Giselle just smiled enigmatically. “I have my ways.”
Ruth shook her head. “And I shall never cease to be amazed by them. His name is William, and he is—”
“The earl?” Giselle asked, eyes widening.
Ruth nodded.
“Well, that is impressive. Is he handsome?”
Ruth felt herself blushing. “I believe so. He’s tall with brown hair and green eyes. He has wide shoulders, but he carries himself with a grace I’ve never seen in a man”
Giselle cocked her head. “I believe I have seen such a man in these woods before.” She shook her head. “But I cannot be certain of it.” There was a moment of silence, and then Giselle asked, “Where did you meet?”
“At the shop. His horse had thrown a shoe just down the street.”
Giselle’s face took on a look of horror. “At the shop! Well, at least he’s seen you at work and there shall be no surprises there.”
“Grandmother,” Ruth admonished. “I would not have a man who could not at least understand me.”
“And it looks like you might finally have found one, heaven be praised.”
Ruth began to grow irritated. “Grandmother, I wish you would have more faith in me.”
“I do, dear; its the men I worry about.”
Ruth shook her head. “Besides, we barely know each other, and we come from very different backgrounds”
“It wouldn’t be the first time a noble married a commoner, if that is what you are worried about”
“Its not just that,” Ruth said, shifting in her chair. “It’s a great many things. Perhaps if we get to know each other better I will have the leisure to speculate on such improbabilities.”
Giselle leaned forward and touched the cross necklace around Ruth’s neck. “It looks like it’s not a matter of if, but rather when you get to know each other better.” She smiled fondly at Ruth, “You asked me how I knew you had met a nobleman. Only a nobleman could afford to give you such a trinket, and only one with a great interest in you would care to.”
Ruth dropped her eyes to the necklace. “You are right,” she whispered, admitting it as much to herself as to her grandmother. “I guess I’m just frightened”
“Of what, dear?”
“Losing myself. When I look into his eyes I feel as though I am drowning, and I become terrified. What if he does have feelings for me? What if he even wants to marry me? All I’ve ever known is fire and steel, and I don’t know how I’d give that up. I don’t know who I’d be without them,”
Giselle clasped her tightly about the neck. “Darling child, what you do does not dictate who you are. Clothed in furs and jewels you would be the same person as you are when covered with ash and soot.”
“Do you really think that’s true?”
“I know it is. I loved your grandfather, and we were very different people. In loving him, though, and marrying him, I didn’t lose myself. Rather, I gained something I had long been in want of. Love makes you more than what you are, not less. Besides, if you’re worried that you’ll miss ‘fire and steel,’ you needn’t. The fire and steel are in you—they always have been. You need look no further than right here,” she said, tapping Ruth’s chest.
Giselle stood suddenly, and Ruth thought she caught the glisten of tears in her eyes. “Now let’s check those wounds.”
Ruth winced as Giselle gripped her ankle, but she had to admit that the pain was less than before, and she could move it freely. “You’re a miracle worker, Grandmother.”
Giselle smiled. “I like to think so.”
Next she checked Ruth’s arm. “Bleeding’s stopped,” she commented. “A couple of days and you won’t even see the scratch.”
“The same can’t be said of Simon,” Ruth noted grimly.
A shadow passed over Giselle’s face. “No, though I can’t say there are many who will miss him.”
“Myself included,” Ruth admitted hesitantly. It was amazing how quickly her grandmother could distract her from emotional pain as well as physical. As soon as she returned to the village she would have to send men out to recover the body. She shivered. “He was the man I fought with at the shop a few weeks ago.”
“Strange that you were the one to find him dead”
“Strange indeed,” Ruth whispered, a shiver slithering up her spine.
By nightfall the village was in turmoil« The body of Simon the tanner had been retrieved, and everyone had heard the tale of the wolf attacking Ruth, A quick search of the woods near where the body had been found had yielded no wolf, and the searchers had to retreat as darkness crept over the land.
Ruth sat on her bed, feet curled beneath her, and listened to the excited murmur of voices in the street. The door opened and Peter entered, shutting it behind him. He came to stand in front of Ruth. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
He balled up his right hand into a fist and struck his left palm with it. “I will find the wolf that attacked you and I will kill it,” he vowed.
“Thank you,” she finally said, unsure how else to answer him.
“They are saying that it is a monster, twice the size of a normal wolf.”
Ruth shook her head. “Those weren’t my words. He was large, but I wouldn’t say he was monstrous.”
Peter shook his head, eyes glinting. “Anything that would attack you can be nothing short of monstrous.”
She stared at him in the light of the flickering candles, and his face looked strange to her. There was something dark and wild about it. What has he suffered these many years? she wondered. More and more he seemed a stranger to her. His joy at being home had been short-lived, and of late she had heard him cry out in the night, only to find him fast asleep. Even his eyes had grown darker, and with each passing day the shadows around them grew.
“Dear Peter, what is it that haunts you so?” she asked, reaching out impulsively to cup his cheek in her hand.
He closed his eyes and leaned slightly into her hand. She held her breath, for a moment believing he might finally reveal his pain to her. He opened his eyes, though, and pulled her hand down. He brushed it lightly with the back of his lips before releasing it.
“Fair cousin, the pain my eyes have seen is not for your ears to hear,”
“If not mine, then whose?” she protested.
He smiled darkly, “I do not know, but one day I shall find them and they shall hear their full,”
He turned and left the cottage. Alone in the light of the flickering candles she shivered, wondering how long her cousin was meant to dwell in darkness and pitying him for it.
She lay down at last, convinced she would not sleep. As soon as her eyes closed, though, her body slumped and darkness claimed her.
As the sun rose in the sky, William woke. He blinked sleepily for several minutes as he tried to gather his senses. He stretched slowly and stared at his hands, splaying the fingers as wide as he could. Next he stretched his legs, wiggling his toes. At last, with a mighty shake, he sat up and gazed around him.
He was in the woods, but nothing looked familiar. Where am I? he wondered, feeling slightly dazed. I need to find my clothes.
He tried to think back to the events of the night before, but there was nothing, only a gaping hole where his memories should have been. He felt panic rising in him as he realized that the last two and a half days were completely gone.
Rolling over onto his knees, he saw something that made his blood run cold. With a trembling hand he reached out and picked up the torn remnant of a woman’s sleeve.
“Dear heaven, what have I done?” he wailed. He pressed the sleeve to his face and wept. He collapsed back onto the ground, sobbing until there was nothing left in him.
At last the storm passed, and he lay limp and exhausted. By sheer will he finally managed to stand. I need to find my clothes and go home.
After a couple of minutes he got his bearings and trudged off through the woods. His bare feet padded on the ground, the soles calloused f
rom many mornings such as this one. After nearly half an hour he reached his destination. He always left his clothes in the same place so that he could easily find them.
Usually he awoke somewhere near them, though that hadn’t happened this time.
Why can’t I remember anything? What did I do? Questions crowded his mind, and he couldn’t cease their clamoring. The moaning of the trees echoed his state.
He spotted his small pile of clothes at the same time he heard whistling. He ducked behind a thick tree just in time to avoid being seen by an older woman. Ruth’s grandmother, he realized as he watched her. It couldn’t be anyone else.
The old woman was walking along slowly, a basket on one arm and her eyes fixed on the ground. She suddenly bent over and pulled a plant from the base of a tree. Laying it gently in her basket she straightened and moved on. She was moving ever closer to his clothes, and if she looked up she would discover them.
He bent, picked up a stone, and threw it into the woods in the direction away from his clothes. It landed with a loud thud that startled all the birds into silence.
The old woman didn’t turn around; she didn’t even flinch. After a moment, though, she said, “If you want your clothes, you’re just going to have to come get them.”
He could feel the blood racing in him, and he was afraid. How did this woman know that he was here, watching her? He thought about his options. Clearly she couldn’t be fooled or diverted. He could leave and come back later. But what if she takes my clothes with her? Maybe I can make it back to the castle without being seen. He rolled his eyes. That’s smart—even if I can make it all the way to the castlet there will be eyebrows raised when I walk into the great hall naked.
He sighed; there was no help for it. “If milady would avert her eyes it would be greatly appreciated.”
She raised her head, and he could swear he saw a smile dancing on her lips, “Why? If you feel as free as one of Gods forest creatures, then why should you be ashamed to be seen?”
“It was not my intention to be without my clothes.”
“Don’t fib, young man. There is no water nearby that you might have been swimming in, and your clothes are laid out too neatly for them to have gotten that way by accident,”
“Still, I do not wish to be seen,”
“You should have thought of that before you decided to take your little romp in the woods,”
He shook his head, “You’re just as difficult as your granddaughter,”
The old woman’s smile faded suddenly, “You know my granddaughter?”
“If her name is Ruth, then I know her,”
“It is,” she said, her voice now cautious. “You wouldn’t happen to be the young man she saw naked on the path a month past, would you?”
“I’m afraid so, though I hope she doesn’t realize that.”
The old woman took on a threatening stance. “You will leave her alone, young man.”
William couldn’t believe this was happening. He, the earl of Lauton, was naked in the forest being lectured by a peasant woman to leave a lady blacksmith alone. How much stranger does it get than this? he wondered. He looked down at the torn sleeve in his hand and wished he hadn’t. A lot stranger, if only Ruth knew.
“I’m afraid I can’t leave her alone, I’m growing quite fond of her.” He deepened his tone, something he did rarely. “Now, good woman, you will turn around so that I may get my clothes.”
The old woman cocked her head. “Earl of Lauton?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes.”
She turned in an instant. “Beg your pardon, milord.”
“All is forgiven so long as you keep your back turned,” he said, striding out from behind the tree. He reached his clothes and dressed quickly while she stood silent with her back to him. When he was finished, he debated slipping away quietly but realized there was no longer much use in it.
“All right,” he said.
She turned slowly, her face ashen.
“I would prefer it if you did not tell Ruth of this,” he said, still in his deepest voice.
She nodded slightly. “It is our secret. Tell me, why?”
“Why do you find an earl in the woods in a natural state?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you”
“I’m not so certain of that. There are things that happen out here that no man can explain.”
“Nor woman?”
“Nor woman,” she affirmed, shaking her head.
“Let’s just say I’m following a family tradition and leave it at that.”
She smiled suddenly, and he cocked his head. He had an uneasy feeling that she knew something he would not wish her to know.
“Ruth is right about you” she said softly. “You are different from what one would expect. You did not have to answer my question.”
“Ruth is different as well. I’ve never met anyone like her.”
“She’s strong, my Ruth. Whatever you have to share with her, she can handle it.”
A sense of foreboding filled him. “What makes you say that?”
“I’ve lived in these woods a long time, seen many things. When Ruth described to me the man who gave her the necklace, I told her I thought I had seen you in the woods before.” She paused for a long minute and gave him a sly look. “I wasn’t wrong.”
He felt his blood run cold. “What do you mean by that?”
“I think the fewer words spoken on the subject, the better” she answered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, milord, I have work to attend to.”
She curtsied and turned to go, eyes back on the ground.
William stared at her retreating back as he pondered her words. How much does she know? he wondered. And if I don’t tell Ruth, will she?
He closed his eyes and prayed for calm. The moon was no longer full, but he could still feel its pull on him, and in many ways he was just as dangerous now as he had been the night before. He turned, at last, and began the long journey out of the forest.
Ruth sat on her bed, impatient and fretful. Her father had insisted that she stay off her bruised ankle for another day. It had been three days already, and with nothing to do but relive the attack over and over, she felt that she would go mad. The sun had begun its slow descent in the sky, and she urged it on.
There was a soft knock on the door, and she hobbled over to answer it. A cloaked and hooded figure dashed past her and entered the room. “Close the door quickly, child,” a familiar voice whispered.
Ruth hurried to do as she was told. “Grandmother?” she asked wonderingly as Giselle pushed her hood back. Fear rushed through her. Giselle had only braved coming to the village once before, right after the first wolf attack, and it had been she who had done much of the work to heal Ruth’s legs.
“Shh, yes,” Giselle said, her features tense but her eyes shining with excitement.
“What are you doing here?” Ruth asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I came to bring you something.”
“What?”
Giselle pulled something from a basket she was carrying. She unfolded it, and in her hands she held a cloak of scarlet.
Ruth stiffened, feeling suddenly faint as she remembered another red cloak she had worn years ago, the day she was attacked by the wolf. She remembered too seeing the dark bloodstains on the tattered garment before her father had disposed of it.
Giselle must have seen Ruth’s hands beginning to shake, for she hastened to say. “This one will offer you unique protection from all manner of attackers.”
“How?” Ruth whispered.
With a smile Giselle showed her the inside of the garment. There, stitched in the lining, were strips of her brother’s armor. Prominently displayed was the crescent moon, still covered with blood.
“It is heavy, but it might one day save your life. As your brother protected you in life so he will in death.”
“Thank you,” Ruth said, tears springing to her e
yes. She stood and tried on the cloak. It was indeed heavy, and the metal banged against her hip, but she felt safe. She closed her eyes and imagined her brother once again beside her, comforting and protecting her. Slowly her image of him faded, though, and was replaced by another. A mischievous smile taunted her, and she found herself smiling as she opened her eyes.
“And how is Lord William?” Giselle asked shrewdly.
“I haven’t seen him since you and I last spoke,” Ruth admitted. It’s amazing how she can always tell what I’m thinking.
“It’s a gift,” Giselle said, smiling.
Ruth shook her head. “Grandmother, sometimes I think you truly are a mind reader.”
“If I were I wouldn’t admit it.”
Ruth spun slowly, favoring her injured foot, getting used to the weight of the cloak and the way it moved. It had an attached hood, and she pulled it up slowly until it covered most of her head.
“It looks beautiful on you,” Giselle said.
“Thank you, Grandmother.”
“I must go quickly, but you must promise me to always wear it when walking through the woods.”
“I will, Grandmother,” Ruth assured her, fear once again squeezing at her heart. “Is everything well?”
The older woman’s face turned thoughtful. “Let us hope that it is, Ruth. Only time will tell for sure. Now I must go.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” Giselle answered. She put her hood back up over her head, crossed to the door, and left as quickly as she had come.
After a moment Ruth took off the cloak and sat back down on her bed, clutching the garment in her hands.
Chapter Six
The day dawned dark and ominous. The air hung thick and damp, and no matter how close Ruth stood to the fire she could not drive the chill from her bones. Thoughts of the red cloak haunted her as she made her way to the shop.
Why would Grandmother make me another red cloak, knowing that the first helped attract the wolf? She picked up her hammer and began to pound, imagining that it was the wolf and not metal that she was striking. She had been at work an hour when a shadow darkened the door.