The body of Galamor Milligan, the palace guard that had escorted them to the epicentre of hell was never found.
This, understandably, was not a comforting thought as the messenger barreled with kamikaze speed through the dark forest, strange, contrary to tales told to him as a child of trees ensnaring him like a rare treat swallowing him down into the sulfur flames, and giant monsters slivering down silver threads from the twisted tree tops to tear his head off, suck him inside out nothing approached, in fact enchanted branches screaming to devour him willingly dodged him as in fear of reprisal from a worse demon, out of bounds, the messenger hurried on, praising the gods far from this wicked place as he pulled up in the barren grove.
He gently patted his Horses grey nose, his oldest friend who`d saved his life many times over the years, wondering if he`d seen him for the last time, the bag of rubies strapped to his hip getting heavier with each step. What if he never came back out?
His horse nudged him with eyes promising plan b. The bag of rubies a path to a new life, he could scarper, living on a beach while his gold plated steed got his share of fillies.
He chuckled, a hollow sound to his own ears, laughter had no home here, he shook away the empty promises, it was a nice dream, but his king had trusted him, how could he fail him and look himself in the mirror again. "Here goes nothing."
He cut free the bag on his hip, wisely ditching the dagger, never a good idea to anger a witch.
"Marianna! I`m here by order of king Killik with your rubies!” Please dont kill me.
Hopeful, he turned to his horse, "Maybe she`s asleep."
A crash of thunder split the sky. With a floorboard creak, the door swung open dashing his hopes of her on holiday. Rubies held out at arm’s length as if a sacrifice to dark Gods, the messenger was about to leave them on the step when a whinny scream spun him like a bullet to the shoulder. "Samson? Samson!"
No good, his horse was gone.
“Now how am I supposed to get home?” A chilling thought. Maybe he wasn`t supposed to was unsettling.
The ground apparently opening up and taking his best friend, the messenger surprised himself by hurrying into the witches lair, better the devil you know. The thought rushed through his head, before barely in her threshold something scalding hot and sweet like herbs cracked against the back of his head, pitched him to his knees and a darkness from which he`d never wake a moment later.
Whistling merry as she worked, Marianna threw down the boulder and grabbing the mortal by his boots, dragged him deeper inside her lair, the sweet fly lured to the spiders larder with the promises inside, "He`s young and strong alright, he will do nicely." Having no need for rubies she threw them to gathering Magpies to make pretty their nests.
Then dropping a severed hand into a bubbling pot she slammed the door, blocking out the rolling thunder and prying eyes, not wanting to give her pets nightmares.
Can Love Endure?
By Melynda Fleury
There they sat, two strangers that had known each other for over forty years. The incessant ticking of the clock, the only background music to their silence.
The kids were grown, the pets had passed, and the person sitting across from themselves the only thing left of several decades of marriage. Even that seemed to be dead and gone.
The memories and responsibilities they once shared had all moved away and started new lives on their own.
He looked at her and barely glimpsed the girl he had fallen in love with. The silvery blond hair was now just silver. The waist he had once spanned with his hands had stretched with each child they had. Summer, blue eyes that had once danced with joy at the sight of him, currently stared void of emotion. Thoughts of their flirtatious walks and outings, as they became acquainted flitted through his memory like sifting sand.
Glancing around his living room, he noticed all the hard work she had put in. Overstuffed chairs designed to encourage a warm feeling of relaxation and closeness, were evenly spread and pleasing to the eye. The low key throw rugs in warm fall colors complimented the soft beige and tans the walls had been painted.
The fireplace had pictures dotting the mantle of their children in different stages of growth. New pictures of the grandkids had been lovingly added to walls and coffee tables around the room for quick access for visitors.
Their four kids had taken up the majority of their lives. His beautiful bride had stayed home and raised them, while he went off to work and late night business meetings to make ends meet. Most every night a well-balanced meal was on the table at 5:30 sharp. His laundry was done, the bills were paid the children fairly well behaved and he had no complaints.
Now the last of the noise had left the house, and he realized he didn’t know her anymore. Did she still like flowers? He wasn’t even sure what her favorite music or colors were. When was the last time they had gone out on a date? Not a work related function, but a “just because” date? She never complained. She just kept going with her day to day task.
He still loved her, or more accurately the memory of her, but he didn't know her anymore.
In turn those blue eyes were following similar paths down memory lane.
They had once had dreams of retiring together. The fun they had planned once it was just the two of them again. No pets, no kids, two lovers reunited, after years of struggling through mortgages, child rearing, and unsatisfying workplaces.
They had planned to travel. Nothing big, just driving around the country to States they had never visited before. She had dreamed of this time and prepared for the day he would announce it was time to pack. It seemed like a pipe dream now and disappointment filled her soul.
How did the boy that had swept her off her feet with his carefree laugh and wild abandonment turn into the grouchy, computer geek sitting in front of her?
Sometimes she wondered what she would have to do to catch his attention. To recapture that look he had once given so freely that promised fun and excitement, later, when they were alone. How far would she have to go before he noticed her?
Where was the man that had held her when she cried, or picked a flower out of the neighbor’s yard to make her smile?
Was he still there underneath this stoic, solemn demeanor that now faced her? Could she reach him if she stretched her hand out to him?
He had always provided well for his family and called when he had to work late. He had backed her up in disciplining the children and helped as much as a working man could. She had no complaints about the life he had built for them. It was the boy she missed and the man she held. How could she reconcile the two?
She still loved him, or the memory of who he had once been.
It was Christmas and she was so lonely for the lively chatter of the children rushing to open presents. She missed them, but he was here. Surely they could still have some Christmas fun even if they were alone.
Trying to find something to hold on to she finally broke the silence.
"Would you like to do something? Maybe we could take a walk like we used to. You know, hold hands and just talk? It is Christmas after all." her eyes pleaded for him to meet her half way. Her heart begged for the love he had once freely given.
"Not really in the mood for a walk. A little full from dinner, it was great as usual, thank you. I think I'll just watch some TV. Is there anything good on we could watch?" he countered wanting to hold her on the couch.
There had been a time when after a nice breezy walk they would find a good movie and she would cuddle up close with her head on his shoulder or lap. These were some of his favorite times. Oh sure, he walked with her but just sitting and holding her was what he loved the most. Now she rarely sat and watched anything with him anymore. If she did she either had crochet in her lap or jumped up to check the laundry in the middle of the show.
"I don't know." she sighed and stood making her way to the door.
"You go ahead. I'm going outside for some fresh air. I need to lose a little weight anyway." Her heart shattered as he reached fo
r the remote and the ticking of the clock continued. Now however it was muted by the Greenbay game he had found.
Quickly pulling on her old wool coat and soft grey hat, her heart sank as she realized her hair now matched her clothes.
Slipping out the door, she wondered if she'd ever find that boy again she had once loved.
As she left the seat next to him suddenly felt empty and cold. Just like their life.
“This can’t be happening.” He thought as he heard the front door close softly. “I won’t let it happen.” The TV clicked off as he searched his memory of their first meeting and the following ones. He needed to remember how he won her over the first time. There had to be a way. Then pushing himself out of his soft leather seat he began to grin. He would win her heart back starting tonight if it wasn’t too late.
As the bitter December wind froze her tears to her face, she tromped through the snow like the general she had become. A chant rose in her mind from years before.
They had been walking down a path when her sandal broke. Without pausing he had scooped her up and plopped her over his shoulder. Laughter exploding from her throat and howling to be put down just earned her a sharp pop on the rump and a sing/songing in a deep military style
“Left, Left, Left, Right, Left.” As he smacked her backside every time a protest would escape her throat. He had not dropped her until they had reached their home and only then to unlock the door. Door opened, he had grinned at her, and scooped her up in his arms, taking her straight up the stairs. That had been a couple of months after they had married. Years passed since they played any game except for UNO with the kids.
Now the kids were gone. They had needed her. She felt isolated without all the ruckus and banter the children brought home daily after school. Even when they were in college the house would be full of young adults, teasing and fighting. Her purpose seemed to have packed its bags with her last child. Now the house stayed pretty clean. Laundry was at a minimum. No little handprints decorated the walls. No toys dotted the floor unless the grandkids came over and that was rare.
She didn’t even have a dog to take care of. The agreement having been made long ago that after retirement there would be no more animals as they planned to travel. After Shyla died and they laid her overweight, golden retriever form to rest, no animals were brought into the home.
She missed her dog. She missed her children and most of all she missed her husband. Slipping on a patch of ice, her shoe filled with water. Tears began to flow again as her cold feet ached. Snow fell softly on her upturned face, and as she stopped and stared at it she wondered what she accomplished in her life. No one seemed to care. Her friends warned her to get a hobby and she had taken up reading and crocheting as it seemed to pass the time. She attempted writing but decided she just wasn’t good enough.
She had no reason to be unhappy. Everything she needed was provided, except for the things that she really wanted. Affection and companionship were denied her. As she turned back towards home the sky’s opened up and sleet beat against her exposed hands and face. Pulling her coat a little tighter around her, she tried to hurry, but soon found she couldn’t even see what direction she was headed in.
Panic overcame her as darkness enfolded her. The weather seemed to have dropped twenty degrees since she left. Why didn’t she bring her cell phone? Why hadn’t she grabbed her gloves and a scarf? His teasing words about her learning to think before she acts swam through her brain. Anger began to replace self-pity.
If he had come along with her, she wouldn’t be in this position! This was entirely his fault. Unreasonable as it seemed her brain continued to trudge along that train of thought.
Just as she started to lose hope of making it home a car pulled up beside her and she heard a door open and slam shut.
“Hurry up! Get in, you silly woman, before you freeze to death.” His voice rang through the fog and storm. Warm hands guided her towards the car.
“Watch where you’re sitting, I brought your scarf and gloves just in case.” He said and shut the door.
Her heart began to melt.
“Woman, will you ever think before you act? I swear if I hadn’t noticed the sky you might have froze to death!” he grumbled
She grinned.
Slowly a grin shot across his face too.
“When we get home you are in big trouble girl! You are grounded for the next three days!” he started looking a bit like the boy she had married.
Her grin turned into a full-fledged smile.
“Stop smiling like a dolt! If I hadn’t known where to find you, you could have been in serious trouble.” Concern etched every word and she laughed as they pulled into the driveway.
“Oh you think that’s funny?” he howled in disbelief “We’ll just see about that!” Quick as lightening he reached across and unbuckled her seat belt then gently kissed her lips. The boy was back.
“I’ve been thinking about everything you have done for the kids and me over the years and how well you took care of us all.” He whispered between kisses
“I think it’s your turn to be taken care of. How about we pack some bags while this storm is brewing and when it’s over we’ll go anywhere you want to go?” the insecurity in his voice touched the last frozen spot in her heart.
“Can I have a dog?” she blurted out
“What? I thought we were traveling? We can’t travel with a dog!”
“We traveled with kids! What’s the difference?” Her voice was now becoming firm. The general was back.
Getting out of the car and opening her door they stood face to face, challenge and sleet dotting the air.
Suddenly he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Marching towards the door he muttered
“Fine a dog. After this trip though, I want you all to myself for this one.”
“You’re not doing it right!” She squealed. “You’re supposed to be saying Left, Left, Left, Right, Left!” her laughter echoed through the night as he plopped her down and unlocked the door.
“I think you got that part covered. I’ll cover the other part!” throwing her back over his shoulder he gave her a firm smack on the rump as she continued her marching orders.
“Merry Christmas.” He said as he gently placed her on the ground.
“It is now.” She replied wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He whispered softly in her ear.
Hand in hand they walked upstairs to spend some much needed time together.
Battle for Dominance
By S.B. Sebrick
The edges of the mountains glowed red as the sun slowly surrendered to dusk’s temporary reign. Less than an hour remained till the moon would peak out from its hiding place beneath the horizon, and the hunt would truly commence.
Leone glanced toward the rest of the townsfolk as they followed him up the trail. Only a few of them understood the true conflict pooling beneath the deaths of a few cattle and a missing group of trigger happy hunters. The other pack, driven either by hunger or greed, had crossed onto their boundaries. Unless a deal could be struck anew there would be a lot of bloodshed tonight, by claw and fang, not by bullet.
Rounding the trail they arrived at the large clearing he’d scouted out the day before. “The trail goes deeper into the mountains from here,” he announced, “We’d better make camp and rest for the night. It will be a long hike tomorrow.”
Horses were useless up here. The perpetrators obviously picked the roughest terrain possible so only fool hardy townsfolk on foot or members of their own kind could pursue them. The rest of the men nodded at his advice, separating into small groups and getting a fire going.
They took some convincing, but the people weren’t stupid. They noticed that the ones who followed their main tracker’s advice survived and those who took matters into their own hands didn’t. More importantly, they trusted him, even if they didn’t fully understand what was really going on beneath the su
rface.
“So, what do you think we’re really up against?” His brother Wesley asked, watching the townsfolk like an uncle would his nephews he’d been ordered to protect. “Safe to say they’d be useless in the fight I assume?”
He nodded towards the stable boy’s shaking hands as he tried to untie his bedroll. Even the local butcher’s face was paler than usual. For years he’d earned his living hacking up flesh that couldn’t complain, much less fight back. It was a poor preparation for combat, human or otherwise.
“That’s right,” Leone assured him, “Gonna have to make sure none of them follow us either. There were at least half a dozen separate tracks at the hunter’s lodge. We should be able to handle it if we keep it all... in the family.”
“Got the answer to that right here,” Wesley said with a grin, pulling the large 5 gallon container of whisky from his pack. “They’ll sleep all through the night.” He bit his lip nervously, “course they won’t be able to defend themselves either if we fail.”
“Not like they’d stand a chance without us anyway.” Leone countered with a sigh. “Just help them finish setting up camp. We need them all incapacitated before the moon rises. Even the stable boy, call it a rite of passage. I’ll sort it out with his mother later.”
Wesely whistled softly, “First to fight a rival pack and then to face Mrs. Walker and tell her you got her son so drunk he passed out? You have a death wish I’m not aware of?”
Leone chuckled, a deep throaty sound. His body was already undergoing some minor changes in preparation for the moon’s arrival. “Guess I’ll have to get married soon then. I hear having a wife motivates a man to stay clear of trouble… Then again, you came along.”
Wesley rolled his eyes, “Like your sister would let you within thirty miles of a mountain pack without me watching your back. We both know how focused you get in a fight. A freshly turned pup could rip your throat out while you wrestle the biggest wolf. You really need to pay better attention to your surroundings.”
“Speaking of which,” Leone cut in, facing the pack’s trail heading up the steep rocky forest to the north. “Have Erick and Lyman watch the mountain side, there’s a chance the other pack already knows we’re here.” Just because their senses weren’t enhanced yet didn’t mean they couldn’t employ lookouts or even a sniper to take out the enemy leader prematurely.
“On it,” Wesley said, patting Leone’s back assuredly. “We’ll be fine. This isn’t our first hunt.”
“I’m aware of that,” Leone responded bitterly. “I just want to avoid this one from resulting in a body count on our side.”
Wesley bit his lip at the mention of the previous summer’s tragedy. They were a small family, just a father and son. But when his father died in a pack fight, Jack ran away from home, hiding so completely even their enhanced senses failed to track him down. He’d covered his scent with ignited kerosene, forcing them to protect their own homes instead of pursue him.
“We will find him eventually,” Wesley assured him, “he’ll come back when he’s ready.”
Leone grunted, it did little to stave off the guilt he felt. If only he’d developed the neck armor a bit sooner. This time, he would keep his family alive. This time he wouldn’t let anyone else who trusted him for safety, die.
Literary Lunes Magazine: December 2011 Issue Page 13