open air market had also sprung up, seemingly spontaneously. No one used money, of course, so lists of credits earned by the inhabitants were used instead. Everyone who worked earned credits that were tallied by their supervisors and kept by the castle's seneschal, Hassan Bishara.

  Malcolm smiled to himself as he thought of Hassan. The man wore a full robe and turban that he claimed was traditional amongst his people, but he spoke with a thick Yorkshire accent. At least that's what Tamara had said it was. All Malcolm knew was that he enjoyed listening to Hassan speak. But quirky or not, the man managed the day to day affairs of the castle with seeming ease, and the Council all relied on his expertise.

  There was also a training hall for the guards off to one side of the courtyard, with a barracks next to it for those troops who were single. There wasn't enough room, even inside of such an enormous castle as Nottinghill, for every guardsman to have his or her own quarters unless they were willing to share with at least one other person. Fortu
nately the barracks building was roomy and well laid out and there were very few complaints.

  Malcolm crossed the courtyard and greeted several people as he went. When he reached the other side, he could see the towering front gates and the guards that he had shouted at earlier. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and then walked steadily toward them.

  Let's hope I handle this better the second time around, he thought ruefully.

  Chapter 4

  Aiden finally decided to wear a plain white tunic and gray pants for his visit to Chao. With the summoner's introspective personality, exacerbated by his brother's death, Aiden felt that a low-key approach would work best.

  After he had gotten changed, Aiden walked over to the window and looked down at the front gate. He grinned as he saw Malcolm speaking animatedly to the two guardsmen that he'd shouted at earlier. Both young men were laughing, so whatever the big guy was saying, it seemed to be going well.

  Good, Aiden thought contentedly. Malcolm's smoothed things over. That angry outburst wasn't called for and definitely was not like him. Obviously he's antsy about the idea of lifting this curse that we've lived with for so long now. So am I.

  He sat down on the wide window sill, watched the men below and let his mind drift for a moment. Imagine not worrying about changing into a beast at every full moon. How amazing would that be? And to be able to actually use and control that curse in battle? That would be an unbelievable advantage.

  Aiden still remembered, with crystal clarity, the day that he and Malcolm had been ambushed by the werewolf that had infected them both. They had been doing a routine patrol of the forest surrounding the old village of Nottinghill. Night was falling and the shadows under the trees had become thick, but neither of them had been alarmed. In fact, they had finished their sweep of the area and had been heading home when the attack happened.

  Maybe we let our guard down, Aiden thought yet again.

  He'd gone over the confrontation countless times over the years and he still wasn't sure if it could have gone differently. He doubted it. The attack had come as a complete surprise and even if both men had been more alert, Aiden didn't think that it would have mattered. The monster had just been too strong.

  One moment he and Malcolm had been chatting quietly as they followed a game trail back toward town, and the next a slavering, roaring cyclone of death had dropped down on them from the trees.

  Aiden remembered the sharp pain as the werewolf had slashed his face with its knife-like talons. And the smell. A heavy stench that was a mixture of old sweat, blood and wet fur. It was thick enough to make him gag.

  He'd been flung a dozen feet away as if he had weighed no more than a child. Malcolm had grappled with the beast and the two of them had rolled around in the underbrush, the werewolf growling insanely and the big man bellowing in fury.

  Jumping to his feet, Aiden had watched the battle helplessly with his sword raised. The two combatants had been so entangled, and it was so dark, that he couldn't risk a blow that might hit Malcolm instead of their attacker. At that point, Aiden couldn't even clearly see what their assailant looked like.

  Somehow, Malcolm had managed to fling the beast off of him. He rolled away and leaped to his feet, drawing his sword at the same time. Both of the warriors then stood side by side and watched as the monster snarled at them from the darkness. All they could see clearly were a pair of glowing green eyes.

  “What is it?” Aiden had asked as he'd wiped some blood out of his eyes with his free hand.

  “No damned idea,” Malcolm panted.

  He was holding his two-handed sword steadily in front of himself, pointing it directly at their opponent.

  “Sort of looks like a wolf,” he continued. “If a wolf was the size of a horse.”

  The shadowy creature began to circle to their left and they moved in lockstep to remain facing it.

  “Wolves don't move like that,” Aiden muttered. “It grappled with you, Mal. A wolf can't do that.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever it is, it's dead,” Malcolm rumbled angrily. “So come on, nightmare! Make your move.”

  The beast was growling steadily, a low rumble that was beyond ominous. Aiden was nervous but not afraid. When Malcolm was by his side, fear could never touch him.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Bastard bit my hand, but it's not bad,” Malcolm replied softly. “It's my own fault for not wearing my gloves. Lesson learned, I guess. You?”

  “Clawed my face, across the forehead. It's dripping into my eyes but I'm fine.”

  Malcolm growled at Aiden's reply, a sound almost as deep and menacing as the beast's.

  “Oh, now you really are dead,” he hissed at it.

  Suddenly the monster reared up on its hind legs and the warriors clearly saw just how big it was. It towered over them, almost nine feet tall, and it was as heavy-set as they were. It roared again and then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

  There was a heavy pounding of retreating feet that faded away in seconds, leaving Malcolm and Aiden standing in almost total darkness.

  “Son of a...” Malcolm muttered.

  “Damn it,” Aiden exclaimed angrily. “There's no way to follow that, whatever it was, in the dark. Crap! Now what?”

  “Now we head back to town, get Clara to heal us and take up the hunt in the morning,” Malcolm replied heavily.

  He glanced up at the night sky, barely visible through the branches above them.

  “At least there's a full moon tonight. We won't get lost on the way back.”

  “Yeah, that's something, I suppose.”

  Aiden shook his head to clear away the memories. He stood up and looked down at the gate again. Malcolm was gone and the guards were back at their posts, both men looking a lot more cheerful than they had earlier.

  Well, that's one crisis averted, he thought as he stretched and rubbed his face. Now to visit Chao and see what he has to say.

  He put on his boots and headed for the door.

  Chao's quarters were segregated from most of the other residents. He had a small suite of rooms on the eastern side of the castle, on the very top floor and it took Aiden quite some time to reach them.

  The corridor that led to the summoner's quarters twisted and turned and was so narrow that Aiden's broad shoulders actually brushed the walls several times.

  How did he find this place, the warrior wondered. And why was it even built? Maybe as a storage room?

  The castle had been rebuilt by earth elementals under the command of Simon O'Toole and people were still finding secret rooms and strange areas even now. After his brother's death, Chao had moved to his new quarters to get away from the rest of the castle's residents. He claimed that he needed peace and quiet as he pursued his research into learning to summon new kinds of creatures. Aiden wasn't so sure.

  He finally reached his destination and stood in front of the heavy wooden door for a moment. There was a lone torch burning low in a bracket a few feet away, but the hallway itself was gloomy and very quiet. Aiden could actually hear the building settling around him, creaking and groaning like a lost soul. It was an eerie experience.

  He knocked firmly on the door and then waited, listening anxiously.

  A minute passed before Aiden heard a bolt being pulled back on the other side of the door. It opened slowly and light flooded out into the corridor, making him squint his eyes.

  “Aiden? My goodness, this is a surprise.”

  “Hi Chao,” the warrior replied, trying to see the other man's face in the sudden brightness. “Sorry to bother you. Is this a bad time?”

  “No, no, of course not. Please, come in.”

  Chao stood back and Aiden walked through the doorway into a large room.

  He looked around with interest as Chao closed the door behind him.

  The room was quite a bit larger than he had expected. There was a fireplace in the wall to his right and a row of windows straight ahead facing toward the east.
Sunlight blazed into the room and all of the windows were open, allowing a delightful breeze to flow through the room that had a hint of the sea in it.

  Bookshelves lined the wall to Aiden's left and a pair of heavy leather chairs were sitting in front of them, with a round wooden table covered in books and rolls of parchment between them.

  Chao had changed into a bright yellow robe decorated with delicate green butterflies. He looked ethereal in the bright sunlight.

  “Have a seat,” he said politely as he walked past Aiden and waved at the chairs. “I'll get you something to drink.”

  “Don't go to any trouble,” Aiden told him as he walked over and sat down.

  “No trouble at all. I'll be right back.”

  Chao left the room through a doorway next to the fireplace and Aiden took a moment to examine the room more closely.

  There were some small handmade rugs scattered around on the stone floor, all of them brightly colored. Weavers were busy these days, he thought, as people always wanted rugs and tapestries to make their homes feel warm and cozy.

  There was an interesting painting hanging over the fireplace and he stood up and walked over to stare up at it.

  It was the portrait of a man. He was wearing a full suit of armor and a long cloak fell back over his shoulders. His long dark hair was flowing in a breeze, as was the cloak, and the man was staring off into the distance, a contemplative expression on his handsome face.

  Aiden felt a pang of regret as he recognized the warrior. It was Lei, Chao's brother. He was the only other paladin that Aiden had ever known, after Liliana. He had died valiantly defending a group of refugees who had been trying to reach the castle. They had survived. Lei had not.

  “Here you go.”

  Aiden turned around and smiled at Chao. He accepted a steaming cup of tea with a polite thank-you.

  “You are welcome.”

  “That is a beautiful painting,” Aiden said appreciatively. “Which of our artists created it?”

  Chao looked up at his brother and smiled wistfully.