The priest’s eyes took in everything about us; his eyes roamed over our clothing and paid particular attention to our hands. I folded mine behind my back and stared directly in his eyes.
“You there,” he said, pointing a gnarly finger toward me. “What’s your name?”
“Michael, sir. Michael Winstead.”
“That’s not a French name. Where are you from?”
I just stared at him defiantly.
“Come on. In which village were you born?”
My mind raced to come up with a name that was real, but hopefully, he had not visited yet. Unfortunately geography was not my specialty. Isolda took a step forward to stand next to Ailey.
“Why are you so interested in this information?” she questioned.
“Trouville,” I replied at the same time.
“Trouville?” he said. “Where is that? I’ve never been there before.” He did not pass the barrier that the girls had formed in front of me.
“Down… south.”
“Let’s go,” Ailey said and urgently pulled on my arm. She turned to the priest. “I’m so sorry, but we have to go. We must help out at home.”
He then turned his attention to Ailey and bowed in front of her. “Of course you must.” He said nothing further but turned to enter the village church behind him and we bolted.
“What was that about?” questioned Isolda.
“I think we need to steer clear from him,” said Ailey. “He seemed too interested in you.”
“I agree. Do you think that he could know something?” I asked.
“No, how could he?” exclaimed Isolda. “I mean, I hardly believe it myself, how could someone else even dream that we’re not from here?” We looked at her questioningly. “I mean now here,” she amended.
“I don’t know. But he was definitely interested in you.”
My stomach knotted and my chest felt tight. Ailey grabbed both mine and Isolda’s hands and kept us heading toward home.
“We’ll be okay,” she said. “We just need to be careful and keep our eyes out for anything strange.”
Isolda snickered.
“I mean, anything new strange,” Ailey responded with a half-smile. She walked on confidently but her moist palms gave away her true emotions.
❦
Now, everyone was on the lookout for gangs of Burgundian soldiers ready to sweep in and destroy the town. The priest had hinted that war would visit our village if we didn’t immediately surrender our loyalty to the new French king. Everyone was tense, waiting for an invasion.
Later that week, while we sat to eat dinner, there was another knock at the door. This knock was quiet, feeble. There was instant silence, but Isabelle stood up and answered the door. A thin and ragged man stood at the threshold. Although she was hesitant to let this stranger in, she let him pass. After his eyes adjusted to the light from the fire and candles, he looked around the room until they caught on the food on the table. His stomach growled and he clutched at it, embarrassed.
All of a sudden Jacques yelled, “Sit down!”
I jumped at his words. He was not usually so loud and rough. We were all nervous after the last questioning by the priest. Jehanette passed her bowl to the man.
“Enough, Jehanette,” Jacques said. “You’ve done enough this week.”
Tears had begun to stream down the stranger’s face in gratitude at her offer, but he hesitated to eat from the bowl because of Jacques’s reaction.
Jehanette protested, “He’s so hungry! And I don’t need it. I’m not very hungry tonight.”
“No Jehanette. This guy looks like a rascal. And a villain. He needs to work for his food, not beg from door to door.”
The man just stood there embarrassed but too desperate for food to leave. She shoved the bowl into his hands and turned back to her father to argue. “Even if he is a rascal, you cannot blame his stomach for the things that his head and hands do.”
“Of all the crazy, no good things you’ve ever said, this one takes the cake,” he responded. They stared at each other. Jehanette had obviously gotten her stubbornness from her father. Harsh lines set in their faces and their bodies stood rigid as they faced each other.
I felt compassion for this guy. He would obviously appreciate the food and I knew exactly how he felt. I was grateful for the roof over my head and food in my stomach. However, this wasn’t my house and I wasn’t sure that I had a say in what happened.
Finally, I made a decision and stood up.
“Sir, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but I remember all too easily that the Burgundian have left many homeless. I think what Jehanette is trying to say is that his hunger and circumstances may cause him to be the villain sometimes, in order to satisfy his stomach. However, I think that he means no harm, and I’m sure that he would be willing to help clean out the stalls tomorrow as payment for the food.”
Jacques shifted to look at me with interest. Jehanette put her hands on her hips, looking satisfied.
“Well, Jehanette. It looks as if you’ve recruited another compatriot.”
She looked at me with a slight crook to her lips. She was trying not to laugh.
No one said anything else, but both Isolda and Ailey stared at me, open-mouthed.
“What?” I scowled at them. They both shut their mouths, although a giggle escaped Isolda before she could cut it off with her hand.
The silence in the room was broken by the sound of a wooden spoon scraping the bottom of a wooden bowl as the man had taken advantage of the situation to scarf down every last bit of the food.
We all looked at Jacques to see how he would react. After a moment he sighed grumpily but then he laughed good-naturedly. With the tension broken, the others soon joined in. Isolda looked me up and down in appraisal and mumbled to herself, “Well, lookie there.”
I blushed, unsure what she meant but ignored it. As the others finished eating, I stood to show the stranger to the barn. The stranger had agreed to help clean the barn if Jacques allowed him to sleep there that night. The family had no more spare blankets, and so I gave him mine, knowing that the barn would be colder than inside the house.
After returning from the barn, I hastily ate my portion of the food as everyone else had already retired for the night. When I lay down I sighed, silently wishing for a soft pillow.
Isolda reached over toward me with her blanket and offered to share. After she covered me, she took my hand in hers and tucked it under her head. I looked at her in wonder. She was searching my face for the answer to some unspoken question.
I reached out with my other hand and traced the contours of her face. I lightly smoothed the stress lines between her eyebrows then I placed my hand on the side of her face and stroked my thumb over her cheek, staring into her eyes. I still felt with every fiber of my being that we belonged together.
I considered telling her everything: my feelings from the first time I met her. If there was one thing I had learned recently, it was that there was no time like today. You never knew when you would miss your chance or when your whole world would turn upside down.
Her eyes were calm and stared deeply into mine. Her breathing was in tune to mine and we breathed in and out at the same time.
Slowly, I tilted my head and leaned in toward her cheek, brushing it briefly with mine. Her whole body stilled and her breathing hitched.
I wanted this woman madly! My body ached to be close to her.
“Isolda,” I whispered.
She looked up at me with big beautiful eyes. “Yes?”
I stared back at her for a moment, unable to believe that she was lying next to me, waiting to hear what I wanted to tell her.
“I just wanted to apologize for the things that I said to you that day.”
She looked at me questioningly.
“You know, that day at school. After the riptide and when I tried to talk to you in the hallway. For the things that I said about Greg. I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t rea
lly mean them. I mean, I should have told you that I trusted you and that you should have whatever you want in life. If you liked Greg, then well, you should be with him.”
I felt awkward saying this while she was lying next to me.
I could see from the expression on her face that she was taking it all in. I held my breath, waiting to see how she would respond. She covered her mouth in embarrassment and whispered softly, “I… uh…I probably should have told you earlier but I broke up with Greg the morning that we came over to your house.”
I pulled my head back and looked at her sharply.
“I’m sorry. I know I should have told you. I just… I just didn’t know what to say. And things were so crazy here that it was hard for me to even deal with this, but I’m glad that I’m here with you now.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“Seriously?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, seriously.”
I couldn’t help but grin. I was enthralled! My arms encircled her in a tight hug and she laughed.
In that moment we were the only ones in the room. All the stress of the last several weeks melted out of my body and I fully relaxed for the first time since we arrived. The rest of the night we didn’t talk but instead fell asleep with me spooning her, my arm protectively around her. She fit there so perfectly, filling a void that I’d never known was there until I’d met her. For the first time in a long time I slept soundly.
❦
Sometime in the night something woke me. I quickly looked up to make sure that we were okay. I could see that Ailey was awake on the other side of Isolda.
“Ailey,” I whispered. She turned toward me and I could see tears in her eyes. “Oh, Ailey.” My heart felt heavy. I took one hand and held it toward hers. She grasped it but buried her face in her hair, trying to withhold her emotions.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I just miss my dad and seeing you so happy with Isolda tonight just made me miss Brooks so much.”
I didn’t know what to say. What could I? There was nothing I could do or say that would change anything.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.”
She just nodded.
“I know. It’ll be okay. I just needed to get some emotion out. I’ll be okay though.”
Worn out but still feeling awful for her, I held her hand, hoping that it would give her small comfort.
“Really, Tristen, I’m okay. I know we can make it through this.”
I nodded but waited until she fell asleep to fall asleep myself; it didn’t take very long.
❦
The next morning Ailey was cheerful again and I couldn’t help but be chipper myself, things were going so well with Isolda I couldn’t hold it back.
When alone, I whistled as I worked in the fields and sang to myself as carefree as I had been in a while. All the stress of our current circumstances, with war possibly coming to our village, the sickness of my mom, and the situation with Greg floated away. Those issues were not resolved, who knew if they would ever be, but for now I was just happy to have Isolda in my life. She and I began to open up to each other as we worked side by side in the garden or went for walks near the woods.
Isolda also grew even closer than ever to Ailey; theirs was an unusual connection as they needed to rely on each other throughout the day in this extraordinary situation. They talked often now, even sometimes way into the night, and I thought that their bond would never be broken. I began to be capable to be on my own, knowing where to take the sheep to graze and how to do my part in the fields while Jacques and his sons attended to other matters.
Still, at night we would all lay next to each other, none of us saying anything but still thinking the same thing. Home. I longed to see my mom and dad again and I was certain that they were thinking the same. We’d tried a couple of times to go back to the barn, or rifle through the books in my backpack, or anything that we could think of, but nothing changed our predicament. A small part of me was happy that we were here. I didn’t think Isolda and I would be so close without this experience. Now, somehow, in a little village in middle of fifteenth century France, I was more comfortable with myself. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I was doing things that I was good at. I was good with the physical labor of turning seeds into little seedlings, wrapping a sheep’s hurt hoof and being able to defend myself. Being able to hit a volley over a net or get a ball in a basket was no longer very important. Here, in this place, the guys my age were men, some were even married and supporting families.
But every time I saw the sadness in Ailey’s or Isolda’s eyes or felt the pang of missing my parents, I became even more determined to figure out how to return back home.
❦
One day, while we were watching the sheep graze in the field, I heard the howl of a lone wolf off in the distance. To me it had meant nothing, but Jacques jerked his head toward the sound.
“Did you hear that?” he asked his sons. Pierre nodded and Jean began to gather the lunch we’d spread out.
“Let’s go,” Jacques said to me.
“What? Why?” I questioned.
He nodded toward the sound. “Wolf.”
I stared at him. We were leaving because of a wolf way off in the distance? I picked up my bowl and shoved the rest of the bread in my mouth. I was almost done anyway. We began herding the sheep back toward their pen. As usual, they scattered to and fro but eventually they gathered along the return trail. They bleated their complaints but kept walking.
Along the way I saw a grey wolf off in the distance, watching a lamb that had strayed a bit too far. I grabbed Jacques arm. “Look!”
He spied the wolf. “Heavens!” he muttered under his breath. “Pierre, Jean, up there.”
They grabbed their staffs and began to walk cautiously toward the wolf.
“Holy crap,” I muttered to myself. I looked around me. I had no staff, no axe, and here we were going to drive away this wolf. If we were in a National Park, I’d be running for the car instead of toward the wolf.
“Okay, I can do this. I’ve learned a thing or two since I’ve been here,” I tried to comfort myself. I saw a good sized rock on the ground. “Anything can be a weapon, anything,” I continued to mutter. I picked up the rock and followed from a distance. There was another howl, this time much closer.
Bloody hell, these things traveled fast. I saw the wolf approach the lamb; it bleated nervously and tried to run for cover but the wolf decided to attack. My heart beated wildly, and Jacques, Jean and Pierre ran as fast as they could, the younger two with their staffs held high over their heads and Jacques with his axe steady beside him.
I lagged behind the group attack; I was too scared to really do anything. Once I threw my rock I had nothing left with which to fight. The wolf had a hold of the lamb’s neck and was clinging on as best as he could. Pierre, who was the fastest runner, was trying to beat it back with his staff, but the wolf maneuvered nimbly out of reach, all while dragging the lamb with him.
The other sheep ran in a group away from the action. In the back of my mind I wondered why none of the other sheep, especially the momma, tried to help. Two other wolves trotted up over a low hill, coming to the aid of their partner. They bared their teeth and growled at Pierre, threatening to attack him. Just in time, Jacques and Jean caught up with them. Jacques swung his axe, aiming for the wolves confronting Pierre, while Jean headed for the other wolf still holding the lamb. At first they didn’t seem to want to attack us directly, wanting instead to make off with their prey. Jacques cursed loudly as he grazed the wolf, but not enough to do any real damage. The wolves were extremely agile and they pranced around like ballerinas.
My heart was racing and everything around me sped up. I could see that the one wolf had dropped the lamb and it lay bleating on the ground. Then, amazingly, the three wolves seemed to huddle together, almost like football players discussing play strategies. They howled and communicated to each other and t
hen fanned out, ready to begin again. The little lamb was struggling to breathe and I could see that it was probably done for; they had almost killed their prey and were hungry. They wouldn’t back down now. This time they were more aggressive. One lunged for Jacques’ calf and bit down. He cried as he fell down, his axe thrown to the side. Pierre smashed his staff down on the wolf, but it still maintained its hold on Jacques’ calf while ripping his leg as he tried to evade Pierre. The other two wolves ran for the lamb and tried to drag it off but Jean was doing his best to defend the ewe. While just moments before it felt like everything had sped up around me, now time slowed down. I could see blood pouring from Jacques’ leg and his face was turning pale. The two wolves alternated between trying to drag the lamb off and snapping at Jean. I saw the axe lying on the ground about three yards away, red from the blood of the wolves. I was terrified beyond belief. I’d only had friendly contact with animals before and had never been in a situation where I needed to defend a life from an animal.
I threw the rock in the general direction of the wolves and then sprinted over to the axe and picked it up, all the while trying to remember the moves that they had taught me. My first priority was Jacques. As I approached them, Pierre was trying to get at the wolf without hurting Jacques. I ran up behind them and swung the axe at the back of the wolf. I would have preferred his neck, but that would bring me too close to hacking off Jacques foot. I heard a sickening crack and the wolf yelped in pain as the axe came down on the side of his ribs. I reached up again and tried this time for his spine. In his urgency, the wolf let go of Jacque, who rolled to the side while both Pierre and I pummeled it. Blood and fur spurted everywhere as we hacked at the wolf even as it fought back ferociously.
Pierre left me to finish off the wolf while he went to help Jean. My adrenaline kept me going and I kept hitting the wolf until it finally stilled. The lamb was lying dead on the ground and little bits had been bitten off as the other wolves had tried to get in a bite or two. I could hear them run off and Pierre and Jean chased them for a bit, but the wolves were much too fast. Jacques breathed heavily on the ground and moaned softly, holding his leg.
The Last Seeker: Book 1: a teen & YA magical, fantasy, paranormal, & adventure novel (TRISTEN) Page 15
