by Kate Hill
Richard halted the men. Filip raised his arm and ten bows pointed their shafts to the sky. He dropped his arm and death filled the air. A second and third wave of arrows followed the first in quick succession. Confusion and disorder broke out in the ranks as men screamed and fell.
“I believe they know we are here,” Richard laughed. “Our arrows were thirsty, nu?”
“Da, but let us not forget, they are eager ta spill our blood as well.” Filip pointed to a group of armed riders approaching. “We have company.”
“Crossbows ta the ready!” Richard ordered. “Hold fast…hold…fire.”
With his broadsword held at the ready, Filip charged the remaining riders. A clash of steel rang out across the valley and a helmet rolled through the grass. The sightless eyes of the man stared to the sky.
Filip ducked a slashing blade, and with an outward thrust sent his blade into his attacker. His horse spun and he ducked. Richard’s arrow whizzed by his head and felled another of their enemy.
“Retreat!” Richard ordered.
Filip took one last swing with the massive claymore and a severed arm dropped to the ground. Digging his heels into the flanks of his horse, he joined his men.
“It has been a long time since yer blade has feasted.” Richard yelled. “Next time, my lord, do not be so anxious to die. The night is still young.”
Darkness crept across the valley and still their enemy pressed forward, fewer in number, but wiser, and more watchful than before.
With the castle in sight, Lord Gravely halted the advance and campfires began to twinkle in the night. The howl of the beast sounded in the still mountain air and a hush descended over the meadow.
The twinkling fires grew brighter as they added fuel. “They seem ta be a little nervous,” Richard chuckled.
“Da, and with good reason.” Filip crouched and made his way through the tall grass.
The field came alive around them with screams, yells, and the clash of steel. Filip slashed, parried, and countered with his broad blade. The enemy pressed him on every side, trying to get past the claymore as it danced upon the night. He felt a tug and an intense burning rose up his arm.
The beast came out of nowhere to stand beside him, and faced those who attacked his rear. She lunged, going in under the tip of a sword and ripped open his throat with her razor-sharp teeth.
Twisting in midair, she snatched a spear thrown at Filip and let it drop harmless in the dirt. Attacking at whatever extremity she could reach, the beast charged through the horde. Limbs snapped like twigs, blood dripped from her mouth and face. Panic spread through the enemy forces and those whose hearts and minds were not frozen in fear dropped their weapons and ran.
Lowering the claymore slowly to the ground, Filip took in the carnage. Men lay dead or dying around him. His hands, covered in the drying blood of the fallen, lost their death grip on the long wooden handle of his broadsword and it dropped onto the crimson-stained grass.
The bitter metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and assaulted his senses. The sounds of the battle around him lessened, as did the moans and cries of the dying. Refusing to support him any longer, his legs buckled and he sank to his knees.
“Come, Zolona, I can hear the panting of the beast.” With great effort, he raised his arm. A moan of protest rumbled in his chest. “It is over. For now we have won.”
The beast towered over him. Her hot breath bathed his face. Filip reached out and touched her, running his fingers through her matted, sticky hair.
“Thank ya. I was starting to think I would never see ya again.”
She licked his face and Filip smiled. “I am not the only one who needs a bath.”
“Filip!” Richard called to him from the night.
Through the moonlight, he saw a shadow walking through the killing field. “Over here, Richard.”
“We have won.” Richard sank to the ground beside him. “Praise ta the gods, we have won.”
“Da, for now,” he took a deep breath and sighed in exhaustion, “but it will soon be light. When Gravely sees we are but few, he will attack in force.”
Richard’s joyous laughter filled his ears. “He is dead. True, I saw him with mine own eyes. The enemy has broken and fled.”
“Surely ya are mistaken.” The beast pushed against him and he fell on the ground. “Zolona, I am too tired for games.”
“Nu! When the battle started, Lord Garlanzo opened the castle and attacked from the front as well. Weston Gravely has surrendered what little of his army he has left.”
“Then…it is truly over.”
“Da,” Richard clasped him on the arm and he winced. “You are injured. Come, I will get you ta the castle.”
“It is nothing, I will…” Filip felt like he was floating. Thick dark clouds passed over the moon, shutting out the light.
* * * * *
Sitting beside her bed, Zolona held Filip’s hand. With Maria’s help, they had bathed him, bound up his wounds, and laid him in her bed. Time seemed to stand still, as she and the beast kept their vigil. None of her sisters remained close. They following Charline and avoided her like the plague.
“Zolona.” His weak voice brought giddy relief and a smile to her face.
“It is about time ya decided ta wake up,” she chided. “Ya had us worried.” She leaned over and kissed his lips.
“How long have I been here?” His eyes roamed the room.
“Three days.” Lifting his hand to her lips, she placed a kiss on his fingers.
He started to get up and she pushed him back to the bed. “Wherever you think you are going, forget it. Ya need ta eat so ya can get yer strength back. I will have Maria bring ya some of the broth she has been keeping warm.”
“Broth?” His mouth turned down, his nose scrunched, and his face wrinkled. “There be nothing wrong with my stomach. I was injured in battle, not suffering from some unknown affliction of my bowels. I need something ta sink my teeth into.”
“Ya will take the broth, even if Maria has ta hold ya down while I pour it down yer throat,” she teased.
Filip sighed, “Da, I will take the vile stuff, but only if ya promise me something more substantial later.”
“I must warn ya,” she laughed. “We have eaten fowl for two days. Maria was not sure how many birds it would take. She killed all the birds that were too old ta run, and long past the time of being tender. Trust me, you are getting the better meal.”
“Are ya badmouthing my cooking again?” Maria walked through the open door, crossed over to the bed, and sat down. “I see ya finally decided ta join us. Welcome back ta the living, Filip.”
“Thank ya. It feels good ta be back.”
“Zolona, ya haven’t left the room hardly in three days. Run down and get Filip his broth. I’ll sit here and make sure he behaves.”
“If yer sure ya don’t mind.” She stood and stretched. “I will be right back.”
Maria waited until she left the room. “Filip, I found a book at yer place, and from what I am able ta understand, the third part of the curse can only be broken by ya, on the Altar of Sacrifice.”
Filip closed his eyes against the truth. “Then we are doomed, for I feel she will not willingly allow it ta happen.”
“Why would she wish to remain as she is?” she questioned.
“Because of my promise ta not seek the title for as long as the curse remained.”
“Then you spoke foolish, my lord. Though ya seek it not, it is yers by birth.”
“Father is relieved ya are awake.” Zolona entered the room, “and the cook is happy ta be finally getting rid of the broth.”
He took a look at the large steaming bowl. “It smells wonderful, but if I take all that I’ll, ah…overflow the chamber pot.”
Zolona laughed. “Ya need not be embarrassed, Filip. Who do ya think has taken care of ya at night while ya were taken ta the bed? She knows yer body as well as she knows that of her husband, or almost as well.”
“Then
I am in debt ta ya, Maria.”
She waved off the notion. “It was nothing. As the betrothed of my dearest and closest friend, I consider ya part of the family, even if there be nu plans for the wedding.”
He finished eating and noticed the light through the window beginning to fade. Shadows crept slowly across the floor. His glance at the window and then at Zolona did not go unnoticed.
“Ya can relax, my lord.” Maria laid her hand on his arm. “I have witnessed the horror of the change. It is never easy, seeing her suffer the hell of the beast, but knowing there is hope to break the curse helps.”
“What is this about breaking the curse?” Zolona questioned with alarm in her voice.
Maria turned her head away. “I am thinking, since it was lifted from Filip, there is hope for ya, too.”
“Then ya hope in vain, Maria, for I…”
Zolona doubled over, grabbed her stomach, and fell to the floor. Blood flowed from her lip in a feeble attempt to stop the agonizing cry as the beast emerged.
Maria covered her face with her hands, “Is there any cost too great, my lord, ta have her set free?”
“Nu.” He looked upon the beast with a heavy heart. It walked over, sniffed the bed, and licked his face. The wolf turned and ran from the room.
“She will be back. She goes to kill the animal set out for her.” Maria slipped off the bed. “Do not, I pray, let yer promise interfere with what ya know is right ta do.”
“Ya place me in a most difficult path, Maria.” He ran his hand over the three-day stubble of his beard. “If I go ta the Altar of Sacrifice ta meet the beast at the morning, she may kill me to protect her family. If the curse is broken, then she will hate me and never speak to me again. I would rather share her with the beast for I care not ta live without her.”
“Lord or nu, ya be a selfish man, Filip. I thought ya were different from your mother.” She turned and left the room without a backward glance.
Her words were a slap in the face. Had she been a man, he would meet her on a field of honor. Mother was evil, not selfish. It was difficult to remember the beginning of the curse. Her desire for position over the then Lady Gravely started her seeking powers she did not understand. In four hundred years, she never gained the poise and elegance of Lady Gravely. Bitterness and envy had sprouted evil and only in her death did she find peace.
The beast entered the room on silent feet, crossed to the bed, and laid her head on the bed.
“Ya were right about the broth. I feel my strength returning.” He scratched the black head behind the ears.
“Maria says I am selfish like my mother. What do ya think? Am I like her?”
Her long, rough tongue licked his face.
“Ya knew her better than most people. Whenever she came ta visit, she always talked about you. How ya were so perfect. She hated your family; course she hated every family that lived here.”
Filip swung his feet out of bed and sat up. “I feel like going for a walk.”
The beast growled.
“I have been in bed long enough. Ya can walk with me. In truth I would like ta have ya with me.” He found his clothes, dressed, and crossed the room to her door where the beast blocked his way.
“There is only one way ta stop me from leaving, my wolfen queen.” He stared the beast in the eye. Slowly she lowered her head and moved aside. The beast fell in behind him as he descended the stairs.
At the outer door, he turned. Maria stood in the flickering light of a torch. Her accusing silence stung worse than her words of rebuke. He opened the door and entered the courtyard.
Old habits died hard. Although the beast had fought for them, those outside scurried away in fear. A small child wandered into view only to be snatched up by a terrified mother and hauled to safety. Is this the life ya want for her; living with the rejection of her family and forced into hiding like ya were?
His feet took him down the cobblestone path, through the trees, and to the lake. Stars filled the heavens with a dazzling brilliance like millions of torches burning in the distance. Shadows of the waning moon were softer, turning the ruins of the gazebo into dark fingers lifting out of the earth. An owl called to its mate, the song of the whippoorwills filled the night, and across the small lake, the smack of a beaver’s tail echoed across the water. The high-pitched scream of a night cat brought the beast’s head up. A momentary hush settled over the area.
It should have been peaceful, but the turmoil tearing him apart from within, marred the tranquility.
“Go, my wolfen queen. I will rest here, and await yer return.” She hesitated briefly at his command, turned, and disappeared into the night.
Sitting by the water’s edge, he drew his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs. An old acquaintance, loneliness, sat down beside him. Why the troubled heart? You are free at last to enjoy life.
Da, I am, but at what price? His mind questioned. Ta grow old watching Zolona remain young, trapped within the curse.
Have not I been yer faithful companion through all these past generations? Do not be concerned with the beast. When ya are gone, I will keep her company.
He lowered his head to his knees. Yer presence was never welcomed and even now, I grow weary.
Then ya know what ya must do.
“Da, I know.” Filip picked up a stone and threw it into the water. The ripples spread out across the smooth surface. From the center of the circles, the water began to boil with an evil hiss; steam rose and formed a small cloud that hovered inches above the surface. It glowed bright against the darkness and slowly moved towards him. The crackle of a demonic laugh filled the air.
Chapter Seven
Anger and resentment welled up inside of him. “Go back ta hell where you belong, Mother.”
“Ya dare ta try ta destroy the curse? Ya cannot do it, I will not allow it.” Lightning flashed within the cloud and the pungent odor of brimstone filled the air. “They must be made ta suffer, as I have all these years.”
“Nu!” He jumped to his feet. “It is time ta end the curse and the hatred yer foolish pride caused.”
“I have had my revenge on the House of Gravely. Now I will have it on those who sit at my table as though they have the right ta what was mine and is yers by right of birth.”
“I will break the curse or die trying,” he said with growing conviction.
“Then ya shall join me,” she promised. “For ya shall not succeed.”
“I love Zolona, and for this reason alone I must try.”
“Love!” her sarcastic cackle echoed across the lake. The hovering mist lifted and he was alone once again.
His words surprised him. Did he love Zolona? To be honest, the word was foreign to him, as was the emotion. “Love.” The full extent of its meaning wasn’t clear. He mulled the word over, let it roll off his tongue, and found to his delight it was sweet to the taste and pleasant to the ear.
Filip turned from the lake and strode through the grass to the old ruins. The moonlight had faded, even now the eastern sky held the faint glow of the approaching sun. He loosened his trousers and let them fall to the cold stone.
The beast stood on the other side of the gazebo as if unsure and leery of being inside the circle of stone pillars. With cautious steps, she approached, giving the large flat rock in the center a wide berth, and stopped in front of him.
Using her massive size, the beast blocked his way to the stone. Filip stepped to the left and then to the right. The beast countered each move, never taking her large eyes off of him.
Kneeling down, he lifted his hand to her head. She backed away, teeth bared and a low growl rumbled from her throat. “Ya do not want ta hurt me, Zolona. I am yer shadow-time lover. Remember, ya told me how I used ta come ta ya in yer dreams.”
He stretched out his arm, her head became a blur, and her jaws snapped shut on empty air as he jerked his hand back. “Ya are not going ta make this easy, are ya?”
With every muscle coiled, he lunged
, wrapped his arms around the body of the beast and stood, pushing it toward the stone. Pain shot down his arm as her teeth sank into his shoulder. The beast toppled backward on the altar taking him with her.
Filip felt the beginning of her change. Her tortured howl rent the shadowed predawn gray. Thrusting his hips against her, his cock pierced the flesh of the half she-wolf Zolona.
Hot human flesh filled his hands. Zolona’s body shook with her sobs. Filip tried to rise up but his arm failed him and he fell to lie beside her. Blood matted her hair, covered her left breast. He struggled to sit up and blinding pain forced his eyes closed.
Her tears splattered on the Altar of Sacrifice. “I was willing ta live with ya forever. Why, Filip? Does the title mean that much ta ya?”
“I do not have forever. I would grow old and die, while you remained young. In time, we would have resented each other, and after I was gone, ya would have known the true lonesomeness and isolation of the beast.”
He paused, as the altar spun, and the stone pillars danced in the morning light. “The why is easy, I love ya.”
She opened her eyes and gasped, “Filip, ya are bleeding.”
“A love bite, my lady,” he tried to smile. “A small price ta pay ta set my betrothed free.”
“Filip!” He collapsed on top of her, and she pushed his body onto the stone altar.
Evil laughter filled the old ruins. “Ya cannot have him!” She recognized the voice and ran for the castle.
Disregarding her nudity, Zolona burst through the courtyard and into the main living quarters of the castle. Servants stared, openmouthed at her blood-drenched body. “Where is my father?” she demanded.
One of them pointed to the dining hall and she rushed in. “Papa!”
“Child, what is the meaning of this and where are yer clothes?” He jumped to his feet and the chair toppled backwards with a crash.
“Filip is dying and the witch has returned for him. Papa, ya must do something.”
“Where is he?” He was already in motion, heading towards the door.
“At the lake.”
