The Werewolves of Nottinghill

by J. J. Thompson

  Chase had smiled at the sound of disappointment in the mage's voice.

  “Allow me to activate the portal so that you can see it for yourselves,” she had replied. “Please remain here. The energies generated can be dangerous if you are not attuned to them.”

  The small group watched as Chase walked out into the middle of the clearing. She lowered her head and extended her arms. The elf began speaking rhythmically, her voice rising and falling almost as if she was singing.

  “We should really learn how to speak Elvish,” Tamara muttered to the others.

  Her brother grinned.

  “Already on my to-do list,” he replied quietly.

  Chase stopped speaking, stepped back and uttered one word. There was a green flash of light and suddenly the onlookers were staring at what could only be described as a rip in the air in the middle of the clearing. It hummed and crackled with power and they could see strange trees covered with bright red and yellow foliage through the jagged opening.

  “Wow!” Malcolm exclaimed. “Would you look at that!”

  “Amazing,” Aiden agreed.

  He looked over at the elf, who was standing near the portal, staring at it calmly.

  “Chase,” he called out. “What would happen if someone not attuned to the portal tried to use it? Say an enemy managed to open it. Could they invade your world?”

  She smiled coolly.

  “No. The dragons managed to do so, once. But that is no longer possible, even for them. If anyone not attuned to our plane tried to cross over, they would die immediately. And that includes humans, goblins or any other living thing.”

  “Could one of us cross over, if we went through the process of being attuned, whatever that entails?” Sebastian asked.

  There was a loud bang that made everyone jump. The portal had collapsed and disappeared.

  Chase walked back to join the group, looking thoughtfully at Sebastian.

  “Certainly,” she told him. “Because the extreme time differential no longer exists between our worlds, humans who were properly prepared could easily come and go through the portal. I am sure that Dianis would happily give permission to anyone that you, the Council, wanted to send through for a visit.”

  “Slow it down, hotshot,” Tamara interrupted her brother. “I know where you are going with this, but it's way too soon to think about a trip to the elves' home world. Let's all get used to each other first, shall we?”

  Although Sebastian looked disappointed, he nodded.

  “You're right,” he said slowly. “But when the time comes, count me in as a volunteer.”

  “You honor us,” Chase told him with a smile. “I am sure that my people would welcome you, should you ever visit our world.”

  “Okay everyone,” Tamara said as she looked around at the group. “Our curiosity is satisfied for now, so let's get back. We all have a lot to do.”

  Chapter 13

  One evening, about a month after the elves had arrived, Malcolm and Aiden were sitting in companionable silence in the study of their quarters.

  Aiden was reading an old book about mythological creatures and marveling at how close to the new reality the writer had been, while Malcolm was working on the next week's work schedule for the castle's guardsmen. Candles glowed all over the room in brass holders and a low fire was burning in the small fireplace.

  “Aiden?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Sandra's doing a double shift on Tuesday. Should I give her the next day off?”

  Aiden looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course. We have to pace the troops, Mal, or they'll get burned out. If there's an emergency, we'll need them as rested and as fresh as possible.”

  “Good,” Malcolm said as he made a note on the papers on his lap. “The thing is, Sandra's overly eager. As a new member of the guard, I think she's overcompensating, trying to prove herself to the other warriors. She's constantly volunteering for more shifts.”

  “And it's your job as her commander to reign in that enthusiasm,” Aiden told him. “You're the boss and you have to make sure that your people don't overdo it, no matter how much they want to.”

  The big man growled softly.

  “Sometimes it feels more like being a babysitter than a boss,” he muttered as he scanned the pages.

  Aiden grinned and went back to his book.

  A few minutes later, a loud knock echoed through the suite and the men looked at each other.

  “Someone's visiting late,” Aiden commented.

  “Yeah. Stay there,” Malcolm said as he surged to his feet. “I need a break from these damned timetables anyway.”

  He smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothing as he left the room. Both of the men were wearing comfortable linen shirts and trousers and thick woolen socks. The floors in the castle were always cold, even in the middle of summer.

  Malcolm walked into the living room and crossed it to open the front door. Out in the hall, he was shocked to see the elven Elder, Shendal. The oldest of the Elders, Shendal was rarely seen outside of his quarters except for council meetings.

  He stood in the torch-lit hallway in his long white robes, leaning on an ornate staff and he smiled at Malcolm's astonished expression.

  “Good evening, commander,” Shendal said softly, his voice thin and weak. “I apologize for disturbing you at this late hour.”

  “Not at all, sir,” Malcolm replied quickly. “You aren't disturbing us. Please, come in.”

  “Thank you.”

  The elf walked into the room, leaning heavily on his staff, and looked around curiously.

  “A lovely room,” he said as he looked at the bookshelves and the fireplace. “It radiates warmth and feelings of home.”

  Malcolm steered him toward the couch and waited until the Elder was seated before answering.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said with a smile. “We find it comfortable. May I get you something? I can make you some tea.”

  Aiden walked into the room at that moment and stopped abruptly, staring at Shendal in surprise.

  “Oh, I'm sorry,” he exclaimed. “I didn't realize that we had company. Good evening, sir.”

  “Good evening,” the Elder said with a gentle smile. “I hope that I am not interrupting anything?”

  “Not at all. Malcolm, I heard you mention tea? I'll make some. You keep the Elder company.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Please don't go to any trouble,” Shendal said politely.

  “It is no trouble,” Aiden assured him. “I'll be right back.”

  He left the room and Malcolm sat down on an overstuffed chair across from the couch and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

  “It is an honor to welcome you into our home, Elder,” he said sincerely. “I hope that there isn't any trouble?”

  “Trouble? No, not really.”

  Shendal looked around the room slowly, nodding to himself. There were candles burning in holders on the mantelpiece and the sweet scent of the burning wood in the fireplace seemed to please him.

  “You and your fellow commander are...partners?” he asked as he looked back at Malcolm.

  The big man was surprised by the odd question. He wondered how the elves viewed same-sex couples. Would they even understand the concept?

  “We are, sir,” Malcolm replied evenly. “We've been together since before the dragons returned, a decade ago.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Shendal smiled warmly.

  “Do not be concerned by an old elf's curiosity,” he continued. “Such partnerships are not uncommon among my people. I only ask because the two of you make such a formidable pair. Very impressive, in my opinion.”

  Malcolm felt a surge of relief and pleasure at the Elder's words.

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.” he said.

  “You are welcome. Could you tell me of the life you have lived since the magic came back to your world? I am curious about how your people have
survived in such difficult circumstances.”

  They chatted for a few moments about the years since the dragons almost destroyed the human race. When Aiden came back into the room carrying a tray with three steaming cups of tea on it, along with a jar of honey, he smiled as he heard the animated conversation. Shendal appeared to be fascinated by everything that Malcolm was telling him.

  “Here you are, sir,” Aiden said as he extended the tray to the Elder. “Please add honey to your tea if you wish. The chamomile is a little bitter.”

  Shendal quickly stirred some of the amber liquid into his cup and picked it up off of the tray.

  “Thank you very much,” he said as he sat back and sipped the hot liquid. “Ah, it is delicious.”

  Aiden gave Malcolm a cup as well and then set down the tray and sat down at the end of the couch with his own tea.

  “I'm glad that you like it, sir,” he told the Elder. “Sorry if I interrupted your conversation.”

  “Not at all,” Shendal said kindly. “I know little of the human race's experiences since the devastation that the dragons visited upon it ten years ago. I am very impressed that you have all survived.”

  He shook his head slowly, his eyes' wide in obvious astonishment.

  “Even as your entire race was practically wiped out, this little group of people stood up against the tide of evil and horror and has, from what little I have seen so far, thrived. Your are an admirable people.”

  Malcolm and Aiden exchanged a quick smile at the Elder's complimentary words.

  “You give us too much credit, I think,” Malcolm replied frankly. “I think that a lot of our survival can be chalked up to luck rather than skill or stubbornness.”

  Shendal laughed lightly.

  “In my long life, I have learned that luck is a word used when people have no other explanation for things that happen to them. I doubt that luck played much of a part in your defeat of the dragons, my friends. However, we can agree to disagree on that point.”

  He sipped some tea and leaned back comfortably on the couch.

  “Now, as much as I am enjoying our talk, I would like to get to the real reason that I have visited you both at such a late hour.”

  The atmosphere in the room changed instantly as the Elder's voice deepened and his expression became much more serious.

  “We're listening, sir,” Malcolm told the elf. “Is there trouble? Some emergency?”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Shendal assured him. “This is something else entirely. It has to do with the two of you and your...condition.”

  Aiden frowned at him.

  “Our condition, sir? What condition is that?”

  Malcolm glowered at the old elf. What the hell was this guy talking about? He'd mentioned the relationship between the two men. Did it have something to do with that? If it did, this meeting was about to get a lot less cordial.

  Shendal looked at each of them and raised a thin hand.

  “Do not take that statement the wrong way, please,” he said, his weak voice quavering a little. “I speak of your curse, the condition of lycanthropy that you have both suffered with for so long. Your leader, the lady Tamara, came to me as the eldest of my company and asked if we had any lore or experience when it came to counteracting such dark magics.”

  He paused for a moment and watched as both of the warriors relaxed slightly.

  “She did so only after receiving my word that our conversation would remain strictly confidential,” he told them, “so do not worry that I will discuss your affliction with others. I will not.”

  He focused on Malcolm, who smiled in relief.

  “We are not worried, sir,” he said with a quick look at Aiden. “Our 'condition', as you call it, is not really a secret. I've been asked by many people over the years about it, and I've never denied that both of us were infected by a werewolf. But I always assure those who ask that it is under control and will never be unleashed against anyone.”

  “Ah, that is good to hear. And wise,” Shendal said. “Secrets have a way of turning on people over time. Now, as to your curse, I may have some knowledge of a way to counteract it.”

  Both of the men stared at him in surprise. The Elder's statement had been made so simply that it took them a moment to process it.

  “Wait a moment, please,” Aiden said slowly. “Are you saying that you know of a way to cure us? Actually cure us?”

  The Elder nodded.

  “Yes. Well, perhaps. Magical energy can be unpredictable to some degree. Your condition is complex, as I understand it. The dark magics that caused it have resided within your bodies for many years, becoming more and more entwined with your own life forces. To extract that magic will take both time and great skill.”

  “And do you believe that our mages here at Nottinghill have the skill to be able to accomplish that? Remove our curse?” Malcolm asked eagerly.

  To his surprise, the Elder shook his head.

  “No, I do not. No offense to your magic-users, of course, but they have only recently reacquired their powers. The lady Tamara told me that the summoner, Chao, was told by a sprite that he could counteract the spell?”

  “He told us that, yes.”

  “Sprites are tricksters, my friends. They are magical creatures, yes, but they have no skill or knowledge of such things. While I am sure that the sprite could sense your affliction, I do not believe that she could do anything to affect it.”

  “Figures,” Malcolm muttered angrily. “I had a feeling that Ellas was full of it. Seems that I was right.”

  “Ellas?” Shendal said. “Who is Ellas?”

  “That's the name of the sprite that spoke to Chao about us,” Aiden told him.

  “He knows its name? That is very dangerous,” the Elder said in obvious disapproval. “Summoned creatures should never be allowed to become too close to the one who summons them. They are often devious and malicious. I hope that your friend knows this.”

  Malcolm looked at him in alarm.

  “I'm not sure that he does,” he told the elf. “Just in case, I'll be sure to mention it to him.”

  “That would be prudent. Better safe than sorry, as your people say.”

  Shendal picked up his tea cup and took a sip. While he did so, Aiden got up and walked over to the fireplace. He added a log to the slowly dying flames and rolled it around until it caught fire in the embers. Then he turned to the Elder and gestured at his cup.

  “More tea, sir?” he asked politely.

  “Ah, no thank you. This is fine. I find that too much tea before my bedtime keeps me awake.”

  He chuckled quietly.

  “An old elf's complaint, I'm afraid.”

  The men laughed gently in response.

  “It has that effect on a lot of folks, sir, not just older people,” Malcolm told him.

  “How reassuring.”

  After he had returned to the couch, Aiden turned to look at the elf.

  “So, to follow up on your comment, sir,” he said tentatively. “If the mages here aren't able to cure us of our condition, do you know of an alternative treatment?”

  Malcolm watched as the old elf stared into the suddenly bright flames in the fireplace. The Elder seemed to be mulling over his answer very carefully.

  “As you both may know, elves are not magic-users, per se. We exist in harmony with magic, acknowledging its existence and living with it as naturally as your people accept and live with the power of the sun and the wind. But while we do not cast spells, some of my people can...” Shendal hesitated, “manipulate magical energies, adjusting their flow in different ways. We do not call these people magic-users, though. We call them singers.”

  “Singers?”

  Malcolm smiled at the term.

  “I've never heard of them before, sir,” he said.

  “I am not surprised. Singers are greatly revered amongst my people,” the Elder told them. “But they are very rare. I am blessed to have known two of them in my long life. One was a c
hildhood friend of mine who went on to do great things. Sadly, he died not long ago. I still feel his loss. The other is someone who is very dear to me. My younger sister, Kamalla.”

  “Your sister?” Aiden repeated. “Wow. You must be very proud of her, sir.”

  Shendal smiled at him.

  “Does it show?” he replied shyly. “Yes, I am proud. Kamalla is much younger than I am and has aided my people in many ways over her life time. When the dragons invaded our world, she used her skills to shield an entire village from their sight, saving hundreds of lives. If the great Simon O'Toole and the heroic paladin Liliana had not managed to defeat those monsters, I have no doubt that my sister would have battled them as well. She did not have to do that, and that is another reason why we owe your people such a great debt. To have lost one of the few singers we have would have been devastating.”

  “I'm glad that they were able to stop the dragons, sir,” Malcolm told him. “But what does your sister have to do with our particular problem?”

  Shendal finished his tea and set down his cup.

  “It is possible, just possible mind you, that Kamalla could alter the magical energies that course through your bodies and adjust the power so that it manifests in a different way. That might cure your lycanthropy or merely make it more manageable. I cannot say. But either way, it would at least improve your present condition.”

  Malcolm and Aiden exchanged another look.

  “And do you think that your sister would come here for a visit, just to see us?” the big man asked tentatively.

  “Never.”

  Shendal held up a thin hand at the looks of disappointment on the two men's faces.

  “I am sorry,” he said quickly. “I have no doubt that my sister would offer her aid to you if she could, but our Council of Elders would never allow her to risk herself by coming to this world. Singers are simply too valued and too rare. But that does not mean that you two could not journey through the portal to seek an audience with her.”

  Both men were caught off-guard by the suggestion.

  “Us? Travel to the elven world?” Aiden said in surprise. “Would that even be allowed?”

  “We have already told you and your leaders that it would be, as long as those who wanted to journey to our world were properly prepared. Of course we would frown upon those who wanted to visit just out of curiosity. Tourists, I believe you would call them.”