Aries - an Adventurous Tale of Mythology and Folklore



  ARIES

  An Adventurous Tale of

  Mythology and Folklore

  Zodiac Maidens of Melk

  Short Stories

  1

  Lisa Shea

  Copyright © 2016 by Lisa Shea / Minerva Webworks LLC

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Lisa Shea

  Book design by Lisa Shea

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ~ v1 ~

  Visit my website at LisaShea.com

  Half of all of the author’s proceeds from this series benefit battered women’s shelters.

  Chapter One

  Ava curled her fingers into tight fists. She called out in fury, “Get away from her, you bully!” She launched head-first into Dominik, even though the boy was as wide as an ox.

  He staggered back, his cruel grip on little Pia’s arm flying loose.

  Pia went racing toward the stone one-room schoolhouse, her blonde braids flying behind her in a tornado of motion. “Frauline Brunner! Frauline Brunner!”

  Ava wasn’t going to wait for help to arrive. The skittish schoolmistress had proven quite incapable of controlling the village’s rougher boys, especially Dominik who was sixteen and bigger than many of the adults in the valley. Ava was a full two years younger than him, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her.

  She launched again.

  He went down this time, overwhelmed by her rage, and she straddled his chest, pummeling at any body part which came within reach. Her long, red hair whirled circles above her head. Around her she could hear the shouts and cries of her fellow class-mates, but of course none came to her aid. Nobody else was impetuous enough to take on Dominik. Not with his reputation for clinging to grudges with the power of a Munich Wrestler.

  She didn’t care.

  Frau Brunner’s voice carried shrill and high over the meadow. “Aveline! You stop that this instant!”

  Ava’s fist slammed down, hitting Dominik’s shoulder with a satisfying thunk.

  Weightlessness.

  She was lifted bodily in the air by two of the other boys, apparently under the direction of a shaking finger. Her breath came in long draws as she re-found her feet and looked down at herself.

  Her mother was going to be furious.

  Her dark blue dress, often smudged with dirt, now sported several large tears and a giant brown splotch.

  Frau Brunner pointed to the stone building. “Inside! Now! You are going to stand in the corner until you see some sense!”

  Ava’s voice burst out of her. “But Dominik started it! He was picking on Pia!”

  Pia nodded her little head in confirmation, bless the girl.

  Frau Brunner’s mouth turned down. “You are not to question me. I have a different punishment for Dominik. He will go to my house and fix that leaky roof.”

  Red blossomed in Ava’s vision. She had to stand stationary, going mad with boredom, while Dominik got to build things? Was that fair?

  She opened her mouth –

  Frau Brunner pointed a finger. “One more word and you’ll be standing in that corner all day tomorrow, as well.”

  Ava sullenly closed her mouth.

  Dominik smirked at her before walking leisurely down the hill toward the cluster of houses which was the village proper.

  Ava’s shoulders slumped as she followed Frau Brunner back into the room. The wood timber floor was neatly swept and ten long benches were spaced out in two columns.

  Frau Brunner didn’t need to point, but she did anyway.

  Ava sighed as she took up her habitual spot in the corner, staring into the center crack. She knew every inch of that crack. Every sound the floor made as it groaned beneath her shifting feet. Every twist in the grain of wood –

  Frau Brunner stated to the class, “All right, then. For the afternoon we’ll be studying the genealogy of our royal family.”

  Ava nearly collapsed in despair. Of all the topics she hated the most, this one was near the top. Who cared who the second-cousin-once-removed of the third prince was? There was a real world out there. One with brisk ponds to swim in and sun-dappled hills to climb. With soaring hawks to chase and crimson apples to eat.

  She clenched her fists in frustration –

  To her surprise, she realized that her muscles flexed when she did so.

  She clenched one fist, then the other.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

  Her eyes lit up with delight. What else could she do?

  She put her two palms together in front of her chest, carefully shielding them from Frau Brunner’s view. With her left she pushed while she resisted the motion with her right. Then reverse.

  Immense satisfaction poured through her. She was disobeying Frau Brunner and the silly schoolteacher didn’t even know it!

  The day streamed by as Ava invented an entire regimen of fun activities. It was certainly more interesting than that boring monologue Frau Brunner was giving.

  At last the sun touched the tops of the craggy mountains and Frau Brunner waved her hands. “That’s all for today, class.”

  The room burst into a chaos of running feet and laughter. Ava turned –

  Frau Brunner stood glowering at her. “And you, young lady. I want you to stop fighting with Dominik!”

  “You tell him to stop being a bully, then,” retorted Ava. She strode past the teacher and out into the streaming sunshine.

  She looked around the open meadow, breathing in the air of freedom. Her eyes drifted over to the stream, to where her home lay next to her father’s blacksmith shop. She could almost hear the hammer-rings of the forge where her father and three older brothers worked. Her mother was undoubtedly in the house with the baby, Marie, which left Ava free for the entire afternoon.

  Her eyes swiveled, as they often did, to the towering mountains. To the tumbling-down keep which she knew sat deep within its rocky face.

  Today was the day.

  Chapter Two

  For the fortieth time Ava resisted the urge to glance behind her as she made her way up the thin, twisting path. If her father and brothers knew where she was she’d be punished for a year. Maybe more. She’d heard countless tales about how dangerous the trail to the keep was. About the swaying rope bridge over a chasm of doom. About the insane witch who lurked in the shadows of the abandoned stone tower.

  Every new story only made her crave the adventure even more strongly.

  There was a beautiful billowing of cerulean edelweiss to the right and she almost stopped to pick some for her mother. She made herself resist. This shade didn’t grow anywhere near the village and undoubtedly she would be asked where she’d found it.

  Punishment.

  For a year.

  She kept at the narrowing goat trail, her leather boots finding good purchase in the rocky soil. Behind her the valley shrunk smaller and smaller, the houses melding together into little clumps of timber and rock. She still couldn’t quite see the keep from where she was. Perhaps once she made it around this outcropping …

  She pulled up, her mouth falling open.

  It was real.

  Somehow, despite all the stories, despite all the dre
ams and plans, she hadn’t quite thought it was up here. Maybe the tales had just been a way for her parents to keep the children spellbound during the long, hard winters. But there it was, right before her, and it took her breath away.

  The thin trail twisted its way around large boulders and scraggly trees until it reached the start of a rope bridge. Trees on either side anchored the ropes, and the cross-struts looked as if they were fashioned out of decaying wood. A waist-high lattice of rope kept the person crossing from falling sideways into a deep crevice.

  The trail forked at the bridge, going either across the bridge or to the right. She could see now that the right path led to the mountain itself, to where the crevice dug into the rock face. Perhaps agile mountain goats could move across that trail, skirting the edge of the crevice, but it seemed clear that no human could.

  The paths rejoined at the far side of the bridge and then led, nearly straight, to the keep proper.

  She soaked in the sight.

  An outer wall circled the keep, a full ten feet tall, made of stone. At the wall’s center was a large pair of wooden doors which sat open. The hinges had all but failed. Within the walls sat a stone keep a full three stories high. Windows with diamond-shaped muntined glass shone in the sun.

  Ava’s heart beat strong against her ribs and she picked up her pace.

  She had to go in and explore!

  She went around the boulders, past the scraggly trees, and at last she reached the start of the bridge. It creaked mournfully in the wind as it swayed. She held onto the right-hand rope and peered down.

  Her stomach lifted to her mouth.

  She had never seen a depth so dark or shard-filled. A fall in there would surely shred a person to pieces.

  Her eyes rose again to the keep, and her resolve hardened.

  She could do it.

  She stretched her left hand out to take a hold of the other rope.

  She drew in a deep breath.

  She carefully placed her foot on the first wooden strut.

  The bridge creaked … groaned …

  The strut held.

  She breathed again.

  See, this wasn’t that bad!

  She took the second step. She was now off of solid ground and wholly on the bridge.

  It swayed with her motion, but it held beneath her.

  Another step. Another pause. The far end drew near with each new step and her trust in the bridge grew. By the time she drew closer to the other side she was practically walking at a normal pace. Still, when she finally reached it, that grassy ground felt quite good and solid beneath her feet!

  She lifted her eyes to the keep.

  She could see that this had once been a road of sorts, straight and true, but time had eaten away at it. Saplings were pushing their way through in various places and surely those were baby rabbits poking their tiny faces out of the bristling brush?

  Normally Ava would have spent hours cajoling the tiny animals to trust her but today she was on a mission. And the sun was continuing its golden path across the deep blue of the sky.

  She headed forward.

  The decay of the keep and its walls became even more apparent as she approached. There were weeds and vines sprouting out of the wall in a variety of locations. She was surprised the gate’s two main doors stayed upright, given the worn state of the hinges. When she reached them she was careful to stay clear of the heavy wood as she moved through the open center.

  She looked around.

  There, to the right, would have been the stables, but the wood and thatch had long since caved in. Perhaps that had been a bakery further on, and she was sure that pile of rubble had been a blacksmith’s forge.

  It clearly had been long decades since that anvil rang out with the sound of a hammer.

  A scurrying hedgehog ran off into some shadowy nook.

  Silence.

  She carefully stepped into the open courtyard, looking around. Most of it was dirt but at one time there had been a plaza of sorts at its center, marked off with squared-off rocks. Within the square was a circle, perhaps six feet in diameter, now just rocky dirt. She wondered what had once been there. A pedestal? A statue of whatever Lord had owned this place?

  Her feet moved forward.

  There were five wide steps up to the main door. It was sturdily shut. A large, black, iron knocker sat at its center.

  Ava’s heart began hammering against her ribs.

  What if someone was home?

  She shook away the thought. She was no child, to think such things could be true! Clearly her father had spun wild tales about the keep to ensure her and her brothers remained far from its dangers. Nobody had lived here in centuries. The layers of grime on the steps and the pitiful state of the front gates made that clear.

  If she was lucky, the front door would simply be unlocked and she could explore the derelict building at will. If the door was locked, well, maybe there’d be a window she could get to and enter that way.

  After spending so much time and effort to get here, she certainly wasn’t going to go away without taking a look!

  Still …

  She eyed the door knocker.

  There was no harm in knocking. Just to be polite.

  She reached up and took the iron in her hand. It was smooth to the touch, as if in its lifetime it had seen heavy use.

  She chuckled.

  Certainly not in recent years.

  She gave it a sharp rap.

  Then, for form’s sake, she gave it two more.

  She waited.

  The hedgehog peered out from its cave, sensed no threat, and waddled its way over to a small yellow plant. It must have found it tasty, because it plunked down there and started snuffling in contentment.

  Ava smiled. There. She’d done her due diligence. Now she just had to press the door open –

  With a soul-searing creak the door slowly swung open before her.

  Chapter Three

  Ava was rooted in place. The saner part of her brain, speaking in a voice which sounded suspiciously like her mother’s, ordered her to run. To flee. To get across that rickety bridge to safety.

  She clenched her fists, standing fast.

  She couldn’t run! Not after everything she went through to get here!

  There was a shape in the darkness –

  Ava blinked, and she realized that an old, wrinkled crone stood before her. The woman had to be a hundred at least. Her pale face was lined with more seams than the family’s plot of turnips. Her gray-white hair was in one long braid down to her waist. She wore a simple gray dress belted around her middle.

  The woman’s voice croaked out of her. “Well, hello there.”

  Ava’s throat had gone dry. It took her several tries to get out, “Hello.”

  The woman’s gray eyes crinkled in amusement. “And who might you be?”

  “My name is Aveline, although most people call me Ava.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, young Ava. My name is Magdalena. Would you like to come in?”

  Again dual emotions warred within Ava’s breast. Her mother’s voice was becoming more strident, saying no, no, no –

  “Yes,” agreed Ava. “Thank you.”

  Magdalena stepped to the side, sweeping a hand.

  Ava’s eyes were wide as she looked around. No story of her father’s could ever properly bring this place to life.

  The foyer they stood in had a spiral stone staircase going up to the right. Cobwebs hung off of every angle and beam. A small, gray mouse meandered complacently along the timber floor to its hole. Ahead of her, the building opened up into a great room. A large fireplace, cold, was on the right wall. A long table stretched down the room’s length. Its surface was bare and coated with a thick layer of dust. Benches were tucked beneath it.

  Magdalena motioned with a claw-like hand. “Come, come, everything’s in the back.”

  Tension mounted along Ava’s spine as she followed the woman. Was she going to be stuffed into an ove
n and cooked? Chopped up and baked into a pie? The many stories she’d been told over the years all bubbled up in her mind, coalescing, boiling –

  They stepped through the arch at the back of the room.

  Ava let out a relieved breath.

  It was actually pretty cozy, at least compared with the falling-apart state of the rest of the structure. Clearly this had been the food preparation room for the keep. A sturdy butcher-block table stood at its center with a pair of stools alongside it. A black kettle hung over the fire, along with a large matching pot with a lid. Something wonderfully fragrant was bubbling within.

  Magdalena moved over to a wooden shelf, drawing down two simple but clean pottery bowls. “Would you like some soup? You must be hungry after your long walk.”

  Ava blinked. “How did you know I had a long walk?”

  Magdalena chuckled. “There is nobody at all living nearby, child. Clearly you must have come up from one of the villages down in the valley.”

  Ava blushed. Here she had already decided that the woman was some sort of a witch or fortune-teller. Clearly she was just a simple woman trying to live out her remaining years. Maybe she’d been a servant at the keep and had been abandoned when the rest of the family went to … to wherever it is that they’d gone.

  Magdalena put one bowl on the table and took the other to the pot. She lifted the lid and scooped the bowl within. The fragrance was mouth-watering. Chicken … rosemary … sage …

  Ava’s stomach rumbled. Surely the woman wasn’t about to poison her. She said, “Yes, please. I’d like some soup.”

  Magdalena put the bowl in front of Ava and found a spoon in a drawer. In a moment she was sitting alongside Ava with her own bowl and spoon.

  Ava took a sip.

  Delicious.

  She asked, “Were you the family cook? Back before the place was abandoned?”

  Magdalena’s eyes twinkled. “A cook? Oh, no, no. Gracious me.”

  Ava’s brow creased. “Well, then, what are you?”

  Magdalena took another sip of her soup. “I am many things, my child. But I suppose now you could call me a healer.”

  Ava’s eyes lit up. “Really? And what can you –”

  Crash.

  A large rock sailed through the window in a starburst of glass and wood.

  Chapter Four

  Ava leapt to her feet in panic, wildly looking around.

  The rock lay there on the wood floor, placid and unmoving.