The Princess and the Wolf
Page 1
The Princess and the Wolf
A Fairytale
by
Linda Sole
A Sanctuary for Wolfdogs and Captive-Bred Wolves
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Their mission in life is to provide sanctuary for abused and refused wolfdogs and captive-bred wolves and to provide education about these misunderstood animals.
Full Moon Farm, Inc. relies on the generosity of its donors to maintain their wolfdogs and wolves.
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828-693-7387
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Swannanoa, NC 28778
828-686-3500
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Princess and the Wolf by Linda Sole
Red Rose™ Publishing
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Red Rose™ Publishing
Copyright© 2009 Linda Sole
ISBN: 978-1-60435-324-2
Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett/Merris Hawk
Editor: Melissa Glisan
Line Editor: WRFG
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The Princess and
the Wolf
By
Linda Sole
Angelica had been running for hours. The light had faded gradually, and soon it would be dark in the woods. She did not fear the woods or the creatures in them, for they were her friends. As a child she often hid from people, climbing into the branches of a friendly tree while they searched below and called her name in vain. Then she had laughed because the people she evaded were her nurses or her teachers, but this time she was afraid of being caught.
She was to be married to a man she did not know, simply because he was the ruler of a neighbouring country, and her Uncle, who was now the ruler of Lindisfarnia, needed to make a new treaty. Angelica was hardly out of mourning for her father, who had been prince of Lindisfarnia, and now she was to be married. Her feelings were of no account and Prince Harlan was coming here to claim her.
“I shall not marry unless I choose!” Angelica's brave words rang in her ears as she remembered the terrible quarrel with her Uncle when he had told her she must marry a man she had never met. Eyes flashing, proud and haughty, she had defied him only to be locked in her bedchamber and told she would do as she was bid or face the consequences. She had no idea what her Uncle meant by this except that she feared he would like to be rid of her by any means possible. Her death would give him complete control of the kingdom.
Angelica had chosen to escape by climbing out of her window onto the branches of a tree. Hearing a servant cry out, she realised she had been seen; panic swept through her as she fled the palace gardens.
“Stop her! She is escaping!” The shouts and cries followed her as the servants gave chase almost at once. In her terror, she had run and run until the cries became fainter. She had escaped into her beloved woods, chest heaving, her side hurting as she put as much distance as possible between her and those that pursued her. Surely here she would be safe! The sounds of pursuit ceased after a while, but Angelica kept running. She would never return to the palace! She would not allow her Uncle to sell her to his neighbour for gold and a treaty!
Angelica’s pace slowed to a walk as she looked about her, beginning to realise that her life must change, because she was no longer a princess. Now that she had defied her Uncle, she must find a living for herself. She had no idea how she might do that, but she would do anything rather than marry the wicked Prince Harlan! The servants had whispered in corners of his cruelty, of his mad rages and wild ways—and this was the man her Uncle would have her wed!
As Angelica fought to recover her breath, a strange cry echoed in the depths of the wood. Somewhere a creature was in pain. Hunters set cruel traps in the woods. She had learned the trick of them when she was a child, and she had set more than one poor creature free.
Her own problems momentarily forgotten, Angelica listened intently then heard a howling noise, which sent shivers down her spine. The only animals she knew might be dangerous to her were the wolves that hunted in packs in these woods. People spoke of them in whispers, for it was said they could tear the unwary traveller to pieces—if they were hungry enough they might attack her.
Walking cautiously towards the source of the sound, she heard a low snarl and her heart beat wildly. As she entered a small clearing she saw where all the noise was coming from and stopped. A small wolf—little more than a few months old—had its leg caught in a cruel wire trap. It was struggling, trying to break free, but with each attempt the wire tightened and pulled deeper into his flesh.
“Oh, you poor little thing,” Angelica said apprehension replaced with pity. “I can help you if you will let me. Please do not be frightened. I want to set you free.”
The wolf looked at her, snarled, and its hackles rose. It sent up a howl of fear and anger, which was answered from somewhere deep within the woods. Angelica felt ice at the nape of her neck. The pack was somewhere near. If they thought one of their young was in trouble, they might come investigate.
“I am not going to hurt you,” Angelica said walking slowly towards the wolf. She knew that talking softly often helped to calm wild animals. Even small creatures fought when they were frightened, and she had been bitten once or twice, but the wolf-pup had sharp teeth. “Stop pulling like that. You will only make the noose tighten. Stay still and I shall free you.”
The wolf stared at her, its eyes a melting yellowish brown that touched her heart. She saw it was terrified so she moved very slowly, murmuring words of comfort. The pup whimpered and fretted but then its ears pricked and it looked towards a thick clump of trees.
Angelica did not dare glance around. She kept her eyes fixed on the puppy and continued to talk softly. The wolf-pup had quietened. She was near enough now to see the trap. The wire wa
s cutting into the wolf's flesh, but had not yet become so deeply buried it would be impossible to remove. She held out her hand to let the wolf get her scent, hoping he would understand and not bite her. The wolf made an uncertain snarling noise in its throat but made no attempt to snap at her.
“That's right,” she said softly. “Let me help you, I hate the cruel men who set these wicked traps. I will loosen the wire and remove it from your leg. I have nothing to put on the cut to help it heal, but I was told once that wild animals lick their wounds. Once you are free, your family will help you.”
She smoothed her hand down the wolf's leg. It flinched and trembled but the snarling had ceased, and it did not attempt to bite her. Angelica worked carefully, loosening the wire and easing it wider until the opening was big enough to slip his leg through. As soon as it was free, the pup shot off toward the trees yelping, the injured leg hardly touching the ground.
Turning her head to watch, Angelica saw four pairs of yellow eyes staring at her from the trees. She swallowed hard, fearing that they would attack her, as one lifted its head and howled. However, as if it were a signal, the others turned and slid silently into the dense woods.
The wolf that had howled stared at her for a moment longer then it too, turned and vanished into the woods. Angelica breathed a sigh of relief. She began to destroy the trap, pulling it out of the earth, and twisting the wire into a knot so it could never be used for such a vicious purpose again.
Once she had finished her work, she searched the bracken for signs of other traps but found no more. After some minutes had passed, she sat down on a fallen log and stared into space. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, because she had no idea what to do next. She was hungry and thirsty, and she did not know where to find food.
She would not give way to self-pity! She brushed the tears from her face and got to her feet. Somehow she must find food and somewhere to sleep for the night. Her encounter with the wolves warned her that it would not be wise to sleep in the wood, and it was too dangerous to go on, for all kinds of perils might be waiting for her in the darkness.
She turned in a full circle, trying to decide which way to go. Hearing a rustling sound in the trees to her right, she decided to take the left path, which looked as if it might have been used by woodsmen going about their business, rather than some others that appeared to be the trails of animals. It would be so easy to go round and round in circles for she had never come this far into the woods and she was lost.
She walked for some minutes and then came to a fork; once again she had to choose between turning to her right or her left. As she hesitated, she heard a growling sound from her right and she turned left because she felt anxious that one of the wolves was near. Her spine prickled because she sensed that she was being watched…followed. Glancing to her right she saw a pair of yellow eyes staring at her from the midst of the trees.
Angelica held her breath. Would the wolf attack her? She had stopped walking and so had the wolf. She took a few steps forward and the wolf did the same. It was tracking her! Fear coursed through her and she was tempted to flee, but if she did that the beast might attack. She fought for calm. Why had it not attacked her before this?
As she turned her head from the wolf, determined not to show fear, she saw a bush laden with ripe blackberries and she walked towards it, picking a handful and eating them. Never had food tasted so good! She turned her head and looked at the wolf; it was still watching her with those yellow eyes.
“You brought me here.” In a strange way it was true. She had turned this way because she had not wanted to stray into the wolf's path. “Thank you for my supper.”
Picking more berries, she ate them as she walked, now very aware of her shadow. Each time her steps faltered, the wolf made itself known, seeming to beckon with its compelling eyes, leading her in a certain direction. Somehow, she felt comforted, as if she had a friend—as if he were protecting her, helping her. When she saw a cottage just ahead, she ran towards it. Her heart raced with excitement. Perhaps here she would find someone who would offer her shelter!
Angelica knocked at the door. No answer came. She placed her ear against the door, listening for some sign of life within but heard nothing. She tapped the door softly once more. Still, no sound from within! When she pushed tentatively against the door it opened, creaking slightly as it swung open on rusty hinges. She ventured inside cautiously, wondering what to expect. A small fire was burning in the grate and she saw a candlestick on a scrubbed pine table.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
There was no answer, Angelica was uncertain, clearly someone lived here, but there was no sign of the owner. Would it be too impertinent of her to sit by the fire and wait until the owner came back?
The wood was dark and the night cold, too cold to sleep under the stars. Here in the cottage she would be safe and warm—but dare she take the chance that the owner might return and be angry? She was too tired to go on. She must risk it and hope that whoever owned this cottage would show her compassion.
A jar of tapers stood next to the fireplace. Angelica took one, lit it from the fire then lit the candle. Now she could see the large room more clearly. It was a room used for living and cooking, furnished adequately but without luxuries, or anything that a woman might bring to her home. A huge dresser stood at one end and a small chest at the other. There were platters and tankards on the dresser and a pitcher.
Angelica investigated the contents and discovered that the pitcher contained water. Surely, the owner would not mind if she drank a little? She poured some into a tankard then saw the covered platter on the table. Lifting the cloth she discovered bread and cheese. Her stomach rumbled, the berries had been delicious, but she was still hungry.
Dare she eat just a little piece of the bread and cheese? She had no money to pay for them, but perhaps there was something—some task she could perform in payment?
Glancing round the cottage, which was reasonably clean and neat, Angelica found a rush basket filled with clothes. She shook her head as she saw the tears in the fine linen. She would not have expected to see such good cloth in a cottage such as this. Opening the lower drawer on the dresser, she found a box that contained skeins of silk thread and a needle box. A smile touched her mouth as she realised she had found the way to pay for her meal and shelter. She would eat some of the food then she would mend these beautiful shirts with stitches that would make it almost impossible to see where they had been torn. In the morning, if the owner returned and she were allowed to stay, she would wash and iron them.
It was late into the night when Angelica finished her self-imposed task. She folded the last shirt, placed it in the basket, then got up, and went into the small back room. She had peeked in earlier and discovered a bed. Since it seemed the owner was not returning that night, she blew out the candle, which had burned very low, and crawled beneath the covers. She was so very tired.
“What are you doing in my bed?”
Angelica woke with a start as she heard the voice. She sat up, her heart pounding as she saw a man glaring down at her. For a moment she was too frightened to speak then she blurted out her tale of being lost in the woods and frightened of the wolves.
“I ate some of your supper,” she confessed as she stood. “But I mended your shirts and I shall wash and iron them if you will allow me to repay you for sleeping here.”
“You were foolish to stray so far into the woods,” the man said. Angelica saw that he was a man of perhaps thirty, not ill favoured but with a fearful scar on his right cheek. It looked inflamed and raw, as if it had been done recently. “There are many dangers here.”
“Yes, I know. I was running from someone and became lost.”
“Where do you live?” His eyes moved over her, considering thoughtful. She returned his stare with one of her one, seeing the dark tawny gold of his eyes, almost the color of topaz, and his dark hair, which he wore long, looked as if it needed cutting. “You are not of the common-folk. Your
clothes are too good and your skin too fair.”
“Nor are you, sir.” His voice, manner and clothes were not those of a poor woodsman. His shirt barely hid the rippling muscles beneath and his riding breeches fit him like a second skin. “Your shirts are fine quality, though you have been careless with them.” She blushed as she realized that she had been forward.
“Yes. I am sometimes…careless.” His tawny eyes narrowed. “Do you wish me to help you find your way home?”
“Oh, no! I must find a place to work…” she swallowed a sob. “I can never go home.”
“Come, I shall make breakfast while you tell me why a beautiful girl like you cannot go home.”
Angelica followed him back to the kitchen. The smell of porridge cooking was tempting, and a kettle was boiling on the fire. He motioned for her to sit.
“Tell me as I make the food. I have honey to sweeten the porridge.”
Angelica watched him as he worked. “My father was the prince of Lindisfarnia, but now he is dead and my Uncle rules in his stead. He has sold me to Prince Harlan—and I would rather die than wed such a monster!”
“You have heard the stories of his wild rages, then? You fear that he would harm you?”
“I don't know. I have never met him. The servants told tales and I listened.”
The man smiled oddly. “You ran away because of servants' tales?”
“Yes…” Angelica blushed. “It sounds foolish when you say it that way…but I do not want to be wed simply because of a treaty…”
“Are you certain that it was because of a treaty?”
“What else could it be?”
“Perhaps Prince Harlan had heard of your beauty and wished to marry you?”
Angelica laughed. “Why would such a man care about beauty?”