The Maid of Chateau Winslow

by Pippa J Frost

  Arms scooped me up, and the scent of leather and the musk of the forest wafted around me. I inhaled deeply and rested my head against Nisse’s shoulder. “You will be all right, little one.” The comfort of his words cloaked me in warmth.

  “You came back.”

  “Always. Never fear,” he said as he wove through the carnage of fallen creatures and dwarves.

  A sentry lunged at us with his sword drawn, but the raven-haired dwarf stepped between Nisse and the creature. “Get her out of here. We will manage,” he said, and hearing the voice, I started and pulled away from the safety of Nisse’s neck.

  Over his shoulder, I squinted at the dwarf. “Lord Winslow?” But preoccupied with his opponent, the dwarf had moved off.

  I spotted the other guardian dwarf with ginger hair as he withdrew his sword from a sentry sprawled on the ground. Our eyes met, and he gave me an awkward grin—one which appeared forced, as if foreign to him. “Mrs. Potts?” I said.

  He bowed at the waist. “Miss Wolf.”

  The last months unraveled, and everything became clear.

  When the dank tunnels gave way to the crisp mountain air and the sun kissed my face, Nisse set me on my feet. I swayed, and he reached out to steady me. He removed his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. Snowflakes drifted from the sky and I frowned. Snow in the summer?

  “Nisse, what month is it?”

  He looked up from inspecting my wrist and regarded me as though I were a delicate globe of dandelion seeds that would drift off with one released breath. “Almost Christmas.”

  “Imposs…” I started to say, but then I realized that everything I’d considered impossible was, in fact, possible. “I’ve been gone for almost a year?”

  “Indeed. It appears the dwarves hid you inside an alternate realm to protect you.”

  “But I saw you in town that day. Didn’t I?”

  “You did. Why they allowed you to leave, I’m not sure,” he said.

  “Perhaps I can finally shed some light on the confusion.”

  That voice sang to my heart. “Flicker!” I bounded past Nisse and bent and embraced my friend.

  His hand patted my back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. It was my duty, and I failed.” His voice faltered in my ear.

  I pulled back to look at him, brushing tears away with the back of my hand. Over his shoulder I spotted horses and a small group of armored dwarves standing beside them, watching the tunnels. I followed their stares, and to my surprise, the entrance had faded into the backdrop of the mountains. Swerving back to regard Nisse and Flicker, I said, “Magic?”

  “That would be my guess,” Nisse said.

  Flicker nodded. “King Jörg has had you watched since your parents disappeared.”

  “But why?”

  Flicker nodded toward the invisible entrance to the tunnels. “If what happens in there turns out for the good, I will let someone else tell you. But for now, let me tell you what I can,” he said. “When King Jörg came looking to recruit me to widen the boundaries of protection around you, I didn’t want to take on the mission because with it came secrets. And we made a promise never to keep secrets. But who better to keep an eye on you than the one you trusted most?” He dipped his head. “All of that was before you entered the alternate realm. I wanted to tell you everything, but King Jörg forbade it. He sent his son, Prince Sixtus, and his general to ensure you received the advertisement for the position. He was never to go to your stall. However, in true Sixtus fashion, he disregarded his king’s orders and took it upon himself to get a look at the woman he would spend the next several months with.” He snorted. “I’ve never been particularly fond of the fellow. Couldn’t understand why the king would choose him.”

  “But,” I said, “when Lord Winslow—or this Prince Sixtus—purchased at my stall, you acted like you’d never seen him before.”

  “I was surprised to see him and nervous that he’d reveal my secret. Not to mention my poor conduct and the other misdeed.” He winked before sobering again. “All punishable acts.”

  I recalled Flicker’s offering of the ruby and his addressing the one he claimed was a prince as a “peasant” and a “pompous arse.” My eyes widened with bewilderment at his unwise behavior.

  He avoided my gaze and continued. “When we encountered Orell in the forest, I didn’t know what to do. I’m not a warrior, and I wield no magic powers, so I reported back to King Jörg. Prince Sixtus and General Crispian were entrusted with keeping you safe inside the realm—the estate. The illusion of Mrs. Potts, Lord Winslow, his daughters, and the household staff were all put in place to give you a sense of security. Prince Sixtus thought it wise to allow you to leave the realm to journey into town—a decision that caused an argument between vater and son, but the prince believed it would provide you with some normalcy. He thought if you didn’t have any doubts about the happenings in the village, you’d be content and not run off. When King Gian found out that Orell’s sister also embodied the Zwilling he sent the Seelenfresser to capture you, but after two failed attempts I suppose he decided to take care of matters himself.”

  The clash of battle rose behind me. Nisse’s hand went to his sword. I spun to find two dwarves carrying a man out of the melee—my brother in his human form. The lovely creature I’d seen containing him in the dome rushed along beside his bearers, holding his hand. All evidence of her fury had vanished, and she now wore a panicked expression.

  Leery of my brother and his power over me, I walked cautiously toward them as the dwarves lowered his naked body to the ground.

  “My son.” The woman shook with silent sobs as she knelt beside him. Blood and body matter oozed from the gaping wound in his middle. His breathing was ragged and shallow, his chest rising and falling laboriously.

  I gulped, and my limbs trembled as I stood over them, warily studying the pair before I dropped to my knees beside Orell, dismissing the cruelty he’d shown toward me.

  His eyes fluttered open, and as he looked upon the woman, fear I’d never witnessed before shone in his eyes. “Who are you?”

  She caressed his cheek. “It is I, Mutter.”

  I gasped. “Can’t you see he’s dying?” Although Orell didn’t deserve my compassion, her deception angered me. “How can you be so cruel?”

  At the sound of my voice, Orell swung his gaze to me, wincing in pain. He held out his hand. Taken off guard, I hesitated, but then I realized dying alone was a fate I didn’t wish on him. His fingers closed around mine, and through quivering lips, he said, “I guess you ain’t so weak after all.” His eyes sliced through me, and with all the strength he had left he squeezed my hand until I thought the bones would crack. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. “Delicate like a bird, but too strong in mind,” he growled. Collapsing, he shook off my hand as though burned by my touch.

  The woman resumed her ministrations, stroking his hair with the devotion and love of a mutter. Runnels of tears glistened on her pallid cheeks before melting like snowflakes into the grass. My brother took a sharp breath, then his chest failed to rise again. Death had claimed him. I choked back the thickness in my throat, but shed no tears for the brother who had inflicted so much pain.

  The woman threw herself across his chest and wept. All-consuming emotional pain radiated from every part of her. “I’m sorry. So very sorry. I was left with no choice.”

  I rose and stepped back. An arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I glanced up into Nisse’s sorrow-filled eyes. He cradled me against his side and placed a kiss on my temple. I turned into his consoling warmth.

  Several moments later, the woman rose. Blotting her tears, she peered down at my brother. “The guilt will be mine to carry.” She waved a hand at a dwarf who stood by with a blanket.

  As the dwarf covered Orell’s corpse, I whispered, with rising numbness, “Who are you?”

  The woman’s tear-filled eyes met mine. “I am Piera Fürst…your mutter.”

  The absurdity of her words was overwh
elmingly cruel, but then thinking of the form Orell had taken on as the Seelenfresser gave me pause. I cocked my head to study her, but no part of her resembled my mutter.

  She gathered her composure and looked to Nisse and I, and her gaze settled on his hand cupping my shoulder. A tender smile parted her lips and struck my heart with its familiarity. “There was one thing I always told you. Make sure your prince—”

  “Is truly a prince.” I finished the words that I’d recited in my head as a cherished lullaby. “Is it truly you?” Tears fractured my voice.

  “Yes, my Valentina, it is I,” she said. “I see you have found your prince.” She smiled at Nisse.

  His arm tightened on my shoulder. “If she will have me.”

  Dumbfounded, I swung my head to look at him, but the question on my lips was cut short as a victorious cheer erupted. A gateway to a tunnel opened, and armored dwarves marched out. Emaciated and half-naked humans and dwarves with bodies blackened with grime emerged behind them, lifting arms to shield their eyes from the bright daylight.

  “Nisse.” The duplicate Lord Winslow strode toward us. His gaze fell on me. “You must be the woman I’ve heard about until my ears bled.” Prince Sixtus’s illusion had mimicked Lord Winslow’s dry demeanor and dashing good looks. However, the prince had failed to mirror the threads of gray hair and the face lined by life’s burdens.

  “How do you do, my lord.” I curtsied. Becoming aware of my flimsy night-robe, I pulled Nisse’s coat tighter around me.

  “I want the cave sealed up,” said a man who seemed important. “Let all of King Gian’s corruption burn with his corpse.”

  “That is King Jörg,” Nisse whispered in my ear.

  I looked upon the humans and dwarves crowding the mountainside, and a familiar face gripped my attention. Vater? I pulled away from Nisse and pushed through the crowd until I reached the man. My hand flew to my mouth. It was him. He stood wavering as though he’d collapse at any moment. His ribs pushed starkly against taut flesh and the mark of the lash scarred his body. My lips quivered, and I stifled a sob at his condition. Pity for the towering bogeyman of my past filled me. His piercing blue eyes had dulled, and the strong hands that had frightened me as a child hung trembling at his sides.

  His eyes flitted around before focusing on me. “Piera, is that you?” He looked disoriented.

  All words anchored in my throat.

  “Valentina.” The woman claiming to be my mutter came to stand next to me. “Be careful.”

  Vater glanced from her to me. No recognition dawned on his face when he turned his gaze to me. “We must get home, Piera. I have cows to feed.” He looked anxious, and I realized that he lived in a confusing world somewhere between present and past.

  Her tone gentle, the woman said, “There is nothing left, Timo. It is all gone.” She looked upon him with compassion, and it became clear that she cared for him as she had my brother.

  “Mutter?” I reached out and gripped the hand dangling at her side.

  She turned and bobbed her head, silent tears staining her cheeks as they did mine. I rushed at her and threw my arms around her.

  “My sweet, sweet girl,” she whispered in my ear while smoothing my hair. “How I’ve missed you.”

  I crumbled into the safety of her embrace.

  The crowd dwindled with King Jörg’s instructions for his men to tend to the survivors found within King Gian’s mines. Mutter, Flicker, and Nisse aided the last of them into a wagon. Underneath a spruce tree that extended to the heavens, I stood wrapped in blankets and wearing boots far too large, observing King Jörg and Lord Winslow.

  “The Vormacht must be returned to the Totholz forest.” The king held out the medallion to Lord Winslow. “It is a task we entrust to no other. The journey is long, but one you must make alone.”

  “I will ready myself and set out at first light, Your Grace.”

  “Very well.” The king held out his hand. “We are indebted to you.”

  Lord Winslow shook it. “There is no debt to repay. I brought the power to this mountain, and it is my obligation to return it.” He bowed.

  Lord Winslow mounted his horse and turned it to descend the mountain. I stared after him, lost in thought.

  “Quite a boring fellow, isn’t he?”

  I jumped and swung to find Prince Sixtus standing next to me, peering after his lordship. I hadn’t heard him approach.

  “A bit dry for my liking,” I said with a smile.

  He grinned but kept his gaze on Lord Winslow’s retreating back. He sobered. “But he is an honorable man.”

  “You played him well, Your Highness,” I said.

  He turned to regard me. “You humans have a way of growing on people. When Vater sentenced me to the gallows, giving Crispian and I the task of being cooped up with you in that chateau, I thought I’d lose my mind.”

  “Gallows? That is a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

  He smiled. “I’ve never cared for your kind. The only good human was a dead one, in my opinion.”

  “And all that has changed after today?” I raised a brow.

  “No, it’s been changing for some time.” He dropped his voice, and the tenderness I’d witnessed in him in the garden when he had been Lord Winslow surfaced. “You changed me. Days inside the realm equaled weeks outside. When Vater would send someone to summon me home, the journey and days away were long, and your face was the one I thought of. I shall miss our time together.”

  I glanced at Nisse as he walked toward us, leading his horse. The prince noticed. “The human will be a good match for you. When you return to your village, I hope that I may look in on you from time to time.”

  “I’d like that,” I said. “I don’t know where life will lead me from here, but with you a prince I’m unsure if us mingling would be appropriate.”

  “Utter nonsense,” he scoffed. “A prince set to inherit the throne needs all the friends he can get, regardless of the fact one is but a mere human.” Amusement played on his face.

  I laughed.

  “It’s good to see you in good spirits,” Nisse said as he joined us.

  Prince Sixtus eyed Nisse with interest before offering his hand. “I hear they call you Nisse, and that your vater was the village’s master watchmaker.”

  “That is correct, Your Highness.” Nisse took his hand, returning the prince’s examining gaze.

  “We journey to the village to tell them what transpired in these mountains and attempt to repair the treaty. We could use your counsel in dealing with your people.”

  “I am at your service, sir.” Nisse bowed.

  “Good,” Prince Sixtus said. “I will inform my vater.”

  Nightfall had descended, and fresh snow blanketed the ground by the time the dwarves and the village council departed the cathedral with the treaty restored. Mutter strode toward me, where I waited with the other villagers for the outcome.

  “Come with me. I must speak with you.” She took my hand and guided me away from the crowd. “The council has agreed to the terms of the treaty, but with one condition.”

  “What?”

  “No magic is to leave the mountains,” she said. “Dwarves can come to trade as before, but I am not to return.”

  “But why? All you ever did was help them.”

  She glanced past me to the villagers. They huddled together, some whispering and looking our way. “I birthed the creature that butchered their families.”

  “No, I shan’t live without you. I can’t.” I gripped her hands.

  “You won’t need to.”

  “But where will we go,” I said.

  “You will stay here.”

  In a low tone, I asked, “But what of the thing that lives inside me?”

  “King Jörg thought it best if we kept that part our secret. As long as the Reinheit isn’t nurtured, you will live your life as before. You can remain here.”

  “How will I see you?”

  “King Jörg has agreed to allow you ent
rance into the mountains of your own accord.” Her fingers pushed back a lock of my hair. “We have many years to catch up on.” She smiled, and the gleam in her mauve eyes shone brighter. “Look.” She nudged her chin, and I looked in the direction she indicated. Nisse stood a few feet away, alone, with his back to us. “He waits for you. Go to him.”

  I kissed her cheek and embraced her. “My heart is full.”

  “As is mine,” she said. “Now go.”

  The Valley—Prince Sixtus

  In the shadows of the building, Prince Sixtus watched Valentina walk toward the watchmaker’s son. A heavy loneliness filled him. He’d miss the lift in the atmosphere when she walked into a room, her soft laughter, and the way she looked affectionately at his sisters, Zuna and Farrah. The girls would not miss her; they didn’t recall the woman who had played nursemaid to them. The princesses were only children, after all, and he couldn’t risk them letting the truth slip. Their memories had been temporarily replaced with forged ones before entering the alternate realm, and restored after its dissolution.

  “You love her, don’t you?” Crispian said as he held out the reins of Sixtus’s horse.

  “It is a love that could never be. Her heart always belonged to him.” Sixtus broke his trance, lowered his eyes, and turned to lead his horse through the village.

  Crispian fell in beside him. “To love is the greatest of gifts; it is one of the true riches of life that one can savor for a lifetime.”

  Sixtus considered his words. “Perhaps she has taught me what love is. Because somehow life without someone to care for…now seems empty.”

  “Spoken by a different man, sir. You’ve proven to our king and your people that you will guide our people as a leader should. It will be an honor to serve at your side,” Crispian said.

  Sixtus mounted his horse. “Come, my friend. It’s time I learn to adapt to the squabbling of old men if I’m to endure lengthy discussions between our tribesmen.”