The Werewolves of Nottinghill

by J. J. Thompson

  “Renfrew, yes,” Aiden said distantly as he stared down at his hands. “It was destroyed, but not by dragons. Too small a target for them, I suppose. Instead, a wave of drakes swarmed through the town like giant rats, killing anyone they could find. Malcolm and I...”

  His voice trailed off as he looked at the big man, who smiled back sadly.

  “We weren't directly in harm's way,” Malcolm said to Katherine. “Aiden and I were... What would be a nice way of putting it? Sequestered away from the general population when the drakes hit. Ironically, it saved our lives.”

  The trio heard a door open and looked over to see Daniel Cooper, the castle's blacksmith, walk in and greet Tamara and Sebastian. Apparently he'd been invited to join the meeting.

  “Sequestered?” Katherine asked as she turned back to look at Malcolm. “I don't understand. Why would you be sequestered?”

  “Because we were monsters,” Aiden said harshly.

  The cleric flinched at his tone and he shook his head.

  “Sorry. Even after ten years, the memory is still infuriating. Our fellow townspeople were afraid of us, you see. Neither Malcolm nor I look anything like we did before we Changed. He's still black and I'm obviously still of Korean descent, but that's about it. And the Change that we went through was so obvious that our families and neighbors kind of...”

  “Freaked out,” Malcolm said dryly.

  “Yeah, that's about right. Others in town might have Changed as well, but either their changes were more subtle or they were smart enough to hide away from their fellow townspeople. Mal and me? We Changed too quickly and were too stupid to try to hide it. And so the town's mayor and police chief, with the blessing of our families by the way, decreed that we should be locked away 'for our own good'.”

  Katherine gasped in shock.

  “But that's horrible!” she exclaimed. “Your own families condoned that?”

  Aiden didn't reply. For the first time that she could remember, Katherine saw the man in an obvious rage. His jaw was clenched and his dark eyes looked like black holes in his face, wide and empty. The memory was obviously still very painful for him.

  “To be fair,” Malcolm said as he gave Aiden's arm a quick squeeze, “this happened after we had lost all services. No power. No water. Most of the technology around us had failed. Not even guns worked anymore. And it's not as if we were chased through the town by a mob armed with torches and pitchforks.”

  Aiden glared at him and he smiled back crookedly.

  “Were we?”

  “No. No, we weren't,” Aiden replied reluctantly. “Our families weren't afraid of us, really. They were concerned for our safety, not their own. Anyway, we were asked to stay in this underground storage area while the authorities figured out what was happening to us.”

  He chuckled under his breath, his anger evaporating quickly, as it always did.

  “They went to a lot of trouble making that place livable, remember Mal? Dug us a latrine, and a well, painted the place, all of that.”

  “Yeah, it wasn't horrible,” Malcolm agreed. “Even gave us a supply of books, along with loads of canned food, clothes, etcetera. And then a month later, almost to the day, the drakes came.”

  “What was that like?” Katherine asked in a low voice.

  Before either man could answer, there was a sharp rapping sound and the three of them looked toward the head of the table.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Tamara said with a smile. “But I think that we should get this meeting started, hmm?”

  “Yes, of course,” Aiden said. “Whenever you're ready.”

  Chapter 2

  “Now, just in case any of you were wondering why our friend Daniel is with us today, let me explain,” Tamara told the group.

  She glanced at the blacksmith, who had taken a seat next to Veronique and, in turn, he looked around the table in his slow, dignified way. His face was expressionless.

  “Daniel is very respected by our neighbors here in Nottinghill and because of that, Sebastian and I felt that we should include him in all of our meetings from now on. I know that none of you are out of touch with the 'common people', so to speak, but let's make sure that it stays that way, hmm?”

  “Do you think that we are out of touch with them, Daniel?” Malcolm asked the smith in surprise.

  He had never given himself airs and neither had Aiden, and Malcolm felt surprised that Tamara might think that any of the leaders might have done so.

  “No, I do not,” Daniel replied seriously.

  The blacksmith always spoke in a slow, deliberate way, which forced those who listened to him to wait patiently to hear him out. Malcolm suspected that it was a calculated tactic on Daniel's part and he actually approved of it. No one could rush the smith, whether he was speaking or working. It was just the way he was.

  “But the people here are just ordinary folk, for the most part,” Daniel continued. “And they do not want anyone lording over them. None of you are like that and it is important that you stay that way. If my input can help in that regard, then I am happy to provide it.”

  “Good,” Aiden said. “We aren't the elite, nor do we want to 'lord it over anyone', as you call it. And if you ever hear of any of us doing that, Daniel, then I for one would like to be told about it.”

  “Have no fear,” the smith told him with just a hint of a smile. “I am not shy about speaking my mind. Our lost friend, the lady Liliana, would have told you that if she was still with us.”

  A pall fell over the room at the mention of Liliana's name, but Aiden nodded at Daniel's reply.

  “Yes, I'm sure that she would have. Speaking of which, what are the people saying about her now, and about her sacrifice?”

  Everyone around the table looked at the blacksmith. Even Chao turned away from his contemplation of the fire to focus on him.

  Daniel clenched his heavy fists on the table in front of him and took a moment to look from face to face before answering. Malcolm noticed that everyone met the man's eyes steadily, as if they were trying to pass some sort of test.

  Maybe we are, he mused.

  “I have heard nothing but admiration for the lady paladin,” Daniel finally said. “She was always a rather private person, as I am sure you all know, but she'd been kind and generous to everyone who met her. But now...” He hesitated. “Now she has become something more in the eyes of the people. Something... mythic, I suppose is the proper word. There are actually a large percentage of the castle's inhabitants who believe that Liliana is still alive. They seem to think that she defeated the primal red dragon and then just rode away on a quest to aid others.”

  Daniel shook his heavy head.

  “I have not said anything to dissuade them of this belief. Why would I? But it is a very strange way to cope with a loss, don't you think?”

  A momentary silence followed his question and the smith looked around the table again with a frown.

  “Am I missing something?” he asked, directing the question at Tamara.

  “You are a wise man, Daniel,” she said somberly. “Wiser than your slow demeanor might suggest. I've begun to suspect that your simple persona is a bit of a facade.”

  “Perhaps it is, lady mage,” he replied with a shrug. “But if so, it is not a calculated one. I pay attention, that's all. To my surroundings, to what people are saying, all of that. So, what am I missing here? Was this sudden elevation of our lost friend planned?”

  “Not planned, per se,” Sebastian spoke up. “But Daniel, you know as well as we all do that people need heroes, especially now that the dragons have returned. We decided amongst ourselves to allow the residents to come up with their own theories about what actually happened after the encounter between Liliana and the primal. And if we are asked about her fate by our neighbors, well, we've just been leaving it up to them to come to their own conclusions. Some have accepted her passing, of course, but others have not.”

  Malcolm was fascinated to see that the blacksmith didn't seem
particularly surprised by this revelation. Liliana had admired the man a lot. Now he could see why. Daniel was obviously a very wise person.

  “And would you prefer that I follow the party line and leave the lady paladin's fate to the people's imagination?” the smith asked Tamara.

  She gave him a slow smile.

  “That is entirely up to you, Daniel. We lead the castle as administrators, not dictators. If you want to confirm to everyone that you meet that Liliana is dead, then that is your choice. I suggest that you follow your heart and do what you think is in the best interests of the people.”

  The blacksmith laughed suddenly and shook a thick finger at Tamara.

  “Ah, you are a sly one, lady mage. All of you are. I can see why the castle's residents look to you for leadership. By leaving the choice up to me, you also put the onus of the people's belief on to my shoulders. Very well. I will not lie to anyone; that is not my way. But as I myself am unsure of Liliana's fate, that is what I will tell others if they ask me. I do know that the lords of Light had blessed the lady paladin; the outcome of her clash with the dragon makes that obvious. So I will say that much. The people may then come to their own conclusions.”

  Aiden nudged Malcolm and leaned toward him.

  “Clever man,” he whispered.

  “Definitely,” Malcolm muttered back.

  “Thank you, Daniel, for your candor,” Tamara said. “That is exactly why we have welcomed you into the Council. You know the people we serve even better than we do and occasionally we need that grounded point of view. Now, on to the business at hand.”

  She shuffled through some papers piled on the table in front of her and finally tapped one of them.

  “Here it is.”

  Tamara looked down the table and Malcolm noticed a shadow of deep fatigue on her face.

  “I've just realized that we've all become bureaucrats over the past few months,” she said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

  The others laughed as well, mainly because they knew that Tamara was right.

  “But we do have a list of mundane issues to deal with today, so please bear with me,” she added. “Let's begin.”

  The rest of the meeting dealt with a diverse range of topics, from crop planting schedules to guard rotations and training. Plans were put into place for a new system of piping for sanitation purposes. New residents who were still trickling in from all over Britain and beyond had to be assigned quarters and given jobs to do to help support the castle. And so on and so on.

  Halfway through the three hour meeting, several workers from the kitchen entered the room with trays of sandwiches and jugs of hot tea. Everyone took a break to stretch and eat something and Malcolm found himself standing next to the fireplace speaking with Chao.

  “So how are you holding up?” the big man asked him as he ate a third chicken sandwich. “I know that you've been recovering your strength since we battled that trio of young dragons.”

  “I am honored by your concern,” Chao replied with a small bow. “I am back to normal, I think. Or at least I am much improved.”

  The man was wearing an Oriental-styled blue robe, with tiny red butterflies stitched into it. Malcolm wondered vaguely which artisan in the castle had created such a beautiful garment.

  “I'm glad to hear that,” he replied as he watched Chao sipping his tea. “I have a feeling that with the primal dragon's death, we may have enraged others of its kind. So your summoning powers may be needed again, sooner rather than later.”

  “Others of its kind?” Chao repeated. He looked skeptical. “The lady Liliana destroyed the primal red dragon, which means that all of its offspring have died as well. That is how it works, does it not?”

  “That's what I've heard.”

  “So, do you really think that other dragons will want to take us on? I do not think that they will know how the primal was defeated. All they will know is that he is dead. I doubt that any of them will come anywhere near Nottinghill Castle after that, at least not any time soon.”

  “Huh. I hadn't thought of it like that,” Malcolm admitted as he swallowed the last of his sandwich. “I just assumed that they would be angered by his death and seek retribution.”

  Chao shook his head and sipped his tea.

  “The different dragon species dislike each other, my friend. Three of them may have cooperated to attack us, which unfortunately led to the primal seeking vengeance for its lost child, but that was a one-time event. I do not believe that they will do so again. I do have another fear though.”

  “Which is?”

  Both Malcolm and Chao looked at Aiden, who approached them with a smile. He handed Malcolm a steaming cup of tea and glanced at the smaller man.

  “Sorry, I just heard that last part. You're afraid of something, Chao?”

  “Yes, I am. With the loss of the red dragons, there are only two species left here on Earth. The black and the brown dragons.”

  “True. And?”

  “And I fear that with the death of their brother, the two primals still living in the Void with the mighty Argentium might decide to return to this world as well. Whether to seek revenge or just to support the others of their kind if there is some future conflict. I do not know if that will happen, but it worries me.”

  Malcolm gulped down some tea and winced as it burned his throat.

  “Oh boy,” he groaned. “Just what we'd need, more of those damned monsters in the skies.”

  “Exactly. As I understand it,” Chao continued, “the two primals in the Void are the green and white dragons. Their old counterparts, the original primals, were destroyed by the wizard Simon O'Toole. Correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “Well, as much as I respect the talents of Tamara, Sebastian and the other mages living here in the castle, none of them wield the kind of raw power that a wizard does. If those new primals take up the evil ways of their ancestors, I doubt that we will survive.”

  “Gee, I thought that this was going to be a fun meeting,” Aiden joked.

  Malcolm and Chao both smiled at his comment.

  “At the moment, though, things are quiet,” Chao said more seriously. “Which means that we have some time. Time to shore up our defenses and to make plans. And as I said, I am only speculating. We know that the new primal dragons are not inherently evil, thanks to them being raised by Argentium. So we can hope that they will now avoid the human race entirely.”

  “Yeah, let's hope so,” Malcolm agreed. “It would be nice to get back to a regular routine for a while.”

  Tamara called them all back to the table and they resumed the meeting. When they were finished, everyone left with piles of notes in their hands and a lot to think about. Chao had mentioned his concerns to the entire group and everyone had come to the same conclusion that Malcolm and Aiden had: wait and see what would happen. They really had no other options.

  As the meeting was breaking up, Tamara asked the two warriors to remain behind for a moment. Once everyone had left, she motioned for them to follow her.

  “What's going on?” Aiden whispered to Malcolm.

  They trailed along behind the mage as she made her way through the halls of the castle.

  “No idea. Were we bad boys?” he replied with a teasing grin.

  “Not lately. Maybe...”

  “Would you two stop whispering, please?” Tamara asked irritably without looking back at them. “I'm not your teacher taking you to the principle's office, you know.”

  The two men exchanged embarrassed looks and followed the mage silently after that.

  Malcolm was surprised when the three of them entered what he assumed were Tamara's private quarters. He'd never had a reason to visit them before and he looked around curiously as the mage motioned for them to take a seat.

  The walls in the living area were painted a lovely shade of blue and all of the furniture was constructed of ash, a pale wood that made the room look brighter and more inviting.

  Malcolm and Aiden sat down
on a long couch covered with tan leather. There were small tables at each end of the sofa and both held stacks of books and rolls of parchment. Over the couch hung a large painting of Nottinghill Castle.

  “Who is the artist?” Aiden asked Tamara as he looked up at the picture. “The details in the painting are amazing.”

  The mage smiled as she sat down on a small divan across from them. Between the couch and the divan was a coffee table covered with stacks of papers and half a dozen pencils.

  “They are, aren't they?” Tamara replied as she stared at the painting. “It was a gift from Robert Duchaine. Do you know him?”

  “Duchaine. Duchaine,” Aiden muttered with a frown. “Doesn't ring a bell. Mal?”

  “Nope, sorry. I don't think I know him.”

  “Not surprising, I suppose. Robert pretty much keeps to himself. He arrived alone about two years ago. Somehow he made his way here from France. Don't ask me how. He mentioned something about a leaky skiff that he found, in Dunkirk of all places. He managed to coax the thing across the Channel and landed only a few miles to the south of here.”

  Malcolm looked at her dubiously.

  “The guy just 'happened' to find the castle? Quite the coincidence, don't you think?”

  Tamara chuckled at the warrior's tone.

  “And here I thought that I was the most skeptical person in Nottinghill. Malcolm, he found us the same way that a lot of other refugees have; he was sent here by a dream.”

  Both men exchanged confused looks.

  “A dream? Wait a second. People are drawn here by dreams?”

  “Good grief, where have you two been? Did you think that the refugees who arrive here just wandered in randomly?”

  “Well no,” Malcolm told her a bit defensively. “I just sort of assumed...”

  His voice trailed off and he scratched the back of his head.