Gamier was late getting home. We ate alone. I was both disappointed and relieved that Marie did not join us.
"He cried out for forgiveness," Gamier said, describing the hanging. "We told him to beg the Almighty Lord for mercy."
"Tell me," I said, watching the reflection of the candle flames in the side of my goblet, "how did you know this man was a werewolf?"
"He confessed."
"Convenient."
"Easier, yes," he said. He picked up a pheasant leg and began pulling off the meat. "We caught a werewolf in his wolf shape once. Someone shot him and he immediately became a man again. Injury sometimes makes them revert, but death always makes them become what they truly are—men who have strayed."
We ate in silence for several minutes. Then Gamier said, "I must excuse myself to listen to Marie's recitations of the holy word. Tomorrow we will go hunting."
"Yes, I look forward to that."
I sat in the near dark sipping my wine. I shrugged away visions of the hanged man, and instead thought of Marie by the fire. How could Gar- nier see the mark of the beast on her? She seemed to be an innocent. Only a girl.
Suddenly, I heard shouts. A moment later, I heard muffled sobs. Raynie ran past the dining room. I followed her into the passageway. She stood near the closed doors with her head in her hands. Garnier's shouts grew louder. Raynie looked up at me.
"Is he hurting her?" I asked.
"Do you mean is he beating her? No, he does not touch her." She moved toward me with sudden familiarity. I stepped back. "He never touches her. He pretends he has no desires, yet he leaves her several nights a week for his whores. When he returns, he is more brutal than ever because they could not satisfy him." Her eyes were intense. "You saw her. You know the only beast in her is the one he will bring out!"
I backed up against the wall. Did this woman know I had been watching them? Did she know I had seen her naked mistress? I felt hot and ashamed.
"He pushes her as only a monster would," she said.
The doors flew open. Raynie disappeared around a corner. Gamier strode by me. When the sound of his footsteps had faded, I went into the room. Marie was by the fire. At first I thought she was stretched in front of the flames, languishing like a cat before the heat. Then I realized she was sobbing. I knelt next to her. Without looking at me, she moved closer. I reached out to touch her.
Raynie came in then. I dropped my outstretched hand and moved out of the way as she took Marie in her arms. I hurriedly left the room and went upstairs. I lay in bed, sleepless, wondering what I could do to help Mme. Gamier.
The next morning, Gamier was out behind the chateau examining his roses when I came downstairs.
"There you are," he called as I walked across the lawn toward him. "Did you eat? I must apologize for last night. I’m afraid Marie is not a very obedient girl, but we should not have quarreled with guests in the house. It is the influence of that old Gypsy." He bent slightly and broke off a rose blossom from its bush. "Not quite the right shade of red." He tossed away the flower. "So I sent the woman back to her Gypsies. She left this morning before Marie awakened. I thought it would be easier that way."
A scream interrupted our conversation. The scream became a wail.
"Excuse me," Gamier said. "My wife has awakened and discovered her loss." He walked toward the chateau.
I picked up the rose blossom he had cast aside and pocketed it. I waited several minutes to see if my host would return. I wanted desperately to run inside to see if Marie was well. Instead, I listened to the surrounding forest. The voices of the birds and insects seemed to blend together in a peculiar soothing song. After a while, I realized the animal world was being accompanied by the tinkling tones of a harpsichord. I followed the sound around the chateau and in through the front door. I walked down the corridor until I reached the room where Marie and Gamier had argued the night before. Now, Gamier sat in a chair near the fire with a curious smile on his lips. By the window, Marie sat at the harpsichord. She stared ahead without expression, yet I sensed she was in agony. Each note brought a tear to her eye that would tip over to her cheek and down her face until it disappeared onto the instrument; for a moment, I was certain her tears were bringing the song to our ears rather than her fingers.
"Is this not pleasant?" Gamier asked. "Please, join us."
Reluctantly, I sat in a chair by the door. As I watched Marie and listened to each high note, I was reminded of my night in the forest and the cry of the lonely wolf howling to an empty sky. I longed to take Marie in my arms and stroke her lovely hair and ease her pain. I had to act somehow; I could no longer stand by and watch this innocent be so cruelly treated. I stood.
"That is enough, Marie," Gamier said abruptly "It was lovely." His tone was conciliatory. "Rieux and I will go hunting now. Will you join us for supper later?"
Marie smiled, her tears gone. "Of course," she said. "Enjoy your afternoon."
"Come, young man," Gamier said. I glanced at Marie. She was still smiling. Perhaps I had imagined the tears.
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We had bagged several quail and pheasant by midday. At that time, we stopped along a stream to eat the bread and cheese we had brought. Gamier was friendly, yet I found it increasingly difficult to hold my tongue regarding his treatment of his wife.
"You think I am cruel," he said quite unexpectedly. "Well, you do not understand women." He laughed. "Perhaps you do. You have never married, have you?"
I shook my head.
"Marie . . . there are things about her you do not know. Ways she makes people feel." He tore off a chunk of bread from the loaf. "You are my friend's son, so I will caution you. I can tell she has caught your fancy. Do not be left alone with her. She will try to seduce you."
"M. Gamier!" I cried. "She is your wife. Must you speak of her so? Must you assume that I would allow myself to be seduced?" I stood and began pacing the banks of the stream. "Perhaps I have come at a bad time. I will leave tomorrow."
"My friend Rieux will be displeased if you leave with this impression of me," Gamier said. "I wish you would stay a while longer."
I did not want to offend my father's friend, although I was certain my father would be shocked by Garnier's manner. I sighed. "I will stay another day and night, and then I really must return home," I said. "Now, shall we continue on our way?"
We remained in the forest until mid-afternoon and then we returned to the chateau, hot and tired from our excursion. We gave the game bags to the kitchen staff and then went our separate ways for a rest. I lay in the cool darkness of my room and wished I could say something to Gamier which would change his attitude toward Marie. Perhaps he was right, I thought as I closed my eyes. Perhaps I was merely captivated by a young girl who was trying to entice me. No, I turned onto my stomach; Marie was merely attempting to save herself from a loveless man.
I drifted into sleep. I dreamed Marie came into my chamber. She put her small hand on mine. I kissed the tiny heart-shaped ring on her smallest finger.
"You can save me," she whispered. She lay next to me on the bed, naked except for some kind of sheer garment which covered her entire body.
"Save me," she whispered.
I reached for her.
Gamier shook me awake. I sat up quickly and looked around. Marie was not there. I sighed, relieved.
"A man was torn to pieces outside the village," Gamier said. "They are certain it was a man-wolf. We're going hunting."
I hurried downstairs with Garnier. Outside, in the near night, several men waited, torches held high. Dusk? Apparently I had slept for hours.
"Stay in pairs," Garnier called. "Shoot to kill."
I glanced back at the house as we started toward the forest. Marie stood in the music room, looking out at us. I felt her hand on my arm once again, heard her pleas. "Save me." I stepped into the forest and followed the light of Garnier's torch.
The men talked loudly. Garnier's face was alight with the joy of an adventure, or lust for the kill.
I remembered too well my hours of wandering alone in this forest. I did not look forward to meeting a wolf, werewolf or otherwise. As we went further into the forest, we broke up into pairs. Garnier and I walked in silence. Once we heard the cry of a wolf coming from a great distance. An owl talked to us as we passed by it. A full moon ascended. And still we walked.
Suddenly, when the forest was completely silent, when I could hear only the breathing of my companion, something huge and black leaped out of the darkness, howling as it knocked Garnier to the ground. Gar- nier screamed. I heard bones crunch, like a chicken leg being snapped, as the beast closed its jaws around Garnier's arm. I jumped on the animal and tried to pull it off Gamier. It shook me away easily, but the effort caused it to release Gamier. Then it turned on me. I smelled blood on its breath. Gamier struggled to reach his musket. Using its huge black head, the beast rammed me up against a tree. Then it attacked Gamier again, furiously, enraged, it seemed. I saw a flash of moonlight on steel. The animal screamed in agony and then it was gone, disappearing into the darkness.
I dropped onto the ground next to Gamier.
"Are you injured?" I asked. I still smelled blood.
"Yes, my arm is broken. But I've got a prize!" He held up something in the darkness which I could not quite see. "I sliced off a piece of its devil's paw." He dropped the thing into his game bag.
"I'll take you back to the chateau," I said. "Can someone there attend to your wounds?"
"Yes," he answered, his breathing ragged.
I picked up the smoldering torch, the muskets, and the game bags.
"Come. Lean on me," I told him.
The journey back to the chateau was a long one. Gamier was hardly alert enough to give directions. We met no other men, though we heard shots in the distance several times. Every sound in the forest was now a warning to me that the beast was returning. I longed for Marie's guiding hand.
Finally, we stood on the moonlit lawn of the chateau. Gamier collapsed. I ran to the house and awakened the servants. Within minutes, they had carried their master up to his rooms and were seeing to his wounds. I picked up the game bags and muskets and took them into the house.
The stench of blood on my own clothes was sickening, so I returned to my bed chamber to retrieve other garments. I dropped the soiled clothes into a corner and put on fresh ones. Then I sat on the bed and opened the game bag to get a look at the severed paw of the monster who had attacked us.
I tilted the bag toward the light. In a pool of black blood there lay not a paw of some unknown beast but two fingers from a human hand. I threw down the bag and quickly moved away from it. Two small fingers: one with a tiny heart-shaped ring on it.
I felt ill. "Save me," she had begged in my dream. "The only beast in her is the one Gamier will bring out," Raynie had said.
I picked up the bag and left the room. Quietly, I went up several flights of stairs and down the corridor until I found Marie's room again. She lay on her bed, her eyes closed, her face ashen. Her left hand was wrapped in gauze. Raynie stood at her side.
I held out the bag to Raynie. She came to me and looked into the bag. She shook her head.
"She doesn't know what happened," Raynie said. "It's never happened before, but I was afraid it would. That's why I came back."
"I don't believe you," I said. "Garnier said a man was killed earlier today by a werewolf."
"It was not her," Raynie said. "Please, she was driven to it! He married her and then did not love her. It was cruel."
"He was right all along," I said. "She does have the mark of the beast on her."
"And the beast is M. Garnier!" she cried. Marie moaned. Raynie went to her and stroked her arm. "You cannot tell anyone of this," she said. "They will kill her. First they will torture her and then kill her! Please, you cannot tell them!"
"Garnier will find out," I said. "He will see the ring. He will see her hand!"
"Raynie?" Marie whispered. "It hurts."
"I know, child," she said. "Shhh." She moved away from the girl and touched my arm. "She is in great pain. I must return to the caravan and get some medicine for her. Can you stay with her?"
I heard the snarls of the beast, smelled the blood again. I gazed at Marie. How could they be one and the same?
"I will stay," I said.
Raynie went back to Marie and leaned over her. "M. Rieux will stay with you while I'm gone. I will return before morning."
She kissed the girl's forehead and then she left. I sat in a chair near the bed.
Marie's eyes were closed as she reached for me. Her fingers curled around mine. "Save me," she whispered. "Please."
"Rest," I said. "You are safe."
As the candle burned down and the moon moved across the sky, I waited for Raynie with Marie's hand in mine. Near the end of the night, I fell asleep. I awakened to find Garnier bent over his game bag. His right arm was wrapped and tied to his neck. He looked at me with a self-satisfied smile.
I gently pried Marie's fingers from my own.
"It was Marie who tried to kill me," Garnier said.
"Be quiet," I said, coming toward him. "You'll wake her. Shouldn't you be resting?" I put my hand on his arm to lead him away. He shook me off and stepped closer to the bed. I moved in front of him.
"This is none of your concern," he said, looking beyond me.
"You made it my concern," I said.
"I will report it to the council tomorrow," he said. "She will be executed."
"And that certainty does not trouble you?" I asked.
He looked at me. "No," he said. "She has troubled my sleep with her lustful longings, she has troubled my waking hours with her lustful looks. She should have died in that forest with her parents. It would have been easier."
"Easier for whom? She only wanted your affection," I said. "You are her husband!"
"She will die for this." He turned and strode from the room. I hurried after him.
"Garnier," I called. "Please, stop." I caught up with him at the top of the stairs. "You mustn't do this. Have you no feeling for her?"
"I feel her teeth in my arm," Garnier said. "Now leave be." He turned. I grabbed his arm. As he pulled away, he lost his balance. I tried to catch him, but he fell away from me and tumbled down the stairs. Seconds later, he lay at the bottom of the stairs, his head askew, both arms flung out at odd angles. I ran down to him. As I knelt by him, he sighed once and then was still.
"Louis?"
I looked up. Marie was at the top of the stairs. I raced up to her and put my arms around her.
"Don't look," I said. "It was an accident."
"He's dead?" she asked.
"Yes." She fell against me. She felt like a child in my arms. "It will be all right," I said.
Someone screamed. I looked toward the sound. At the bottom of the stairs, one of the servants stood. She held her fist in her mouth as she gazed at her master. I gasped. Where Garnier had been, there was now the huge mangled body of some beast which resembled a wolf.
"My God," I whispered.
Raynie was at my elbow, taking Marie away from me.
"We all become what we truly are in death," Raynie said. "He did not love her well."
Marie leaned heavily on Raynie as they went back to her room. "I have brought something to ease your pain," Raynie whispered.
▼▼▼
I buried the wolf, Marie's two fingers, and the heart-shaped ring all in one grave before sunrise. I knew Garnier's relatives would descend upon Marie and the chateau as soon as they learned of his death. Marie said she wanted to leave with Raynie. I gave them my horse so no charge of theft could be brought against them. Marie and I said our farewells at dawn. I took her wounded child's hand in mine and kissed it.
"I am sorry," I whispered.
She squeezed my fingers. "Thank you," she said. She released my hand, and the women rode off to join the Gypsies. That was the last time I saw Marie. The story was later told that M. Gamier had been killed by a werewolf, and the a
ttack had left him bloodied, battered, and changed; Mme. Gamier had returned to her people.
I traveled back to my father's house.
Months later, I met a woman called Joy who reminded me of bright days and laughter beyond all earthly considerations. We married. When we had children, I held them close and stroked their fine golden hair and told them they were jewels of inestimable value. I often dreamed of Marie and Gamier. I would awaken cold and sweaty, afraid of the darkness and the beasts within. One night when I awakened in terror, I told my wife about the dreams. She kissed me and pulled me out of bed. "Dance with the beasts," she said. "Don't be frightened by them." We laughed and danced together in a shaft of silver moonlight that fell across our floor.
Afterward, the dreams stopped. From that time forward, when I thought of Marie, I imagined her dancing in the arms of someone who knew how to embrace the beast and love her well.
AT WAR WITH THE WOLF MAN
Jerome Charyn
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IhE mayor was going out of her mind. She didn't need another Wolf Man scare. Tourism was down thirteen percent. Manhattan was becoming a ghost town toward midnight. If this Wolf Man continued to strike with such alarming regularity, then Her Honor would have to go into the street and sing love songs to a vanishing New York. The first Wolf Man had added a festive touch to the city. He was a starving actor who wore a crazy mask and bit women on the neck without leaving a hint of blood. He came and went with the holiday season. But the new Wolf Man made his own seasons. He had claws and big yellow teeth and ran away with enormous pieces of flesh. Surgeons had to sew people together after the Wolf Man struck. Whatever witnesses there were claimed he had the clearest blue eyes under a great maw of fur, a kind of whisker that extended to his forehead like some extraordinary foliage. The blue eyes were intelligent. But the Wolf Man clawed without mercy. Nineteen men and women lay in the hospital because of him. Half were lingering in a life-support system, the eyes all yellow, the faces like waxen masks.
The Ultimate Werewolf Page 10