Beast of Robbers Wood

by Ralph E. Vaughan

  Stoneman froze when he heard it. Ravyn rolled out from under him and ran to the altar. Something wicked was this way coming, and the girl was unprotected. As he reached her, he saw hands jerk, legs tremble. He helped her up, then wrapped his coat around her. He put himself between her and the approaching danger.

  In the closeness of the forest, it was impossible to tell from what direction the sound came. The only thing certain was that it was approaching rapidly.

  Bushes to Ravyn’s left shook furiously. The cry again split the air. A huge creature leaped out of the night, limbs flailing, claws flashing, eyes burning like coals, ragged fur streaming like banners. It landed near Stoneman. The man started to fall upon his face, then abruptly attacked the animal. In seconds, Wendell Stoneman was slashed to ribbons. His body stood for a moment, then fell away.

  The girl, clinging to Ravyn, buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed in terror. The chief inspector put the girl behind him and faced the Beast. The creature attacked.

  Ravyn flung himself upon the creature, wrapping arms and legs around it. The Beast could not bend its limbs in such a way to use its claws upon Ravyn as it had Stoneman. It screamed in rage and sought to fling the man away.

  The scent of the Beast in Ravyn’s nostrils was vile, a heady musk that almost caused him to reel. The creature’s strength was tremendous. Ravyn knew he could not hold on much longer.

  The Beast sank its fangs deep into Ravyn’s shoulder, the same one Wendell had stabbed. Ravyn slammed his fist into the Beast’s thrashing head, but the angle was too awkward to give him any real power. He felt his strength ebbing. In moments, he knew, he would be as dead as Wendell Stoneman. Through the physical pain he felt an even deeper pain, that of failure to keep a promise.

  Claws finally penetrated clothes and flesh as the Beast levered its paws past Ravyn’s clinging hold. Ravyn was thrown off, landing near a tumbled pile of rocks. The Beast rushed him.

  The Beast staggered back, yelling in pain. It seemed to glow. Ravyn heard shouts from behind. Dazed and battered, Ravyn barely understood what he was seeing, but everything still flowed into his memory, understood or not.

  Much later, Ravyn would review his memory of that moment with a comprehension that escaped him at the time. He saw a flung police truncheon catch the Beast in the head, then another in the chest. He heard sounds of pummelled flesh and splintered bone. The glow upon the creature became the beams from torches, allowing him to see it clearly for the first time. Dark shapes rushing past him resolved into the forms of three men. He saw them attack the Beast, saw the Beast flee, long strands of fur flying wildly. Then Stark’s thin face loomed large in his vision.

  “Are you all right, sir?”

  “Help me…” Ravyn gasped. “Help me up.”

  “You should lie still, sir, you’re pretty torn…”

  “Help me up, damn it.” He stood, wavered, then decided to sit on a block of stone. “The girl…”

  “Lessing’s got her, sir,” Stark said. “He’s bringing her over.”

  “How did you…” Darkness swam before Ravyn’s eyes, but he fought his way back. “The tunnel?”

  “Yes, sir. Came out among the stones behind you.” He pointed. “They’re all down there, sir. Generations of them.”

  “Who?”

  “The girls…the missing girls.”

  “It got away, Sarge,” Matthews said. “The Beast escaped.”

  “Not the Beast,” Ravyn said softly. “Not the Beast of Robbers Wood, or Shudmell’s Realm for that matter.”

  Stark frowned. “But we saw it, sir. I never would have believed it, but there it was in the light from our torches.”

  “Zoriah,” Ravyn said. “Zoriah Stoneman channelling the Beast. The ancient regalia allows a shaman to assume the nature of the Beast.” He uttered a weary laugh. “A man in a monster suit.”

  Stark pulled out his mobile. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “You and one other take Miss Jenks through the tunnel,” Ravyn said. “Meet the ambulance in the village. It will be faster.”

  “I’ll not leave you here, sir,” Stark said.

  “Leave Lessing,” Ravyn said. “Text them our coordinates. We will wait for Angus and Dr Penworthy.” He winced in pain. “And the paramedics of course.”

  Stark sent the information to all concerned.

  Lessing passed Elizabeth into Matthews’ care.

  “It will take both of you to get her through the tunnel with any speed,” Ravyn said. “The wolfsbane solution is starting to wear off, but she’s still in a poor state.”

  Stark looked to Lessing.

  “I’ll stay with the guv,” the constable said.

  “All right then,” Stark finally agreed. “Let’s go, Matthews.”

  “Help me down there, Lessing,” Ravyn said as Stark and the other constable started into the tunnel with the girl.

  Lessing looked to Stark, who had turned at hearing Ravyn. After a moment, he nodded. He knew they would have better luck arguing with a donkey than trying to talk Ravyn out of anything. By the time Lessing helped Ravyn to the hidden opening, Stark and the others had vanished into darkness. Ravyn reached for his torch, then recalled it was in his coat pocket.

  “Here, sir.” Lessing handed him his own torch.

  Ravyn leaned into Lessing support as he swept the beam over the remains of dozens of victims. A few had tatters of skin, fragments of fabrics, but most were skeletons, bones scattered by the work of vermin. Somewhere in the ossuary was Dolores Cooper, long abandoned by family and all but one friend. And also midst all these relics of suffering and cruelty was Hardwick’s sister. If only Hardwick had known, Ravyn thought, how close she had actually been while he wondered and searched for answers.

  “All right, Constable, let’s get out of here,” Ravyn said. “I’ve seen more than enough.”

  “Do you think that madman might have come back?” Lessing glanced about warily as they emerged into the night. “He was hard enough to handle with the three of us.”

  “He won’t be back,” Ravyn said. “He’s been banished from his temple, for the second time. More than that, however, we robbed him of his animus. He’ll never recover from that.”

  Lessing tried to understand what Ravyn was talking about, then gave up. He had been told by others that this chief inspector was quite the odd duck, and he certainly seemed to be.

  “We’ll catch him though, won’t we, sir?”

  “Robbers Wood is a fine place in which to hide, but not so vast as to hide forever,” Ravyn said. “He’ll be found, sooner or later.”

  As it turned out, Zoriah Stoneman was discovered sooner than later. One of the forensics technicians enroute to the ancient temple with the paramedics stumbled over him. The costume mimicking the Beast had been ripped to pieces, as had his body. Apparently, he had been savaged by a wild animal.

  Stark was waiting when the paramedics emerged from the deep woods, Ravyn strapped to a litter. When the ambulance departed for Stafford, Stark rode in the back.

  “You should have stayed to supervise, Stark.”

  “Supervise who? Mr Powell-Mavins? Dr Penworthy?” Stark shook his head. “With old Zoriah now brown bread, there’s nothing else to do but protect the scene. The sergeant I left in charge can do that much, I hope.”

  “Elizabeth?”

  “In hospital,” Stark said. “Her aunt is with her. I received a bell from the doctor. She’ll be fine.” He did a double-take. “Oh, and I was told to tell you… Wait, let me get this right: ‘Tell Arthur that Dottie said thank you and that Blossie would be proud of him.’ That make any sense to you, sir.”

  Ravyn sighed. “Perfectly.”

  “Sir, I know now it was Zoriah Stoneman in a costume of some kind, but…” He paused. “The way he was killed. Do you think there could be a Beast in Robbers Wood? A real one?”

  “We had Billy Tremble, James Treadwell, and Wendell and Zoriah Stoneman, not to mention all the murderous Stonemans before them
. Do we really need another Beast?”

  Ravyn drifted into a soft and dreamless sleep.

  Epilogue

  ACC Karen Ramsey bit her lips as Ravyn told of the ossuary. She had read his official report several times, had seen photos of the remains removed from the chamber to Stafford, and had closely followed efforts to identify individuals, but listening to his detailed personal account elicited emotions the written word failed to stir.

  “We have remains of several dozen individuals,” Dr Penworthy said into the silence that followed. “We’re doing our best to identify them, but some are so old we may never know who they are.”

  “But there is hope for the more recent ones?” Despite her best efforts, Ramsey’s voice quavered. She frowned. She had vowed there would be no tears this evening, a vow she was on the verge of breaking. “I’m thinking of Dolores Cooper, of course.”

  Penworthy patted her arm. “We’ll find her.”

  “It pains me to think that all these years, Dolores was no more than a few miles from home,” Ramsey said.

  “Sick sons of bitches.” Stark flushed at the words that escaped unbidden from his mouth. “Sorry, ma’am, it’s just…”

  “Call me Karen,” she said, not for the first time. “We’re off the clock and under the radar.”

  Stark forced a smile. He could not address the assistant chief constable familiarly, and did not want to. He was uncomfortable enough sharing a table at the Hook and Eel. They were in a dark corner, shielded from the main room, but he worried about being seen. He felt it would lead to trouble, though he was sure trouble was coming anyway. The window of opportunity was now firmly shut. Heln made that abundantly clear in their last meeting. He had already told Aeronwy that Ravyn was not retiring, that there was no promotion in his immediate future. He usually dismissed maxims as foolish optimisms, but he firmly hoped that the closing of a window would be accompanied by the opening of a door.

  “I’m sorry?” Stark realised Ramsey had asked him a question.

  “I asked about the Stonemans,” she said. “When did you realise they were behind the abductions?”

  “Rather late in the game, I’m sorry to say,” he replied. “And it was really just Wendell, not the old man.”

  “Not this time, but he was surely responsible for abducting and murdering your friend, as well as Hardwick’s sister.” Ravyn winced as he lifted his ale. “And quite a few more.”

  “Shouldn’t you still be in hospital?’ Ramsey asked.

  “Save your breath,” Penworthy said. “I’ve already tried.”

  “I’m fine,” Ravyn said.

  All three rolled their eyes.

  “The medical profession tends to be overcautious,” he said. “I am the best judge of how I feel.”

  “That’s why I appreciate my patients,” Penworthy said. “The dead do not argue.”

  “You said Zoriah Stoneman killed others besides Dolores,” Ramsey said. “How many?”

  “Six, total.”

  “How do you arrive at that?”

  “Zoriah took over from his father upon his death,” Ravyn said. “He served as the Beast’s High Priest till he was deposed by his son. In that time, the stars and planets aligned in a specific configuration six times.” Ravyn paused. “As it turned out, it would have been better for Wendell had he deposed his father by killing him, as his father did to his grandfather.”

  “Monstrous,” Ramsey said.

  “It was the family business, but Wendell had no head for it.”

  “A prat, the old man told you,” Stark said.

  “He kidnapped Lisa Martin far too soon,” Ravyn said. “With the ceremony several days off, he should have waited, but he let the opportunity of the moment overcome his father’s training.”

  “Are we certain she was not taken by Billy Tremble?” Ramsey asked. “He was in the vicinity and she was his type.”

  “Not entirely,” Ravyn admitted. “But whether Wendell took her from the lane or took her from Tremble, it was an opportunity he should have let pass. Ultimately, it was their downfall.”

  “He had to keep her sedated and hidden away too long,” Stark said. “Even with that tunnel, he could not keep a close eye on her.”

  “And he had to watch out for his father as well,” Ravyn said. “Given the chance, Zoriah would have killed him and taken back the mantle of the priesthood.”

  “Wouldn’t that have broken the lineage?” Ramsey asked.

  “It was already broken,” Ravyn said. “No son.”

  “That may have been the main reason Zoriah despised him so much, don’t you think?” Penworthy suggested. “In every hereditary priesthood, the first duty of the high priest is to produce an heir.”

  “Losing Lisa like he did didn’t help any,” Stark said.

  Ravyn nodded. “Wendell blamed her escape on the quality and quantity of the wolfsbane, but in truth he was inexperienced. If you have less of an herb for a tincture, you use less solution, resulting in a stronger dose. It’s likely, also, he was afraid of using too much.”

  “He wasn’t afraid of that in the hospital,” Stark observed.

  “No, he was desperate then,” Ravyn said. “Just as his eagerness to acquire a sacrifice overcame his judgement, so did his anxiety. If he had let her be, he could have taken care of her later.”

  “He feared she would come to and talk,” Ramsey said.

  “And tell us what?” Ravyn asked. “It would either be a story about a man in a fright mask or a stranger we later found dead.”

  “We know that he was killed by Wendell in that costume,” Penworthy said. “I’ve revised my conclusion in his postmortem.”

  “Could it not have been Zoriah?” Ramsey asked.

  Ravyn shook his head. “Had it been the old man, he would have freed Lisa after killing Tremble. He would have known it was too soon to acquire a sacrifice.”

  “He did all right,” Stark said. “Almost the death of you, sir.”

  Unlike Ramsey, Ravyn did not try to get Stark to let down his guard for this off-the-record meeting. The sergeant needed bulwarks and barriers to keep his life in order, to separate work and home. He knew this was not the time to breach them. He did not know exactly what had transpired between Stark and Heln, either these past many weeks or more recently, but he knew it was over. Whatever battle had been silently raging had concluded, not in Heln’s favour, but probably not Stark’s either. His own last interview with Heln was an indication of that.

  “Yes, he was quite strong,” Ravyn agreed.

  “I don’t wonder,” said Penworthy. “His blood was infused with herbs and chemicals, all stimulants. It made him strong and fast, but it’s also a wonder they didn’t burst his heart, especially at his age.”

  “I’m pretty sure the mad old badger wasn’t as feeble as he put on, mind or body,” Stark said. “I figure he put on an act to fool everyone and to keep Wendell from suspecting he had plans.”

  “His rants about the Old God were to foment fear,” Ravyn said.

  “What about that costume?” Ramsey asked.

  “Actually, it’s more a regalia of office,” Ravyn said.

  “Regardless what you call it, it was most amazing,” Penworthy said. “I was unable to match the fur to any mammal. Some aspects were almost reptilian. The claws were arboreal while the fangs in the mask were from some creature capable of injecting venom.”

  “So, a composite of several animals?” Ramsey asked.

  “No, just one with conflicting traits, and I don’t know that I can call it an animal,” Penworthy said. “I found traces of human DNA not matching the Stonemans. All I can say with confidence is that it is incredibly ancient. I sent a fragment to Oxford for a carbon test. I received the results just before I left the lab—at least five thousand years.” She scowled. “It’s unfortunate we won’t know more.”

  Ramsey sighed. “It had to be done. Sir Geoffrey was pressured by the Home Office. I had no choice but to sign the transfer.”

&nb
sp; “And now it’s in a crate housed in a warehouse with aisles that go on forever, never to be seen again, lost in plain sight.” Stark saw their blank expressions. “Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

  “Ah, yes.” Ramsey smiled. “You may be right, Leo.”

  Stark tensed at the use of his Christian name, but said nothing.

  “Things getting back to normal in Midriven?” Ramsey asked.

  “As normal as things ever get in the villages of Hammershire,” Ravyn said. “Morris Teype has already bought the general store, taken the post office commission, and signed on as newsagent.”

  “That was quick,” Stark said.

  “People need goods, pensioners need payments, and the Royal Mail will not be delayed,” Ravyn said. “Helspeth will manage it.”

  “She’s staying then?” Penworthy asked.

  “She likes life in Midriven,” Ravyn said. “With Lisa on the mend, she’s anticipating becoming part of village life.”

  “Sounds like things are really looking up for her,” Ramsey said.

  “Especially since she gave Roger Pym the old heave-ho,” Stark added. “That’s something that should have happened long ago. He’s out of her life, and now out of circulation.”

  “Yes,” Ravyn agreed. “Caught stealing supplies from Latten Builders for his own handyman business. Case comes up next week. It does not involve us, of course, but I look forward to attending. Given the outbreak of morality in Midriven, he might find it better if he moved on.”

  Stark smirked. He had seen nothing to change his view of Hammershire’s villages as nice-looking bandages over festering sores. Thinking of the horrors below Midriven, he considered his point of view more justified than ever.

  Penworthy’s eyebrows shot up. “Morality?”

  “Mostly due to James Treadwell,” Ravyn explained. “Despite his mother falling on her sword, his reputation is in tatters. Because he put on such a respectable front, the villagers are looking at other respectable citizens. Most are holding up, but others are scrabbling to live up to their façades, hence the outbreak of morality.”

  “What will happen to the mother?” Penworthy asked. “Surely no one believes that story of hers.”