was higher in
the sky now, and the frost was beginning
to melt from the bare branches of the trees
and the edges of the dried leaves beneath
their feet.
“How often do you go to Sarbough?”
Maralee asked Nash.
“Usually only once a month.”
“On the night of the full moon?”
He paused briefly before continuing
forward. “That’s right.”
“You don’t kill them, do you?” she
asked.
“What?” His hand moved to Carsha’s
shoulder and tugged her closer.
“The Wolves. Do you just frighten
them away, or what? You seem to think of
them as your friends. I mean they swarm
around your village unhindered.”
Carsha glanced back at her, eyes wide
with wonder. “I thought she didn’t know,”
she whispered.
Nash scooped Carsha up into his arms
and tossed her skywards. She giggled,
clinging to her small bundle of furs, and
Nash caught her again with one arm.
“Now is not the time to talk about
that,” he said to Maralee, before tossing
his niece into the air again.
Assuming he didn’t want to frighten
the girl with talk of Wolves, Maralee held
her questions for another time. Strangely,
when she was alone with him, she
couldn’t muster a logical question at all. It
was only when he wasn’t distractingly
close that her mind was able to function in
a coherent state.
“I could carry that for you,” she
offered, as Nash caught Carsha with his
free arm again.
She had meant his bundle of furs and
buckskin, but he handed the young girl to
her instead. “She does get heavy.”
Carsha wrapped her arms hesitantly
around Maralee’s neck and then after a
moment, buried her small face against her
neck. “You smell good today,” the girl
told her. “You smell like Uncle Nash.”
Maralee glanced at Nash. He was
smiling to himself as they continued down
the indiscernible path to Sarbough. When
they reached the edge of the village,
Maralee set Carsha back to her feet.
Before she straightened again, a posse of
men surrounded Nash. They raised
weapons menacingly in his direction.
CHAPTER 11
“Uncle Nash!” Carsha screamed, running
towards Nash with no concern for her
safety.
“Carsha, stay where you are,” Nash
ordered, before turning his attention to the
group of armed men. He had the look of a
cornered wolf, ready to fight for his life,
unarmed, if necessary. Carsha stopped
abruptly, but Maralee burst through the
crowd.
“What is the meaning of this?” she
asked angrily. She shoved several startled
men aside as she moved to stand beside
Nash.
“Miss Decatur, we thought you were
dead…or worse,” the innkeeper said.
“This is the missing young woman?” a
man gripping a scythe asked the innkeeper.
“That’s her,” the innkeeper agreed,
lowering his ax.
“She doesn’t look like she’s been
harmed in any way,” another man said. He
looked her over carefully.
Maralee was glad her cloak hid the
bloodstain on her shoulder.
“I’m perfectly safe,” Maralee assured
them. “I got lost in the forest and this man
directed me back here.”
“You would be smart to stay out of the
forest, Miss Decatur. It isn’t safe,” the
innkeeper said.
Many of the men in the group began to
return to their homes. “That was a bust,”
one of them commented.
“Nothing exciting ever happens around
here,” said another.
“She’s safe as long as she’s with me,”
Nash told the innkeeper. He continued to
give off the dangerous aura Maralee had
witnessed a few times the day before.
“Uncle
Nash?”
Carsha
said
uncertainly, glancing around at the few
men who were still standing by with their
improvised weapons.
“Everything’s fine,” Maralee assured
her. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”
Carsha sidled over to Nash and put her
tiny hand in his. He gave her a reassuring
smile and she huddled against his leg.
Maralee turned her attention to the
innkeeper then. “Are you serving breakfast
this morning?” she asked.
the sky now, and the frost was beginning
to melt from the bare branches of the trees
and the edges of the dried leaves beneath
their feet.
“How often do you go to Sarbough?”
Maralee asked Nash.
“Usually only once a month.”
“On the night of the full moon?”
He paused briefly before continuing
forward. “That’s right.”
“You don’t kill them, do you?” she
asked.
“What?” His hand moved to Carsha’s
shoulder and tugged her closer.
“The Wolves. Do you just frighten
them away, or what? You seem to think of
them as your friends. I mean they swarm
around your village unhindered.”
Carsha glanced back at her, eyes wide
with wonder. “I thought she didn’t know,”
she whispered.
Nash scooped Carsha up into his arms
and tossed her skywards. She giggled,
clinging to her small bundle of furs, and
Nash caught her again with one arm.
“Now is not the time to talk about
that,” he said to Maralee, before tossing
his niece into the air again.
Assuming he didn’t want to frighten
the girl with talk of Wolves, Maralee held
her questions for another time. Strangely,
when she was alone with him, she
couldn’t muster a logical question at all. It
was only when he wasn’t distractingly
close that her mind was able to function in
a coherent state.
“I could carry that for you,” she
offered, as Nash caught Carsha with his
free arm again.
She had meant his bundle of furs and
buckskin, but he handed the young girl to
her instead. “She does get heavy.”
Carsha wrapped her arms hesitantly
around Maralee’s neck and then after a
moment, buried her small face against her
neck. “You smell good today,” the girl
told her. “You smell like Uncle Nash.”
Maralee glanced at Nash. He was
smiling to himself as they continued down
the indiscernible path to Sarbough. When
they reached the edge of the village,
Maralee set Carsha back to her feet.
Before she straightened again, a posse of
men surrounded Nash. They raised
weapons menacingly in his direction.
CHAPTER 11
“Uncle Nash!” Carsha screamed, running
towards Nash with no concern for her
safety.
“Carsha, stay where you are,” Nash
ordered, before turning his attention to the
group of armed men. He had the look of a
cornered wolf, ready to fight for his life,
unarmed, if necessary. Carsha stopped
abruptly, but Maralee burst through the
crowd.
“What is the meaning of this?” she
asked angrily. She shoved several startled
men aside as she moved to stand beside
Nash.
“Miss Decatur, we thought you were
dead…or worse,” the innkeeper said.
“This is the missing young woman?” a
man gripping a scythe asked the innkeeper.
“That’s her,” the innkeeper agreed,
lowering his ax.
“She doesn’t look like she’s been
harmed in any way,” another man said. He
looked her over carefully.
Maralee was glad her cloak hid the
bloodstain on her shoulder.
“I’m perfectly safe,” Maralee assured
them. “I got lost in the forest and this man
directed me back here.”
“You would be smart to stay out of the
forest, Miss Decatur. It isn’t safe,” the
innkeeper said.
Many of the men in the group began to
return to their homes. “That was a bust,”
one of them commented.
“Nothing exciting ever happens around
here,” said another.
“She’s safe as long as she’s with me,”
Nash told the innkeeper. He continued to
give off the dangerous aura Maralee had
witnessed a few times the day before.
“Uncle
Nash?”
Carsha
said
uncertainly, glancing around at the few
men who were still standing by with their
improvised weapons.
“Everything’s fine,” Maralee assured
her. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”
Carsha sidled over to Nash and put her
tiny hand in his. He gave her a reassuring
smile and she huddled against his leg.
Maralee turned her attention to the
innkeeper then. “Are you serving breakfast
this morning?” she asked.
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