“I would too if I were in its position,” Svald said.
“I see you found a new pet,” Walter said, entering the cabin with his pipe in hand.
Svald smirked wishing the Hyroc creature was just an animal, that would at least make the whole situation simple. He knew how to deal with animals, not whatever he and his son had found this morning.
Walter shook his head ruefully. “Creatures like that need to be put down like a rabid dog. They’re just not natural.”
“A rabid dog?” Helen said indignantly. “We might not know what it is but I haven’t seen anything about him that suggests he’s crazed, have you?”
Walter cocked eyebrow at her. “Does it really matter?”
“Of course it matters!”
Walter waved his hand dismissively. “Bah, there’s only one way to deal with things like that.”
Helen’s expression hardened. “There will be no killing here as long as I have anything to say about it.”
Walter shook his head in disbelief. “That’s no better than what it deserves.”
“Walter, get out!” Walter gave her a shocked almost hurt look.
“Fine, my advice obviously isn’t wanted here; even though I know I’m right.” Walter turned and headed for the door.
“And I swear if anything happens to him while he’s here, I’ll smother you in your sleep.” Walter paused a moment, before continuing out the door. Svald smiled at her, repressing a laugh. Helen gave him an unamused glare. “What are you smiling at? You were about as helpful as a pine cone.”
“You had it handled just fine,” Svald said. “There really wasn’t anything for me to say.”
“A likely excuse coming from you.”
Svald’s smile broadened. He leaned over and kissed her on the side of her face. Helen smiled, now showing only a hint of annoyance at her husband. She returned her gaze back out the door.
“Do you know how old he is?” she said.
Almost without thinking, Svald began studying the Hyroc creature more closely trying to discern the answer. His eyes slowly wandered over to Donovan who sat nearby on the edge of the porch. Shifting his gaze back to the Hyroc creature, he noticed it was slightly smaller than his son. It reminded him of the size difference between two boys separated by only a few years of age, but something about the difference was troubling. He wondered why such a trivial detail about the Hyroc creature would feel that way to him, if anything it made the creature easier to deal with. He remembered how the creature had sounded when it spoke. Its voice wasn’t as deep as he had expected, and he thought he caught it cracking at times. It became apparent the creature possessed many of the same characteristics as a normal teenager. If that were true, then he had essentially captured a scared child. He shook his head. That couldn’t be what he was seeing. He knew practically nothing about witches and from what little he had been able to gather, they were never quite what they appeared to be. For all he knew, this thing was playing some sort of trick on his eyes. Something to make him show pity toward it. He had to focus. This thing was dangerous and it needed to be dealt with accordingly. His family was not safe so long as it remained here.
“He doesn’t seem like he should be that old,” Helen said. “Does he?”
“No he doesn’t,” Svald said, shaking his head slowly.
She paused. “He looks like he hasn’t been eating very well.”
Svald felt a twinge of guilt cut through his determination as he remembered hours ago he had used a deer to bait the trap that inevitably captured Hyroc. For some strange reason, the fact the Hyroc creature may be starving put a bitter taste in his mouth. He forced the impression from his mind. That was just another one of its tricks.
He walked over to the kitchen table where the creature’s things lay and removed one of the arrows from the quiver. Maybe its equipment would reveal something about its intentions. Shallow chips in the wood ran the length of the shaft and the feathers were split and bent in places. He knew the marks were caused by the arrow skipping off objects; he had often seen the same thing on his own arrows while hunting small game.
“He’s been hunting rabbits,” Svald said, setting the arrow down on the table. Helen turned from the door, walking over to join him at the table. “There’s lots of them up near the mountain where we captured him. But you can’t to live off those alone.” Helen began examining the arrow he had been looking at.
Svald unsheathed the creature’s hunting knife, examined the blade a moment and slipped it back into its scabbard. Next, he picked up the bow. It was a beautiful hunting tool, made from a rich cherry wood, and he couldn’t help wishing his own looked half as nice. Other than a few scuff marks where the arrow shafts had rubbed against the wood, it seemed very well cared for. This level of care was not what he expected a depraved creature to be capable of. Carefully, he set the bow back down.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Helen said, setting the arrow down and turning toward him. “I feel like we’re looking at this whole thing wrong. If he meant anyone harm, why would he save Elsa from that wolf?”
The wolf attack was the strangest details of the whole situation. In none of the stories Svald had heard, was the forest monsters ever depicted saving people. In fact, they usually devoured or dismembered anyone they came across and were always something in need of killing by a brave soul, not something to be helped. He wanted the attack to be untrue; a lie would be easier to deal with. An unplanned wolf killing accounted for the dead wolf and a wish to remain hidden explained the wasted carcass. And to further complicate the issue, if saving his daughter from the wolf was true, there was a chance so too was everything else it had said.
“That’s for the elders to decide,” Svald said.
“I know but –”
Donavan stuck his head in the door, interrupting Helen. “Harold’s here,” he said eagerly. Svald nodded and Donovan disappeared back outside.
“I just don’t think he’s done anything wrong,” Helen said. “He kept Elsa from getting hurt, that has to mean something doesn’t it?”
Svald shrugged. “Harold knows more about these kinds of things; let’s see what he has to say about this. Maybe we’re missing something he’ll see.”
“Maybe,” she said agreeing, but the skepticism was clear in her voice.
Harold and three others stopped at the front door, staring in disbelief at the Hyroc creature. The three others whispered to one another in alarmed tones. Harold seemed unfazed almost curious. He was a tall broad-shouldered man, with black hair tinged by strips of gray.
“Harold,” Svald called out in greeting. “Please come inside, we need to talk with you.” Harold slowly turned away from the creature toward him. He said something to the three others who nodded in response, before heading inside the cabin.
Harold indicated the Hyroc creature with his hand as he came through the door. “I assume that’s why I’m here.”
“Yes, please sit,” Svald said, indicating a chair at the table.
“How’d you come across that?”
Svald briefly explained the thief’s tracks, how he had captured him up until the three of them arrived back at the home, leaving out the wolf carcass and his daughter’s involvement.
“Well, I’m glad you brought this to my attention first,” Harold said gratefully. “Wouldn’t have done any good to cause a panic.”
“Do you know what he is?” Svald said.
Harold scratched his chin thoughtfully. “There are some types of witches I’ve came across that he might be. How did he act when you captured him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was he aggressive, any snarling, growling, roaring, biting, that sort of thing?”
“He struggled a little to get free, not that I can blame him much for that, but nothing like what you just described. Once I got him back here he answered a few questions.”
“He can talk?” Harold said taken aback.
“Yeah, I was just as surprised when he did.�
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“Did he growl or slur his words, or speak in a manner that reminded you of animal noises?”
“No, nothing like that, he pretty much sounded the way we do now.”
Harold rubbed his chin in contemplation. “You probably got a better look at him than I did just now, but how were his clothes when you found him? Were there any noticeable gashes in the material, were they dirty or have any large spots of dried blood.”
“I saw nothing out of the ordinary with that.”
“Did he stink?”
“Well, I didn’t go out of my way to figure that one out,” Svald said, repressing the urge to laugh. “But now that I think about it, he did have a little bit of a smell to him. It reminded me of that soggy fur smell you get from a wet dog, but it was subtle. Nothing like the stink you get from a bear.”
“Did he walk hunched over or on all fours?”
“He walked like a normal person as far as I could tell.”
Harold shrugged. “That doesn’t match any of the kinds of witches I know about. Whenever they resemble an animal, like our friend out there does, it always affects more than their appearance. They act and sound like an animal, walking on all fours, dried blood all over their clothing from eating live prey, a stench from not bathing, and so on. They never lack any of those characteristics. Our friend must be something I’ve never seen before.” He indicated the Hyroc creature’s things. “Did you find those on it?”
“Yes.”
Harold unsheathed the sword, turned the blade over, carefully examining it then slid it back into its scabbard; doing the same with the knife. When he looked through the quiver, he pulled out several arrows that appeared to be steel tipped and two with heads made of silver.
“This is for piercing armor,” Harold said, holding up a steel tipped arrow. He set it down and picked up a silver tipped one. “And this is a Shadow Killer arrow.”
“Shadow Killer?” Svald said.
“They’re for killing undead creatures and what most people would call a shadow demon. I know for a fact these are not his, only witch hunters carry these.”
“So he stole them?”
Harold nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he stole everything we see here. Has anything gone missing from around your house lately?”
“Nothing as far as I know.”
“I haven’t noticed anything either,” Helen added.
Harold stared thoughtfully at the arrow. “It probably took the Shadow Killer’s for the silver in their arrowheads, and that also tells me it’s not a demon; they wouldn’t even touch those.” He set the arrow back down. “But it seems like it stole everything else because it thought it might need them.”
“With all the bears and wolves around the mountain,” Helen said. “I know I’d feel better with a sword.”
Svald and Harold nodded.
“How long do you think it’s been up there?” Harold said.
“As far as I can figure, less than a month,” Svald said.
“If he hasn’t stolen anything by now I doubt he’s going to,” Helen noted.
“Or he just doesn’t have a reason to yet,” Harold said.
“Or he knows it’s wrong.” Both Harold and Svald raised a questioning eyebrow at her.
“Wait, are you implying someone taught it that?”
She nodded. “Why else would he refrain from stealing from us, he’s had plenty of opportunities to do so.”
“Fear is an excellent motivation to avoid going near something dangerous.”
“Then why would he save my daughter from a wolf?”
Svald cringed; he trusted Harold but he still wanted to keep the wolf a secret if he could.
“Wolf? What wolf?”
Svald sighed. It was out now. “Elsa told me she was attacked by a wolf,” he said. He indicated the Hyroc creature with his hand. “And he killed it. We both know she would never make something like that up.”
“I don’t understand; if he was trying so hard to stay hidden, why kill a wolf right on your doorstep when there’s nothing to gain from it, and risk being discovered.”
“Because he knew it was the right thing to do,” Helen said. “He wasn’t thinking about himself. Does there need to be any other reason?”
“Morality is never a strong characteristic of these things and I find the creature’s actions with the wolf baffling, but why was it hanging around your cabin in the first place? It must have wanted something.”
“Well, when I talked to him, he told me he was trying to see how we tan our hides because he didn’t know how to do it himself.”
Harold gave him a bewildered look. “That has to be a lie; it has to be something else.”
“Why is that so unbelievable?” Helen said. “He was scared of us, and he needed to learn something, so he watched us to learn that thing. It makes pretty good sense to me.”
Harold shrugged. “Even if you’re right and that’s really what he was doing, I doubt the other elders will see it your way.”
Helen’s expression hardened. “So that’s it, you’re just going to let them decide his fate. He did something to help somebody – my daughter – and now you’re going to pretend it never happened.”
“I never said I wasn’t going to help him,” Harold said indignantly. “I’ve seen plenty of people being wrongfully convicted of witchcraft. And from what the two of you have told me thus far about our friend out there, I don’t think he’s deserving of punishment. I will do my best to show the others there’s a good chance he’s not going to hurt anyone, but I cannot make any promises. In the end, it may not matter what I say. The rest of the village may not want him here at all. And after what happened the last time a situation like this arose, I wouldn’t blame them.”
Helen nodded, but her expression was still unhappy. Harold stood up from the chair as did everyone else. “Svald you should come with me, since you’re the one who found him. The others will want you to explain your experience with the creature.”
Svald nodded. “I’ll be out in a moment,” he said. Harold nodded and headed out the door.
“You have to help him,” Helen said. “He protected our daughter, that’s worth something. If he could do something selfless I know he must have a good heart. I think he deserves to stay.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“For his sake you need to.”
Svald kissed her on the cheek before heading outside after Harold.
With a movement of his chin, Harold indicated the three villagers he had brought with him. “I’ll leave them here to keep an eye on our friend until the town elders decide what to do with him.”
Svald nodded appreciatively at the thoughtfulness toward his family. “Donavan, Curtis,” Svald called out to his boys, who promptly joined him. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Keep your guard up, understood.” Donavan and Curtis nodded their understanding. Then he and Harold headed off toward the road.
Harold wore a troubled look on his face as they walked. “You saw it too didn’t you?” Svald said. “In his eyes.”
Harold shrugged. “He looked like a damn scared kid,” he said. His expression saddened. “And I – and I’ve only seen that once.”
Svald nodded understandably. “When I talked with him earlier, a few times I thought I was scolding one of my kids. And he – he called me sir.”
Harold gave him a strange look. “He addressed you as sir?”
“Yeah, I thought I was hearing things the first time he said it.”
“So, now you’re telling me he’s also polite and respectful?” Harold shook his head in disbelief. “Your wife might have been onto something after all. This doesn’t feel right, none of it.”
“Then maybe we should try and make it right.”
“You make that sound so easy.”
“…I then sent my son Curtis to get Harold and once he arrived, we came to the village to notify everyone here,” Svald said, finishing his account of his encounter with the Hyroc creature for the seco
nd time, making sure to leave out his daughter’s involvement.
A large fireplace, with a stuffed boar’s head mounted above the hearth, cast dancing orange shadows across the long center table and the tables scattered throughout the emptied Black Spruce Tavern. He, Harold, and four village elders sat gathered at the end of the center table, with a pint of beer in front of them.
There was a long pause. “So we have another witch,” Anton said. He was a portly man, with a bald spot on the top of his head. Svald had always thought Anton was a little on the shaky side, but despite that, he usually had the best interests of his fellow villagers in mind.
“I wouldn’t exactly call him a witch,” Harold said.
“What else would you call that thing? You don’t get that way on your own unless you’re dabbling in something dark. We should notify The Ministry and let them deal with it.”
Harold’s expression hardened. “That is a terrible idea, Anton. If they find him here, sure they’ll deal with him for us, but how do we know they’ll stop there and won’t think one of us was participating in whatever arts the creature was. Before we know it, we’ll have people throwing accusations at each other for fear of being suspected. And it’ll be all the more damning when they find out we said nothing about that little incident with the necromancer. I’m telling you, we’re better off dealing with this ourselves.”
“I agree with Harold,” Yary, the owner of the tavern, said. Yary was a tall burly man, with black hair and a large bushy beard. “We dealt with that necromancer without anyone’s help; we can deal with this creature.”
“And that is why we have come together this day,” Luna said. “What to do about our new arrival?”
Luna was a slender older woman with long strands of silvery gray hair falling down to her shoulders. Svald thought she was the wisest person in town, often coming up with solutions to problems no one had ever thought of.
“All right then, if we’re going to deal with this ourselves,” Anton said. “I think the best solution is to kill it and be done with it.” Svald cringed at Anton’s words. Hyroc had saved his daughter from a wolf, why did he deserve to die for keeping her from harm? But if he said anything about it, then they would know about his daughter’s involvement. Was Hyroc’s life more important than hers? No, he had an obligation to her. She would hate him for it, but he could handle that, he would remain silent, for her.
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