by Elisa Menz
“I wish, with all my heart, that you find a loving and supportive partner in Kieran. I hope he can look at you and realize—” he squeezed her hand, beaming with pride— “what a bright and strong woman he has by his side. You will forge your future, Maeve. I do not doubt it.”
They talked for hours, laughing and remembering the peaceful days when their family was whole. Everyone in the castle felt the warmth emanating from their lord’s chamber, and every laugh from Maeve came like a breath of spring.
But the night passed, and by dawn, Maeve left her father’s bedroom to deliver the painful news of his death.
CHAPTER IV
A NEW HOME
Maeve
After her father’s passing, Maeve’s days felt a bit longer and dim. The only thing keeping her active during the day was working in the fields and taking care of the castle. The constant clatter of the kitchens and the hard relief work gave her aching heart, helped to keep her sanity intact.
Anxiety took over every time she thought about what the future would bring or how much her life would change when Lord Callum decides to visit. The idea of leaving her home and the ones she grew up with overwhelmed her. With her family gone, Maeve clung to every brief memory the castle brought her.
Maeve announced she would not inherit her family’s property, and their new lord would arrive in the next few weeks. She did her best to soothe the restlessness of her people, which helped somehow to calm her fears. The news of the death of lord O’Riordan reached the court and their closest neighbors, also informing the transfer of land and Maeve’s engagement.
Engagement.
To marry a man she didn’t know.
Her father never said anything positive about lord Callum his entire life. Maeve only hoped for the best and that his son Kieran turned out to be better than his father.
Soon, the day came, and Maeve stopped fighting the inevitable. She prepared as best she could, settling all affairs of the castle to transfer the responsibilities most efficiently. She said goodbye for hours to everyone who accompanied her during her life while assuring them the change would be favorable.
To keep her mind away from troubling thoughts, Maeve herself packed her belongings, chose her outfit for the journey, and gave the order to ready her mount. The ride to the lands of the Callums would take at least half a day, and she wanted to offer her new father-in-law a snack. Before departing, she meant to talk with the man lord Callum would name to administer the castle.
She saw them arrive around noon. Four men on horseback and a carriage. Maeve fixed her dress while running down the stairs and checked again the cap covering her hair. After 18 years, she still didn’t understand why women should wear all their hair hidden. Tradition—she was frequently told—but there seemed to be no logical reason for it. Since it was awfully difficult to keep it clean and untangled, Maeve suspected no solid reason existed.
She straightened and relaxed her expression into a polite smile, trying to make an excellent first impression on her future father-in-law. Maeve had no particularly high expectations about the Callums, but since they would become her new family, better to start on the right foot.
The men rushed into the courtyard and dismounted with haste. Maeve recognized lord Callum, the most robust of them all, with a ruddy expression on his face. His elegant suit—completely inappropriate for riding—fitted his body, threatening to burst the seams.
“Welcome, my lords. I hope your ride was pleasant,” she said.
Lord Callum and one man approached Maeve, but the other two ignored her and entered the castle. Baffled, she tried to call them back, but lord Callum stood right in front of her, smiling with an unpleasant smirk.
His closeness became unsettling. Taking a small step back, Maeve looked up at him with less civility. “Sir! We have prepared a meal so you can rest before our departure. My horse is saddled, and I only need a little time to explain the state of the lands and the—”
“That won’t be necessary, girl. My men are more than capable of managing this place. We will leave immediately, tell your people to load the luggage in the carriage, and make yourself comfortable.”
Lord Callum leaned over and placed a sweaty hand on her shoulder, trying to act friendly. Maeve suppressed her scowl. She didn’t want to leave without assuring her people would be well taken care of, but she didn’t seem to have much of a choice.
While he watched the scene from a safe distance, her father’s old overseer smiled encouragingly at her. He will take care. Maeve thought before turning her attention back to lord Callum.
“I understand, sir. I leave everything in your hands. My horse is ready, let me—”
“Nonsense! A respectable lady cannot ride on horseback. It is unfortunate your father didn’t teach you the manners of the court after your mother’s passing, but I am willing to ignore this flaw. Lady Callum will be in charge of tutoring you from today. We cannot allow his wife’s deficiencies to humiliate my son.” Lord Callum laughed, amused by his joke.
Maeve was speechless. Every word that came out of the mouth of that pathetic lump of a man hurt or offended her. Lord Callum kept the same smug expression and ushered her into the carriage.
There wasn’t much she could do, so she squared her shoulders and took the first steps towards her new life.
Hakken
Sunny days reminded him of her. Her bright smile, warm skin, the freshness of her scent. Those were the happiest days because she was full of energy. They loved to spend hours roaming the Forest, walking along the Path, lying on the grass, and enjoying the sunshine.
Hakken hated sunny days.
The cloudy days like today matched his feelings a lot better. For whatever the reason, the gray sky caused the emptiness in his chest to swell, pushing every pleasant emotion out of him. The sensation was so crushing, some days Hakken wondered if he was actually ill.
Part of him wanted to shout, curse, break things. Another part only wanted to lay and sleep.
Hakken hated cloudy days.
He left the village seeking solitude among the trees. A few hours became a few days, and a few days seemed well on their way to becoming a week. Hakken found no reason to return to his people, even if some were waiting for him. The thought made him grimace, but he shrugged and told himself it would be better if they just stop worrying about his return.
He didn’t want to go back; he didn’t want to keep walking.
Another year had passed—another without her. Eleven years ago, he lost the love of his life in the middle of the war. He failed to protect her, and his punishment came in the form of emptiness and nightmares. He kept seeing her. Her bloodied, broken body was trembling in his arms while life left her eyes.
Thousands died, and the pain he felt had not been exclusive. Many lost family and lovers, but the years healed them or at least eased their sorrow. New families came to be, and, little by little, peace replaced the horrible passage of war.
Hakken couldn’t leave his pain behind. At first, he hoped for the day the anger and grief would dwindle, but the emotions were always raw in his chest. After some years, he realized he no longer suffered for her, for her absence. He got used to the pain, and after all those years, he didn’t know how to feel anything else.
Perhaps it was time to try harder. Find another mate, start a family. The painful memory of losing her turned him into a coward. Hakken didn’t want to risk living through that torment again.
Maybe death would take his misery away. Maybe that was why his feet took him to the dangerous ends of the Forest once again. Or maybe it was that stupid Path’s fault, insisting on appearing in his way.
The Path has its own will.
“Bah!” He didn’t care about the plans the Path had for him. But then again, starting a war of wills with a ridiculous trail that may or may not have mystical powers sounded equally bothersome.
He kept moving forward, immersed in his cloudy thoughts when an unfamiliar scent caught his attention. In front of
him, a pack of wolves crossed the Path. Young males jogged in line around the females and the puppies while a few adult members examined the surroundings.
Seeing Hakken close didn’t bother them. The wolves and the half-breeds never quarreled. The alpha female of the pack approached him with an elegant pace, and Hakken knelt to greet her. Being bitter was not an excuse to be rude.
He let her sniff his arms and face for a moment before resting his forehead on hers and whispering. “Be careful little mother, we are near the border, and I smell humans nearby.”
The wolf stroked him with her muzzle before pulling away and returning with her pack. Hakken watched them walk away, motionless, until the last wolf disappeared into the foliage.
He escaped the Path, feeling even more miserable. The wolf had golden eyes; the same eye color tormenting his dreams.
CHAPTER V
BETROTHED
Maeve
Her entire life, Maeve never spent so much time in her room, and she was going crazy with boredom. The reality of living with the Callums overcame her worst nightmares.
Lord Callum was—for lack of a better expression—a tyrant. The way he managed his lands and his people were irrational and egotistical. When compared to her father, she could understand why both men never saw eye to eye.
An arrogant and greedy man who didn’t tolerate opinions or dissent. In a few months, Maeve witnessed him make business deals that would bankrupt the wealthiest of families. Lord Callum only dodged total ruin by exploiting his workers and living on debts. Debts that would forever remain unpaid.
The merging of his lands with those of her family turned out to be a gift from heaven for his finances.
Perceptive as she was, Maeve soon identified management failures. Within a year of hard work and austerity, she could have taken the Callums out of all their debts and improved their production. Then, of course, each of her suggestions fell on deaf ears. Lord Callum lost no opportunity to make her feel like an idiot. Oh! How she would love to erase that greasy smile from his face.
Lady Callum was a robust and nervous woman. Her brazen fanaticism would have overwhelmed the priestesses in the capital. She assigned herself the task of saving the souls of all the inhabitants of their lands. This meant hours of praying and the collection of large tithes.
Maeve was still unsure of the destination of the tithes, but a brief visit to the castle’s chapel gave her the answer. She never visited a more ostentatious temple of prayer. Another pinch went to the magnificent outfits the lady and her companions wore.
Lady Callum’s new schtick was criticizing Maeve. “Sweetheart, did you know I knew your mother? What a perfect lady! How come you didn’t inherit any of her talents?”
Maeve clenched her teeth to contain a scathing answer and put together her most correct smile. “I’m very sorry, lady Callum. Embroidery is not my specialty, although my mother always told me it was the best way to empty one’s mind.”
Oops! Maybe she hadn’t been so correct, but the double meaning of her response went unnoticed to the lady. She left her with a nasal chuckle that made her cringe. Lady Callum clicked her tongue in disapproval before walking away to check the embroidery of one of her ladies. The girl seemed to have embraced the emptiness in her mind entirely.
“So sad!” The hefty lady carried on. “Embroidery is one of the most respectable arts, and you can never consider yourself a genuine lady if you don’t master it. I guess Kieran must find other qualities in his wife.”
“Betrothed...” Maeve muttered. The idea of becoming Kieran’s wife made her shudder.
He was the worst of them all.
Kieran behaved like a gentleman on the day of her arrival. He helped her climb down the carriage while welcoming her with a warm smile. Maeve even though he was fairly attractive. He was a young man, two years older than her, and he did not share his father’s plump features. The years would affect his appearance, but that didn’t matter to her. Maeve only hoped her husband would treat her with respect and affection.
During their first family dinner, Kieran showered her with kindness, and they held a cordial conversation. Maeve allowed herself a couple of smiles, and her discomfort dissipated. Some of Kieran’s friends—heirs of noble families spending the season—hid their snickers while watching their exchange. She assumed they were being immature.
But the genuine nature of her fiancé came to light soon after.
If Maeve considered Lord Callum arrogant and malicious, his offspring was nothing short of insufferable. Kieran somehow inexplicably inherited all the character flaws of both his parents and merged them into his violent personality.
The servants avoided him as much as possible. Kieran never asked for anything without yelling and name-calling. His so-called friends were not safe from his cruelty, constant victims of degrading jokes and caustic comments. Horrified, Maeve witnessed how his bullying drove a young man to tears. When she called him out on his behavior, he chuckled and pinched her cheek with a little too much force.
The other boys never stood against him. Kieran had a way of talking and carrying himself that exuded dominance. In a more worthy individual, she could consider it a positive trait.
Unfortunately, the young Callum held no interest in getting along with anyone. After a few months of living among them, Kieran’s ability to survive astonished Maeve. Then again, it would be more accurate to say she couldn’t understand how everyone around Kieran refrained from bashing his head. He seemed to expect the same blind obedience from Maeve, but she soon made clear he was not engaged to a submissive and brainless girl.
“Maeve! I’ve been calling you for hours! Why don’t you join me when I say?” he shouted.
She didn’t hide her annoyance and didn’t bother to look up from her book. The Callums owned an impressive library, and since none of them cared about reading, it became one of Maeve’s sanctuaries.
He stood in front of her, arms crossed, waiting for her to acknowledge him. Maeve made no move. Kieran needed to learn a little humility.
After a moment, his face took on a reddish tone, very like his father. Losing his composure, he snagged the book from her hands and threw it away. “Kieran! I was reading it! I already told you, if you need to talk to me, you approach me calmly. Don’t holler.”
“And I don’t want to repeat that you must obey me, damn it! You will be my wife, and I will not tolerate your disrespect!”
Maeve let out an unladylike snort. “We can do this every day, Kieran. I will not grow tired, even if they marry us. Do not believe for a moment I will accept you to—”
She was forcefully silenced. Kieran’s hand covered her mouth with a smack and pushed her hard, causing her head to hit the back of the chair. The impact made her gasp and squeeze her eyes. When she opened them—shocked by Kieran’s aggressiveness—she found his face only a few inches away. His disdainful stare showing nothing but malice.
“You... are... going... to... obey me.” The loathing in Kieran’s voice sickened her. His hand clenched, conveying all the contempt his eyes struggled to burn in her mind.
Was this the man with whom she would share the rest of her life? Did she have no choice but to accept a union with that horrible family?
Not even her father had found a better alternative, and the injustice of it all made her blood boil. Angry tears flooded her eyes, but Kieran interpreted it as fear. He smiled wickedly for a moment before releasing his painful grip and caressing her face. “Aww... shush sweetie, don’t cry. You just have to understand your place, and I will treat you like a queen.”
Maeve’s mind froze. Her body throbbed with the need to push him away, but she could not react without landing herself in the worst situation, so she gaped at him while trying to find anything to say.
“I know! I will bring you a magnificent gift! I know we have had some disagreements, but soon you realize you should be on my good side, my darling.”
Kieran left the library feeling victorious and leaving Maeve a
lone and in shock. She rose to her feet and let out a bitter howl. If someone in the castle heard her, they didn’t care.
CHAPTER VI
THE HUNT
Hakken
The morning after his encounter with the wolves, Hakken still wandered near the border. An old habit, back from his childhood. The guardians often patrolled around here, but there were hardly any trespassers anymore. Hakken enjoyed roaming these lands since he could easily find solitude.
But peace could be easily broken. So, as he became aware a sizable group of humans traveled close to the trees, he walked away to avoid them. It was time to return to the village. He had no particular interest in coming back, but walking around doing nothing was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. “Kniv will lecture me again,” he groaned. His old friend didn’t take his getaways very well. Hakken expected a new scolding for constantly putting himself in danger.
The midday sun warmed the earth under his boots, and an unpleasant layer of sweat covered his forehead. Maybe he hated sunny days the most. His stomach growled, reminding him again he hadn’t eaten a warm meal since he left his people. He didn’t mind. At the end of the day, he would gobble up a piece of roasted meat, sitting around a campfire, surrounded by loud children and noisy adults.
A gentle breeze swayed the branches and carried the fresh scent of the Forest in the air; damp dirt and the first flowers of spring. Birds and pixies hovered around him—a wearisome dance of colors and bliss.
Suddenly, tension tinted the placid atmosphere. Hakken’s uneasiness made him shiver as he glanced around. The first thing he sensed was the Path. It bothered him all day, a permanent and subtle pressure that didn’t leave him alone.
This, he never experienced before. The Path urged him to move in one direction. The strain was so overwhelming it forced Hakken to turn, finding himself facing the frantic escape of critters coming from the border.