Never before had she known such loneliness, such bleak desolation. Her hands hung at her sides, and her once-beautiful gown fell about her in tatters of purple satin. Her long black hair cascaded in unkempt waves about her shoulders. She no longer cared about her appearance, though she remembered it had once been important to her. What was the point? There was no one to see her wretched state.
Though it was summer outside, a winter of her own creation whistled through the corridors, a winter of bitterness. Her bare feet left bloody footprints on the frosty marble floors, but she no longer felt the pain or the cold. When she could bear it no longer, she would retreat to her tower, the one place where she could find any warmth, any comfort. There she would gaze upon her rose.
But for now she wandered the halls, unconscious of the mournful, unearthly wail tearing its way out of her throat and echoing down the halls. Her pain overwhelmed her, and she was deaf to her own grief.
It rained in the night, but Karyna awoke to a warmth that seemed impossible from the remnants of her cold campfire. She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by long fur. The beast had kept her warm and dry. Vestiges of the sorrow she had felt in the nightmare hung heavy over her spirit, and she was amazed to discover that she remembered the dream clearly. In it, she had walked the halls of Rivenloch Palace. She felt triumphant despite the terrifying events of the previous evening: Her dreams were indeed leading her to her intended destination.
As Karyna stirred, Barend rose and backed away slowly. A strange emotion filled his dark eyes, one that Karyna was not sure she recognized. She felt her heart beat a bit more quickly and grew inexplicably embarrassed.
“Thank you,” she said, “for keeping me warm last night.”
The prince did not respond but turned and, after giving his coat a vigorous shake, disappeared into the forest. Karyna set about tacking up her horse, wondering as she did so why her hands were shaking.
Chapter 5
MIRHAVEN WAS A quiet village bordered by thick forest. The town had grown up around Lord Pentworth’s manor. Quaint shops lined its cobblestone streets, though many of them had boards across the windows. The few people outside in the early evening shot distrustful glances at Karyna and hurried past without giving the customary greeting. Karyna was not surprised. She had encountered the same suspicious reactions everywhere she stopped along her journey. The curse might have fallen on Thorndale Castle, but its effects crept throughout the entire country.
It was past midday when Karyna reached the inn, stabled Pippa, and went inside for a meal. She longed for a soft bed, but her purse was feeling light and she had the return trip to consider. The inn was a gray stone building with fresh thatch on the roof, and the interior was clean. Pleasant smells wafted from the back kitchen, and Karyna breathed deeply, her stomach rumbling a complaint. A girl about her own age with rosy cheeks and flaxen hair greeted her.
“Welcome,” the girl said as Karyna entered the common room. “I’m Alys. Would miss like a room for the night?”
Karyna felt the tension lift from her shoulders. Alys’s open, honest face was a relief after her encounter with the stranger in the woods. She shook her head. “I’d like a meal, but I won’t be staying the night.”
“Of course,” the girl spoke cheerfully. “Anything to drink?”
“Do you have tea?” Karyna asked hopefully. Tea was not a common drink in Suvall, but Barend had introduced them to the Norvuan practice of steeping rosehips and other herbs in hot water, and Karyna had acquired a taste for it with honey.
The girl squinted, a puzzled look on her face. “What’s that, miss?”
“Never mind.” Karyna gave a regretful grin. “I’ll take a mulled ale with my dinner.”
“Very good, miss. Dinner won’t be ready for about an hour. We don’t have fancy fare, just pottage for the main course. But,” she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “the apple pie is very fine indeed.”
Karyna’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “It sounds wonderful,” she said.
Alys hurried off, and Karyna seated herself on a bench at a table near the door. She leaned forward, propped her chin on her hands, and closed her eyes. It felt good to rest, even if only for a short while. She did not intend to stay long, just a quick meal and then she would be on her way.
She worried briefly about Barend. She had not seen him since that morning, though she knew he remained near throughout the day. All sign of him had vanished when she approached Mirhaven. She must simply trust that he had found a safe place to hide and wait for her. Though they could not communicate, he seemed to possess an uncanny sense of her needs and wishes.
So she tried to push that worry to the back of her mind. The quiet of the inn and Alys’s friendliness comforted her soul, and she basked in the moment of peace, however brief.
A traveler entered the inn, shaking dust from his cloak. The common room was about half full, and he took casual notice of the clientele. A burly man sat near the door, evidently hired by the innkeeper to keep customers from getting out of hand. A trim young woman sat facing away from the door at a nearby table. A local, maybe. He dismissed her. Several other tables were also occupied by groups of locals, men who had stopped in after work, a few families. The inn’s staff moved through the room with an easy rhythm. A boy, not quite yet a man, washed down a table; and a round-faced maid fairly danced between the tables, bringing people food and filling drinks.
It was by far the best inn the traveler had entered since crossing into Suvall. The atmosphere was more cheerful, less wary, though an undertone of suspicion still lingered in the people’s eyes and their hushed voices.
In the moment required to assess his surroundings, the innkeeper appeared at his side, a tall, broad-shouldered man with receding white hair and an honest face. “Welcome, traveler,” the man greeted him with an open but solemn expression. “Do you require food, drink, a bed for the night? What can my humble inn offer you this fine summer’s eve?”
“Food and drink to start,” the traveler replied. “And, if you have room, a place to spend the night. I’ve already lodged my horse in your stables.” He showed the man his coin purse, and the remnants of wariness left the innkeeper’s eyes.
“Excellent, excellent.” He ushered his guest to a table and gestured to the girl, who had just returned to the counter. She grinned and hurried toward the kitchen with purposeful strides. “Alys will bring your dinner directly.”
“Your daughter?”
“Aye.” The innkeeper lingered, a curious look on his face. “You don’t have the accent of a Suvallan. Where do you hail from, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I come from Norvue, friend. My name is Ritter.”
“Norvue.” The man looked thoughtful. “I’ve never visited there. The land of wind and snow, they call it.”
Ritter chuckled. “Only in winter, though it’s true our winters are long. Our summers are as full of flowers, sunshine, and balmy breezes as your own.”
“Have you traveled here before, then? How do our countries compare?” The innkeeper leaned against the table with a friendly smile.
“I spent much of my time here as a child.” Ritter looked thoughtful. “Norvue is far more rocky and timbered than Suvall. And of course,” he paused, giving the innkeeper a meaningful glance, “magic is less common.”
The innkeeper’s eyes darkened. “Count your blessings then,” he muttered and straightened as if to leave.
“The curse has affected you all the way out here?” Ritter asked.
The innkeeper moved his jaw as if chewing something tough then nodded shortly. “It’s not the curse itself, mind. It’s the squabbling, the raids, as every landholder in the country tries to grab a bit more for himself. Most of the time it’s us commoners that feel the brunt of it.”
“Oh? How so?” Ritter prompted.
The innkeeper scratched his chin, pondering. “The roads are dangerous, so merchants aren’t traveling, which means trade is scarce. Luxurie
s are hard to come by. Mirhaven used to be a busy village and a neighborly place to live, but most folks couldn’t make ends meet, and those of us left are barely scraping by.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ritter said, feeling true sympathy for these good people thrust into such a plight.
The innkeeper forced a smile. “Well, we can still manage a modicum of hospitality. Here’s Alys with your food and drink. If you need anything, just ask.”
“My thanks,” Ritter replied. “For now the food should be sufficient.”
Alys set a trencher of pottage before Ritter, and he dug in hungrily. It wasn’t the best food he’d ever eaten, but it wasn’t terrible. The ale tasted more like water than anything else, but it quenched his thirst, and Alys kept his tankard full. When he was finished, Alys brought him a slice of warm apple pie. He took a wary bite and found it to be one of the most sumptuous things he had ever eaten. He glanced up and saw Alys lingering, watching him with a hopeful expression on her face.
“This is delicious,” he said with heartfelt sincerity. “Your father said luxuries were scarce, so tell me: How is such a delicacy possible in times like these?”
Alys’s cheeks dimpled in pleasure. “My own recipe, sir. My pa owns a stretch of orchards, so apples are the one treat we can manage these days. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She moved on to the next table and Ritter sat back and perused the room, sipping on the tasteless ale. A snippet of conversation caught his attention.
“I overheard a strange phrase as I entered your town. Who or what is the Witch of the Wood?” a female voice asked.
Ritter raised his eyes and scanned the room curiously. The young woman he had dismissed earlier now sat chatting with the innkeeper’s son. Curious, Ritter strained to hear them better.
“ . . . local legend . . . two years . . . celebration . . .”
Ritter scowled. He could hear only fragments of the conversation. He got up and sauntered to a closer table. Neither the young woman nor the lad paid him any attention, and Ritter found that he could now hear their words clearly, though he still saw only the back of the girl’s head.
“Two years ago? Are you sure, Nik?” The girl spoke quietly, yet Ritter immediately recognized education and culture in her voice. In fact, the voice seemed familiar . . .
“Yeah,” Nik replied. “It was when all that strange business at Thorndale Castle happened. Anyway, it was a few weeks after that when strange things started happening around here too.” The lad paused and made a wondering sound. “I hadn’t thought about that before, how it all sort of started at the same time.”
“What kind of strange things?” the young woman asked eagerly.
“People started seeing odd sights out in the forest and hearing weird noises—wailing and sobbing, that sort of thing. Mysterious lights out in the woods at night, and some even say they’ve seen a cloaked figure walking amongst the trees.”
“They call her the Witch of the Wood?” the young woman interjected. Ritter risked a quick glance in her direction. She was leaning toward Nik, listening intently. Ritter frowned and wondered why anyone would be so excited about this kind of folk tale.
“They do.” Nik shrugged. “All anybody knows for sure is something unnatural is out in the woods around Rivenloch Palace.”
“Isn’t the palace abandoned since the old queen died?”
Nik nodded. “It seems whatever’s haunting the woods has taken up residence there.” He shivered. “A friend of mine knew someone who dared his cousin to go spend the night there, but he said a great mass of thorns had grown up outside, and he couldn’t get in. Don’t know if he was telling the truth; I’ve never gone, myself. No sense looking for trouble.”
“So you haven’t seen anything of this enchantress yourself?”
“Not directly, but there’s something out there. It’s not just town gossip,” the boy said with solemn earnestness. “You won’t believe this, but the roses around here have all been turned to stone. Just the flowers, mind, not the bushes.”
Ritter glanced over and—even though since stopping at Thorndale he’d hoped and expected to find her—felt a start of recognition as he caught a clear glimpse of her face.
He rose and was about to approach the young woman when the door to the inn slammed open with a loud crash. A well-dressed, golden-haired man entered and pointed an accusing finger at the young woman Ritter had been eavesdropping on.
“That girl,” the man snarled into the startled silence, “is the Witch of the Wood!”
Chapter 6
A HUSH SETTLED over the room at the newcomer’s announcement. All gazes fixed on Karyna. The innkeeper, having just returned to the common room, narrowed his eyes.
“Why don’t you come in, Master Egan, and have a pint on the house?”
“I’m telling you, that girl is trouble. She needs to be locked up!” the man said, stabbing his finger at Karyna with every word.
Nik rose and edged away from Karyna. His expression had changed from friendly to suspicious. “She was just asking questions about the Witch,” he added nervously.
“Now hold on a minute.” The innkeeper raised a hand. “There’s no reason to get excited. Let’s all sit down and be reasonable.”
“She attacked me on the road,” Egan asserted. “She’s got a beast doing her bidding.”
“Come now, good master.” The innkeeper raised his hands in a calming gesture. “The Witch of the Wood is just a story, everyone knows that. This young woman is a guest here; you can’t accuse my guests of such things.”
“She’s a black enchantress,” the man growled, his face contorted with rage. “Her beast nearly killed my Eska, my lead dog. Nearly snapped his back in half! He did kill several of my other dogs!”
A murmur rippled through the common room. Karyna cringed, her mind racing.
“Well, miss?” The innkeeper turned to Karyna. “Would you like to respond to this accusation?”
Karyna felt panic welling up, but she fought it down. “This man did approach me on the road,” she admitted, but then she raised her chin with a haughty air. “He offered to help me after his dogs spooked my horse and she ran away. When he realized I was alone, he claimed I owed him compensation for allowing me to travel through his wood. He . . . insulted me.” Her eyes flashed.
The innkeeper’s expression grew troubled. “Then what happened?”
Karyna opened her mouth but closed it wordlessly. The silence in the room grew heavy and tense.
“I see.” The innkeeper twisted his mouth to the side as though trying to avoid what he had to say next. “I’m no expert in these matters, and these are strong accusations on both sides. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to stay here while we make the necessary arrangements. Nik, please show the lady to the private suite.”
“What? Why?” Karyna burst out, leaping to her feet. “I was accosted on a free road by one of your people, and I am the one under suspicion?”
“These are troubled times, miss. I do apologize, but if you will not defend yourself, I have to wonder what you’re hiding.” The innkeeper addressed himself to his daughter. “Alys, please go fetch Lord Pentworth’s steward. He will judge between these two.”
“This is unbelievable!” Karyna bristled as Nik gingerly took her by the elbow and steered her up the stairs. “How can they believe his story?”
“Times are hard. We’ve all seen and heard unnatural things, things that scared away most everybody else,” Nik muttered. “Master Egan is Lord Pentworth’s son. Most of the people downstairs owe allegiance to his family in one way or another.”
“I have important business.” Karyna spoke stiffly, trying to sound like Princess Bellenya when she was being her most regal. “You must let me go.”
Nik glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he led her to the last room in the hallway. “Or you’ll do what?” he asked. “Cast a spell on me, I’ll bet.”
Karyna let out an exasperated explosion of breath. “No, of course not!
I don’t have magic.”
“You have a beast at your command,” Nik’s said, sounding both awed and frightened. He held a candle in one hand to light their way, and the light flickered as his hand trembled.
“Do you really believe that?”
The lad looked thoughtful. “Master Egan may not be my favorite person in the world,” he said slowly, “but I’ve never known him to outright lie.”
“Do you think I’m lying?” Karyna raised her eyebrows.
“No,” Nik replied. “But I did notice you haven’t denied it, either.” He unlocked the door. “Don’t worry, miss, I’m sure this will all get cleared up soon.”
“With my word against Lord Pentworth’s son’s.” Karyna sniffed, struggling to disguise her fear. “I’m sure I’ll get true justice.” She watched Nik flinch and regretted her sarcasm. This wasn’t his fault, after all.
He pushed the door open and gestured for her to enter. Karyna gathered up as much dignity as possible and stepped across the threshold into her makeshift prison. To her relief, Nik offered her his candle before he closed the door behind her. As she heard the latch fall, Karyna felt a mixture of emotions threaten to overwhelm her. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of what the villagers might be planning to do with her. She had no way to convince them she was not a threat, for she would not betray Barend even to save herself.
Cold fury at the thought of Egan getting away with his villainy rose up in her throat, choking her and filling her eyes with angry tears. A part of her wanted to bang on the door and shout that she was the victim, while another part of her wanted to huddle in a corner and cry. Neither of those actions would help, however, so she wiped away the tears before they could fall and focused on her surroundings, holding up her candle to better see.
The window of the room was large enough to fit through, and it faced toward the dark forest. But further inspection showed that even though it did open, she was too high off the ground to escape that way. The room was luxurious, meant for well-paying guests. The bed was an actual feather-stuffed mattress covered in heavy blankets. She considered knotting the blankets together and lowering herself out the window, but they might not hold a knot securely, and she wasn’t sure what she could fix them to in the room and still have enough length to reach the ground safely. She stored the idea in case things got desperate.
Five Enchanted Roses: A Collection of Beauty and the Beast Stories Page 21
