Chapter 36 The Eastern Forest
As Oscar and Abélie went deeper in the forest, they pressed on, off the path. Oscar observed their surroundings, alert. Beside him, Abélie was taking very small steps. She had been holding her breath since they had left the town.
Yet it had to be said that the forest was perfectly ordinary for the time being — if one overlooked its unsettling quality.
Once they judged themselves far enough from the guards, they stopped near a large tree.
“Right…”
Oscar pulled out a map of the forest. Even if it was probably out of date, it was better than ending up lost, goodness knows where.
“For tonight, we only need to explore this southwestern section here,” he said, tilting the map toward one of the few moonbeams filtering through the trees so that she could see.
“That’s exactly what I feared — you intend to come back to this forest several times,” she despaired.
Oscar offered her a compassionate, though serious, look.
“Of course. We’re looking for answers here, and it would do us well to find them.”
Abélie nodded, dejected, and they set off.
The forest was far from sinister. Muddy, cold, dark, perhaps. But in return, it smelt of conifers and petrichor. It was a reassuring scent in this unknown place.
Oscar did not truly know what they were looking for. Nor did he know whether the answers they were so desperately trying to find lay somewhere in the vicinity. The past few days had been more than uncertain, and he felt lost, lost concerning his role and lost concerning himself. Where he should have felt anger, he felt only a deep sense of anguish and melancholy.
He shook his head, hoping to chase away his thoughts, but it had to be said that the silence of the forest was doing him no favours.
Abélie was swinging the torch the way a reckless person might brandish a sword, and Oscar was careful to keep a few steps between them.
“This forest is very quiet, my Lord.”
“What do you expect from a forest at this hour of the night exactly? A concert of animals?”
The girl took a moment to think about it.
“It’s true that nocturnal animals aren’t known for being particularly noisy… And yet, I had hoped to have the company of an owl or whatever animal.”
“We shall have to make do with the silence of the moon.”
Oscar said this to be poetic, but even the torch failed to pierce the darkness lurking among the thick branches of the trees. They were utterly alone.
“I’ve been thinking — I don’t understand how the people of Mulberry keep their distance from the forest,” the majordomo thought aloud.
“What is it you don’t understand? I think the guards are quite discouraging enough,” he retorted, stepping over a large root.
“Well, yes, granted, but the residents of Mulberry should have found it strange that, suddenly, the Duchess forbade access to the entire forest. The brigands didn’t appear with the duchess, did they?”
Oscar scratched his chin doubtfully.
“You’re right, and I would add even that… according to what you’ve said, they disappeared.”
She simply nodded before continuing her train of thought a few moments later.
“Either the people of Mulberry are the most docile inhabitants in the world, or they have a very good reason not to enter this forest.”
“Go on?”
“If they encountered real brigands, or if some truly suffered at the hands of brigands, for instance?” Abélie tilted her head. “Unless the entire town is lying?”
Oscar shook his head.
“Unlikely, and what reason would drive an entire town — the duchess included — to lie about a whole forest? No, that seems impossible to me.”
The young majordomo nodded vigorously.
“It seems that way to me, too, so there may be real brigands in this forest. And brigands stubborn enough to force an entire town to keep quiet.”
In the torchlight, the majordomo’s face was slightly distorted. It was almost frightening.
“But why would such brigands not cross into the town?”
“I know no more than you do, and that is what worries me.”
In the distance, an owl let out a discordant hoot. Abélie, who minutes earlier would have found it reassuring, slightly jumped, startled.
The conversation had cast a chill — or perhaps it was the actual temperature of the surroundings, for before long Oscar, hardy as he was, was shivering, as was his companion.
He stopped; Abélie followed suit almost immediately, casting him an anxious look.
“Young Master?”
He gestured for her to be silent and listened.
Only the sound of the wind brushed against the trees. No sound betrayed any living creatures nearby, and yet…
“There is something close to us,” he said, as though it were an offhand remark.
If the girl wished to appear brave, she swallowed nonetheless.
“W-what do you mean?”
Oscar did not answer and simply continued to strain his ears.
After very, very long minutes, a sound came from the undergrowth. Something was dragging itself.
They froze, tense.
After a few seconds, the sound repeated, closer, as though somewhere, something was moving very, very slowly. And that something was moving toward them.
Oscar’s muscles had tensed. Without knowing what awaited them, he had instinctively drawn closer to Abélie, the hilt of his sword in hand, ready to be drawn.
The sound repeated once more, just as slowly. If it was truly advancing, it did not seem to be in any hurry.
“Perhaps we should leave?” the majordomo whispered, grabbing Oscar’s sleeve.
“Leave, but where to? Besides, it’s not certain that whatever is approaching has heard us.”
“Ah, so we stay exactly where we are so as not to draw it in?” she said wryly. Evidently, this solution did not suit her at all. “An animal?”
“No, it’s difficult to say—it seems to be on two legs and no heavier than a man.”
“A man, then.”
“Why would a man be moving so slowly?”
Abélie shook her head, tense.
“I don’t know.”
It seemed senseless to him, too, and yet he kept the blade of his sword in his hand.