Werewolves of Wessex

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Werewolves of Wessex Page 6

by J Cameron Boyd


  ‘Feran.’ The word bounced about her mind desperately trying to find some sort of meaning to cling to. She knew the monsters were dangerous … but why? She also knew that they were once people, but exactly how they were not human now … All she had learned was that another monster had left them to die, but they had lived through the attack.

  What she did know for certain was that, if you cut off their heads, the heads would explode. That was supposed to release a part of the human that had been entrapped … again, she had no idea as to the what or any of the how.

  ‘It’s probably just as well that I’m not supposed to talk about them,’ she thought, totally confused.

  She was heading for the stables, carrying a healthy helping of apprehension with her. She could stay on a horse to get from place to place, but neither she nor the horse was very happy about it.

  As far as Claire was concerned, her situation was going from bad to worse, then on to impossibly horrible. All because she had snuck out of the keep when she should not have. For that, she had been banished to the southern portion of England. That was the ‘bad.’

  Then there were her hosts. ‘At least Edyth doesn’t look like a creature from the stars,’ Claire thought. ‘But do I really believe all that she says is true?’ For five days, Jorunn had tried to prepare Claire for the Earl and his wife. The comment he made about Edyth’s heritage stuck in Claire’s mind. ‘How could anyone make up something like that?’ she wondered. Supposedly this young-looking woman was an ancient being from another star system.

  There was no question in Claire’s mind that Edyth could read her mind. That gave some credence to Jorunn’s claim. But Jorunn Thora was not from the stars, and he was just as adept at listening to her thoughts.

  The whole mind-reading thing was rather disturbing. But not nearly as much as the both of them telling her that she too could become an expert at it.

  Even if she had not heard the stories from Jorunn, Edyth would still have stood out in Claire’s mind. There was nothing specific. It was just that Edyth had instantly struck her as an exceptional person.

  Edyth was different than anyone she had ever met. It wasn’t different in a disagreeable way … It was just a better way. There was something about the woman that awed Claire, and yet, in her presence, Claire felt comfortable, even a little special. Her ladyship was also brave—braver than any other woman Claire had known. She actually thought that she and her husband, along with Jorunn and Claire, could handle the monsters Jorunn had warned them about.

  This was the point where Claire felt her life got worse.

  Claire was a healer, not a warrior. She knew nothing about combat and not much more about horses. Her mother did not approve of women riding horses, so Claire had very little experience in the saddle. Yet Edyth had told her and the two warriors that the four of them could deal with the feran. Even though she and Harold were to be the lookouts who communicated to Edyth and Jorunn about the monsters’ whereabouts, she was still expected to know how to ride and defend herself.

  ‘Right,’ Claire shuddered, thinking about the progress she had made over the past week. ‘More like lack of progress,’ she thought glumly.

  Edyth had been working with her to improve her mind-reading. Edyth called it mind-speak. According to Edyth, everyone was capable of communicating with their thoughts instead of their tongues and ears. All it took was a belief in the process, and practice—apparently a whole lot of practice.

  Claire had stumbled over her ability to mind-speak in a moment of panic. The thoughts she shared with Jorunn on that night two weeks ago had, supposedly, pushed her past the hardest hurdle. So why then had this week been so … so nothing. If Edyth or Jorunn did not force their way in, they did not get in. Claire heard nothing, and according to her instructors, projected nothing. This morning had been the worst.

  “Let’s take a break,” Edyth had said as she ushered her out the door. “Go practice with your sword.”

  Pausing about a hundred feet from the stables, Claire took a deep breath. As bad as her mind-speak had been going, what lay inside the structure before her was worse—positively the ‘impossibly horrible.’

  Harold’s and Edyth’s life was busy before Claire’s arrival. Edyth was trying to find the time to teach Claire mind-speak, but it was not easy for her. As for Jorunn, or as Claire referred to him—the man who ruined my life—he was trying to carry most of the load himself. Jorunn was there most days to work with her when Edyth could not, but Claire often saw him leaving the castle before she went to sleep and many times it was mid-morning before he returned. After which, he spent part of the morning reporting—on what, Claire had no idea—back to Harold.

  That left the responsibility of teaching her to the stable manager. She had to be able to ride well enough that, if she got on a horse, she was reasonably sure to get where she was going. Claire could understand that the best person to teach her riding was William. He was a natural when it came to horses, but the way it turned out, William also ended up working with her on her swordplay.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Claire thought. ‘Any of the soldiers probably would have worked fine. Why did Lady Edyth insist on that ornery stable manager to teach me to poke people with a blade?’

  Claire was at a loss. She had been quite excited to see William the day she had gone for her first riding lesson. She had given him her best smile and had complimented him on the condition of the horses and stable. What she had gotten in return was nothing. He barely looked at her, and not once had he spoken an entire sentence to her.

  “I thought he liked me,” she whined quietly.

  It did not help that she could remember so vividly the long-distance exchange they had at the bridge. And when she saw him again in the great hall … she had been so attracted to him. She still was … a little. After all, he was a hero. He had saved the horse breeder’s family and horses and seemed to be very modest during his telling of that tale. It was just that William did not appear at all interested in her, and heaven forbid that he should say something nice to her.

  ‘Thank goodness the horses are so wonderful, otherwise going to the stables for my lessons is not much different than last week’s walk in the woods with Father. Only this time, I know what’s coming,’ Claire thought as she mimicked the words William used most often, “No … no … not that way!” She gave a quick giggle and continued on.

  ***

  “Morning,” she said cheerfully as she walked toward Luto’s and Brunneis’ stalls. The two horses looked up from their hay. Not seeing her instructor, Claire asked, “Where’s the grouch?”

  Brunneis snorted her understanding.

  “He’s been that way with you too, huh,” Claire sympathized.

  “What way is that?” The voice came from behind her.

  Claire flinched and turned toward the stable manager. “What’s on today’s agenda?” she asked, deciding it best to ignore William’s question.

  “The horses want to run,” William replied.

  “How do you know that?”

  William frowned at her, but still, he answered, “I just do.”

  “No, seriously. Edyth has been telling me that we can communicate with animals. She also said that you seem to know how to do that with horses. I was just wondering whether or not you can speak with them in words.”

  “That’s not possible,” William said with a finality he thought would discourage further questions.

  Irritated with his short answer, Claire said, “I know people who can think their thoughts to one another. Why not with animals?”

  She immediately regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. Edyth did not want William to know anything about her extraordinary abilities. It had something to do with Edyth wanting him to work with his instincts and how her adopted son was like cream. Left alone, his unusual abilities would rise to the top, and he would be the better for it.

  ‘Either that or his sour nature will turn him to buttermilk,’ Claire snickered to h
erself.

  Fortunately, William saw her smile and assumed she was teasing him about people who could read each other’s mind, so he did not respond. Instead, he managed a small grunt, turned to the horses, and finished readying them for Claire’s lesson.

  ***

  They traveled to a hilltop about a mile from the stable. It was the only area around that was relatively flat, and William had constructed a small, square arena there to work the horses. Leaving Luto to graze, William opened the handmade gate and followed Claire and Brunneis inside.

  “Walk and let’s see how your corners are coming,” he said.

  Claire walked on, trying to get Brunneis to turn as William had shown her. “No … no … not that way!” came at her from the center of the arena. “Turn left now,” came next. Then, of course, “No … no … not that way!” Brunneis was swaying around the arena like a drunken sailor with Claire attempting to steer her with the reins in a way that William would not notice. But he did.

  “Don’t pull her around the corners,” he commanded her.

  “But she won’t turn for me,” Claire whined.

  “You’ve got her totally confused. Keep your weight where it should be.”

  “I thought I was!” Claire was getting more upset by the moment.

  “Look, we’ve got to get you two talking again,” William said through tight lips. He grabbed the sole of Claire’s left shoe. “Step into my hand,” he commanded. She leaned in his direction. “Stay on top of your horse!” he yelled. “Don’t lean. Brunneis will think you’re falling off. Look, just put a little weight into my hand.”

  Claire complied. “It’s not working.”

  “Open your left rein toward me, so she knows you really want a turn. Don’t pull the rein back!” he yelled. “Just open it.”

  The horse walked in a circle to the left.

  “It worked!” Claire said excitedly.

  “Okay, now think about the turn you want. Step into my hand, no rein. Just turn your shoulders, and Brunneis’ shoulders will follow yours.” William said quietly. Then, “Don’t lean!”

  Claire jumped, and her whole body tightened.

  “Relax! You look like a scarecrow on a stick up there.”

  William looked up at Claire, not understanding why she could not get something so simple. She was staring straight ahead, but then he noticed tears coursing down her cheek. Now what? He had to do something.

  Reaching up, he placed his hand on the small of her back. “Here,” he said. “Relax right here.”

  Claire could feel the warmth of his hand. It felt good and, despite herself, she felt relaxation flowing throughout her body.

  “That’s it,” William’s quiet voice said. “Follow the horse softly from here.”

  Claire closed her eyes and felt the movement. She was flowing with it. Her right hand went to her lower back, settling atop William’s.

  The horse stopped. Claire looked down. William was looking questioningly up at her. Then abruptly, he turned away.

  “The horses want to run. Let’s have a snack and then take them out,” he said.

  Disappointed, Claire dismounted and took the offered apple and a few walnuts. For a while, the two ate in silence. Then William, looking about said, “We’ll come back here after our run. This looks like a good place for a sword fight, don't you think?”

  “I’m not sure there is such a place as that,” Claire said moodily.

  “I … I mean, we should just practice here,” William stammered.

  “Or, we could forego the practicing altogether. That way you’d be free of me even sooner,” Claire snapped.

  “I … That’s not what I want,” William said with a stricken look on his face.

  “Well then, what is it that you do want?” Claire almost yelled.

  “I want—”

  Just then, both horses snorted and whirled toward the other side of the hill. Their heads were up, and ears pointed toward whatever was spooking them. William moved to them, soothed them for a moment, then retrieved Claire’s sword from Brunneis’ saddle. He handed her the sword, saying, “Quiet.” With his own blade in hand, he headed toward whatever was upsetting the animals.

  Claire watched the man striding away from her, worried about what he was walking into. Just before he reached the tree-line, he turned back and held up a hand, asking her to wait there. Then he melted into the forest. Claire swallowed, fighting back her fear.

  Chapter 11

  Moving quickly across the plateau, William reached the rim and worked his way down the slope. He stopped when he got to an overlooked and started searching for whatever had spooked the horses. That could be anything as far as Luto was concerned. William did not have a long enough history with the horse to know. Brunneis was a different story. She would snort and act up if a wolf or large predator came too close. Beyond that, she never cared about what the other animals were doing. From that, he knew there was something out there that he needed to check out.

  For a while, the memory of the skirmish at Miles’ farm kept his mind alert, looking for danger. Then his mind turned to a more threatening subject—the young woman waiting for him by the horses.

  ‘She’s a beauty, no doubt,’ he told himself. In his mind, that in itself made his interest in her hopeless. ‘Her grandfather is an Earl. My family sold me off for rent money. Even if she likes me, her family will not approve of her being with someone who is so far beneath her.’

  Knowing that this would be the outcome from the first day Edyth introduced them should have put an end to any yearning his heart might hold. The fact that his stomach continued to knot every time he was around her merely belied the sanity of his heart. Then, there was his tongue. Paralysis was its issue.

  ‘If I had anything of a chance with her,’ William thought without hope, ‘that would kill it. I can’t even put two words together when I’m around her.’

  Never had he met a woman he was so attracted to. And never had he been so awkward around a woman as when he was in her presence.

  A movement down the slope pulled his attention from the thoughts of Claire. Two men had appeared moving alongside a small stream. In a moment, the group swelled to ten.

  ‘Raiding party?’ William wondered. But none of the ten were armed. ‘What are they about?’ He could think of no reason why a group of men, carrying nothing, should be traveling through the forest together. The whole scenario troubled him, but as they were moving away from Harold’s lands, William merely kept an eye on the band until they disappeared among the trees.

  Claire hurried over to him as soon as he left the cover of the woods.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. “Did you find anything?”

  “It was a strange sight,” he said. “Just a group of men walking in the woods.”

  “What do you mean?” Claire said, looking concerned. “Were they doing anything? What did they look like?”

  “They weren’t doing anything,” William said with a frown on his face. “That was the strange thing. They weren’t carrying weapons or supplies, but they were all big men. The size of man that you would want for the front line of your army.”

  Claire’s face blanched as if she had just seen a ghost. “I … I think we should go back,” she stammered.

  “Claire?” William asked. “What’s wrong? They headed south away from here. We should finish your lessons.”

  “William, you don’t understand. Please, we need to go.”

  The horses that had been quietly cropping grass suddenly snorted and focused on something behind William. Then Claire, wide-eyed, raised her sword with both hands. William swung around to see what was upsetting them.

  Moving like an animal on the hunt was the biggest man he had ever seen. But something was all wrong. The muscle-bound being didn’t look quite like a man.

  His eyes were red—all red. The lower half of his face seemed to be all teeth and his hands … William shook his head sure that his eyes were deceiving him … his hands ended in
claws … huge claws.

  “Will, those claws are poisonous. Go for the neck!”

  William pulled his sword and leaped forward. The two closed quickly, and the claws swiped down toward William’s abdomen. William spun away, swinging his sword at the lunging brute. The sword ripped a deep gash in the massive arm. Roaring his fury, the creature swung again. William dove to the ground, trying to roll away from those claws. The beast stepped forward and kicked him in the stomach. William flew through the air, crashing to the ground unable to breathe.

  The creature snarled at William, then turned toward the wide-eyed woman awkwardly holding her sword in front of her.

  Catching his breath, William scrambled to his feet and ran at the beast’s back, bellowing, “No!”

  The mound of muscle turned toward him as William’s blade sliced toward the brute’s neck. William felt his sword hit and then continue on through muscles and bones. William staggered, surprised at how tough the creature’s neck was to slice through.

  As he struggled to regain his balance, the headless beast with its claws still reaching for him, slammed into him. William felt the claws rip into his gut. The pain was ferocious, like nothing he had ever experience. His knees buckled as he was knocked sideways by a savage explosion. William hit face first, head snapping back, shattering his connection with the world around him.

  He fought his way back from the void, knowing that Claire was still there and defenseless. By the time the thought that there may be other creatures about cleared his head, Claire had already made her way to him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, grasping her arm.

  “Lie still,” she said. “You’re hurt.”

  “The others …” William managed.

  Claire looked around. The plateau was empty; she and William were alone. Luto and Brunneis were still agitated, but she thought that was because of the headless corpse lying a few feet from them. Claire prayed that she had time to help William before any more feran showed up.

 

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