10. WOLFSBANE
It didn't matter how long Liesel basked in the beams of sunlight. She would never tire of it. Opening her eyes, Liesel looked down at the apple she held and squeezed it with satisfaction. It would be perfect for the pie Ros was going to bake that afternoon.
"I will take four," she told the man behind the stall. Ros only needed three, but Liesel was hungry. She smiled as she again thanked the Maker for the generosity of her patrons. It had been a long time since she had gone hungry.
"Whether we like it or not," she heard a woman one stall over remark, "it's time to put out the Wolfsbane again."
"Aye, they were loud last night. I sent my Ada for some first thing this morning," Mrs. Thull answered dryly.
"Pardon me," Liesel moved closer. "But what is Wolfsbane?" She had already seen three children running about that morning with armfuls of the long purple stems, yelling out that they had Wolfsbane for sale.
"Didn't you hear the wolves last night?" Mrs. Thull asked. Liesel shivered a little. She had done her best not to.
"The wolf mother must have died," the other woman said. Liesel didn't know who she was, but she was short and somewhat plump, dressed from head to toe in yellow. "The wolves must be looking for their new one."
"How long have you been in Tag, Liesel?" Mrs. Thull studied her. Liesel shifted uncomfortably.
"Four years."
"That would be it," Mrs. Thull nodded at her friend knowingly. "You weren't here the last time we had to put out Wolfsbane."
"It's been twenty-two years," the woman in yellow laughed, affectionately slapping Mrs. Thull on the arm. "She wasn't even alive then! Just us old birds." She turned to Liesel, still chuckling. "But where are you from, child? Even the babes know the story here."
"Weit," Liesel said softly. Telling people where she was born was easier than telling them she had come from Ward. It didn't matter how often she tried to relate her story to her friends in Tag, she just couldn't do it. Eventually, the Beckes had stopped asking her, and so had her other friends as time went by. Liesel had once overheard Ros telling an acquaintance that the girl's past must have been difficult because she could never get more than a word or two about it. Liesel was thankful that they didn't press harder. Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to utter a word of her confusing past to anyone in Tag.
Although she missed her grandparents sorely, coming to Tag had been the next best thing that could have happened to Liesel. The three years she had spent in Ward had been full of confusion, fear, and loneliness. The more time she spent in Tag, the stranger she realized her life in Ward had been.
Not long after her escape, Liesel had made the conscious decision to try and forget everything that had happened to her in Ward. And she'd succeeded for the most part. She no longer flinched when passersby turned to look at her. She came and left the Beckes' house without feeling afraid. She had friends, and the Beckes treated her like the daughter they'd always wanted. There were even two men who were determined to win her hand. And yet, there were parts of her painful past that she couldn't shake. She found ways to block them during the day, to stay busy and productive, but at night, they came to visit her where she couldn't escape. Last night had been one of those nights, particularly in thanks to the distant cries of the wolves, something she hadn't heard since coming to Tag.
"Legend has it that there is a pack of wolves that live outside Ward," the woman in yellow began. "They live in the depths of the forest, where the wood is the darkest. They're no ordinary wolves now, mind you. They can walk about as men, and no one can tell them apart from his neighbors. But they cannot just stay that way. They need a wolf mother of human blood to keep the magic alive so they can continue to appear human. When the wolf mother dies, they must find a new one, or the magic will overwhelm them. That's what the Wolfsbane is for, to keep them away from the doors of good human families with daughters they might steal." The short woman's eyes shone with excitement as she spoke, but Mrs. Thull rolled her own eyes.
"Now look what you've done, gone and scared the poor girl with your stories." She waved her hand dismissively at her friend. Liesel realized her mouth had fallen open in horror, and tried quickly to pull herself back together.
"No, I understand that it is just a story but," she paused, "does the Wolfsbane supposedly work?" Mrs. Thull shrugged.
"Who knows? Most parents put it on their porches now just to scare their children and keep them from straying too far out into the woods. But it doesn't hurt, I suppose. I'll tell you one thing, though. I've lived here all my life, and every family that I have ever seen move to Ward has stayed there. Not one has ever left. Not one. Ada!" She suddenly called out to her small daughter. "Don't touch that!" And in a moment, both Mrs. Thull and her friend were gone. The story weighed on Liesel's mind, however, as she walked home. There was too much to the legend that reminded her of Ward. They had laughed that it was just a children's story, a legend to keep little ones home and safe. And yet, it was somehow too familiar for comfort.
Liesel hurried home with her little basket of apples, too lost in thought to acknowledge the people she met on the street. As she reached to open the carved wooden door that adorned the Beckes' home, she realized she'd been rubbing the scar on her right hand. It tingled. Nonsense, she thought. The scar hadn't hurt in years. It was just her imagination.
"Oh, there you are, Liesel," her mistress greeted her with a mischievous grin. Despite the fact that her hair was graying, it was easy to forget Ros's age when she was up to some mischief. "Fridric was here again. He left you-"
"Flowers in the hall," Liesel rolled her eyes and smiled, briefly forgetting the troublesome Wolfsbane. Right on time, Fridric never missed a morning.
"You really should give him a chance," Ros shook her head indulgently. "He truly does like you, unlike Benat." Liesel gave an unladylike snort. Fridric was in fact a sweet young man, if not a bit too obsessed with his horses. Very tall and so lanky he appeared almost skeletal, he had approached Liesel the first time she'd attended Holy Day with the Beckes, and there he had declared himself in love with her on the spot. Despite her assurances that she wasn't currently looking for a man to attach herself to, he had persisted, certain that being the wife of a horse breeder was what she desired in her heart of hearts. Liesel had done her best to avoid him at first, but very quickly she'd realized that meant not going anywhere at all. Fridric's parents were good friends with the Beckes, and the families talked often. In time, she had learned how to handle the kind, somewhat overly sensitive man, especially when his imagination got the best of him. If she was honest, it was rather akin to handling a very large child.
Benat Hass was another story. An older, less enthusiastic man, Ros reported that he had a bad habit of chasing every unattached woman that came through Tag. Sure enough, as soon as he'd noticed Fridric trailing about after Liesel, Benat had simply followed suit. He was older than Fridric by at least ten years. Old enough, according to Ros, to know better. He was even taller than Fridric, but he was also broad. His mustache was thick and bushy, but it was only as wide as his mouth. It reminded Liesel of the caterpillars that used to crawl into her mother's garden back in Weit. Rather than using his knowledge of horses to impress Liesel, as Fridric did, however, Benat simply attempted to assert himself as Liesel's protector wherever she went.
"I am quite safe with the Beckes," she had assured him once, exasperated after he'd seated himself next to her at the church on Holy Day and had spent the whole service resting his arm on the bench behind her. It had unnerved Liesel so much at one point that Ely had been forced to call on him and have a very stern discussion about the appropriate way to treat a young woman that was not his wife.
Fridric had somehow gotten wind of the conversation, though it was meant to be private, and there had very nearly been a fistfight in the town square, which Liesel knew would not have ended well for Fridric. The only way she could think to prevent the inevitable duel was by announcing to everyone that she
was saving money for the journey back to her grandparents' home in Weit. It was a truth she had been hoping to keep to herself, as she knew it would pain the Beckes, but it did at least stop the fight. Since then, the two young men had backed off a little, but only just. Fridric still picked wildflowers for her daily, and Benat still made sure he had the seat next to her at every public event she attended.
"I wish the poor man would spend his time and flowers on another girl," Liesel shook her head. "I have told him a hundred times that I am not staying here." Ros sighed.
"I know. I just wish you would reconsider. We will miss you terribly when you're gone." Liesel drew the older woman up in a hug. She still missed Amala every day, but Ely and Ros Becke had been the healing her soul had needed after the brutal and abrupt deaths of her parents. Though she was technically the hired help, there was nothing the Beckes would not have done for her. It pained her to think about leaving them. Her only comfort was that the journey back to Weit was quite expensive, so saving up for it was taking a long time. Going back through the forest would have been more economical by far, but Liesel knew better than to even consider that route. Instead, she would take the long way home that went around the woods completely. For such a journey, she would need to save for at least another year. But thanks to the Beckes, that was just fine.
In a desperate attempt to distract her mistress from the sad conversation they seemed to have every day after Fridric's flowers arrived, she held up her basket of apples. Ros smiled as she pulled one out and felt it.
"Perfect for my pie! Let us begin, shall we?"
It wasn't until that evening that Liesel remembered the Wolfsbane conversation. Supper had been served. The pie was baked and sitting out to cool. Ely was sitting in his favorite chair making notes about a new herb he'd purchased from a foreign peddler. Ros, looking neat and proper as ever in her blue day dress, was sewing, and Liesel was seated on the floor between them using a mortar and pestle to crush dried herbs for Ely. She balked at asking about something as silly as a legend, but as much as she wanted to forget her past, the cries of the wolf she'd heard last night were too real for her to ignore.
"I have a question," she blurted out, not sure how else to begin such an assuredly awkward conversation. Ely looked over his spectacles and raised one eye.
"Yes?"
"I was at the market today, and I heard...I heard two women discussing Wolfsbane." Liesel didn't miss the exchange of glances between Ros and Ely as she spoke. She tried to make her voice sound jovial. "I know it's all just a legend, but they said it was time to put the Wolfsbane out when the wolves cried. If the people here believe it's just a legend, why do they still put it in front of their doors?" She laughed nervously. "I know it's just a story, of course. I'm just curious." Her trepidation grew, however, when Ros put her sewing down, and Ely removed his spectacles.
"Part of it is superstition," Ros began cautiously.
"But?"
"It's not entirely false, either." Liesel shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. "The Wolfsbane part is legend," Ros continued. "Wolves will enter any place they like, Wolfsbane or none. If a wolf wants something, the only way likely to stop him is through an arrow to the heart."
"How do you know that?" Liesel hoped her voice didn't sound as terrified as she felt, her heart beating faster than it had in a long time.
"From time to time, people move to a small town called Ward in the center of the forest," Ely said. "We've known several families who have made the move. But once they are in Ward, they never leave."
"But I've heard that visitors and peddlers like Gil travel through there often. Why are they allowed to leave while others can't?" Liesel knew the answer, but the Beckes didn't know that.
"There is a difference between stopping at an inn for the night and choosing a place like Ward to raise your family in." Ely shook his head, disgusted. "The fools ignore the warnings every time."
"None of them escape?" Liesel struggled to keep her voice even. "I mean, after moving there?"
"Not one has ever returned," he answered solemnly.
"I had a friend once who disappeared the last time they howled like this." Ros picked up her sewing again, but frowned at it now as she worked. "We were just young women then, a bit younger than you are now. Her mother had always loved the forest, but her father wanted to leave Tag. He was a restless sort of man. When a gentleman came to Tag to see if any of the men were interested in working in the mill, they left with him.
"We managed to send letters back and forth for a while by paying the grain masters, but I never saw her again." Ros's brown eyes grew more and more troubled as she spoke. "She wrote repeatedly that the village was strange. No one smiled at her, and only a few would even talk with her. Her mother died without warning. Just slipped away in her sleep one night. Her father died a year later in an accident while chopping firewood." Ros shook her head. "I remember the night of the last howling. It was much like last night. I had gotten my last letter from her a month before. She was planning on returning to Tag. Her uncle lived here, and she'd wanted to return to him. The poor man nearly went mad with grief when his sister died. When his niece never returned, he set off to Ward to find her. That was the last we ever saw of him." Liesel's mistress paused, pain etched into her handsome face. It was the closest to despair Liesel had ever seen her. "It would have been easier to lose her if I could have known she had at least one soul to turn to there."
Liesel felt as though her blood had turned to ice. It took all of her willpower not to tremble. Memories she had long ago buried were resurfacing faster than she could count them. She swallowed to steady her voice.
"But why are the grain masters, peddlers, and travelers allowed in and out of Ward if no one else can leave?" she asked again. "And how long has this been going on?"
"I asked a grain master once," Ros said. "He only said, 'People in Ward need grain and cloth like everyone else.' But that's all he would say, no matter how I pleaded to know." Liesel was about to ask another question, but Ely interrupted her, his lean face stoic.
"Liesel, we've been careful not to ask too much about where you came from. It was easy to see that you'd had trouble, and we didn't want to hurt you. But I am going to ask you something now, and you'd better tell us the truth. Did you come from Ward?" Liesel stared at him. For four years, she had hardly been able to utter the name of that wretched village. Finally, someone knew. Still unable to simply affirm his guess with a yes or no, she whispered,
"How did you know?"
"That night I found you pleading with Gil Gaspar in the Tavern, Gil had just come from Ward. I heard him tell one of his friends over the ale before we left." Liesel stared at Ely, unable to utter a word as he continued to unravel her secrets all by himself. "And to this day, Gil refuses to even look at you." Though she was still unable to speak it, Liesel felt relief well up within her as she stared at Ely. No one had ever guessed she'd come from Ward. Gil wouldn't talk about it, and she hadn't been able to bring herself to discuss it with anyone else. She had always wondered why none of the other townspeople had ever guessed she had come from Ward. Now that she knew its history, however, perhaps it was because no one ever had escaped Ward. She was the first.
"Liesel, what exactly happened there?" Ely's face was severe, but after living with the healer and his wife for four years, Liesel knew he was concerned for her, rather than angry. Liesel wet her lips and tried to tell them. Oh, she tried! But no matter how much she tried, no words would form in her mouth. She could only stare at them miserably.
"What about that scar?" Liesel looked down to see that she was rubbing the back of her hand again. And again, it was tingling.
"I wish I could tell you," she whimpered. It was a long moment as Ely and Ros studied her intensely. And as much as she wanted to tell them what they desired to know, her lips seemed to be sewn shut. Without warning, Ely stood up and stalked out of the room. A moment later, he returned with a small coin purse, one he kept hidden under a loose bo
ard in the staircase for times of need.
"How much do you have saved?" He asked. That, she could answer.
"Six hundred," she replied. Again, she reflected on how it would have been much cheaper to pay for a ride back through the forest, rather than around it. But she had decided long ago, that there was no way she was chancing a fortuitous meeting with a character from her past just to save some money. Without warning, the whole bag was shoved into her hands. Liesel gasped, but Ely shook his head.
"There should be enough in there to pay the rest of your way." Liesel began to protest, but Ros interrupted her.
"You know we would love nothing more than to keep you. But Ely is right. You cannot stay here. I don't know what happens in that awful place, but it reeks of evil." Her voice hitched at the end, and she suddenly remembered something she needed to do in the kitchen.
"You are leaving on the next caravan out. That should be in two days. Until then, you are not to leave the house at night. In fact, I want you to stay here as much as possible. You are only to leave if it is absolutely necessary."
Somehow, what had begun as a typical evening at home became Liesel's way of escape. Part of her was thrilled. After seven long years in the woods, she had only two days more. As she prepared for bed, she looked around her little room with a pang of sadness, however. It was simple, but she had felt at home from the moment she'd first stepped in. The walls were made of the same light wood as the sitting room, kitchen, and main bedroom downstairs. Her window faced the north, and through it, she could see the road that led out of the forest to the capitol city. The trees that lined the road were tall, but they were spaced enough to allow light in at all times of the day. Even now, as she looked up into the night, moonbeams fell through the trees and into her bedroom. Seeing the first sunlight through that window the morning after her wild ride with the peddler had been the first sign that Liesel would love Tag. The yellow bedcovers with the little purple flowers embroidered onto it had calmed her many times when the tears had threatened to come. The room had been her place of solace. It would be hard to leave it. It would be even harder to leave the ones that had given it to her.
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