Werewolves of Wessex

by J Cameron Boyd

  “I suspect that would be very helpful,” Jorunn acknowledged. “Anything else?”

  “I’ll probably need more material for bandages.”

  “I’ll take care of the herbs. Claire, can you deal with all this?” Edyth asked.

  “Better than I could deal with the thought of losing Will before I have a chance to know him,” Claire admitted.

  “I take it you like him,” Harold smiled.

  “I … I do … most times. When he’s not cranky with me,” Claire said shyly. “But I fear it is not mutual.”

  Edyth touched Claire’s arm. “Claire, you should know this about William. He is intelligent, capable, and as self-aware as any man I have known. But he is also shy and closed-mouth. I’ve seen how he is around you. He will become a friend, eventually.”

  “Well, I hope I’ll be able to give him that time,” Claire said as she softly touched his cheek, then taking up needle and thread, she set to work with a prayer in her heart.

  ***

  “Welcome back,” the red lips in the creamy white face smiled.

  “Ma’am,” William managed to whisper. Doing his best to hide his confusion, he searched for something familiar to try to determine his surroundings.

  “You’re in the keep,” Edyth gently informed him. “One of the guest rooms.”

  ‘Guest room?’ William thought, still confused. ‘Why? My room is in the barn.’

  “We needed you close so that we could keep an eye on you,” Edyth answered.

  “Why?” William asked, oblivious to the fact that Edyth had just answered his thoughts.

  “Do you remember what happened?”

  “I … I … How did I get here?”

  Edyth smiled and then turned as someone entered the room. “He’s awake.”

  “Oh good!”

  William thought he should know the voice, but he could not place it. Then Claire was beside his bed.

  “It’s about time,” she smiled at him. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to throw you in the stream to wake you.”

  Still groggy, William looked at her in confusion. “How long have I been out?”

  “He doesn’t remember anything, does he?” Claire asked Edyth quietly.

  “I’d say not. Would you mind telling him what happened?”

  “I can try,” the young woman answered.

  Edyth leaned over and kissed William on the forehead. “Get well, my boy,” she whispered as she stroked his cheek. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she said to Claire as she left.

  ‘Lady Edyth just kissed me!’ William thought in wonder. She had been known to give William a hug on occasion, but never had she kissed him. William was filled with wonder.

  “Are you okay?” Claire asked.

  William tried to sit up.

  “Don’t!” Claire tried to warn him just as he gave a pain-filled gasp. “Stay down.”

  ‘That was a little late,’ he thought with a grimace.

  “Sorry, but I didn’t think you would be silly enough to try sitting up after what you’ve been through,” Claire apologized.

  This time William was aware that he had not spoken aloud. Staring at Claire guardedly, he sunk slowly back onto the mattress. “What’s happening to me?”

  ***

  Claire wanted to tell William everything, but Edyth had asked her not to. With the poison in his system playing havoc with William’s memory, Claire felt she could get away with bending the truth as much as was needed.

  ‘I doubt he would believe me anyway.’ Which worked for Claire. She really did not want to alienate Lady Edyth.

  So, she lied. Beginning with the poison knife.

  William vaguely remembered the fight. The man that had come at him was big and ugly. But a knife? Why did he remember seeing claws? He wrestled with that memory for a moment, but then, an image floated through his mind. It was the brute’s hand with his blood on the fingertips. There had been no claws. ‘It must have been a knife,’ he thought.

  His head was whirling. None of the pieces seemed to fit together, and so many pieces were missing or seemed off. ‘The poison must be doing this to me,’ he decided.

  He did remember how he had leaned on Claire as she laughingly recounted to him the struggle to get him up onto Luto.

  “I had to get a shoulder up under your bottom to boost you up. And then I wasn’t sure you would stay up there.”

  What he remembered was fighting to not pass out from the pain as he fumbled his way up onto Luto’s back. He was glad he did not remember the fall.

  His thoughts drifted back to before he got on Luto. Claire had told him they walked over to the stallion. He couldn’t recall that. What he did remember was the warmth of her body and how it had lessened the pain. Touching his chest where her hand had supported him, he let his mind stay on those comforting thoughts for a moment.

  Then he realized Claire had stopped talking. He looked up at her. She was looking at him wide-eyed as a flush slowly crept over her cheeks. He swallowed with difficulty and could not ask the question that came to him.

  Just then, the Earl strode into the room. “There he is,” he boomed. “Back from the dead. Edyth told me you had decided to stay with us.”

  “Sir,” William said self-consciously.

  Harold and Edyth had never shied from letting William know that they cared for him. But the touch of Edyth’s lips and the concern in Harold’s voice filled William’s heart. He was glad he could no longer remember the face of the father that had handed him over to the father he now looked up at with love.

  “Has your healer bragged about the miracle she pulled off?” Harold asked him.

  “The lady assisted,” Claire murmured modestly.

  “No doubt,” Harold agreed. “And yet, you did what she thought impossible. The blood of a Lascion … that, Claire, was brilliant.”

  Claire’s face must have let the Earl know of his slip, for he quickly added, “Ah, forgive me. I used my childhood name for the bird. Of course, I meant to say lesser redpoll.”

  “I was wondering,” Claire added.

  “Blood?” William asked, startled.

  “It was just a few drops,” Claire answered, doing her best to avoid as many lies as possible. Then, trying to think of something to distract William from Harold’s slip, she related how the guards had helped her to bathe him.

  “You did what?” William choked out.

  “I had to,” Claire said, thinking she had definitely picked a subject that would make him forget about the blood. “Your body would have made more poison if I hadn’t.”

  “Everywhere?” William asked weakly.

  “I didn’t look,” Claire fibbed.

  “Son … she saved your life,” Harold pointed out. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters,” William said, sinking down, red-faced into the covers.

  Harold chuckled, and Claire went on with her story as quickly as she could.

  She knew Edyth would eventually tell William the truth about who she was, the feran, and all the other things she had kept from him. And, at that time, he would also know that Claire had joined in the conspiracy.

  This was part of the reason she had woven as much truth as she could into her recounting of the events that had put him in this bed. She hoped that when he heard the truth, it would not alienate the two of them.

  Chapter 14

  While Claire watched over the stable manager, Harold and Edyth, with the hunter, Jorunn, set off after the pack of feran that William had spotted.

  Harold knew, from Claire, where the feran had attacked them. Jorunn knew, from her description of what had happened, why they had faced just one feran and not the whole pack.

  “Most likely, it was the rear guard. Typically, one feran trails the pack as much as a mile behind. William had no way of knowing that, and when he broke cover and went back to Claire, the guard spotted him and followed him up to Claire. I’m sure they looked like an easy meal to it.”
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br />   “Why do you say that?” Harold questioned as the three rode to the hilltop.

  “From what William and Claire described, they saw the feran in plenty of time to try to defend themselves. If the feran had thought it was up against a formidable foe, it would have hit them so fast, they would not have had time to draw a sword. The feran are arrogant. They will taunt their prey before they go in for the final blow. I think they also get excited by the smell of blood, so they draw blood before the kill to enhance their experience.”

  Harold exhaled sharply. What he knew of the monsters came from his wife and not experience. And he knew only of what a Piretian experiences when the curse rises up.

  Harold’s heart had been completely captured not long after he had met Edyth. When he had passionately declared his love and intentions to this remarkable woman, Edyth confessed that she too felt that she could not live without him.

  But Edyth had a condition that had to be satisfied before she would give her heart. Harold would have to know the truth of who she was. He, of course, said that whatever it was would not matter. The fact that it almost did paid testimony to the horrific nature of Edyth’s misfortune.

  She had told him an unbelievable story of where she had come from and how she had come to be in this time. When she told him about the curse, it had only been another tale he could not accept. Then she demonstrated the truth of what she was telling him. Her red eyes and elongated canines had filled him with horror. But what would forever play in his mind, was the ease with which she had lifted him off his feet.

  As a young warrior, Harold held to the accepted version of men and women and their places in the world. The disruption of that shook him to his core, but the passion they had for each other could not be denied, and their marriage was arranged. Now many years and six children later, that passion was still there, and he had only grown to love her more.

  Harold glanced over to Edyth. Her pearl-white skin was as smooth as the day they met. She had a soft smile on her face and reached a hand toward him. He took the offered hand, and they rode for a moment in pleasurable silence.

  “Have you hunted drakul?” Harold questioned Jorunn.

  “My homeland is a favorite of the feran, but on occasion, I have gone up against the bloodsuckers,” Jorunn answered.

  “What are they like?” The Earl asked pulling his horse closer to Jorunn’s.

  Jorunn looked to his other side where the Piretian rode. Edyth nodded her consent.

  “They give off the scent of chocolate as does your wife. Only it’s overshadowed by the scent of decay. To smell that corruption of something so delightful will forever stay in your mind,” Jorunn began. “As for how they look … they are much as they were when they were human. That could have been fifty thousand years ago. But they are pale, as if they have never seen the light of day, and their muscles become longer and thinner while gaining a strength that is only rivaled by the feran. To look into their eyes can make the strongest of souls quake with fear, for they are devoid of life. Only when they hunt do they alter. Those dead eyes become blood red, and the upper canines descend.

  “Physically, they do not look as formidable as the feran. Then again, looks can be deceiving. But the most frightening changes are internal. The brain of a human, people will someday realize, is designed to process at a level beyond the capacity of any other sentient being in the universe. When the curse-driven Piretian leaves his or her victim alive, the drakul that results from that attack finds itself with five times the capacity to use its mental abilities than what it had as a human.”

  Harold looked over at Edyth. He knew that, before she had access to the synthetic blood that had been developed many years ago, she too would have had to hunt when the curse overtook her. He still had a hard time seeing this elegant woman as one who would have to do that.

  Edyth returned his look with a smile that said, ‘Yes, that is who I am. And you know I am so much more.’

  “The drakul can mesmerize, read your thought, and sense your emotions. It is effortless for them to outthink their prey. Because of their enormous strength and slim build, you can’t outrun them,” Jorunn stated grimly. “They also love to use weapons—weapons, in one form or another, that they have been wielding for as long as they have existed.”

  “Hearing this makes me glad it is feran we seek,” Harold shuddered.

  “Then I would tell you more,” Jorunn said. “For I would not have you take what we ride toward lightly. Without a weapon, I doubt I could best a feran even if they were not on the hunt. The only being stronger than a feran is a Lantian.”

  “I have seen neither,” Harold said solemnly. “But they both must be fearsome indeed.”

  “Unlike Lady Edyth and her fellow Piretians, the Lantians’ skin is a golden bronze. They are tall, though I am told they were taller when this world was called Lantis. Their strength is like that of an ox. They are smart and sensitive, and my father swears that they all were once powerful magicians.”

  “Another consequence of the curse?” Harold asked.

  “It has done much damage,” Jorunn nodded. “You have only to see the humans still left alive after the feeding of a Lantian. Those feran are smarter and stronger than they were as humans. But when the hunt comes upon them, their muscles expand to a size and strength that surpasses the most powerful man that has ever lived. The pleasant, earthy smell of the Lantian deteriorates into the stink of a dirty, wet dog. Their eyes turn blood red. But the worst are the hands and jaw. Bones and ligaments transform to the point that the lower jaw unhinges and juts forward, so they resemble a wolf. And their hands grow claws—five inches of lethal weaponry.”

  “I’ve seen what they can do.”

  “Indeed … William was quite lucky. And that girl,” Jorunn smiled. “I was told she was wise in the ways of healing, but to solve the riddle of how to reverse the effect of those poison claws … that will save the lives of thousands of hunters.”

  “Will they cut through chain maille?” Harold asked, fingering the maille at his neck.

  “It is the reason we are dressed as we are. Just remember, you don’t have to be cut severely for the poison to kill you.”

  “I am aware,” Harold said, glancing over at his wife. “That point has been thoroughly covered.”

  “Just don’t you forget it,” Edyth warned him with an affectionate smile.

  ***

  Harold knew he would never forget all that Jorunn and Edyth spoke of on their way to the hill. Having married an immortal, or an ‘old one’ as Edyth would call herself when she teased him about marrying someone so much older than himself, he knew that there was so much more to the world than most knew. But in all the years he had been with Edyth, he had never been so close to the dark side of her world.

  Reaching the hill, they found what was left of the feran. As a feran or drakul that still walks on the earth is technically dead, when their soul is released, the breakdown of tissue is rapid. There was not much left of the hulking monster. Nor were there signs that the other feran had come to the hill in search of it.

  “They travel in packs only because that is their way, not because of friendship or comradery,” Jorunn informed them. “It is likely, this one was not missed.”

  “Do you think there is any chance that the pack is nearby?” Edyth asked the hunter.

  “Only if there’s an ample food supply,” Jorunn responded.

  “Would they ever store their food until they were hungry?” Harold questioned.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” Jorunn looked at him questioningly.

  “I was just thinking about a small village not far from here. Being in the hills and surrounded by forest, it is rather isolated. Claire mentioned that William saw the pack following the stream. It leads to the village.”

  “Do you think that the feran could have raided the village and taken prisoners to store them for a future food supply?” Jorunn asked. “And you say the place is isolated?”

  “It is,
” Harold confirmed.

  “There’s a good possibility they could have done that,” Jorunn frowned. “If that’s so, they will be guarding them and spoiling for a fight. Are you up for a battle?”

  “Very much so,” Edyth said, then turned to her husband expectantly.

  “And I will be on the hill above the village,” he said with some bitterness.

  Harold’s skills as a warrior were equal to that of any freeman. Of course, he realized he would not be going up against humans. He wanted to kill the monsters, yet he wasn’t a fool. He would assist his wife and Jorunn by keeping watch for the enemy.

  “As long as I see you are okay, I will simply be your lookout,” he promised.

  Edyth looked at him tenderly, then said, “My lord, do remember the children should I fall. They will need you.”

  ***

  An hour’s ride brought them to the bluff overlooking the few dwellings Harold had called a village.

  “It’s been a week,” Jorunn considered. “I wonder if anyone is left.”

  “That outcropping over there should give me a vantage point. I’ll let you know what I see,” Harold said as he dismounted.

  “Wait,” Edyth said as she too got off her horse. “If they are down there, Jorunn and I are going in. I could use a proper send off.” She smiled, flowing across the grass into his arms.

  “You come back to me,” Harold said as they parted. He turned and made for the rock.

  Edyth watched him go and then turned to the hunter. “It’s been a century since I’ve hunted. You may have your hands full.”

  “No worries. It will all come back to you.”

  They both knew that the feran’s poison was not a threat for the Lascion. Neither would it have an impact on an immortal. Still, there was danger. Either one could be overwhelmed and eaten. Even an immortal could not survive if they were brought down and devoured by a large number of feran.

  ‘I see them,’ Harold projected to them. ‘I have a count of six. There may be others.’