Cold November

Cold November

By Charlotte Beech

Copyright 2012 Charlotte Beech

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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-1-

The night was cold and howls spread through the darkness. The boy was a long way from home, and his heart beat a tattoo upon his rib cage as he thought back to what he had seen. The sheer depravity of it! Those animals at their feast and the carnage that lay around them. He felt vomit rise into his gullet, but forced it back as he knew he would die if he stopped running. The sounds of breaking foliage came from all around, and a whimper of pure terror escaped his young lips as he pushed his body, urging his legs to carry him faster to the safety and lights of Dushmando. A tree root caught his foot, and he spiralled down to the forest floor. Fear seized him, and adrenalin pushed him back onto his feet. The creatures were closer now, he could feel them in the foliage to either side, their cruel red eyes laughing at his flight, their claws waiting to seize and rip his young flesh.

The lights of Dushmando shone in the distance and hope swelled inside him with the vague notion that he may make it through this night. The bustle of the city reached his ears, and he broke free of the line of trees marking the forest realm from the human colony. The field that lay between him and home was rutted, and he knew that one slip would cost him his life. The beasts still pursued, and he knew that if he were caught the guards which sat on the walls around the colony would not be able to see him, the light from their torches not penetrating this far into the darkness.

Suddenly he felt himself fall, a clawed hand grasped around his ankle. He clawed at the earth, ten furrows left by unwilling hands as he kicked out at his assailant. A surprised yelp came from behind, and he sprung to his feet. He tried to run once more, turning towards the light, but it as too late. The beasts were upon him, and the guards did not hear his one piercing scream as his body was ripped asunder.

She came from the woods with the power to rule. She was treated as one of our own, raised on our food, taught with our cubs. She brought peace and prosperity to the pack. Food was abundant, joy was widespread and she smiled upon us all. The stories she told to our young were full of light and happiness, but she hid the dark inside her…

The day had been long and hard, and Isabella was relieved to find that dusk was nearly there. A day shopping in the Square had left her dusty and tired, and she groaned aloud as she saw the young page rushing towards her, his cheeks red at his exertion. All this told her he was from the castle, but the colour of his clothes told her who had sent him. Her husband had sent many notes this way, and this one would surely be exactly like them all.

The forest was dark as dusk descended over the sleepy town of Dushmando. The girl strode purposefully through the trees, tired of this game, and tired of his whining. She glanced angrily around; certain she would find the one who had caused her such aggravation. The wet cloak. Her husband, Ricardo, had bid her meet him tonight here as he did every night, and this was the night she had become tiresome of his continual requests. She had caught him in a delicate position with one of their kitchen girls, and had banished him from their matrimonial bed forever. His constant declarations of eternal love and apologies had worn her down to this but in her heart, she knew she would always love him. The betrayal he had dealt her was almost too much to forgive. Shaking her head, as if to banish her thoughts, she continued her journey to the glade in which he once courted her. She would hear what he had to say at least, before turning her back on him for eternity.

Ricardo stood in the glade, blowing on his hands to repel the cold. Tonight she would come to him, the one he had dreamed of since he had listened to lust instead of his head. He smiled to himself as he thought of the surprise he had waiting for her in the stable at the castle. Once caught in his treachery, his first thought had been stopping her father from knowing. His wife’s father was the lord of this manor, and he knew if his infidelity were known, he would be disgraced and banished, or worse. He truly loved his wife, but she was ten years his junior, and sometimes seemed a child to him. She was seventeen when they were married, and he was a knight in her father’s army. He heard footsteps cracking twigs underfoot nearby and turned to the noise with a smile on his face. She stepped out of the trees, and he saw the hatred burn in her eyes. He had wronged her, he knew this, but the coldness in her stare was shocking. His smile faltered as she approached.

‘My Lord, why do you call me here at this late hour? It is cold and my father will soon hear of my disappearance’.

‘One last plea, Isabella. Give me your heart, or I shall leave tonight and never return!’ With this, he leaped onto the boulder behind him, encouraged to see an amused smile flicker across her face at his antics. She had always loved his humour. Her smile gave way to laughter as he pulled a face at her, and leapt down from the boulder and swept her into his arms. His breath was hot on her face as all thoughts of his discrepancies were replaced by the one thing she had yearned for in the last fortnight of a cold bed. His strong arms encircled her as she stared lustfully into his eyes.

‘Forgive me my love. I want only you’ he whispered, as his lips slowly traversed the distance to hers. She nodded her head slightly, allowing his arms to pull her into him and his lips to open her mouth in a powerful embrace. He lowered her to the forest floor, all the while allowing his kisses to throw down apologies on her lips. As he lowered himself against her side, he pulled away to brush the hair from her eyes. He felt a tingle as his bride smiled at him, knowing he was forgiven, lovers reconciled.

As they lay there dreaming as lovers do, a sudden noise from the darkness of the forest started Isabella.

‘What was that?’ she whispered into her husband’s ear, already feeling his muscles harden in apprehension. He slid his arm away from her back, telling her to stay low and quiet. She saw the same apprehension in his eyes as he stood up and surveyed the darkness in the trees around them. His hand came down on the hilt of his sword as he tracked the movement of someone or something in the darkness. Isabella heard the sword whisper as it slid from its scabbard, and he held it in front of them. She felt frozen to the ground in fear, and the atrocities of last year presented themselves in her mind. Easily forgotten wives tales and gossip of butchered, mutilated corpses found in this wood whispered in her minds ear. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise off the skin, and knew they should just run.

‘Ricardo?’ she whispered, willing him to hear her. ‘Ricardo, move back towards me. We’ll just walk out of here and maybe they’ll leave us alone’. She stood up and her husband backed slowly towards her, all the time his eyes on the forest. She clutched his hand and before they knew it they were running full pelt back towards the citadel. As she ran, Isabella could hear sniggering and just one voice gently calling her name. She didn’t look back, just held Ricardo’s hand as he pulled her through the woods.

Daylight hit her face as the trees petered out, and her husband pulled her over the open scrubland before the town’s walls. She felt the breath pound in her chest as she was dragged along at a speed unnatural to her. She tried to call to her husband as her foot caught a root, and her hand ripped from his as her body slammed to the grassy floor. She moaned as she levered herself up, and saw Ricardo turn, as if he felt her absence. He stopped in his run, turned, and sprinted back to her prone body. She was on her knees when he put his hands under her arms, and pulled her up to begin running. Panic fuelled her as she saw fear in her husbands eyes. All round the clearing the town was situated in a howling arose from the woods, a howling that was neither man nor beast. She could hear his heart pounding as he drew her to his chest. Suddenly, they were moving and he was dragging her along again to the safety of the town’s fortified walls. She passed through the gates as Ricardo screamed for the men to lower the portcullis. She fell against him as he stopped suddenly, fell into his arms, and saw those vivid green eyes she had fallen in love with. Green with golden flecks.

She was betrayed by one who was close to her, and that had hardened her heart. The mirth she surrounded herself with never lived inside her soul. She had been betrayed…

That night he slept in her bed, between the sheets, entwined with her body. The panic of earlier had subsided, and she found that the subject was not bought up for discussion. She felt his chest rise and fall with his breathing as she took in the scent and odours of his body. His chest was pushed against her side, the hair on the top of his head only slightly tickling her nose. She sighed to herself as she played with his hair, contented by his occasional quiet snores. She glanced to the keeps open window, staring out over the fields of the farmers of Dushmando. The stars twinkled at her from a cloudless sky, and the moon bathed her through the window in its pale glow. She gently rolled her husband away from her chest, and moved herself into a sitting position on the beds edge. She stood up gently, careful not to wake Ricardo as she glided quietly towards the window sill. She placed her hands on the cool stone work of the keeps walls, steadying herself as she gazed at the view outside and closed her eyes, so as to listen more intently to the sounds of the forest around the clearing. Ever since she was a child, the calls of night time birds had always soothed Isabella into a deep sleep. She had no idea why she was so restless tonight, putting it down to the surge of emotions from making love to her husband again after his forced absence. Or maybe, a dark part of her mind said, it was due to the panic of earlier untalked about. All of a sudden, howls went up around the clearing, drowning the cries of the nocturnal fowls she so loved. Her eyes snapped open and she backed away from the window as her mind linked these sounds to the howls which stalked her and Ricardo through the woods earlier as they fled. Her hand flew to her breast in fright, her heart sped up. She turned to see if the noise had woken Ricardo, but he still emitted the occasional contented snore. She dragged her gown around her naked body as the fear brought goosepimples to her skin. The howls became louder until they reached a crescendo, then stopped as suddenly as they had started. The silence was as fearful as the noise, and only the beating of her heart interspersed the quiet. Next to her ear, as if whispered, someone female whispered her name ‘Isabella’.

She twirled round quickly, but no-one was behind her, no-one close enough to have whispered so softly in her ear.

-2-

When Ricardo awoke he noticed his wife was not asleep by his side. He sat upright in the covers, and turned his head rapidly as if to search every corner of the room’s stone walls for her presence. He pulled the covers back from his body, revealing a well muscled form, and spotted her immediately. Isabella was crumpled up on the floor by the window, asleep, curled up in on herself, as if for protection. He ran to her prone body, fearing she may have left their bed, tripped, and injured herself in the night. As he pulled her to him, he could feel her warmth, and the steady breathing of one in a deep sleep. He smiled at his bride’s seeming childishness. Sleeping on the floor at her age. Surely the thought of adult activities with her husband did not scare her so? He chuckled at this thought, reliving the activities of the night before and knew this was not so. So how did his wife end up curled up on a bare and cold stone floor? His fears for her of a few moments before surged back into his now fully alert mind. He looked her face over with concern, then laid her back into their bed, pulling the sheets tight around her young body to keep the cold away. He used his hands to inspect her skull, fearing she had fallen and injured her head. Nothing gave under his fingers so he felt sure the bones of the skull were intact. His wife usually slept deeply, sometimes missing her husband completely in the mornings, despite his clamours in their bed chamber, so the way she did not stir did not concern Ricardo. He walked round the bed, determined not to embarrass Isabella by asking for an explanation of her morning position when she finally arose. He lifted the covers on his side of the bed, happy it was a Sunday, and the only disturbance to him would be church that afternoon. He looked at his young bride, and it struck him he had never seen such a face. Yes, there were women in the world far prettier, or with finer bodies, but his wife was uniquely attractive. He felt himself harden and stir under the covers of the bed, and his lust became apparent in his green eyes. He slid his hand up Isabella’s creamy thigh, under her nightgown. He felt her stir as his fingers parted the cleft between her legs, moan as his fingers pushed inside her. Suddenly her head snapped round to face him, startled by his attentions. Awake now, she smiled at him. Moving her body round to face him, she swung her legs over his hip, forcing him onto his back. He gasped in desire as she positioned herself over his erection, so close to what he had missed most in his absence. As his hardness began to enter her, sliding into her, a knock sounded on the door. She smiled regretfully as she climbed off him and whispered a single word in his ear. ‘Later’.

He nodded at her as he swung his legs off the bed, pulling a sheet round his knackered form. He stood and crossed the distance between the bed and door quickly, reaching for the handle. As he turned he hoped this was not something menial, the thought of Isabella above him still impregnated into his mind. He pulled the door open to discover a clerk of Isabella’s father outside. Not just any clerk but one he counted a good friend, and had since boyhood.

‘Thought you’d be ready for our hunt this morning Ricardo’ Simon said with a mocking smile at his lips. The smile broadened as Ricardo returned it, and hugged the clerk.

‘Come now, get dressed. I'll meet you at the stable’. With that he was gone, leaving Ricardo to dress. With a last lustful despairing glance at his wife, Ricardo donned his clothing and closed their chamber door behind him.

In the silence of the chamber, Isabella sat amongst the bed sheets of their four poster bed, pondering on what she had been so close to, and what had quickly been denied to her. She removed her gown with one quick overhead sweep of her arms, and clamboured naked from the rumpled sheets. She travelled to the curtain separating the bedchamber from the odours of the garderobe. She hated this small, smelly room, but it was the only way to keep moths and insects from destroying the clothes she so loved. So far her mind had not allowed her to remember last nights activities, and her husband had not asked, so blissfully unawares she stroked the fabric of the green dress, so matched in its colour and intensity to Ricardo’s eyes. She shrugged the dress over her head, too young to need an underlying corset and with a supple body suitable for her time. She smoothed the material over her legs, and remembered when this dress had come into her possession. It was a warm sunny day and the market was being set up down in the square beneath the windows of the main keep. She had begged Ricardo to take her, and he had teased her relentlessly with maybes and later. Finally, when she had given up hope of seeing the wonderful animals and birds the market normally bought to Dushmando, Ricardo whisked her onto the back of his black charger, and took her to the market. There he bought her the dress she now wore, and told her of his love and admiration, and his plans to marry her in the spring. It was still to this point one of the most treasured memories she held in her mind, and it still made her smile. Coming back to the present, she pulled out a pair of boots for her feet, and slipped out of the chamber door to traverse the main keep to the castles kitchen. Her stomach rumbled, and she rubbed it as she realised how hungry she felt. The warm smells of the kitchens began to float past as she drew nearer, and she opened the door. The cook greeted her kindly, for her sister had been Isabella’s wet nurse when she was an infant. The old, wrinkled face still smiled down on her as she sat at the table and helped herself to fresh bread and honey. She smiled back at the cook, asking her of her health. The cook had just lost her grandson, absent in the woods for some time now. The people responsible for the vicious murders thus far were felt to be blameable for her grandsons disappearance. The old cook’s eyes grew wet at the memories of her grandson, as, although not her only grandchild, he was her eldest and only grandchild by her only son, long since dead, killed and found in the forest six years ago. Isabella reached for the cook’s hand, taking the floury paw in her slender hand. The cook took what comfort she needed from this embrace, smiled down at Isabella, nodded and went about her culinary duties.

In a flash Isabella remembered last night. The clamour of the woods, and the whispered name in her ear. Her heart raced as she remembered the fear coursing through her body and she fled from the kitchen, with the cook shouting her name in her wake. She knew she must be going crazy. She knew someone had said her name beside her ear last night, but only she and her husband had been present in the bed chamber. She did not stop running till she came upon the door of her chamber, to run in and fling herself under the covers like a frightened child. She knew what she heard, and she knew the horrible stories of the woods, and the poor victims of whatever lay in those trees. Something was tormenting her, and she knew that the only way she would be free of it was to go into those woods, and discover the root of the whispered name in her ear. She was half convinced to put it down to imaginations of a half conscious mind, when the voice whispered again in her ear.

‘Isabella’. She jumped in fright, looking around her, eyes wide in fear, heart pounding inside her chest. No-one was in their chamber, no-one around to speak these whispered words in her ear. She jumped out of bed, not even feeling safe here, and ran to the only place she knew safety for her existed. Into the arms of her father.

This betrayal made her swear her revenge, and with the grace of the pack she set out for her vengeance…

-3-

Ricardo sat astride his enormous war charger, bow and arrow in hand, sizing up the deer that had just crossed into his line of vision. It was a young buck, and its coat would be soft and supple, something Isabella would enjoy in the cold winter months approaching. A crack of a twig behind him made him jump, sending the fortunate deer into flight. He turned, all the time keeping the arrow aimed at the spot the noise had come from. A sudden flash of memory from yesterday flashed before his eyes, and he was sure he would now meet up with whomever had scared his wife, and despatch them.

Simon yelped as he emerged from the bush with a fat rabbit to find the end of an arrow poised at his face. Ricardo smiled apologetically at him as he lowered the offending weapon, and Simon offered him a puzzled, if disturbed look.

‘Have I done something to you friend, that deserves such treatment? Or did the bush scare you?’ Simon jested as he took the hunting knife from his saddle to gut and skin the rabbit.

‘No. I thought you were that same villain from the night before, returning for a fight’ Ricardo smiled. ‘No man scares my wife without the payment of consequences thereafter’. He strapped the bow and quiver back onto his saddle as his horse grazed. He sat himself down on the ground, and withdrew a hunting flask from his cloak. As he drank, he faltered. Something had just moved behind Simon.

‘Simon, move to me. There is a beast at your back’ Ricardo whispered to his friend across the wooded clearing. A feeling of fear pitted his stomach as the shadows behind his friend intensified. Simon moved his head to view whatever it was behind him. A low groan escaped his lips as the beast stepped into the clearing. Simon moved slowly towards his friend. The beast stood at least six feet tall, and was covered in a type of shaggy fur. The canines of its snout fell beneath its lower jaw, from which saliva dripped. The most astonishing feature, however, was the folded wings at its back, so like bat wings. It studied the pair