As the Last Petal Falls

by Jessica Woodard

  “A fearsome threat, indeed.”

  “I should think so. You’d look frightful bald.”

  She let out a delicate snort, and then a distinctly less-than-delicate hiss as Fain worked the comb through a particularly bad knot.

  “Don’t be such a baby. That was nothing. You should see the yanking I had to do on my foster-sister.”

  “And what was this valiant girl’s name?” His hands hesitated on her hair. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Your hair will be good as new in just a few moments.”

  “I didn’t mean my hair. Why don’t you want to tell me her...” Vivi trailed off. Of course. How forgetful of her. “Nevermind.”

  “Belle—”

  “No, Fain, it’s fine, really.” She stared straight into the fire, and made her voice unconcerned. “You shouldn’t tell me anything at all. And I will stop asking.”

  All the tangles were gone from her hair now, and he was running the comb over and over, from her hairline all the way down to the tips. When he had smoothed the top he began working the comb through on the underside, scraping the teeth lightly along her neck, giving Vivi shivers down her spine.

  “You could tell me more about your life.”

  She bit her lip in thought, but then gave a brief shake of her head. “It seems we’re at an impasse.”

  He continued combing, seemingly unperturbed.

  “Fain? One more question, and then I promise to stop.”

  “If I can answer it, I will.”

  “Did you send someone to Albion?” It’s what she would have done, in his place. He was silent for a minute, and she was afraid he wasn’t going to answer her, but then he let out a sigh.

  “I did.”

  “When will he be back?”

  “A few more weeks, maybe. It depends on the weather.”

  Vivi bit her lip. A few more weeks. Unless his messenger was a fool, there was every chance he would return with the news of who she really was. Vivienne didn’t know what Fain would do. The silence stretched between them, and Vivi tried to think of something to say, before he asked what she was thinking.

  “Then for a few more weeks I’ll stay with my guard and not ask personal questions, and I most definitely won’t cook anything.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “And in return...”

  “What?” He was amused, but hesitant.

  “You will keep treating me like a friend. Not a spy.”

  “So, you won’t do anything to test my trust, and in return I’ll pretend you’re not a spy?”

  “Mmm... Something like that.”

  He was silent while he gathered her hair together and ran his fingers through it one last time.

  “All right, then. We’ll try it. Now, into bed with you, Miss Whoever You Are. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Water from the enormous laundry tub splashed over the side, soaking Vivienne from her chest all the way down to her bare feet.

  At least it wasn’t cold.

  She’d been on fire with curiosity, the night before, over what her big day might encompass. If only she’d known at the time that MacTíre intended to set her to helping wash the laundry.

  Maybe she would have killed him in his sleep.

  She was working the large wooden paddle through her fourth load of laundry when Connelly peered around the laundry door and eyed her soaked shirt.

  “Belle, me lass, I believe ’tis traditional ta take yer clothes off afore ye attempt ta wash them.”

  “Connelly, were you just here to mock my washing attempts, or did you have some other, more noble purpose?”

  “I was thinkin’ I’d take a walk ta the woods, seein’ as how ’tis such a fine day, an’, since ye liked my herbs, I thought ye’d like ta come.”

  Vivienne was delighted, but checked herself. “I’m not sure. Is John invited as well?”

  “Master Marlplot has been summoned ta the stables ta help check the horses’ shoes.”

  “I’d love to go, but I don’t think I can. John is my guard today, and I can’t just wander off and leave him. I promised Fain I would behave myself.”

  “No worries, lassie, ye’ll have a guard.”

  “I don’t mean to offend you,” she said with a smirk, “but you don’t really seem brawny enough to be a guard, Connelly.”

  “Oh, not me, lass! I wouldna dream of it. No, MacTíre himself is headed ta the woods. He’ll do ta watch yer body.”

  Suddenly Vivienne couldn’t get out the door fast enough. The regular wash crew bemoaned her loss, but she promised them all to return next wash day. Marlplot agreed to accompany them through the keep, and the three made haste to Vivi’s room, where she changed out of her sodden clothing. Even with practice she was still slow, and her impatience mounted. She was going into the woods with Fain!

  She tried to walk sedately to the outer bailey, but Connelly could sense her eagerness.

  “Dinna hurry so, lass. He’ll not leave without ye.”

  “You mistake me, Master Connelly,” she sniffed, “I am merely anxious to get some fresh air. It is a matter of supreme unconcern to me with whom I... I...”

  Vivienne forgot what she was saying.

  Fain was leaning next to the stables, broad shoulders resting against one of the massive raincatchers that were used to supply the horses with water. Billy Notter was standing, earnestly nodding to something MacTíre was saying, and Vivienne heard him give a laugh and say, “Good lad.” His dark hair had been tied back in a rough club, leaving the rugged lines of his face exposed. It looked open and relaxed, and Vivi realized she had never seen him so at ease before. With her there was always, even in his lightest moments, the thread of mistrust and suspicion.

  She watched him, reveling in the chance to do so unseen. She watched as he reached out with his strong hand and ruffled Billy’s hair. She watched as his dark, magnetic eyes shone down at the happy boy. And she watched as his mouth—that firm, proud mouth that so captured her attention—curved into a gentle smile. He must have forgotten to shave that morning, because the faint shadow of stubble graced his cheeks. Vivi itched to draw her fingers down his jaw. She wanted to trace the contours of his chin, and glide her fingertips down to the warm, beating pulse nestled at the base of his throat. She wanted to burrow into his thick woolen jacket until she rested against the hard plane of his chest, listening to his heart beat in her ear.

  She wanted him to be this carefree man with her.

  Without thinking, she heaved a great sigh, and at the noise Fain turned towards them.

  “Why so despondent, Belle? I would have thought a day in the woods would be more to your liking than a day as a laundress.”

  Vivienne pretended she didn’t feel a pang of regret at the way his face closed off when he caught sight of her. Instead, she pulled her countenance into dramatic lines of worry and angst.

  “I am merely contemplating the loss of toes that is sure to ensue from my parading around in the snow barefoot.” She wiggled her toes at him to emphasize the point.

  “Well then,” Fain replied, “you must thank Master Notter for his dutiful efforts on your behalf.” When Vivienne raised an eyebrow quizzically at Billy, the young boy offered her a large bundle.

  “Master MacTíre sent me ’round this morning, looking for gear to suit you, and seeing to your boots.”

  Vivienne clapped her hands in delight at the sight of her own riding boots, cleaned and polished until they shone, jumbled up with a motley collection of winter gear.

  “Billy Notter, you are a veritable knight in shining armor.” He beamed at her, until she kissed his cheek, whereupon he promptly fled.

  “Really now, lass, ye’ve got ta be wary where ye bestow such things.” Connelly winked at her. “Not every man can withstand yer allure. We’re not all of us knights like Master Notter.”

  “Actually, Connelly, I’m feeling very resistabl
e these days.” She cast an arch glance at Fain, but he loftily ignored their banter.

  “Hop up on this barrel, Belle, and I’ll help you with your things.”

  “A lady of good breeding does not hop, Master MacTíre.”

  “Climb up?”

  “We don’t do that either.” Vivienne kept her face smooth, even when she caught Connelly’s twinkling eye.

  “Then what do you do?” Fain was trying to keep a straight face, but the corner of his mouth was twitching.

  “We ascend.” Vivi, without ever losing her regal hauteur, skipped over to the barrel and bounced up on it, wiggling her rear end to settle herself. Then she lofted her foot towards Fain and nodded to him graciously. “Proceed.”

  Belle was soon bundled up in the gear that Billy had collected. He’d found a heavy shirt somewhere, as well as an old, worn wrap that one of the men had been using as an extra blanket, and a bright red cap that no one else was willing to wear, since it made them too conspicuous in the snowy forest. Last but not least, Billy had taken his old gloves and trimmed the fingers, so that Belle’s long-fingered hands would fit inside. She looked like a ragamuffin, but she claimed she was toasty warm, and that was all that mattered.

  The three made their way out the sally port and began trudging towards the tree line. There was a faint path broken in the snow, but still, it wasn’t easy making their way through the drifts. Fain moved in front of Belle, trying to shuffle his feet without her noticing, clearing as much of the snow as he could. The pines protected the forest floor, so that much of the snow there was just barely above their ankles. Once they began moving beneath the trees, they picked up the pace, with Connelly leading the way.

  The air was cold and scented with fallen needles, but the brisk pace was more than enough to keep Fain warm. Judging from Belle’s smile and bright-eyed interest in the forest around them, she wasn’t cold, either. Of course, her nose and cheeks were the shade of holly berries, but then, his probably were, too. Just then she caught his eye and smirked at him.

  “You look like you’ve rubbed your face in a strawberry patch.”

  “Yes, well, you look like you played in your mother’s rouge pot.”

  “I dinna know what ye look like, but ye both sound like wee children.”

  At Connelly’s dry interjection they both started, and then started snorting with laughter. Belle put her thumb to her nose and waggled her fingers at him, and Fain stuck his tongue out.

  “Just for that, the two of ye can gather the spindle fruit, ye rascals.”

  Fain laughed at Belle’s look of trepidation. Who knew what she expected, with a name like “spindle fruit,” but when they arrived at the large bush overflowing with yellow-orange pods, she was delighted.

  “They’re like beautiful little packages! What do you use them for, Connelly?”

  “Stomach tonic, mostly. The lads tend ta stuff themselves at the Yule festivities, an’ they’ll be needin’ this the next day.”

  While Fain and Belle gathered a pail of the little pods, Connelly stripped some bark carefully from the spindle. Then he led the way through the forest towards the source of the stream that ran through the small valley. A shallow cave system marked the spring’s bubbling beginnings, and it was into that cave system that Connelly headed. Belle took one look at the giant icicles hanging from the mouth of the cave, like the teeth of some giant beast, and balked.

  “Why do you want to go in there?”

  The little man cackled. “’tis where I gather my newts’ tongues, lassie.” When Belle blanched, Fain gave his friend a stern look.

  “Tell her the truth, Connelly.”

  “Ah lass, the caves still grow mushrooms, down in the dark where ’tis not so cold. I gather them for the Shapherds. An’ just a few for my potions.” Belle laughed nervously, and Fain wondered what had unnerved her.

  “Could I stay here? I promise not to wander off.”

  “Never fear, lass, MacTíre wouldna say it, but he prefers the open air himself. Ye can both stay here, I’ll be but a moment.” With that he disappeared into the dark.

  “Wh at spooked you, Belle? You look like someone ambled over your grave. “

  She refused to meet his eyes as she answered. “I like Connelly, you know I do, but have you never noticed anything, I don’t know, fae about him ?”

  “He’s got an excellent weather sense, but other than that? No,” he answered casually, but his curiosity was piqued. Did Belle know something he didn’t?

  “It must just be me, then.” She smiled quickly, but Fain felt like she was hiding something. “I believed him, that’s all. When he said he was after newts’ tongues. I’d believe him if he said he was after demon ichor.”

  Fain didn’t know what to say to that, but he was saved the trouble of responding, because at that moment Grey Tip poked his nose out from the mouth of the cave.

  “ Fain! It’s the wolves! “ Belle clutched at his arm in alarm, but Fain gently disentangled her.

  “I was wondering if they’d show themselves.”

  “What?”

  Fain didn’t answer. Instead, he yipped softly in greeting to Grey Tip. The large lupine predator huffed in response, and then slunk out the rocky opening. Behind him came the rest of the pack, tongues lolling out in wolfish grins as they ringed the two humans.

  Belle had gone deathly still, staring with wide eyes at the emerging pack. She made a strangled noise, but said nothing, as Fain dropped to his knees in the snow and allowed Grey Tip to bowl him over. Once Fain was lying flat on his back, with the wolf draped over him, he looked back at Belle.

  “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to pass out quietly.”

  Her voice was soft, but the wolves’ ears all flicked towards her as soon as she spoke, and she squeaked in response. Fain laughed.

  “Belle, I believe you’ve met Grey Tip, and his pack.”

  “Are you telling me that this is your wolf pack?” It had taken a few moments of pure shock, but Vivienne had finally sputtered out a question.

  “Of course not.” Fain had sat up, and had one arm looped over the giant wolf.

  “Then—”

  “This is Grey Tip’s pack. I just belong to it.”

  Vivi stared at him in consternation. The man was barking mad.

  “If it makes you feel better, just think of it this way: they’re friends.”

  “But they chased me!”

  “Well, yes. But you were invading their territory.”

  “I—” She checked herself. “I suppose that’s true. But why chase me at all? If they like people?”

  “On no, you’ve misunderstood me. They aren’t tame. They don’t like people. But I’ve been an adopted pack member for a long time, so they like me, and anyone they see as my friend.”

  “So they chased me because...? “

  “They weren’t sure you were a friend.” Fain spoke lightly enough, but Vivienne heard the undertones. He still wasn’t sure she was a friend.

  Grey Tip stuck his nose in Fain’s ear, and the man jumped.

  “Ga hhhhh... All right, stop wuffing at me. Belle, would you come here?”

  “Why?” She was suspicious.

  “You need to be properly introduced, so Grey Tip can accept you. Or not.” Fain tacked on the last two words with a smile, but Vivienne was nervous.

  “What happens if I don’t get accepted?”

  “Well, I don’t think they’ll actually eat you...” He trailed off and she squeaked. Again. She was going to have to give herself a stern talking to. This was simply undignified. “Relax, Belle, just come over here.” She took two hesitant steps forward. “Oh, but I should probably warn you—”

  Fain never had a chance to warn her of anything. With one bound Grey Tip left his side and landed before Vivienne. She straightened her spine. If she was going to be eaten by a wild animal she would do it like a full-blooded member of the Royal House of Albion, not like some snivelling coward who couldn’t stop squeaking. Her resolve almo
st faltered when the wolf reared back and placed his heavy front paws on her shoulders, but she swallowed hard and took a deep breath, and then stared straight into the giant golden eyes.

  Grey Tip’s muzzle was inches from her face. His hot breath smelled like sweet copper, and his teeth gleamed in the weak sunlight. A light breeze ruffled his heavy winter coat, but otherwise the two stood motionless, gold eyes meeting violet.

  Then he licked Vivienne’s face, from chin to hairline.

  “Ewww...”

  Grey Tip dropped his paws back to the forest floor, and graced Vivi with a wolfish grin as she scrubbed her face. Then he yipped and dashed off into the trees, with the rest of the pack hard on his heels.

  Fain was laughing at her. “I think you’ve been accepted.”

  Vivi gave him a dirty look, and then flopped down into the snow. “That was... quite a shock to the system.”

  “You did well. I was much more frightened the first time he did that to me.”

  “And when was that?” She gazed at him speculatively. “When were you first accepted by the wolf pack?”

  “When I lived alone in the woods, for a time.”

  “Why?” Vivienne asked before she could stop herself, but then immediately covered her ears with her hands. “No, don’t tell me. I’m not supposed to be asking things like that, am I?”

  “No, you’re not.” But he chuckled as he said it. “Although I can hardly blame you. Still, let us wait on that answer until things are... more settled.”

  An awkward silence settled between them. Fortunately, Connelly chose that moment to return from the subterranean mushroom forest. Once he was standing next to Vivienne, he looked around at the prints in the snow.

  “So the wolf came ta greet our lass, did he?”

  “Indeed.” Fain took bundles from Connelly as they spoke.

  “An’ did the great beastie slobber all over her?”

  “He did seem to take to her remarkably quickly.”

  “What can ye say, lad, some critters are smarter than the men I know.”