Ravenwild: Book 01 - Ravenwild (25 page)

“Okay,” he beamed, “You shall have a nice hot bath in a few minutes, while I make us some dinner. You may have fish, fresh caught of course, with a wild onion sauce, served over wild rice. Or ham, warmed or cold, served with a wild strawberry sauce, again, over rice. Or I believe we have some left over rabbit. Silver caught it herself, and I could warm that up too. Take your pick.”

She noted with some surprise that Silver clearly glowed with pride. “I think I would prefer the rabbit, kind sir. Not that the fish doesn’t sound delightful, but I think I would prefer to sink my teeth into some meat, having not eaten for a while.”

“Warm or cold?” he smiled.

Her face took on a slight look of embarrassment, and she blushed. “Warm?” she asked in a meek voice, “If it is not too much trouble.”

“None,” he proclaimed. “Please. Don't be silly. Now, it’s off to the tub with you, but first let me get you some clean clothes. I’m sorry to say I don’t have much in your size, but let me see.”

He went in the door to the bedroom and reappeared moments later with an armload of clothes, all slightly too large for his unexpected guest. There was a pair of pants, an undershirt, and a top shirt. All were colored a soft brown and made of a cotton-like material. The stitch work was extraordinary.

She noticed it immediately and commented, “Where did you ever get these? They’re beautiful.” She held them up to her nose and gave a large sniff. They were as soft as could be and smelled fresh, like the outdoors.

“Thank you,” he replied. “I, I made them of course. I made everything you see here. But that’s all for later. Let’s get you clean. Here,” he said, picking up the dish of fruits and nuts, “Take your appetizer. There’s a large mug of fresh, cold water beside the tub. Go now. Silver will be right with you. It will be perfectly safe.”

He shooed her out the door and leaned back against the countertop, which groaned in protest. This was all too hard for him to comprehend. Alone in the woods for years and years with nobody for company and a princess descends out of the air who is not only beautiful beyond belief, but nice to him. Nobody had ever been nice to him. He had been totally spurned by all with whom he had come in contact, for the crime of being ugly, for his entire childhood. No one had ever extended him even a bit of human kindness, as if by being unsightly he might have been inclined to bite them or something.

So now, with all of the excitement that is felt by a high school freshman on his first real date with the most beautiful girl in the school, he went about the preparation of a meal for his guest.

He suddenly realized that he had left the fish right outside the front door, and the last thing he wanted right about now was the huge mess that would result were a cave-coon or morning-pine to come by to help himself, so he dashed out front and picked them up. The kitchen was now in some disarray from the hasty preparation of the meal. He decided to clean them out front. Whistling, he gutted them all, then removed the heads. He walked over to one of the birches and cut off a large piece of the bark in which he wrapped the entrails. Still whistling, he walked back into the kitchen, flipped the rabbit steaks browning in the pan, stirred the vegetables, and peeked out the window at Diana. He smiled when he noticed her chatting up a storm with Silver. Then he dashed out the front door again, walked about twenty yards into the woods, and buried the birch bark with its contents. Having completed this chore he walked back to the house, through the front door, and back into the kitchen.

His heart skipped a beat when he looked out the window and the tub was empty.

He called out for them.

“In here,” she called back cheerily from behind the bedroom door. Silver gave a quick snuff to let him know that she had not left her side.

He finished up the cooking, set the food on the table, and arranged everything just so. Still she did not appear. He called out again. “Everything okay in there?”

This time she didn’t answer. In some consternation, he gently pushed the door open.

She stood with her mouth slightly open and partly covered with her left hand. She was staring at his books, her face awestruck. He might as well have not even been there. This is how absorbed she was by the sight in front of her.

He cleared his throat.

It took her a brief moment, but she slowly turned to him. From the look on her face she might have just looked into the face of the Old One himself.

“What are
these
?” she asked softly, waving at the tomes on the wall in front of her.

He laughed softly. “Well,” he scratched his head, “My father called them books. He collected them. In fact, he dedicated his entire life to collecting them. They contain writings, you see. Writings, as you probably know, are nothing more than the words that we speak written down using symbols, letters they are called, to represent the sounds that make up the words. And the only difference between books, and the limited writings done by the military, the government, and a very few others, is that they are bound.” He picked one up. “See, this is called the cover, or binder. Have you never heard of them?”

She didn’t answer him right away, but rather turned back to stare at them, her face again spellbound.

“Yes. I have. But I never believed them to be real. I thought they were like a fairytale told to make children happy. To make us smile.”

He laughed again, “Well, believe it or not, I have a book that contains nothing
but
fairytales. It’s one of my favorites.”

“So you know how to … read?”

She sounded so cute, like a little girl, that he momentarily forgot his manners and took her in his arms, giving her a big hug. To his surprise and delight, she hugged him back and they laughed like children.

“Well, yes … I do … I guess … No … yes, I do.” he stammered. “In truth,” he managed, “I read much better than I speak.”

They both laughed again.

“And could you … ?”

“Yes I could,” he finished for her, “if you like. But not now, come, our meal is getting cold and we have so much to talk about.”

And so they ate, and talked, and laughed, and ate some more, and it was the most glorious afternoon that either could ever remember. He told her honestly and unashamedly why he had left the city of Belcourt as a young man, taking with him only the clothes on his back, the family knives and axes, the mules loaded with his books, and some cookware, and she told him how she had been born into the royal family, but how the never-ending war, death, and destruction had finally robbed her of any hope she ever had for a happy life, and how she had run away as well, hoping to find a life that might give her a chance at the contentment she knew she would never find behind the Great Wall.

“Let us make each other a promise this day,” he said, holding up a beautiful carved wooden mug of spring water.

“All right,” she said, holding up hers.

“Let us vow to never have any secret between us, no matter how small, no matter how large, and to never tell the other a lie, no matter the circumstance, no matter what.”

“Agreed,” she said softly as they gazed far into each other’s eyes.

As he was clearing the table and she was commenting on the inventiveness of his continuous-flowing-water system, he noticed Silver standing in the doorway. “Hey,” he said, tossing her one of the snacks, “aren’t you supposed to be outside looking out for us?” Silver ignored the tasty morsel and shook her head towards the woods beyond the cabin.

Right away Jared knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. He motioned for Silver to go and check out the danger and turned to Diana. “Get dressed in your clothes,” he said. “Quickly. It would appear we have visitors.”

Stephanie rubbed her arms and legs, which were sore from having been bedridden for the last several days. She was sitting in a chair beside her bed. On a small table beside it was a pitcher of water and a glass, from which she had managed a few hesitant sips.

“What happened?” she asked the doctor.

“What do you remember?” he asked in return.

“I remember riding with that young boy, Prince, what was his name, oh yes, Erik, somewhere in Ravenwild, and we were attacked by a band of … Trolls.” The word rolled off her tongue as though it didn’t quite fit, as though it somehow didn’t belong. She continued, “He was in front of me, and I heard him get hit on the head. Then I must have gotten hit on the head too because everything went dark and, when I woke up yesterday, I was here. Daria, is that her name? Was stuffing some sort of horrid gruel down my throat. Oh, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. She seems very kind. I could tell by the way she fussed over me.” She stopped suddenly. A look of terror stole across her face like a thief in the night. The doctor knew she had realized what he had anticipated would most likely occur. She had amnesia. Her voice, indeed her blood, turned cold, and she felt her bowels turn to ice water. “I can’t remember anything else.”

“Nothing at all?”

She thought for a moment. “Nothing.”

“I see. Well, that is normal. You were struck very hard on the head, as you say, and I had to operate on you to relieve the pressure on your brain because you would have died otherwise. Most people who have this kind of operation experience amnesia for a while. Don’t worry. It will come back. Do you remember your name?”

She screwed up her face in concentration. “No.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to give you one, temporarily of course. Meanwhile, there is something that you must know. It will be very hard for you to believe, and probably even harder for you to accept, and I ordinarily wouldn’t go at it this soon … ” He struggled for the words to complete his thought. “Child … you are not from this world.”

She faced him with a blank look. “What does that mean?”

His answer was cut off as Daria rushed back into the tiny recovery room. “Get her back into bed! Now! He’s coming.”

Stephanie knew from the urgency in her tone of voice better than to protest. She climbed weakly towards the bed, her efforts completed by the doctor who pulled her roughly the rest of the way.

“Child, listen to me,” he whispered forcefully. “Do not speak. Do not respond to anything you are about to hear … or feel. You are in a coma. If you fail to obey these orders, we will all surely die today.”

She nodded. “Grace,” she mumbled, barely audible. “I remember someone named Grace.” Nobody heard her. The doctor was moving a bag of his medical instruments quickly out of the room. Many were sharp. Many were pincer-like. No use giving Malance Venomisis any ideas. Daria was fetching a bowl with soap, water, and towels in order to feign the cleaning that she had already received.

“Where is she
?” he bellowed. “
I want to see her. Now
.”

He moved his huge frame close to the small bed in which Stephanie lay perfectly still. Her breathing was quiet, regular.

“I have to give her credit,” thought the doctor as he reentered the room, “She has Moxie.” He too approached the bedside.

“Is she awake yet?” he snarled.

“I beg your pardon, Sire?” asked the doctor. “My Lord, it has only been a short while since you left. I have just finished my neurologic examination, and my assistant here was about to bathe her while I prepare some other tests I will be conducting. What I will most likely need to do is open her back up and wash out any residual clot … ”

“Never mind that,” he growled. “Change of plans. We will perform our little ceremony tomorrow at first light. There is a battalion of troops that is departing then, and I think it will be a nice sendoff, don’t you agree? So, my good Doctor, you have until then to wake her up. It will greatly disappoint me if you have not been able to accomplish this facile task by morning, and you know it is sometimes most unfortunate for those who disappoint me.”

He saw the fear come over the doctor’s countenance and added, “Oh, don’t worry. I need you. You are a very good medicine man. The best I could recruit. Where did I recruit you from? I can’t remember.”

He turned to leave, then turned back to face the doctor. “You have your assignment. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I will do my best, Sire.” He bowed, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Make sure you do.”

He waddled off on feet that were much too small for his disproportionately large body.