Werewolves of Wessex

by J Cameron Boyd

  She gathered her skirts, stepped over the bench she had been seated at, and marched up to the head table. They had all finished their meals even though she had not. The men of the table stood, and her father signaled that she was to follow as they left the dining hall.

  ***

  They were in the woods before Waltheof spoke to his daughter. He cleared his throat, uncertain as to how to begin. Claire looked up at him and waited.

  “As you know,” he began, his pace slowing considerably, “your sister is to be married on the solstice.”

  That got Claire’s attention. There was only one reason her father would mention this. At fifteen years old, Claire should have been married off by now. But her older sister had to come first, and Maud … well, Maud was Maud, and that explained the delay.

  But now, with everything arranged … and with this handsome stranger in the keep … “Oh no!” Claire gasped. She was not sure whether she was dismayed or excited. He was the best prospect that she had seen … but what happened last night? She had not had time to sort out all that had taken place. Her feet faltered as she looked up at her father.

  Waltheof stopped and turned to his wide-eyed daughter. “Claire,” he said with a soothing smile, “It’s not what you think.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, daughter. Nevertheless, it will greatly change what your life could have been.”

  “What will?”

  “Last night you were told to remain inside the keep. If you had, things would have turned out differently. But now …”

  “Father, it was Maud’s idea!” Claire lied, shaken by her father’s ominous words.

  “One that you planted in her mind, no doubt.” Her father was still smiling. “My purpose is not to punish you, daughter. I am just trying to explain.”

  Claire shook her head. “Explain?”

  “Last night you witnessed what you shouldn’t have. Yet, unlike your sister, all of the night’s experiences have remained clear to you. Most would not be able to do that.” Waltheof looked at her sadly. “That mind of yours …” He shook his head. “I have always known you were different … smarter. But now I have been told that you also have the ability to send and receive mental pictures.”

  “I … I didn’t …”

  “I know, child. But it happened. And that, I’m afraid, makes you exceptional.”

  “But I won’t do it again,” Claire pleaded, now sure that something horrible was about to happen.

  “Daughter, your intelligence and capacity for acceptance of things beyond the scope of others is not a bad thing. It just means you are a step ahead of most of us.”

  “No, Father! Really, I’m no different than Maud.”

  “Have you asked her about last night?”

  Claire nodded.

  “And did she remember as you do?”

  Claire sadly shook her head.

  “That, Claire, is what I am trying to explain. We all have a potential to be more, and most never even get close to what that potential is. You are much closer to yours than most.” Waltheof heaved a big sigh. “And now, it seems your abilities are no longer a secret.”

  Chapter 5

  The father and daughter stroll that, for a while, Claire thought was special, started to feel like the walk a condemned man makes with his priest on his way to the gallows. Only the punishment she was to receive came from her abilities to do things well, not what she did wrong.

  Her father speaking about how her life was going to change, made Claire feel apprehensive enough, but when they met up with her grandfather and Jorunn Thora at the end of the forest trail, she knew that she did not want to hear what they had to say. Her grandfather, for the first time in Claire’s life, looked like a man resigned to an unwanted inevitable. And Jorunn, the man that had so stirringly caught her eye when she first saw him, she now wanted nothing to do with.

  “Ah, Claire,” Siward greeted her.

  Claire wanted to run. Instead, she nodded to her grandfather as she and her father joined the two men.

  Siward glanced back at Jorunn, then took his granddaughter by the hand and led her over to a nearby log where he sat down with her. As her father and Jorunn sat on the grass facing them, her grandfather began speaking.

  It felt to Claire as if someone was squeezing her chest. Was that the reason she was having trouble grasping what her grandfather was telling her? Words like special, potential, and different floated past her until something he said shook her to the core. She was being exiled to Wessex!

  Of course, they did not call it that. They tried to soften the blow with words like learning, developing, and having the appropriate teacher.

  “Claire,” Jorunn said, “there are greater threats to people than disease, injury, and other people … Take last night for example … Last night I was not hunting wolves. I was tracking monsters.”

  Her grandfather, seeing the stunned look on Claire’s face, tried to clarify that for her. “What you and Maud saw last night was a half human, half wolf abomination. Each of those monsters holds a trapped soul within their loathsome bodies. When Jorunn cut the heads off those monsters, that released the trapped soul. That’s the explosion you saw … the soul being released.” Siward watched Claire closely to see how she was taking all of this.

  Claire felt like her head was floating somewhere above a body she could not feel. If she had not seen it for herself, she would have scoffed at what she was being told. But, she had seen it—twice.

  ‘Maud saw the same thing,’ Claire thought. ‘only she forgot what we both saw. You would think that would make her the unusual one. But no … I remember what happened, and because of that, I’m considered the freak and am getting sent away. It’s all befuddling and not fair!’

  “Claire,” Jorunn Thora began softly. “People are usually governed by their beliefs—beliefs that determine what they are able to sense and the meaning they give to what they sense. Most people only experience what they can find a way to believe. Something can happen right in front of them, and if it is beyond their belief system, their mind won’t even register that it has happened. Or their mind will turn it into an entirely different event that they can believe. Within a short time, it can be gone from a person’s consciousness as if it had never happened.”

  “Then Maud wasn’t lying,” Claire said. “It’s just that what we witnessed was beyond her ability to accept?”

  Jorunn nodded at her solemnly. “Your ability to remember precisely what you saw makes you unusual. But that in and of itself, would not create a big stir. What this gathering is really about is what you did as you saw the monsters about to ambush me.”

  “That wasn’t me!” Claire insisted. “I didn’t do anything. My only thought was that I wanted you to be safe ... I didn’t do anything,” she declared again.

  “Claire, not only did you keep me from a nasty surprise, but the projection you sent came with an efficiency that only those well-practiced in the art can deliver. The thank you I sent back was received with the same degree of skill.”

  ‘So, I heard him. Why is that so important?’ Claire grumbled to herself.

  “It is important,” Jorunn replied.

  “You heard that!” Claire gasped.

  “That I did, Claire,” Jorunn said. “And it is something I expect that you will be doing soon.”

  “Claire,” her grandfather added, “ever since you were a tiny baby, you showed signs of being able to, not only understand the world around you, but you could use your mind in ways that almost no one has. That’s why I’ve always talked to you about the power struggles of the nobles and what it takes to keep our world intact around us. But Jorunn is someone that can help you unleash and direct your mind’s power. He also knows someone with whom you can apprentice.”

  ***

  The Earl of Northumbria often spoke to his granddaughter about the political environment they lived in. They had a very special relationship, and their discussions often helped Siward make decisions abo
ut the running of his lands, and who to side with in the power-hungry world of the nobles. But now, at the word of a man she had just met, Siward was shipping her off to the family of an old enemy.

  Fourteen years ago, Siward had gone to war against Godwine, the Earl of Wessex. Godwine had sought to take the crown, and if it had not been for Siward, he would have. Godwine had been exiled after that, but Harold, his son, managed to quickly bring him back to Wessex. Harold’s wife was Edyth the Fair. It was with Edyth that Claire was to apprentice.

  After finding out from her grandfather that she was to head south with Jorunn the following day, Claire could think only of the knot in her stomach and the grief in her heart. The day was filled with goodbyes and tears as word spread that Claire was leaving.

  The next morning, Claire found herself on the seat of a wagon next to the man that, only a couple of days ago, she had been almost smitten with. Now it was the last place she wanted to be.

  “Why, Edyth?” she suddenly demanded. Her sadness had bubbled over to anger, and now she wanted answers. She was sure this man, who was the cause of all her problems, was the man who had those answers.

  Jorunn seemed to be ready for her question. It was as if he had been waiting for her to ask. “I think it best to give you a little background, Claire. The monsters you saw the other night are just a small part of the world hidden to most. Also, as you learn about this hidden world, it is important to remember that, as much as you know or how powerful you become, there is always more. This world is limitless.”

  “Why is that so important?” Claire asked.

  “Because if there is always more to learn, you are no different than those that aren’t aware of the things that you know.”

  “So, you want me to be humble?” she said in a belligerent tone.

  “I want you aware. This world and the circumstances of it can distract you from the more that is always available to us. By appreciating what those around us and our circumstances have to offer us, we stay connected to that which will always give us more.”

  Claire was starting to be intrigued by what Jorunn was saying. She still wanted him to know that she was not happy with her circumstances, but what she was hearing was overriding her determination to be upset.

  “Well,” she said, “can you tell me a little more?”

  “Claire … you have the capacity to learn of it with every passing day. Just remember that reality’s song is sung by many voices all parroting different verses. If you are to discover the wonder that is here for us all, you need to learn the song that rings true for you.”

  Claire shook her head in irritation. That was just too vague. She wanted something solid. She wanted some understanding of something that she could see.

  “What about those monsters?” Claire snapped. “Are they a part of the wonder?”

  “They, like famine, war, and death are part of the balance. There is an unseen flow of energy supplying the patterns the majority of people are capable of perceiving. If everyone knew of this and how they get what they get, the arc of the pendulum would not be so great between good and evil.”

  “You’re talking utopia.”

  “I’m talking less randomness and greater awareness that we are the creators of all our experiences. Claire, once we understand that life doesn’t happen to us, we begin to realize that life is happening because of us.”

  “I did not cause this!” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Perhaps not.” Jorunn shrugged. “But what if your heart was set on knowing as much of this world as it could know? If, as I was saying, life is responding to us, would it not respond in a way that would allow you to get your wish?”

  A little shaken, Claire felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to leave my home,” she choked out.

  “I’m sure you didn’t. Just as I believe that if you persist in rejecting what the world has given you, you’ll never know the wish-come-true you have been offered. Claire, one of the greatest choices we are given is how we choose to respond to our situations.”

  “You’re saying that going to Wessex is a good thing?” she scowled at Jorunn.

  “No … I am saying that, by you perceiving it as a good thing, you will eventually come to know just how good your life has become. You asked me, why Edyth? I think you would be more open to all that there is for you if you had a woman to guide you. Edyth is a very aware female. Is she your perfect fit? That, Claire, only time will tell.”

  “Why did you use the word female?”

  “Because I think it might be helpful if you knew what Edyth actually is.”

  Chapter 6

  “Well now, Brunneis,” William said to his mare as he stared at the sinking stallion. “I have you and your new friend, and a long, sturdy rope. Now I need a way to hitch you all together. Have you any thoughts about that, my good girl?” In answer, Brunneis rubbed her head on William’s shoulder. “Ach, you silly sod,” he reprimanded her, pushing her head away. “The only thing that will do is ruin my shirt.”

  Knowing he had to do something quickly, William snatched up his sword and wishing he had the raider’s battle-ax, began hacking at a good-sized oak limb. “I’ll be doing a good bit of sword sharpening after this,” he told his mare.

  He wrapped some of the raiders’ clothing as cushioning on two areas of the limb. William then cut two short pieces of rope, and tying their ends to either side of the cushions, he fashioned two loops to hang over the horses’ necks.

  “This looks like an upside-down ox yoke,” William told the brown mare. Talking to the horse helped him sort out his ideas.

  Swinging Brunneis and the gray around, so they were side-by-side, their tails to the stallion, William pulled the first loop over Brunneis’ head and slid it down to the base of her neck. The cushioned part of the limb rested against her chest. He then slipped the other loop over the gray’s head.

  Satisfied the limb was high enough on the horses’ chests, he tied one end of the long rope to the limb between the two beasts. Walking back to the edge of the bog, he pulled the rope between the two horses and tied a huge, slip-proof loop on the other end.

  “Now, to get the loop around his butt.”

  The raiders had driven the stallion far into the soupy expanse. Fifteen feet of mud lay between William and the horse.

  “I need a bridge,” he said, looking about.

  William spotted a log that had been there long enough that the limbs had mostly rotted off. Rolling it to the bog, he stood the log on end, and bending down, he rested the log against his shoulder and wrapped his hands around the bottom end.

  “Steady now,” he said, hoping Brunneis and the gray would hold still. With a grunt, William heaved the log like a caber out toward the stallion. The black stallion struggled, wide-eyed, as the log splashed down but he could go nowhere. The gray started forward, but with Brunneis standing as solid as a rock, two steps was all he could take.

  William coaxed the gray back alongside Brunneis, and grabbing the rope that trailed out between the horses, leaped for the log. The end he landed on sunk a bit as William scrambled toward the end by the stallion. He jumped the three feet between the log and the black, landing as lightly as he could. The horse, at this point, had sunk so far it could not flail about.

  Talking to calm the black as best he could, William placed the loop completely around the horse. Then, sprawled out on the horse’s back facing the animal’s rear, tucked the loop under its tail, pushing the rope down to just above its hocks.

  Facing forward, William grabbed the loop on either side of the horse, and called out, “H’ya, get up there.” He shook the rope to send Brunneis and the gray on, hoping they would stay side-by-side. Brunneis responded, but the gray looked uncertain. Baring her teeth, Brunneis turned on the gray and savagely attacked its neck. The gray sprang forward then pulled with Brunneis. The rope snapped tautly and then strained.

  William could tell that the stallion was trying to move its legs. With its body heavi
ng under him, William and the animal started to inch toward the shore.

  ***

  Making sure Brunneis and the gray were okay, William unhitched the two and set the gray free. Then as the stallion, with his head hanging low, shivered with fatigue, William went to Mile’s aid.

  The horse breeder had come to and was sitting up with his head resting on his knees when William approached.

  “This will need to be stitched up,” he told Miles as he inspected the man’s head wound.

  “It’s fine,” Miles said in a groggy voice. “My wife?”

  “She’s good,” William said quietly.

  “The children?”

  “Your daughters are safe.”

  Miles turned to Andrew with a stricken face. “My son?” he choked out, hoping he had mistaken William’s meaning. William shook his head.

  Miles stared straight ahead for a moment, then, with William’s help, struggled to his feet. He staggered to the gray who had followed William and Brunneis. William gave him a leg up and told him, “I sent your wife and the girls into the woods. I’ll clean up here and take care of the stallion, then meet you at the house.”

  Miles nodded. “Thank you, William,” he whispered. “You’ll need to wash the mud off the stallion to see how his wounds are. There’s a bridge about a quarter mile up the river. This side of it is where I take the horses.” He nudged the gray and headed toward his house.

  William nodded and watched as the man and horse disappeared into the trees. He turned to the raiders, collected the weapons and coin, and made a pile of what he found.

  Next, he dragged the bodies to the bog, stuffed a good-sized rock into each thug’s clothing, and heaved them as far out into the muck as he could. Leading Brunneis to the corral, then to the house where the other raiders lay, he piled the bodies, two at a time, on her back for the trip back to the bog. Back and forth he went until all were gathered at their wet grave. William watched them sink into the bog until he was sure that all traces of the marauders were gone.