*
Tamlyn woke up tied to a tree. Near her there were dozens of unknown faces, all very similar to Marliese’s. This must be her clan, she thought to herself, masking her fear.
“Ah, our meal awakes!” shouted a man and all of them chuckled.
“Be not afraid, young maiden, you are a gift!” stated another man, bearded, older and heavy. Again the wicked laugh spread throughout the camp. Men and women were loosely congregated around a camp fire.
A woman, older than Marliese, an elderly probably, her hair as long as Tamlyn’s and black as a raven, her skin closely resembling leather, and with suspicious eyes, came close to Tamlyn’s face.
“She’s a liar. Her name is not Jolyn.”
“I figured that much,” said Marliese from afar. She could not see her. “But I didn’t care. A meal we have!” Again the laughter bursts across the large group.
The old woman hissed and stepped away, with fear in her eyes. Tamlyn witnessed her going to a tall bearded man and addressing him in clouded whispers.
After she left the man’s side, the same man went to the middle of the campsite and began to speak.
“Today,” he said, holding a cup of what appeared to be wine, “is a happy night for our forsaken one brought a gift. A gift for our Seven Swords Clan!”
Everyone cheered. He was smiling and would occasionally take small sips from the cup.
“I, Pack Leader, am delighted for such gift. I wish I could enjoy it all by myself however I am not a selfish wolf! And to share our food is our clan’s motto. To share or to die!”
Another spurt of roaring energy travelled across the camp. There were so many, so many of them! Tamlyn felt all was lost. She had made a terrible mistake and for it, for her stupidity, she was about to pay dearly - with her life. With her very flesh. Nanny never spoke of cannibals though. She never prepared her for this. With overwhelming strength, Tamlyn made the tears back away from her face. To die, yes, as a brave woman and never, Ever!, showing fear!
“Marliese,” the pack leader continued, “when I told you to leave our clan or be killed and fed to our pups, what was your answer?”
Tamlyn saw Marliese shiver, ever so slightly, and for an instant a look of panic settled in her face. But it was fleeting and it vanished quickly. Apparently the others had not observed it. She was about to speak, in her usual boastful manner, when the leader of the clan smiled the type of smile one rewards a witty child, made a gesture with his hand, and continued talking.
“Oh, don’t remind us. We all know. You said ‘It wasn’t me’. And because I, we, had doubts, we all had doubts, the clan let you go. For a year you were gone, Marliese, and in that year we learned that indeed it had been you, you who murdered Lesty Lupine, a young pup almost, no more than fifteen. My wife, as you all know, had died and I was looking for another female. Lesty was... well, I hadn’t made up my mind yet. But I considered her. Her looks pleased me and she had years to develop her ferocity. But still, my mind was not ready for a decision yet. And one day we found her with her throat slit and her eyes gouged.”
Slowly, a collective growl travelled throughout the camp. The hair on the back of Tamlyn’s neck stood up, along with the hair in her arms. Still, she made herself look. No fear, show no fear. What were these beings?! Suddenly it was clear to her Nanny was hiding a great deal of the world’s cruel reality.
“Now we know it was you. As if,” he began shouting in the most horrifying manner, “you, You!, stood a chance! Not in a million moon’s I would pick you! You ugly, moronic, idiotic female! Now you bring us a gift! This offering, however delightful and pleasant, is it supposed to heal all wounds?!”
Marliese was trembling, trying to hold her head up high, trying desperately to conceal her terror.
“Get her! Thorn her limb by limb and toss her body in the fire! Not even the pups will have her!”
A gigantic mass of growling men and women covered Marliese and in instants she was gone, her limbs flung into the fire.
And then the leader faced her.
Tamlyn quivered from head to toe. He came closer and closer, slowly.
“Here. Drink.”
She turned her face away. He made her drink. It was not wine. It was some disgusting, vile liquid. She threw it from her mouth.
“Good,” he smiled. “Good.”
A gesture from him signaled a man to let her loose.
“Now go, maiden. No one will touch you, neither wolf nor vampire. You stink to us. You’ll be lucky if a man of your one kind will ever want to caress your nimble skin. And tell your father, the King, I, RoLan, spared your life.”
After a silence she said:
“The King is my uncle.”
No use of concealing. He seemed to be aware of whom she was.
“Right...” was his answer. Tamlyn started walking and then running until she could no longer see or hear their growling sounds, their piercing laughter.
Almost as if by miracle, at daybreak she reached home. One of the horsemen, of the dozens sent in search of her, sees her, grabs her from the ground and without a word carries her back to the king. She faces him with ripped and frayed garments, scratched arms and face, and coagulated blood in her hair which had descended to the side of her face.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” the King asks. Only him, her and the Nanny were present. The Nanny had herself been beaten for not properly taking care of the child and was covered in bruises.
Tamlyn relayed the message. The King’s eyes widened. Speedily he got up from his chair and said:
“Teach this child a lesson. Never again go about on her own. Teach her!” he screamed with bloody eyes.
And indeed, as Tamlyn had predicted herself, for days she laid in bed, unable to get up. The Nanny was so rightfully mad she refused to speak to her for weeks. One day she called her to her side and revealed:
“When your uncle, the King to be, was fourteen, his sister, your demented mother, age of twenty and five, sneaked into his bed and forced herself on him. The result was you, nine and a half months later. You didn’t want to come out because you knew life was going to be hard. You were correct, for you, Tamlyn, are going to be the Queen of all Kingdom when the time comes, when the King is no more. But until that moment arrives you are to be quiet of your origins. Quiet and attentive. Now eat the bloody soup. After I’ll tell you tales of wolfs and vampires. I’ll tell you of the Seven Swords Clan and other’s. I’ll tell you of the blue eye demons, who suck our blood in the middle of the night.”
And in time it came to be that Tamlyn was Queen, but that is altogether another story.
[July//2015]
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