Stil's Heart

by Rosetta Bloom

  * * *

  Thankfully, he found Lisle at the barn. She was inside, brushing down a horse. Not the runaway that had been there a few nights before. This one, he supposed, was hers. A beautiful brown beast with calm, knowing eyes. It whinnied when Stil entered.

  Lisle turned to see who had come. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, a slight uptick in her voice. She stepped away from the stall and came within a foot of him. She was sleeveless at the moment, in what looked almost like a night top with a pair of trousers. It wasn’t what she usually wore. But he usually didn’t see her grooming the horse.

  He didn’t have time to think too much on her attire. He had more pressing matters. He smiled seductively. “Did you mean what you said earlier?” he asked.

  “About what?” She closed the narrow space he’d left between them, and he could feel her breath on his face as she spoke.

  “About still being available if I wanted some fun.”

  She raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Something different,” he said, his hand gracefully gliding down the side of her bare arm. He grinned playfully, hoping to put her at ease. “Would you like that?”

  “Maybe,” she said, then leaned in and kissed him. “So long as it involves this.”

  He nodded. “Oh, it definitely does.”

  He pulled the paper Gray had given him from his pocket and handed it to her. “Meet me here at 7 o’clock, alright? It will give us more privacy.”

  She looked at the scrap of paper. “Where is this?”

  “Just outside of town,” he said. “The directions say to follow that old path where the church used to be.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I know the place,” she said. “There’s a little abandoned cabin up there. I’ll be there. Seven o’clock.”

  He turned and left the barn. Part of him felt guilty, sacrificing Lisle. But the rest of him knew she was trouble. At least this way, he wouldn’t have to worry what she’d tell Gothel. He and Gothel would be long gone.

  He’d convince Gothel to leave tonight. He knew that Gray wasn’t quite finished with him, but if he and Gothel got a head start, they could go someplace old Gray would never think to look. The key was just to take flight.

  Chapter 10 - Flight

  He knew he had to plan things carefully, that he didn’t want anyone to connect what happened to Lisle to him. Even if she pointed to him, he wanted no concrete proof. So he headed back to Fred’s bakery and sat with him. Told him he’d led his friends out of town and they were long gone. His plan was to stay until the appointed hour of Gray’s meeting, and then go get Gothel.

  “You got somewhere you need to be?” Fred asked him, concern on his face.

  Stil looked up, startled. He shook his head, confused. “No,” he said. “Why?”

  The old man shrugged. “You just seem all pent up. You keep shaking that foot of yours and you’re kneading your hands and everything about you looks tense. Like you need to take flight any minute.”

  Stil stopped tapping his foot and tried to relax. But, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sit still and chat with the old man. He swallowed and said. “I’ve been feeling a bit nervous about Gothel,” he said. “She’s gotten to my heart a little.”

  “Ahh,” the older gentleman said, his swirl of white hair bobbing as he nodded. “I’ve noticed. You talk about her a lot, and you see a lot of her at the pub, right?”

  “Yeah, a bit,” he said.

  “Going to court her?”

  “If old Geoffrey lets me,” Stil said, a little hesitantly.

  “Ah, I’m sure he will,” Fred said. “He likes you and you do good work for me. Giselle seems destined to be an old maid. Pretty as a picture, but shuns every would-be suitor. You and Gothel, though. The two of you could take over when Geoffrey and Mary get old. You’re good with people, like he is. And ole Gothel is a brilliant cook. At least, she’s brilliant with seasonings. The herbs she grows for the pub, they make the meals so savory. Ah …”

  The old man was prattling on, which is what Stil wanted. He didn’t want to participate in the conversation much. Just nod appropriately when needed. He could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead. If Lisle told people it was him who sent her …

  No. No she wouldn’t tell. She wouldn’t be believed. She had a bad reputation. And maybe she wouldn’t even be upset. Maybe she’d like it. She’d always been up for a good time.

  A pang of guilt stabbed him in the chest, as he tried to swallow that thought. Not even he could force that lie to go down smooth. He knew she wouldn’t like it. It was an ambush, not something she’d agreed to, and Gray had brought two others with him. He’d done her wrong. Even if she could have messed things up with Gothel, she hadn’t actually done it yet. Did she really deserve what Gray was doing to her just because she’d threatened to tell what he’d done? Just because he was frightened of Gray. He shoved the thought from his head and stood up. “I’m sorry, Fred,” he said. “I need to go.”

  He couldn’t stay here. Gray wasn’t trustworthy. Even with Lisle, he’d still want more. He’d still come looking. He’d messed things up for Lisle, but he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Gothel. He’d go to the pub now and somehow convince her to come with him. They could go somewhere else, get married. They wouldn’t be here, but they’d be together and they’d be happy. She trusted him. She’d be hesitant at first, but he was sure he could get her to leave with him. They could come back in a few years. Maybe Lisle would be gone, or have forgotten and forgiven. But he couldn’t imagine staying here and facing the preacher’s daughter. He couldn’t imagine Gothel looking at him as her protector, knowing what he’d done to Lisle. The part of him that said Lisle deserved whatever happened to her had been shrinking since he’d left her. He was now coming to realize that even a wolf didn’t deserve what he’d sent her to. It was a lion’s den.

  By the time he got to the pub, it was pretty full inside. He was wading through the crowd to get to the kitchen when he spied Lisle from the corner of his eye.

  Lisle! What was she doing here? His body percolated with fear. Gray was going to kill him. He needed to find Gothel even quicker. They had to get out of here.

  He headed toward the rear, where he saw Mary and Giselle, but no sign of Gothel. He walked over to Giselle and tapped her shoulder, even though she was getting an order from a customer.

  “Where’s Gothel?” he asked.

  She turned to him, a frown marring her pretty face. “Ask your friend over there,” she said, tipping her head back toward the bar.

  He turned to look and spied the parson’s daughter. A pit began to form in his stomach. “Lisle?”

  “Yeah, came in here an hour and a half ago, wanted to talk to Gothel about you. After they talked, Gothel left, but she’s not back yet. I’m starting to worry, but I can’t leave Pa shorthanded.”

  He turned to see Lisle sitting at the bar, looking as cool as a cucumber, and tried not to let the terror building deep within take over. There had to be a reasonable explanation. It couldn’t be the worst. It just couldn’t be. He offered Giselle what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll see what she said to her. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  He bustled through the crowd to Lisle. His insides felt ice cold, and he tried to ignore the churning in his gut. “I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice low, but unflinching.

  “I’m having my supper,” she pouted, even though only a glass of ale sat before her on the bar.

  “It will just take a minute,” he said, his voice firm. He didn’t care who saw them together. He had to find out what she’d done.

  She smiled at him, shrugged, and then hopped down from the bar stool and went outside with him. They walked a decent distance from the pub and prying ears.

  “What did you say to her?” he growled.

  She stared at him in confusion. “Didn’t you see her already?”

  He shook his head, and grabbed her arm so tightly his own hand began to hurt.


  “Owwww,” she moaned.

  “Don’t play games with me,” he spat. “What did you say to her?” He let go of her arm, figuring he could grab it again, if she didn’t tell him.

  “The truth, alright?” she said, rubbing her arm, and taking a step back. She frowned, squinting at him mistrustfully. “I told her you weren’t any good, that you’d propositioned me tonight and told me to meet you. She said she didn’t believe me, so I gave her your instructions so she could see for herself.”

  His eyes widened and the terror could be held back no more. “No!” he cried out. “How could you?” he whelped.

  But she didn’t have time to answer, because he’d turn and began to run. Run as fast as he could, remembering the details on the paper, running to save her, but knowing there was no salvation. It was too late.

  He ran for almost twenty minutes straight. He could tell he was close. He heard voices in the distance. It was laughter, and he could feel the bile in his throat. The post-coital laughter of evil men. He tried to force the fear, the dread at seeing what he’d caused from his mind, but this little path only made it worse. It was a crooked, narrow path that skirted the edge of the dark forest. The dappling of the path almost looked like bloodstains. Otherwise, the little path was totally clear. There was no overgrowth or vegetation that dared to grow on it. Everything looked as dead as he felt.

  Finally he reached a clearing and a little shack stood there in the woods. He could see a candle flickering through the window. On the stoop, stood Gray, a big smile on his face, and his two compatriots were stepping out the front door, one of the men buttoning his trousers as he did so. Stil thought he might vomit, as the cold, hard truth, of what happened sunk in.

  “Stil,” Gray said, his eyes gleaming. “Well, I must be honest with you. I hadn’t intended to let it go. I hadn’t intended to forgive your impudence with this. But, when I see you now, the look on your face, the brokenness to you, I know that you and I are even. She said she was your lass, that you loved her, and I did my best to show her that you are simply evil, and I had my way with her in the harshest terms. I thought she was lying, thinking it would make me go easy on her, but your face says she wasn’t. Your face says. I have wrought on you the misery that you so deserve.” He chuckled at this. “So I leave you here, alive, to live with the misery you have caused.”

  Stil swallowed, his eyes barely able to focus on the men in front of him. He wanted to lunge at them, to kill them all, but he knew he was outnumbered. Though even more than hurting them, he wanted to find her, to rescue her. He charged toward them, Gray squinting his eyes as if he thought Stil would attack, but as he realized the younger man was just trying to get into the cabin, he cackled heartily and stepped aside.

  Stil pushed the door open, and there on the floor, a shell of what she had been, she lay amidst the remnants of her clothes and cloak. They’d been torn to shreds in Gray’s attack. There were scrapes and bruises on her naked body and the trails of dried tears stained her face. At some point, she must have stopped crying, because her eyes were devoid of moisture now. In fact, they were devoid of everything. Her eyes stared out into nothingness and she lay still. Her lips moved ever so slightly, he thought perhaps saying some type of prayer, but he could hear no sounds coming from her. Her chest rose and fell, indicating she was breathing, but that was the only indication that she was alive.

  As he looked at her, he wondered if she could really be called alive. Had he killed everything good in her? He unbuttoned his shirt and slowly walked toward her. He knelt beside her as he slipped out of his shirt and draped it over her. “Gothel,” he whispered.

  At the sound of his voice, her head snapped to attention, her eyes immediately tracking to him. The nothing look on her face morphed into anger, disgust. She sat up, tossed away his shirt draping her, and scooted away from him “You,” she hissed.

  “Gothel,” he said, trying to be gentle, but also trying to be strong, trying to be strong for her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  She shook her head and her eyes were full of hatred as she stared at him. “You knew,” she said, her voice cold, hard, and certain.

  “Yes, I knew,” he admitted, the words coming out quickly, as he reached out to her. “But I didn’t mean this for you. It was meant for her, for Lisle.”

  Her eyes managed to widen into more shock and dismay. “And if this were her sitting here, broken and violated, I should be happy? I should be happy to know that you set this upon her?”

  He shrunk back from her incredulity. He spoke softly, unsure, in reply. “You said yourself she was a wolf.”

  “So what!” Her voice boomed, echoing through the room. “So a wolf deserves this? To be thrown to another pack to be devoured. And even if she was a wolf, she saw you for what you are, and she decided for one moment to be a guard dog for me and came to warn me. Only I was too stupid. I fell for your slick words and lies. I was too proud to believe I’d been fooled.”

  Stil was shaking his head, trying to will this scene away, trying to will what was happening away. “It wasn’t lies,” he said, truly meaning it. “I love you, Gothel. I love you so much. I can see my life with you. I can see us together. You’re the only person that’s ever thought I was good, that’s ever believed in me.”

  She laughed joylessly as she looked at him, staring as if she wondered if he were real. “You know, I used to see us together, too. You and me, helping Ma and Pa run the pub. Eventually a baby, a beautiful baby with my blond hair and your green eyes. I would picture it sometimes when we gardened. I imagined all the beauty that our life could be. Only it was all a lie. None of it was real.”

  “I swear to you, it was real,” he declared, conviction in his voice. He tentatively reached toward her. The anguish of seeing her like this ripped through his insides. He wanted only to hold her and let her know that he was sorry, so sorry, that he would never let her be hurt like this again. If he could just touch her again, if he could just touch her cheek and stroke her softly, help her forget all the pain. If he could hold her and promise her that he’d never let his wickedness touch her again. “I have never met a person more in tune with me. I didn’t fake that. I couldn’t fake that. Gothel you were right about me. I’m not a wolf. I was just lost. I’m a man, a man who’s made mistakes.”

  She spit at him. “You are no man,” she said. “Don’t compare yourself to a man. You are evil, Rumpelstiltskin. A name as ugly as you are. A name that befits you. You were right to warn me away, only I wouldn’t listen. But don’t worry, I’ve figured it out. I will never, ever let you come near me again.”

  Her eyes were anguish and pain, and it hurt him to look at her. He could feel every bit of sorrow and loathing rolling off her body in strong waves. A tear was forming at the corner of Stil’s eye, and his face mirrored her agony. He had caused this, and he wanted to make her pain go away. He wanted her to understand. “Gothel,” he said. “Please. I know this is my fault, but I can make it better. I can take care of you. I promise.” He moved a little closer to her, and she stood and backed to the wall, her arms crossing her chest to cover her still naked body.

  He swallowed, knowing he’d done this to her. He lifted his shirt to her. “Please, so you’re warm,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want anything from you. And if you really meant what you said, if you really think you loved me, then you’ll leave and never come back. I never want to see you again. I will never forgive you for this.”

  She started toward him and he watched her silently, uncertain what she intended. He thought she might reach out and slap him, or punch him, or unleash all her fury on him. He deserved that. He steadied himself for it.

  But she didn’t do anything. Instead, she walked past him, her back straight, her body determined. After a moment, he turned and called to her. “Gothel, please, wait.”

  She turned to him, disdain in her eyes. “Your words have no meaning for me anymore. You think you are in misery now. You think
your guilt means something to me, that the fact that you regret what you have done somehow makes your misery the same as mine. You don’t understand misery, Stil. You’re too selfish to understand the pain you cause. You weren’t honest with me about what you were running from. Then you tried to hurt Lisle to save yourself. And even when you could have come to me and explained, you didn’t. You are the lowest thing on earth, and no misery is too great for you. You will feel misery, one day, though. I will make sure of it. One day.”

  With that, she gathered her dignity around her as if she were donning the cloak she always wore. Turning, she walked out of the room as if she were not drenched in bruises and blood and bereft of clothing.

  His mouth hung open in stunned silence. His shock paralyzed him, leaving him there for a good minute. He was trying to decide whether to go after her, to try again, when he heard an ominous neigh and the ghostly clomp of hooves outside. Frightened for himself, but also for Gothel, he ran to the door and into the darkness.

  He looked left and right and saw no one. Not Gray and his cronies, but not Gothel, either. He ran in the direction of the terrifying ghostly horse sounds, but he saw no one. He called her name. Over and over, but no response. Every step he took, he looked for signs of her, but found none.

  She was lost to him. This village would be lost to him if she told.

  No. When she told. Gothel wasn’t like Lisle. Her father cared. Her father wouldn’t write her off as a sinner. The town would know him for who he really was — a man who used others. And even though he hadn’t intended to use Gothel, his intent hadn’t mattered. Now, Stil had to go. His time in Sern had come to an end.

  Chapter 11 - Reckoning

  He thought about Gothel every day. He knew it was stupid. He knew he had no right to think of her. Not when the cruelty he’d aimed at another had instead been inflicted on the woman he loved. But he still loved her. He still wanted her. He wondered if he could go back, if now that some time had passed, that if he groveled she would take him back.