The Werewolves of Nottinghill

by J. J. Thompson

  “Shh, don't tell him that,” Malcolm said with a broad smile. “He might ask for a raise.”

  That made Aiden laugh for the first time and he seemed to let go of the last remnants of his bad mood.

  “If we had something like money, it probably would. All we can do is keep him happy and hope that his wife doesn't ask him to step down and start farming or whatever.”

  Malcolm rested his neck on the back of the couch and looked up at the ceiling. He snorted at the idea of Donny becoming a farmer.

  “Yeah, like that would ever happen. Did you know that he used to be a hi-tech specialist? Do you really think that someone like that would want to start planting crops?”

  “Donny? Really? I never knew that.”

  Aiden leaned against the window frame and looked over at Malcolm.

  “How does a person go from working with computers to swinging a sword?” he asked curiously.

  “How did we go from a couple of scrawny kids stuck in a small town to what we are today?” the big man replied. “Ask the lords of Light, not me. I just accepted it and moved on.”

  “Not at first you didn't. Remember how you...”

  A light tapping on their door interrupted Aiden and he and Malcolm exchanged a quick glance.

  “Come on in,” the big man called out. “It's open.”

  There was a momentary hesitation and then the door opened slowly and a small man dressed in a bright blue robe entered the room and bowed to each of them.

  “Chao!” Malcolm exclaimed. He sat up straight and smiled at the visitor. “Good afternoon. This is a surprise.”

  “Is something wrong?” Aiden asked quickly. “Do you need our help with something?”

  “No, my friends, I do not,” Chao replied. “But it is kind of you to ask.”

  He was holding a long metal fan that Malcolm had seen him use during his magical rituals. Now it was folded tightly and he held it in both hands as if hanging on to a life preserver.

  “But I felt that it was only right that I visit you to offer both an apology and an explanation. You came to me for assistance and I rejected you without reason. That was inexcusably rude.”

  Aiden walked over to Chao and offered his hand. The summoner shook it gently.

  “You owe us nothing, my friend,” Aiden said firmly. “Malcolm and I both trust you. I hope you know that. If you do not want to get involved in our problems, that's your choice.”

  Chao smiled up at him shyly.

  “I would like nothing better than to aid you,” he said, surprising both of the warriors. “But I have already lost my brother and I have no wish to lose two of the handful of friends that I have left.”

  “Lose us? I don't understand what you mean.”

  The summoner twisted his fan in his hands and it squeaked like a living thing.

  “I mean that if I do as you ask,” he said thinly. “I will probably kill you.”

  Chapter 6

  Aiden led Chao to the sofa in front of the window while Malcolm got up and hurried out of the room. He returned quickly with a glass of wine and handed it to Chao. The man looked paler than usual and Malcolm was worried about him.

  “Here,” he said as he offered the glass. “Drink some of this. It's last years' vintage and fairly decent.”

  Chao accepted the wine gratefully and took several sips.

  “Ah, it is very nice. Thank you,” he said in a more relaxed voice. “I rarely drink alcohol. As you may have noticed, I do not handle stress and conflict very well. Lei was always trying to help me get over that failing but I never really have.”

  Aiden and Malcolm sat down side by side on the couch across from him and watched their visitor intently.

  “You're doing just fine, Chao,” Malcolm reassured him. “And please remember that we are your friends. No matter what you say, you can't hurt us with words, so there's no need to be stressed around us.”

  Aiden smiled and nodded at Malcolm's statement.

  “He's right, you know,” he told Chao. “We've been through far too much to be bothered by harsh language. Besides, you weren't insulting to me, if that's what you are worrying about. You simply said no. If you're here to explain why, I would appreciate it, but you don't owe it to us. You don't owe us anything at all.”

  Their visitor delicately set down his glass on a small table next to the sofa and gave the warriors an inscrutable look.

  “Of course I do,” he disagreed with a touch of amusement in his voice. “All of us who live here in Nottinghill Castle do. We'd be foolish if we did not know who trained our guardsmen, who constantly watched from our walls and walked the patrols around our perimeter.”

  Chao spun his fan through his fingers and it chimed gently, its metal blades sounding like little bells.

  “Without your leadership, my friends,” he told Malcolm and Aiden, “we could have become prey to any number of monsters over the years. I wanted you to know that I appreciate your service. And that is why it pains me to deny your request. If anyone has earned my aid, it is you.”

  Aiden nodded his understanding, but Malcolm frowned at the comment.

  “I'm not angry, Chao,” he told the man, choosing his words carefully. “But no matter what you are worried about, shouldn't it ultimately be our choice to put ourselves in harm's way? I mean, if working your magic on us is dangerous, can't you just explain the risks and let us decide for ourselves?”

  Chao stopped playing with his fan and opened it with a deft flick of his wrist. The sunlight rippled across its metal surface as he waved it once and then closed it and slipped it into his sash.

  “Indeed, that is why I am here,” he said. “To explain the dangers. Ellas was far too flippant in telling you that there was a cure for your condition without mentioning the risks. Her kind is like that. They are flighty and self-centered. That is their nature. Probably a result of being immortal. But we mere humans should always weigh the risks versus the rewards of our actions.”

  “Wait a second. Sprites are immortal?” Aiden asked in amazement.

  “All of the fay are,” Chao told him. “Aging is unknown among them, which is another reason for their fascination with humans. They seem to enjoy studying us. Strange, I suppose, but then I also study them, so it's a fair trade.”

  Malcolm cleared his throat.

  “Yes, that's fascinating, but can we get back to the topic at hand?” he asked pointedly.

  “Sorry,” Aiden said with a grin. “I got a little side-tracked. Go ahead, Chao.”

  “Of course. Now, let me explain why the magic that Ellas suggested I use is far more dangerous than she let on.”

  Chao picked up his glass, took a quick sip and set it down again.

  “The problem is not with the spell that was passed on to you by that werewolf attack years ago,” he began. “The problem is that it has had so long to permeate your bodies that it is literally a part of you now. If the magic had been altered back then, it would have been fairly easy to achieve the results you desire. But now? Trying to manipulate the spell locked inside of you now might literally tear you apart. Do you understand? It could kill you and I would be the one responsible for it. I'm sorry but I cannot risk such a thing.”

  Aiden made a noncommittal sound deep in his throat but didn't say anything.

  Malcolm stared at him for a moment and then stood up and walked out of the room. He returned shortly with a wine bottle and two glasses. He handed one to Aiden and filled it, topped up Chao's glass and then poured one for himself. He set down the bottle and went to stand by the window. No one said anything: all of them seemed to be lost in thought.

  “Thank you for explaining it so succinctly,” Aiden told Chao after a few minutes had passed. “I wish that Ellas had been so forthcoming, but as you said, it's not in her nature.”

  “I am afraid that is true.”

  Both of them looked at Malcolm, who was staring blankly out of the window.

  “Mal? What are you thinking?” Aiden asked him.
<
br />   The big man turned his heavy head and looked back at him.

  “Thinking? I'm thinking that there may be a way forward that won't get us both killed, if Chao is willing.”

  “Really? What way?”

  Chao looked startled, but he listened closely.

  “I remember speaking with Simon O'Toole a long time ago,” the big man told them. “Back when we lived in the original town of Nottinghill. It was after he and Clara made our pendants. You remember that, Aiden?”

  “Like it was yesterday.”

  “Yeah, me too. He gave us our lives back. Anyway, Simon was explaining how he, a wizard, had combined his powers with Clara's, a cleric. They had very different ways of using magic, obviously. To be honest, most of it went over my head, but he said something that has stuck with me all this time. He said that maybe one day a group of spell-casters would be able to use their magical abilities together to control spells of much greater power.”

  Chao looked puzzled.

  “How would that possibly work?” he wondered. “I could see a group of mages, perhaps, meshing their spells together. After all, they have the same skills. But a mage working with a wizard? Or with someone like myself, whose magic is so unique? I can't imagine that actually succeeding.”

  “That's sort of what I said at the time,” Malcolm told him. “And Simon agreed that different kinds of magic-users wouldn't be able to combine their spells in that way. But here's what struck me as interesting. He said that, if a very powerful spell was being cast, one caster could help to stabilize that spell while the original magic-user or users actually invoked the magic.”

  He smiled at Chao.

  “In other words, an unstable or dangerous spell could be controlled more precisely by two or more casters cooperating together. So maybe you could get some help with this dangerous procedure from Tamara or one of the other mages here in the castle. What do you think?”

  “Interesting,” Chao said as he pulled out his fan and began absently spinning it between his fingers again. “Like a group of surgeons used to cooperate when working on a tricky operation, with one of them performing the dangerous tasks and others supporting them and making sure that the patient remained stable throughout. Hmm. That never occurred to me.”

  Aiden winked at Malcolm as they waited for Chao to think through what he'd just heard.

  “So, if I was using my powers to alter the lycanthropy spell on the two of you,” the summoner muttered as he thought aloud, “and someone else was monitoring the magic itself to make sure that your bodies remained healthy and stable... You know, that might actually work. How extraordinary.”

  He looked at the two warriors.

  “Perhaps it is a symptom of my self-imposed isolation that such a thing never occurred to me. Or was it arrogance? Oh dear. If so, that would be very disappointing.”

  Malcolm almost laughed out loud at the idea that Chao could be arrogant.

  “You, my friend,” he said firmly, “are the most humble spell-caster that I've ever met. Even Simon, who was a good and generous man, wasn't as self-effacing as you are. No, I think that you just needed to see things from another perspective, that's all. And now that you have, what do you think? Would you be willing to go through with the procedure?”

  “Let me speak with Tamara and Veronique,” Chao said as he stood up and put away his fan again. “I want to explain this to them both and get their thoughts. They are the most powerful mages in the castle, after all, and I will need their help if we do attempt this. After we discuss it, you and I will speak further. If that is acceptable?”

  “It is more than acceptable,” Aiden assured him. “You and the others are the experts, not Malcolm and me. Just let us know what you decide and we'll go from there.”

  Malcolm walked Chao to the door and saw him out. After the man had left, he closed the door and turned to look at Aiden.

  “And now we wait,” he said heavily.

  Aiden sat back on the couch with a sigh and nodded.

  “And now we wait,” he agreed.

  While they were waiting to hear back from Chao, both Aiden and Malcolm still had things to do and duties to perform. The day after their meeting, with both of them back on duty, it was Aiden's turn to take out a patrol and sweep the countryside around the castle. After recent events, he felt even more strongly that getting back to a routine would help the castle's defenders to move on and get back to normalcy.

  Malcolm agreed, but it didn't stop him from feeling nervous as he stood on the battlements and watched the patrol leave in the pale morning light. Seven guardsmen, including Aiden, walked out of the main gate and disappeared into the mist. It had been raining all night and Nottinghill was surrounded by a wall of fog.

  “Feels like we're standing inside of a snow globe, doesn't it?”

  Malcolm glanced at Donny as the smiling redhead joined him on the parapet.

  “Yes, it does,” he replied. “Even after living in England for years, I can't seem to get used to these frequent foggy mornings. I mean, we had the occasional bit of fog back home, but not very often. This stuff?”

  He gestured at the milky wall that hemmed in the castle on all sides.

  “This just doesn't feel natural.”

  Donny could only shrug.

  “I'm from London, mate. This is like a taste of home for me. Means nothing. So what's really wrong with you? You aren't worried about Aiden, are you? He's a big boy, you know. In fact,” he added with a broad smile, “except for you, he's the biggest boy in the castle.”

  Malcolm pushed back his braids and raised an eyebrow as he stared at Donny.

  “Using the word 'boy' so freely around the castle's only black man could easily be taken the wrong way, you know,” he said calmly.

  Donny's mouth dropped open and he hastily began to backtrack.

  “Now, now, Malcolm, you know better than that. I wasn't...”

  The big man threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  “Relax, Donny,” he chortled. “I'm just yanking your chain. I know you better than that.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Donny said with a relieved grin. “Don't do that. Of all the problems we've faced since the end of the old world, racism hasn't seemed to be one of them. Let's leave that crap in the past, shall we?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Malcolm agreed. “Anyway, in answer to your question; no, I'm not worried about Aiden specifically. But any time a patrol goes out, I get a bit antsy. And now that we've lost Liliana, I'm a bit gun shy. With the death of the primal red dragon, something's changed in the world. I can feel it.”

  Both men stared out into the fog, watching it roil and stir like a living thing. There wasn't a breath of wind and the sound of someone's heavy footsteps echoed up from the courtyard behind them with abnormal clarity.

  “What do you mean?” Donny asked in a hushed voice. “What's changed?”

  “I don't know, Donny boy,” Malcolm replied with a faint smile that quickly faded. “It feels like we've gotten something's attention. Something that, up until now, hadn't even noticed us. But is that attention is a good thing or a bad thing? That's the real question.”

  He slapped the redhead on his armored shoulder.

  “Stay alert. I'm going to do the rounds.”

  “Aye.”

  Aiden led his six guardsmen through the main gates and out into the fog. The group were all fully armed and wearing chain-mail, with two of the warriors carrying bows over their shoulders and quivers on their hips, as well as their swords. Aiden always insisted that someone bring along a bow, just in case they ran into some game. Fresh venison was always a welcome addition to the castle's larder.

  There were three men and three women in the patrol. Aiden hadn't tried to even up the sexes on purpose. These six were simply next in the rotation schedule to head out on patrol. He was pleased though. In his experience, men might generally be stronger than women, but women had quicker reflexes and were more agile than their male counterparts. I
t balanced out nicely. And the two bowmen in the group just happened to be women this time around.

  When they had marched south a few hundred paces and lost sight of Nottinghill in the thick fog, Aiden stopped his guardsmen and gathered them around him.

  “Okay, everyone,” he began. “Tamara and the Council have asked us to scout mostly southward this time. I don't know if any of them has had some kind of magical revelation...”

  One of the men grimaced and Aiden grinned at him.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, Tom. Most of those 'hunches' of theirs don't pan out. But hey, they're the spell-casters, not us, so we have to go along with them. And don't forget that they are occasionally right. We have found a few groups of refugees on these missions thanks to their directions, you know. So let's not assume that this is a wild goose chase.”

  He looked at the two women who were armed with bows.

  “Natalie and Sharon. I want both of you to bring up the rear. If we run into something nasty in this damned fog, I want you to be able to hang back and attack at range while the rest of us engage the enemy. Clear?”

  Both women nodded.

  “Clear, sir,” Sharon replied.

  Both she and Natalie were veterans of several encounters with monsters and Aiden knew them to be steady and level-headed warriors.

  “Good. I'll take point for now. Allow no more than ten paces between each of you and don't lose sight of each other in this fog. Heads on a swivel and listen for anything suspicious. Let's go.”

  Malcolm tripped over a loose stone and almost skidded to his knees. He blistered the fog that surrounded him with curses and grabbed at his sheathed sword, narrowly avoiding jabbing himself in the crotch as he fell.

  After he had steadied himself and found his balance, Malcolm looked around at the thick soupy mist in irritation. He couldn't see more than a dozen feet in any direction.

  The big man had exited the castle via the main gate and turned left, intending to walk a slow circle around Nottinghill. The watch leader had decided to wait until the fog had lifted before sending out a group of guardsmen to walk the regular morning patrol around the perimeter, so Malcolm thought that he could do one circuit himself, just to keep an eye on things. Aiden, he knew, would not approve.