Black Wolf

Wynter found that her peace extended through the days that followed. With Shadow in her care, she was always busy. Chasing after the puppy, seeing to its needs and trying to train it. Each morning she found fresh prints around the lodge, indications that at least one large Wolf still roamed the woods, and was grateful for the warning that she had been given to spend her nights inside.

She explored the forests, growing more comfortable with the routes and paths that she tracked, away from the castle and the wall of roses. Once she strayed towards the mountain to the North and found that the creeping briars had started to spread over the ground. Curious, Wynter stood, watching the blood red roses. Sure that she could see them growing and twisting towards her. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Plants couldn’t grow so quickly?

Wynter had decided not to attend the dance in the Black Wolf tavern, but collected a brace of rabbits and the haunch of a deer on the morning before it was due to take place. She’d seen Gaz and he had offered her a good amount of coin for bringing in extra meat before the party. She’d spent very little of the money she was able to earn, hiding it away, ready for the day that she’d need to leave Whire behind.

But carrying more through the forest, meant that she moved more slowly. Shadow bounded in front of her, before his short legs were tired. She collected the puppy, tucking him into the sling across her chest. He huffed, tail wagging with delight before curling up to sleep. Adding to her burdens.

She arrived later at the village than she’d expected, well into the afternoon. Stepping into the tavern was like being hit by a wall of noise. Every table was filled, laughter filled the air along with the scent of ale. The fire was out, but the room was hot from the mass of bodies. Shadow whined from his sling, before yowling.

The nearest patrons turned toward her, and she strode froward, ignoring them with her eyes set on Gaz. He looked across from serving an older man, with a long white beard and moustaches and a bald head. Gaz nodded, and slid a tray of drinks to the patron before looking her over, taking in the sacks that she carried and the slight harried look in her eyes.

He beckoned her through into the kitchen, and grateful to be out of the bustling crowd, Wynter followed.

‘I’ve never seen it so busy,’ she peered back at the busy tavern before the kitchen door shut. The fire was roaring, the kitchen uncomfortably warm with large pots and pans spread over every surface.

‘You’ve only been twice before,’ Gaz teased, ‘and always early in the morning. Late today?’

‘They’re heavy,’ she set down the goods she had to offer before stepping back. ‘It took me longer to walk down to the village.’

‘Lore?’ Gaz called and a woman seemed to pop up from the middle of the kitchen. She had a blue bandana over her hair, holding the black and grey strands back from her face. She had a thin, pointed face and a scowl as she looked at Gaz.

‘I’m busy!’ She snapped.

‘Did you need more coneys?’ Gaz gestured to the sack on the floor. Lore wrinkled her nose, slamming down pots and pans as she shuffled thema round her workspace. The clattering sound lifting all the hairs on the back of her arms and neck. Malachi had enjoyed making noise, venting his frustration.

When would she stop reacting to those sounds? When would they stop having a hold over her? She took a step back in retreat as Lore advanced, wicked knife in hand.

‘There’a a haunch as well,’ Wynter added quickly.

Lore looked up with narrowed eyes before inspecting the two sacks, then giving a curt nod to Gaz, ‘we need it,’ she agreed before straightening up.

‘You’re new to Whire?’

‘I’m Bella,’ Wynter lied with growing ease, ‘I’ve taken one of the empty hunting lodges.’

‘You’re a brave girl,’ Lore scowled, ‘does the Prince know you’re on his territory.’

‘He arranged it,’ Wynter tried to summon a smile, but there was a squirming against her chest before two small paws popped out of the sling. Lore stared at the puppy before looking up at Wynter then back down at Shadow.

‘Oooooh,’ the fierce facade of the Tavern’s cook melted as the woman set her knife aside and held out her hands to the puppy, ‘may I?’ She begged and looked at least a decade younger.

Before Wynter could answer, Shadow had already scrambled up, out of the sling and dived into the woman’s hands, licking them as he yipped with excitement. Traitor thought Wynter, but she was relieved that some of the tension had eased from the kitchen.

‘Come on,’ Gaz reached out, touching her shoulder. It was an innocent enough gesture, but Wynter froze. She didn’t like to be touched, she took in a slow breath. Another fear that lingered after Malachi. Gaz paused as well, dropping his hand back down to his side.

‘Let’s get your payment? Then you can come and collect your little speck of Soot.’

‘Shadow,’ Wynter explained, struggling to find her tongue. Her heart was racing, ‘he’s called Shadow.’

Gaz rolled his eyes and vanished out of the kitchen. Wynter stood, watching Lore coo over the puppy who was delighted to be given half a dozen scraps of a cooked chicken that had been set to one side. Lore cradled him in her hand, moving around the kitchen with effortless ease, shifting pots with one hand, adding spiced and herbs to a soup as she passed.

The woman maintained control over her kitchen like a general, she never stopped moving and it was clear that her thoughts were racing ahead. Yet she had all the time and gentleness to devote to the puppy.

Gaz returned and set out a handful of coins on the only empty space that he could find. ‘Enough?’ He lifted a brow and Wynter scooped them into her hand without taking the time to count them. Everything helped. Then Gaz set down a key on the work bench and Wynter stared at the heavy lump of twisted iron. She looked up at the man, wary.

‘It’s too late for you to leave now,’ Gaz folded his arms across his barrelled chest, ‘it’ll be dark long before you get back to your Lodge.’

Wynter grimaced, turning to peer out of the nearest window. They were all thrown open, trying to tempt the smallest breeze into the inferno that was a busy kitchen in full swing. There was shouting beyond the door and Gaz shifted his weight. ‘I don’t have all day, you staying, or you risking your life to try and run back home?’

She took up the key, reluctant. He was right, even beyond the window she could see the first touch of dusk in the air. There was a softness to the light with the sun starting to slip away from the sky.

‘I didn’t intend to come to the dance,’ she muttered.

‘Then don’t,’ Gaz shrugged, ‘drop off your things in your room, then help out Lore in the kitchens?’

Lore looked back then, ‘are you any good in the kitchen?’

‘Anyone can chop an onion,’ Gaz retorted and another shout came from behind the tavern door, ‘they’re getting impatient,’ he paused and lent around the door, yelling into the room beyond, ‘Willow you either wait or you go without!’ He shouted, but held the door mid way, ready to step through.

Lore didn’t look impressed but she looked at Wynter again, ‘maybe,’ she muttered. ‘Our usual girl is out today,’ she huffed, ‘if you’re willing to work, then you can help.’

‘Last room, top floor,’ Gaz instructed and pointed to Wynter’s sword and bow, ‘and you might want to lose a few layers, or you’re going to melt in the kitchen.’

Wynter nodded quickly, it was already sweltering. Gaz vanished and Lore set Shadow down. The puppy ran over to her, circling her feet. This wasn’t what she’d planned, but there had been no sign of Malachi or his men. What was the worst that could happen, if she stayed out of sight before slipping away in the morning?