Alaric waited until sunup before he returned to the scene of the attack. He was risking his life yet again just to pacify the inner demons haunting his mind. Lavenia’s appearance was too disheveled for him to believe she was out picking herbs. Even the way she shut the door in his face seemed odd. He was in search of the truth, and he would not cease until he deciphered the mystery.
Finding the exact location of the onslaught would prove to be difficult; ’twas late in the evening when it occurred, and he was not thinking quite clearly. Nevertheless, he knew he would not stop until he unearthed proof he was not losing his mind. ’Twas a funny thing, his mentality, shoving notions around his head like they were in a tavern brawl. Yet the ideas he formulated coincided with what he witnessed the night before, and how Lavenia emerged. He also noted the distance between her cottage and the forest was not remote.
Hours later, Alaric came upon the precise site where the wolf attacked his brother and Daciana. The bodies of those men who perished last night had already been removed from nearby, and Alaric followed the trail of broken twigs, paw prints, and snapped limbs . . . until they led him to a bush with a shred of fabric. The same piece of material torn from the skirt Lavenia wore.
Alaric struggled for air. He had intended to prove his mind wrong, but this tiny bit of fabric was attestation that his wits were sound. He knew what had to be done, and he dreaded the confrontation. Lavenia must be interrogated. For a long time, there had been talk among the townsfolk that Lavenia was practicing the dark arts, yet nobody had the courage to confront her, for fear of being hexed. Alaric was not afraid, and if anybody could challenge Lavenia, ’twould be him.
He marched off toward her cottage. Ulric and Daciana should have been awake, and Alaric wanted naught more than to confront them about what happened, about what Lavenia said after he was banished from her home. They would have the answers he desired.
A couple of dogs ambled about the cottage, eager to see Alaric, but he ignored them as he strode up to the front door and let himself in. The two apprentices were cleaning the tables and glanced up at Alaric’s unexpected arrival. It took him a moment to gather his reasoning, because Ulric and Daciana were nowhere to be seen. Damn her, he thought, knowing Lavenia sent them on their merry way before Alaric could return.
“Where is she?” he growled.
“Right here,” Lavenia said, as she casually ambled into view from the back of the home.
Alaric tried to restrain his temper, but ’twas proving to be difficult. “Mind explaining this?” He held up the small piece of cloth he found earlier.
Lavenia’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then returned to a glower. “Simple. I explained to ye I was searching for herbs in the forest. When I heard the cries emanating from those poor fellows, I took off in a sprint. My dress caught on some shrubbery.”
“Yet ye did not return here for a mere hour,” Alaric contended. “Does that not seem a bit odd? Where were ye during that time?”
Lavenia did not counter, at first, and when she could not supply a response, she plainly said, “Get out.”
“Not until ye explain what in the bloody hell is going on,” Alaric retorted. He crossed his arms in a display of defiance.
Lavenia lost her composure, then. “Get out!” Her apprentices fled to the back area of the cottage in fear.
“Nay,” said Alaric. “Ye are hiding something from me, and I intend to keep my feet planted here until I find out.”
Face red and blood boiling, Lavenia could no longer contain her emotions. “They are cursed. Thy brother and Daciana will forever walk this world as immortal beings, and they are slowly becoming the same creature ye hunted last night.”
Aye, the words departed from her lips, yet Alaric could not seem to grasp them. In the darkest recesses of his mind, he thought of this development, but he did not want to believe it true. Although, there they stood, face to face, Lavenia confirming everything he already knew. Alaric felt as if she punched his stomach.
“This cannot be true, for man cannot transform into beast,” he said, finally.
Lavenia pursed her lips.
“Even if ’twere true, my brother is no monster. Neither is Daciana.” He paced the room, ran clammy fingers through his hair, and bit back a cry of protest. “Do they know of this? Have ye told them?”
“Of course,” Lavenia replied. “And they know not to utter a word of their condition. Should they wag their tongues, they will be killed. Ye know witchcraft is forbidden, and people will believe they took part in black magic, even though they did not.”
“This is absurd! I-I . . .” Alaric could not form appropriate words for what he contemplated. He was torn between loathing the wolf, and pitying his brother and Daciana. ’Twas not their fault; they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. At present, they would be hunted for what they were. “Ye did this to them! Do not deny it.” He scowled at Lavenia, which did not worry her.
She lifted her chin. “I do not deny it, but I will not confirm it, either.”
“Damn you!” he said, as he stalked out the front door the same way he entered. All of the reflections swirling around in his head came at once, like a torrential downpour of rain. The thunderstorm of his mind blended malice and treachery into a perfect combination. She did this to spite him for their past. She took out her anger on his brother and another innocent woman. To serve what purpose? Jealousy? Rage? Hate?
’Twas time to oust the witch, once and for all.
Chapter Eleven