|
|
Wolfwitch
They crossed the shallow bay carefully and openly. The Bay Folk spied them though the rushes and grass, but could see that they weren’t prepared to attack them. The boat moved apparently of its own accord, with need of neither wind nor oar. The boat landed at the wharf on the east side of the bay, and its passengers disembarked. The Shipwright stayed with his craft, moving it back out away from the land.
They had dressed lightly in homespun and soft leather breeks, since the area they traveled through was not particularly dangerous. Most carried swords and dirks, two had bows and some arrows. The lost child’s mother, herself a Siren, accompanying them. Little could stand against her, especially since in her mind they would be standing between her and her child. Daffyd, the leader of the expedition, had seen an enraged Siren in the last war with the Dark Guild. It still haunted him, but nothing in the woods, with the exception of the one which he ventured to see, would dare to confront them.
The siren wore her “uniform”, a long, gauzy dress from imported silk, soft leather slippers, and her magnificent ground-length hair. The siren’s eyes were the color of spring grass, with the strange star-like pupils that marked her kind. Her face was long and thin, as was the rest of her, her complexion clear and soft and the color of ripe peaches and fresh cream. Many men found Sirens beautiful.
Daffyd was not one of them, not since seeing one in battle.
The walk to the dwelling of the one they sought was not far, but it was over ever-changing terrain. First up one hill, and down the next, over creeks and through narrow valleys. They passed through groves of tall pine trees, where he wind whispered through the needles high above. In some places, the travel led through some of the heaviest woods around. That was the way the Wolfwitch preferred it. Of course, the Siren floated a few inches off the ground, and the other men vied for the honor of clearing a path for her.
They finally reached their destination: the Wolfwitch's den. It was a sandstone cave, carved out by a waterfall. The water was little more than a trickle that fell noisily into a pond, and the cave was now high and dry.
Daffyd stepped into the clearing before the cave and shouted, "Grace upon you, good woman!”
No response.
“I am Daffyd ap Slbrsf, come to call upon you, as did my father.”
“Go away!” growled someone in the cave.
“If you please, we have need of your skills again.”
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. What happened? Did a beef-drake wander from its herd again, or another northern giant ignore the wards? It’s your problem; you take care of it. Now go away and leave me alone.”
Daffyd heard the intake of breath behind him. He turned to see the Siren inhaling.
“Do not!” he said through clenched teeth. The Siren glared at him, and he glared back. The look in her eye made his stomach seem to fall to the ground, but he held her gaze. She exhaled slowly, and without a sound. Daffyd’s heart started beating again.
“Please,” he shouted in the direction of the cave, “a child is lost in the Grove of Lights. You are the only one who can venture into the void and save her.”
“A child?” This time the voice was from the mouth of the cave. No one could be seen.
“Ylyhn, the daughter of Pwl and Ylynr.”
“Isn’t that Ylynr the Siren, and she who stands behind you?”
“Aye, it is.”
“You let an inexperienced Siren wander into the Grove of Lights?! What next; will you sleep out in the open on a summer’s night? Go ahead, Siren, sing!”
Daffyd turned to see Ylynr preparing to do just that. “Lady Ylynr, If you want to see your daughter again, I suggest you keep a reign on your temper. You did, after all, let her wander into the grove unattended.”
Ylynr seemed to deflate. She walked to the center of the clearing, and sang a quiet, sad song. Images appeared around her as she sang, showing what she would give to get her daughter back. Showers of gold, silver, and gems seemed to spill out of the sky. A fine home amid vast rolling hills appeared out of nowhere.
“None of that! I name my price.”
“Of course, my lady,” said Daffyd. “She merely meant to show the extent to which she was willing to reward you for her daughter’s return.
“You have but to name it, and your price will be met.”
“I want five yearsr of the child’s life.”
Daffyd stepped forward, clutching his dirk by the scabbard. It’s weighted pommel might render the Siren unconscious before anything could happen. Ylynr seemed shocked speechless. Daffyd was relieved.
“Say again, my lady.”
“It gets lonely here sometimes. I want the child to live with me for five years, keep me company.”
Ylynr was shaking her head, her eyes beginning to blaze.
“Go ahead, Siren,” taunted the voice from the cave. Now, glowing red eyes and the glint of sharp white teeth could barely be discerned in the dark. “Remember, though, that no one else can cross the barriers between the worlds at their own will. It may be years before the next time the lights dance in the grove, or even longer before someone is born with my gift. What will happen to your daughter by then? Lady Ylynr, you and your husband will be welcome to come visit every Sabbath, but the child will stay with me.”
Ylynr began to cry, but she nodded her acquiescence.
Daffyd reached out and held Ylynr’s shoulders. “It shall be done, my lady,” he said. “and the rest of the ritual shall be performed as well.” For the next few weeks, two meals a day would be brought to this clearing. The best meat and vegetables would go into their making. Ale would be served for the early meal and cold winter wine for the late one. Every night, a bard would sing a quiet song while sitting on a rock near the cave’s entrance. Maidens from the town would come once a week to clean the cave and its inhabitant. And one night a week, the handsomest man in the town would sit in the cave mouth and talk to the Wolfwitch about whatever struck her fancy. These rituals were much easier before this particular Witch Walker was cursed. The curse also modified some of the rituals.
“I need to know how long it has been since the child was lost,” said the Wolfwitch from her cave.
“It has been ten days, my lady.”
“It took ten days to figure out she was gone, or to figure out what happened?”
“The child was… being willful. She had been denied something, and was…”
“Running away from home,” finished the Wolfwitch. “What was it, a boy?”
Ylynr’s head whipped up and glared at the cave. The red eyes merely looked back.
“It will be nearly three cycles of the moon before I can make the crossing. Go and make your preparations,” commanded the Wolfwitch.
The people left.
Some time after the clearing was emptied, the Wolfwitch left her cave. Her face and chest were those of a woman, quite a pretty woman, despite the fur that covered her skin. She walked on all fours, her rear legs wolf-like, but her front limbs were human. At the creek she stopped and drank from cupped hands. She shook her hands and wiped them dry on her flanks.
She looked the way the people had gone.
She would have found the child for nothing, but Ylynr ap Uuslvll was one of those responsible for her present situation. It pleased her to have the other woman forced to crawl to her. And why shouldn’t she? After all, The Wolfwitch thought as she went back into her cave, it was Ylynr’s doing that she would crawl ‘til the end of her days
Headlines: ACTimes 050107.htm
Local News: Stuck Inside of Mobile
Statewide Report: Captain Alabama
Business: Dixie Publications
The Arts: Books on or about Azalea City
Sports: The Sports Scene
The Media: Azalea City Television and Radio
Weather: Hurricane Heather
In Times Past: Prologue
Special Report: Resurrection Day