The sun barely surmounted the mountains to shine golden light upon the valley when a gentle knock awoke Melari from her fitful slumber. Wrapping the heavy quilt around her, she opened the door a crack and peered out into the torch-lit hallway. Before her stood the King with a smile upon his face, looking perky as a squirrel.
"Good morning. Did I wake you? Ah, well, let us get this signed so you can head back up to your little bower in the woods." He waved a rolled scroll before her face.
Melari opened the door and gestured toward the small table with two chairs. "Care to have a seat, Your Highness?"
"Very well." He entered and she shut the door behind him. "Suppose this will the be one of the last times I get to enter a lady's bedchamber while unmarried." Taking a seat at the little table, King Valair unfurled one of the scrolls in his hands.
Somehow Melari stifled the deep sigh she felt welling forth. "To each there own when it comes to cheap thrills."
"Ah, this here isn't a cheap thrill, nor does it require your signature. This is the patent to return your family title and lands. I'm also including a nearby estate and it's incomes as interest for the harm done to the Earls of Mynith by the prior king. You are the Countess of Mynith, and your title and estates may go to any legitimate acknowledged biological heir of either sex. Your line must not die out now that its been reestablished."
Her jaw dropped. While the king had mentioned it last night, little did Melari think he would actually go through with the restitution, let alone an additional estate. Words were easy to use as a weapon of coercion, not that the Witch of the Woods can disobey a direct order of the King.
All those years of scraping by a living to help her parents... those years of drudgery and physical labor and washing the linens of others... it felt like a character building exercise. As Witch of the Woods, hard work is vital. Having an aristocratic title does nothing to remove that reality. The king handed the scroll to her.
The King then unrolled the other scroll. "This is our contract. You will heal and otherwise prevent the Duke of Kirleen from impeding my nuptials, and you are pardoned for whatever methods must be used. I am also sending carrier pigeons up with you in the supplies. If the Duke gets any urge to kill, maim, flee down the mountain, or otherwise give me a headache, you will let me know as soon as possible. I told the Duke to keep an eye on the mountains and to report any movement of troops. He will assume the pigeons are for that."
"If the sacred forest doesn't accept him, then it will be very dangerous for him to roam freely. All hunting must be done lower on the mountain. The cliff-side trail is a divine boundary marker. Any hunting of the animals above that boundary will result in divine retribution. I cannot protect him from divine judgment should he step on the wrong toes."
"Well, make sure to tell him that up on your return ride. The Duke is terse and sometimes unintentionally hurtful. But he is a good man. He is there to protect you while you work on helping him tame his demons." King Valair reached out and took hold of Melari's hand, turning it over and observing the hand covered in blisters atop old calluses. "I see you aren't afraid of hard labor but leave the heavy work to him. A maiden's hands shouldn't be so rough."
"As you wish, my liege." Breathing deep, Melari sought to calm her beating heart from the way the King spoke.
"If you are pleased with the terms, just sign the bottom. I brought two copies, so you can have one as well."
She read the terms, halting to ask, "What is this about remuneration for lewd acts?"
The King settled his gaze upon her and smiled like a cat eyeing a mouse. "If the Duke does anything inappropriate, he will have to make it up to you, fiscally. If one wants to hit him where it hurts, the wallet is an easy mark." He paused. "But if he gets out of hand and brutish, again, let me know as soon as possible via carrier pigeon. I don't think it will be an issue, however. He disdains women as a whole."
Oh, how lovely, to be snowed in for Gods know how long with someone who hates women. What a thrill. "Well, that's good to know." Syrup of Lettuce and a hint of golden poppy... maybe he can emulate a bear and sleep the winter through.
"I'm sure you can concoct a potion to keep him mellow and biddable. Or asleep."
Melari tried stifling the grin of the King saying what she thought. "If I'm successful, I will let you know. What is this about the estate of Myryn being a dowry? I thought I specified no husband." Anger began to simmer. If she learned anything, is that a husband's wants supersedes the wife, even if she counsels wisdom. That's how her parents lost the estate and title in the first place. No. No husband, no dowry, no headache.
"You did, but upon reflection, it's a shame to grant you the title and lands and you do nothing with them, allowing them to die out for good. Myryn abuts an estate of an eligible bachelor who has been looking to acquire the lands for himself. Alas, now he must think of a different way to gain it, if he truly wants it."
"I will not marry. I cannot serve two masters, and the forest wins."
"It may, for now. But you will beget an heir and you will leave your holdings to them, whomever they may be, son or daughter. Do not let your family die out. This is an order, not a request."
Melari gritted her teeth. The King can't force her to to fall head over heels for someone. "I can't agree to that, my lord. If I beget any child, it'll be on the wrong side of the blanket, like my grandmother did my mother."
"Your grandmother chose a nobleman to seed her, my lady. If that's what you choose, so be it. However, do not regret it if the father claims his child and you never see them again. Think carefully of what the repercussions would be. If, however, that is what you choose, then so be it. For the benefit of the land, I will not interfere with the working of the Witch of the Woods. But I dare make demands to the Countess of Mynith."
With a deep sigh, she signed the two copies of the contract with a flourish, as did the King.
"I thank you for your service to the Crown, my lady. May I ask a personal question?"
The hackles on the back of Melari's neck raised. "If you wish."
"I've been tracking you and your family for years. Do you hold any resentment for how things turned out for you? To have lived a life of hard labor instead of ease?"
With a deep breath, she answered. "Well then, as you know, I spent three years doing laundry and trying to make ends meet when my parent's couldn't. I'm grateful I had Grandmother Ninii to fall back upon when my parents died, and that time scouring sheets helped me be ready for the task of Witchery in the woods. Had I grown up pampered, it would be miserable having to unlearn civility and make do with one's own effort."
He smiled. "Silver linings are good. You will attend the May Day Ball next year. Indulge me one ball, as the Countess of Mynith."
"What if the Duke isn't ready? I cannot leave him in the forest unattended."
"Well, we'll just let the dice roll on that one. If there is no improvement and he sees red whenever he spots a Clendellan flag, then keep him isolated at all costs. If he's improved, he may escort you to the ball."
"As you wish." Melari had no intention of attending a ball and making an ass of herself. Bleaching linens with caustic lye were her lessons, not ballroom dancing.
The King stood and gave a short bow of courtesy. "I have faith in you, Madam. Ready yourself for travel. The Duke wishes to leave before the sun gets too high in the sky." With that, he left the chamber, taking a copy of the contract with him.
Melari looked at the scroll, certifying her rights as Countess of Mynith. T'was a shame Father wasn't alive to see it happen. Then with a frown, she realized it never would have happened had she not become Witch of the Woods, as it was but a bargaining chip to by her compliance. She tucked the scrolls into her herb chest and dressed. It wasn't long before a maidservant brought her something to eat. Melari barely finished her porridge when a firm knock sounded on her door. Opening it brought a sense of deja vu, as the Duke of Kirleen glowered down at her, a short stack of books cradled in his arm.
"Are you ready to depart, Lady Gaylen?"
"I am. Shall we have a footman bring out my chest of herbs?"
"Your chest will be brought up with the pack horses. It's a five hour ride, so let's get started."
"As you wish." With all the grace she possessed, she swept out the chamber and down the hall.
Terran cleared his throat. "This way, Countess."
Melari stopped mid-step, whirled, and strode in the opposite direction. The Duke caught up to her.
"I hope you don't mind sharing a horse once again."
The way he said it made her think he was trying to provoke a reaction. "Why would I mind efficiency, my lord?" She turned and smiled at him. There is no way she'd let him worm his way under her skin.
Following him out to the courtyard, his gelding awaited, saddled and laden with a satchel, which the Duke stashed the books he carried. Once again, he lifted her into the saddle and climbed up behind her, before turning the horse to stride down the cobblestone lane and out to the earthen high road. After a short silence, Terran spoke.
"Tell me what the king has asked of you. I wish to be on the same page." Tried as she might, the scent of his soap surrounded her. Clove and sandalwood. An unexpected combination, but very lovely to her nose.
"Very well. I am to cure you of your manly time of the month."
That brought an awkward silence. "That's it?"
"And to make sure you are not on the warpath, seeing red, or otherwise agitated."
The Duke harrumphed. "He labors under the assumption that babysitting you for the winter isn't agitating."
"Likewise. I have enough to do without having to drug you into compliance so you don't ruin His Majesty's nuptial festivities."
It wasn't quite a growl. "That's a fancy way of saying cavorting with the enemy."
"Tell me of the symptoms you suffer. Perhaps I can find a posset that works and you can be on your merry way."
"My symptoms? I want to see that which I view as my enemy bleed and die. I don't want their taint befouling the very air me and mine must breathe."
"So homicidal tendencies. Lovely. Anything else?" Oh yes, ample poppy will be required.
"I'm not actually going to kill them... but if a falling star were to take them out for me, I would sing it's praises to my dying day."
"Is it related to the war?"
The Duke paused. "In part. The other part is because humanity is cruel and vengeful, and I find myself very human at times."
"I've been tasked to heal you, my lord, but I am not sure how one goes about healing such wounds."
"There are some wounds, Countess, that cannot be healed, no matter the intention and effort. Some cuts are too deep to heal properly, and instead fester."
Terran turned his horse to the trail leading up into the mountains. Valley gave way to sparsely forested hills.
"What was the cut that makes you fester, my lord? Perhaps such a wound must be debrided in order to heal."
They rode along in silence for a good five minutes before he spoke. His hands tighten on the reins as the words poured forth with a tinge of pain coloring them. "At the beginning of the war, did you ever hear of the Rampage of Kirleesan?"
"Only that is was a massacre of innocents, which is why Grizellen went to war."
"My younger sister was shopping at the dressmaker for her debutante ball when the first wave of soldiers and mercenaries rode through the city, killing and capturing all they came across. And for the females who were young and pretty... their fate horrific. They stripped my sister and others like her, paraded them through the town and then sold them to the soldiers. They had to be defiled on the auction stage. That, Countess, is why I simmer with rage whenever those who permitted such atrocities to happen get mentioned. It's why I despise the fact my cousin seeks peace with those who ordered the defiling of innocents, including his own family. Its why I want them gone, not even defiled... just gone from this earth."
Melari was not expecting that. It's death by a thousand tiny cuts to the mind. Not an easy fix by any means. "My apologies for asking, my lord. I can see and understand your anger and pain. What is the manly time of month thing?"
"A bloodlust of sorts. Remnant of a curse laid upon me by a Clendellan mage." Another long moment of silence before he spoke tersely. "What is your treatment plan for me?"
Melari shrugged. "I have research to do before I will consider a treatment. I must learn about the curse if it is to be lifted. What afflicts you isn't something that can be easily cured, and I suspect the King knows this and seeks to buy time before he will face you. Curious, though. The King said you disdain women."
"I do. Grasping, greedy wenches churn my stomach. Those who know their place and act accordingly, I don't mind so much."
"Don't blame you." Expectations are a cruel assumed reality. It was a harsh lesson to learn at first, that the daughter of an Earl must now earn her keep. Without skill in sewing or embroidery, there was but one place for her: scullery. And when that didn't work out, she was sent to the laundry.
"That's rich, coming from you, laundress-turned-Countess."
Unwilling to let him have last word, she replied. "I'm the Witch of the Woods, and that's much more important than being a Countess and the headache that accompanies. I don't want a husband, and I don't see me having heirs. One day I'll have to take an apprentice and that'll be family that I can choose rather than the family I was born with. Every other expectation levered my way can go bugger off for all I care."
"I have your guarantee that you won't try to be a hussy and use wiles on me?" He...he was serious? Stifling her laughter at such a request, she answered him with the same measure of seriousness he used.
"I have no intention of being a hussy and I don't know what my wiles are, let alone how to use them. You're safe from me. Just get better, go away and leave me be."
"Duly noted."
"You should also note that you cannot hunt anything past the cliff-side trail. Below the trail is fine, but the forest will not forget if any of its denizens are wounded within the sacred space. Consider yourself warned."
"Is it true, then? That the forest is alive?"
"Of course it's alive. But the Fair Folk tend to shapeshift, and if they get mistaken for prey, their clan will hunt yours to extinction. This is a promise of the Old Ones."
"Is it true that the Witch of the Woods dances naked under the moonlight?"
"Only on certain days of the year and never for very long. Too cold, I'm afraid."
"Why?"
"To show the Old Ones that I, the intermediary of Man, bear no weapons or harm to them. Attending the rites and customs of the forest is what keeps everyone in the valley safe." The Fair Folk were sticklers for detail and adherence to the ancient customs. It didn't take much to anger them, and just to be on the safe side even the cottage is warded with salt and iron to keep them from straying too close.
"You sure it's not an excuse to run naked through the woods?'
"Pretty sure. I'll make sure to tell you ahead of time so you can cover your eyes lest I corrupt you with my nudity." The sarcasm oozed from Melari's words. Only two months ago, she watched her Grandmother carry out the rite of dancing within the stone circle, spiraling three times around the bonfire burning in the center. Each spiral danced brought forth from the darkness, a crowd of ethereal beings who bore witness to the rite.
Before that night, Melari didn't believe in spirits. After that night, she became very mindful that even if she couldn't see them, they were there, watching. Always watching.
"Much appreciated." He returned the sarcasm to her with a smile.
"There's a salt circle around the cottage. Make sure you are within the circle by moonrise. Denizens of the forest tolerate people during the day, but once the moon is up, become incredibly territorial."
"That must be why the trees attacked me when I went to fetch you."
"You were attacked? And yet dare to ask if the forest is alive?"
"Yes. Trees pulled me from my horse and tried to throw me over the cliff. Thankfully my horse is well trained, didn't get spooked and run off to Gods know where."
"If that's the case, next time, just wait for daylight. I will not be responsible for keeping you safe every time you wander into the forest."
"You think you must do so?"
Melari turned in the saddle to look him in the eye. "You think trees trying to chuck you off the cliff is the worst that can happen? The direwolves would be picking their teeth with your rib bones, my lord. Or the Fair Folk flay you for stepping into their land. Perhaps the selkies in the river would leave you be, but probably not. There's may odd things in that forest and most of them really hate Man. Woman is somewhat tolerated, but Man? Doomed by association. Consider yourself warned."
"Swell. Can't wait to inform my dear cousin, the King, in great detail of this adventure he forced upon me. He said to commune in nature. Never realized he hated me that much to send me to my death."
"He probably doesn't know. If you're getting any remuneration for your assignment, then I hope you get a bonus for being denied fully informed consent."
"I'm fairly sure his concern is about smoothing the way for his beastly bride to make her way unimpeded to his side. As I was the one who sounded the horn of war, it's bad taste for me to be glaring at the enemy as they ."
"You have your reasons for feeling the way you do. But I also can't fault the King for wishing you to recuperate."
"Is it recuperation or is it exile?"
"I suppose that's up to you, my lord, and how you choose to look at things. As Witch of the Woods, I promise to do my best to get you fit for court as soon as I can. For the most part, I plan to leave you be and give you space."
"Likewise, Countess. You do what you're supposed to do and I will grin and bear it." The Duke sounded somber. "I will do what I must to escape this exile."'
"Don't sound too excited. The King said if you were fit, then you must escort me to the May Day Ball. So, if you don't mind, I'd prefer that not even be an option."
Her words provoked his curiosity. "Why is that? Too good a person to be escorted by the King's own cousin?"
"Arrogant much? What makes you think my reticence is because of you and not my damn blasted ignorance of high society and activities like dancing? Think I want to make an ass of myself? Yes, I may be an upstart countess, but I have my dignity, dammit."
"You have a foul mouth for a lady."
"As you reminded me, I haven't been a lady for very long, so to expect perfect ladylike behavior is to set oneself up for failure. I am no lady, my lord. Best you remember first and foremost, I am a witch."