by Arial Burnz
Broderick drew his sword. “Your battle is with me, beast!”
The woman collapsed to the ground, fainting and dropping her lantern. The wolfman spun to face Broderick and lunged with a roar. With little time to defend, Rick leapt to the side and slashed with his sword as he tumbled to the ground. He sprang to his feet just as the animal hurdled a felled tree, leaping into the air. Ducking, he shouldered the werewolf’s underside and flipped it over his back, twirling to face it with sword at the ready. But the creature had crashed through the brush and disappeared into the darkness, its retreating footsteps fading in the distance. He stood still, ears inclined toward the retreating animal, waiting to see if it would circle around for another attack. Blood dripped from his sword. At least he had wounded it.
A puff and crackle drew his attention to the woman lying on the ground. Her lantern had caught fire to some leaves. Broderick righted the lamp, still lit, and stomped out the flames on the ground. Sheathing his sword, he knelt beside her and blotted the blood at her temple with his kerchief. Since he hadn’t yet fed, he exerted extra effort to keep The Hunger at bay.
She stirred, then sat upright, scrambling back and clutching her hand to her throat.
“All is well, lass.” The corner of Broderick’s mouth turned up in a grin he hoped would calm and reassure her.
Her eyes darted about the forest, flitting back and forth between him and the towering trees. “Did you see it? Where did it go?”
“You’re safe now.”
“You!” She groaned and clutched her head.
Broderick handed her his kerchief.
“How did you…? It was huge! How could you have…?” She pressed the cloth to her head and winced.
Broderick rose, offering her his hand. “The beastie was easily startled. I’m glad I came upon you when I did.”
“God be praised you were here!” She clutched his hand and staggered to her feet with his assistance. A foreboding settled over her face and she placed trembling fingers to her cheeks. “It’s returned.” She gasped. “Analise!” She snatched her shawl and lantern from the ground and ran through the trees toward the road, Broderick close on her heels.
“Now doncha be running off!” He grabbed her elbow and pulled her up short.
“My daughter Analise and her husband. I have to warn them.” She pointed down the road. The moon illuminated a small cottage nestled in the trees by a modest farm. “They’re just over there!”
“All right, now. Calm down. I’ll go with you.”
She hastened down the road, grasping her skirts in one hand, her outstretched lantern leading the way.
Broderick surveyed the open land once they’d cleared the trees. The empty field, surrounded by a piled-stone wall, smelled of fresh tilled earth. A faint sweet tang of blood drifted through the air, but it was too subtle determine its source and it wasn’t from the woman who walked ahead of him. No sign of the werewolf, nor could he smell its foul presence.
“Hurry!” She rushed through the front fence and up to the door, pounding against the worn planks. “Analise! Brynner!”
The door flung open and the scent of blood assaulted Broderick’s nose. A young blonde woman gasped and threw her arms around Broderick’s companion. “Thank God, you’re safe!” The blonde sobbed. “It’s Brynner.”
Sitting at the table, in the middle of the common room of the farmhouse, was a stout young man clutching his forearm wrapped in a bloodied cloth. A fire burned brightly in the hearth, illuminating the grimace on his face. Brynner bared his teeth and shivered. “The damned thing bit me, Johanna.”
“Oh, no!” The older woman rushed forward to assess the wound and Analise wept into her hands.
Broderick turned away so they wouldn’t see the silver core of his eyes, glowing from The Hunger. “You stay here and bar the door. I’ll look around to see if the creature is still about.”
Not waiting for their approval, he ran around the back of the house and tarried only until he was inside the forest before he used his immortal speed to dash through the trees and scout the surrounding acreage. What had he stumbled upon in this part of the world? Witch trials. Werewolves. His wife reborn into another body. All these decades, Broderick had kept to his family, his only concern protecting and loving them until time stole them away. Malloren Rune had been the only other bizarre connection to the supernatural outside of Vamsyrians. Well, other than one chance meeting with a werewolf over thirty years ago. His shoulder always ached with sympathy when he thought of the attack and he rubbed it now while he continued to survey the grounds.
He now had control over The Hunger and sniffed the air once more. No trace of the werewolf. No tracks on the earth. No blood on the wind. The creature had vanished. However, Broderick knew it was not the same werewolf he’d encountered the night he arrived in Kostbar. This one had a black pelt. Damn! Not one, but two to worry about. However, the first one might have actually been Monika’s father. Still, if there were two, there might even be more. Malloren had said he was in werewolf territory. He cursed under his breath. At least he’d been able to get the wolfsbane painted around his ship.
He dashed back to the farmhouse. Analise clutched her husband’s head to her bosom, tears staining her cheeks. Johanna stood and faced Broderick. “Did you find it?”
He shook his head. “How does he fare?”
“I’ve been bitten,” Brynner grumbled. “How do you think I fare?”
Analise cried harder. I’ve lost him! God, why would you take my heart from me?
Broderick didn’t know what to say and he fought the tears threatening to come forth, so immersed in the sorrow saturating this home. Until he was sure Monika had the cure, he didn’t want to raise any hopes. Malloren said she was searching for the cure…not that she’d found it. Perhaps the answers were in the book they both saw in the dreams and visions. “I’m sorry.” An awkward silence hung thick like moisture in the air. He was useless to these people now. “I am heading back to the village,” he whispered and turned to leave.
“May I accompany you?” Johanna grabbed her shawl and threw it over her shoulders.
“Of course.”
“Mama, no.”
She hugged Analise, then framed her daughter’s face with her palms. “I have to warn the others. Be strong. Be strong.”
The young woman nodded and her bottom lip trembled. “Yes, Mama.”
Johanna gripped Brynner’s shoulder. “You have a fortnight, son.”
Brynner clenched his jaw, tears spilling down his cheeks, but he nodded and turned his red-rimmed gaze to his wife. The couple fell into each other’s arms and wept.
Broderick stepped out of the house, curling his fingers into fists, and paced while the older woman grabbed her lantern and closed the door behind her.
Once they traversed the short distance to the road, they fell into step beside one another.
“I am Frau Hafner.”
“Broderick MacDougal.” He frowned. “Your daughter or son?”
“My daughter and son-in-law.” Why, God? Why?
How many times had Broderick asked that same question? “You said, ‘It’s returned.’ This has happened before, I assume.”
She nodded. “Ten years ago. That incident has haunted this village for years and Analise and Brynner know the tales well.”
“Is the healer able to help at all?”
“I certainly hope so.” A sad smile graced her lips. “Monika Konrads may be Brynner’s only hope. There was a rash of werewolf attacks. Monika’s mother Katrina had a very secretive client seeking her skills. Some say he was looking for the cure, and he was the werewolf terrorizing the village. Then he just disappeared. A month later, Monika’s cottage burned down. Monika’s father Symon was burned pretty badly. He’d told us precious little Monika had tried to drag her mother from the flames, but she was too late. By some miracle, Monika hadn’t even been burned.” Johanna shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. Dear Lord, please let her have th
e answers.
They walked in silence for the last stretch of road to the village and Johanna went straight to Monika’s cottage. She rapped on the wood.
The door swung wide and Monika’s face lit with the radiance of the sun when her eyes fell upon Broderick. Her gleaming smile soon melted into a frown when she regarded both of their faces. “Johanna…what’s wrong?”
“There’s been an attack,” she responded, her voice thick with sorrow.
“Oh, no. Who? What happened?” Monika ushered Johanna inside and pulled a chair from the table for Johanna. With the boundary still up around her house, Broderick stood just outside the door.
“Child…I…” She clasped Monika’s hands.
Monika nodded. “I heard the howl. I know.” He will burn for this.
Broderick noted the determined set of Monika’s jaw, the cold blue steel of her eyes, which she’d turned to him momentarily before diverting her attention back to Johanna.
“Brynner,” the older woman managed to choke out before she broke into sobs.
Not Brynner! She wrapped her friend in her embrace and they rocked together in their grief.
“Please tell me you continued your mother’s work.” Johanna clutched Monika’s shoulders. “Did you ever find the book?”
“Actually, yes. Only just yesterday.”
“What?” The older woman searched Monika with hope in her wide eyes.
Broderick crossed his arms, a silent observer.
“Honestly, I cannot promise you a cure at this time, though I am working very hard to find the answers. I just don’t know if and when that will happen. We need to keep Brynner safe from others and from himself until then.”
Broderick stepped forward. “Can we build a safe room?”
The women turned their eyes to him.
“I don’t mean to imply we put him in a cage, but if we can create a strong room where he can’t escape when he transforms, mayhap even paint it with a wolfsbane infusion, perhaps that will keep him and other’s safe.”
“What a wonderful idea.” Monika squeezed Johanna’s hand, her full lips curling into a hopeful smile. “Helmut would be the one to organize such a task.”
“Yes! I’ll speak to him right away.” She leaned forward and kissed Monika’s cheek before scampering to the door. She stopped and faced Broderick. “Thank you, Herr MacDougal. For everything.”
He nodded and tried to offer a reassuring grin.
When Johanna left, Monika regarded him with her sapphire eyes, glassed with tears. It was enough to cinch his heart. “I don’t suppose you’ll come inside if I ask?”
Broderick opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. He studied her doorway, then smirked.
She sighed and chuckled. “Very well.” Monika joined him outside and they strolled to the bench by the well. “What happened?”
“I was returning to the village when I heard the howl and then a scream.” Broderick propped his right boot onto the bench. “I rushed to find the beast ready to pounce on Frau Hafner. Luckily it was easy to scare away.”
She cocked an eyebrow. Easy to scare away, huh? I wonder.
Broderick resisted the urge to grin with pride. Nothing goes unnoticed by this woman. “When we went to check on her daughter, we’d learned Brynner had been attacked.” He shook his head. “I can only guess he must have gone looking for his mother-in-law when they heard the howl, too.”
Monika bit her trembling lip and hugged her midsection as she sat on the bench. “He’s like a brother to me. Analise, a sister. We all grew up together.”
“What can I do to help?”
A dejected laugh fluttered from her and she raked her fingers through her hair, swiping the kerchief from her head and bundling it in her lap. “I don’t know that you can. I don’t really know if there’s anything I can do.”
“You both spoke of a cure.” He relayed the information Frau Hafner shared with him on their walk into the village. “What else do you need for this recipe you mentioned? Is money an issue? Are the ingredients difficult to find?”
She sighed and shook her head. “That’s my quandary. Right now, the recipe is incomplete. A man named Thomas Carr came into Vollstadt the other day with my mother’s book, something my grandmother and I thought had been lost in the fire Frau Hafner told you about.” Monika told Broderick about Thomas’s story and her recent efforts. All the while, anger emanated from her body like the heat from a hearth and radiated across the space between them. “But I have to finish transcribing the pages before he’ll give me the book. As I’m doing so, I’m learning the steps my mother took in her efforts to find the cure.”
“Tell me where to find the blackguard and I will get the book for you.”
Husky laughter shook her shoulders and she gifted him with an endearing smile. “I am flattered you would champion my cause so soon after our brief meeting. I only have one or two more days of transcriptions, I’m sure. I should be able to get the book soon.”
Broderick clenched his jaw. “Mayhap he is the one who attacked Brynner.”
She leveled her gaze at him. “I am certain of it.”
Chapter Eight
A rising murmur of voices filled the courtyard as a small crowd rounded the corner, coming from the path Monika and Broderick had taken to the kitchen house the night before. A large, muscular man with a leather apron was at the front and, when he reached the blacksmith shop, he faced the gathering crowd and waved his arms. “Now, now! I can do my best to get this strong room built as fast as I can, but such a thing is going to take a lot of materials and a lot of work. You have to give me some time! And I’ll need help.”
Broderick nodded to Monika and they both walked over to the crowd. “What can I do to help, Herr Schmied?” he voiced over the rising protests.
The crowd fell silent and Helmut narrowed his eyes. “And who might you be, stranger?”
“This is Herr MacDougal,” Monika explained. “He’s a man of means and purpose. He can aid our cause.”
“Do you have men?” Helmut asked.
“There seems to be plenty of able bodies right here,” Broderick responded. “Mayhap—”
“We have our own families to tend to!” a man’s voice protested from the group.
“As I was about to suggest,” Broderick interjected. “I will pay silver to whoever volunteers their labor for the task.”
The villagers murmured nodding but also shaking their heads, some seemingly divided, others willing. Others were suspicious. The mixture of emotions whirling about the crowd pressed in upon Broderick.
“Why would you, a stranger, pay silver to trap a werewolf?” An elderly man pushed through the people and stood before Broderick with a walking stick.
“Nikolaus,” Monika scolded. “We’re not trying to trap Brynner. We’re trying to keep him and all of us safe.”
“He’s a beast that needs to be caged!” Nikolaus protested and waved his stick.
Broderick redirected the conversation back to the topic at hand. “I understand why you would question my involvement. I am a stranger, but I am hoping to settle in this area and call Kostbar my home. As such, I will defend this village as if it were my own. I know I need to gain your trust, but perhaps my contribution will speak for my intentions.”
“But once Brynner is safe,” Helmut said. “What about the rest of us? The werewolf that bit Brynner is still roaming free!”
The villagers raised their voices in agreement.
“Please listen to me.” Monika stood on tiptoe and waved to get their attention. They lowered their voices. “Many of you know my mother was working on a cure for the werewolf curse before she died. I have just recently found my mother’s book.” She raised her voice to speak over the increasing rumble of comments. “I might be able to find a cure before the next cycle of the moon.”
“Might?” Nikolaus barked. “We are putting our trust in might. We must organize a hunting party and find that werewolf!”
“Do you hear what
you’re saying?” Edda shoved through the bodies. “Katrina was my best friend and I was there to help her through that horrible time. These were our friends, our family. Many of them died in her arms.” She cast an apologetic gaze to Monika. “We can’t let fear drive us to this. We survived the mercenaries because we joined together and helped each other. This is no different.”
“But we have no defense against a creature from hell,” Nikolaus argued.
“I supposed you had armor and swords and shields to defend your village against the mercenaries. Is that correct?” Broderick asked.
Nikolaus frowned.
“And your homes, they kept you all safe against the strength and torches of those soldiers. Am I right?” These were farmers, potters and bakers…not warriors.
“You weren’t here, young man!” the old man growled. “What do you know of war?”
“I’m older than I look.” He began unbuttoning his doublet. “I mean no disrespect, but I’ve been in several clan wars back in my homeland.” Broderick handed Monika his baldric, sword and doublet, then pulled his shirt over his head and turned full circle, catching Monika’s stunned expression as he did so. “And I have the scars to prove it.” Immortality did not erase the marks he bore before he transformed into a Vamsyrian. Those were forever branded across his skin.
The color leeched from Nikolaus’s face and he nodded. “Sweet Lord in heaven, boy.” He gazed at Broderick with regret.
“I don’t carry a sword for appearance’s sake.” Broderick patted the old man on the shoulder and slipped his shirt back over his head. Many peered around each other to see Broderick’s sword, which he retrieved from Monika. Edda’s eldest boy gawked and smiled.
“There is one thing you didn’t have ten years ago. Someone experienced with supernatural creatures. And two things you didn’t have when the mercenaries ravaged your town. One experienced in combat and the resources to protect you. I offer you all these.” He stepped next to Monika, still holding his doublet, and put his arm around her. “Fräulein Konrads has the means to make your homes safe against werewolves. She created a wolfsbane infusion for me last evening and, with a little help, I’m sure she can create enough for all of you.” He gazed down at her sapphire eyes, which gleamed with appreciation.