Scarlet Moon (Once Upon a Time) Page 4

  The eyes mocked him, and he hated them for that. He turned back to the first portrait with those eyes and stood before it for a long time, unmoving. Finally, in a voice hoarse with rage, he asked, “Why?”

  The portrait, as always, refused to answer.

  As Ruth sat down to dinner with her father and Peter she placed the coins from her day’s work upon the table. Her father took one look at the large amount and raised an eyebrow.

  “Something happen today at the shop?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered, helping herself to a chicken leg. “Simon the tanner didn’t want to pay for his skinning knives. He claimed the work was shoddy.”

  Her father turned three shades of red before he finally spit out, “That was some of the best work we’ve ever done!”

  “I know,” she answered around a mouthful of chicken.

  “What did you do?”

  “I hit him a couple of times before he got his guard up.”

  “Ruth, what have I told you about fighting?”

  “I know, Father, but I was safe. He didn’t touch me. It turned out he didn’t even have a chance to try. Lord William came by and ended the fight. Simon paid and left as fast as he could.”

  Her father’s face went from red to white faster than she would have dreamed possible. “The marquis’s son caught you fighting?”

  “Yes, father,” she said, dropping her eyes to her plate.

  “Did he say anything?”

  Ruth was in trouble and she knew it. Her father had always warned her about how to behave in front of nobility, when and if she ever met any. He had also told her repeatedly that if any strangers dropped by the forge while she was alone she was to tell them she was only there bringing something to her father, and that she should leave immediately and run home to get him. She took a drink of water, debating what next to say.

  “He had heard Simon and me arguing, so it was no use pretending I didn’t work there. He had come by to have one of the shoes replaced on his stallion. I did the job and told him there would be no charge since he had helped me with Simon. He left this bag of coins anyway.”

  She sat silent, watching her father as he stared off into space. “Lord William has a bad reputation, but it’s for being a fighter and a dangerous man. If he were going to make any trouble for us regarding a woman working in the shop as a blacksmith, it would have come already.”

  “I met men in Acre who knew him. They had no kind words,” Peter said quietly. “He’s dangerous. You should try to stay away from him, Ruth. You may not be so lucky next time.”

  “Yes, if you see him again, be polite but try to stay away from him, and tell me as quickly as you can,” her father instructed.

  Ruth nodded but didn’t say a word. They ate the rest of the meal in silence, and Ruth was relieved when it was time to retire for the night.

  She lay down, but sleep was a long time coming. When the darkness finally did claim her, she dreamt of William and the way his eyes shone when he laughed.

  William couldn’t sleep. He prowled the castle, thinking. He stopped again in front of the great wall and stared at the portrait of his father. At last he turned from it, weary.

  His father was off again, fighting in Jerusalem. He had come and gone often throughout the last nine years, and he had always left William home to watch the castle and guard the lands and titles. It had been a great burden his father had placed upon him, but it was nothing compared to the burden that they all shared. It was the dark secret carried by the men of the family that drove his father to return again and again to Jerusalem. Does he seek revenge or redemption? William wondered.

  He didn’t know; he and his father barely spoke even when they were both in the same room. We keep to ourselves, even when among our own kind.

  He turned and continued pacing, his stride long and loose, his hands swinging easily at his sides. His eyes probed the darkness, seeing everything, even though he didn’t need to see in the dark to move around this castle. He knew the layout so well he could walk it with his eyes closed.

  At last he moved outside, the walls of the castle no longer able to cage him. Under the stars he breathed in deeply, sucking the night air into his lungs. He threw back his head and stared up at the sky. The moon was a crescent in the darkness and he stared at it, hating it and yet unable to ignore its beauty.

  He paced slowly toward the stables, approaching them from downwind. The horses began to move restlessly, and he could smell their fear. Unable to smell him and know that it was William who approached, they were anxious, sensing only that a predator was near.

  By the time he walked inside, they were whinnying in fear and kicking the walls. He stood for a moment, watching them, before he called out gently. The horses instantly quieted upon hearing their master’s voice. He walked down the center aisle, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

  He exited the stables and continued on to a pasture beyond. The stallion the girl had shod trotted up to the fence and thrust his nose into William’s hand.

  “You don’t belong inside, penned up like the others, do you?” William asked quietly, rubbing the velvety nose. “Neither do I. That’s why we get along so well, you and I.”

  William sighed and leaned against the fence. “So, what did you think of her?”

  The horse bobbed his head up and down, making William smile. “I liked her too. I’ve never met a woman quite like her. You know, I believe she could have killed that tanner.” His smile faded as a shadow crossed his mind. “I am happy that she did not have to, though. No one should have to live with that kind of pain.”

  The stallion lipped at William’s collar, and he twisted his hand in the horse’s mane. “So, Shadow, what am I going to do about her?”

  Shadow had nothing to say about the matter, and William sighed. “If I am anything of a gentleman, I will leave her alone.”

  The stallion made a chuffing noise that sounded like laughter. “Thanks,” William said sarcastically. “At least I always know where you stand.” He pushed away from the fence, giving the horse one final pat. “Both of us should get some sleep if we can.”

  He walked slowly back inside the castle, his heart weary. The girl was better off without his interfering in her life. He was the kind of trouble she didn’t need. Knowing that didn’t make him feel any better, though, and didn’t make it any easier for him to ignore the feeling that she was someone he could really care for.

  Chapter Four

  A cold wind whipped through the shop and blew a shower of sparks about. Ruth could taste winter in the air, hard and clean. It was coming, though not yet arrived. The sun shone for fewer hours a day, and its heat did not warm as thoroughly as it had a few weeks before.

  Much had changed in Ruth’s life even as one season gave way to another. Sometimes it felt like her whole world was coming to an end. She turned her head slightly and stared at Peter from under lowered lashes. He had asked to come to the shop to help her out, but so far he had mostly sat, staring off into space. Where does he go when he’s like that? she wondered» She wanted so badly to question him about everything he had seen and done in the years he had been gone. Every time she tried to ask he just shrugged and smiled weakly at her. Why wont he talk about it? He hasn’t even told me about the battle where Stephen was killed.

  Peter’s body had begun to heal with rest and food, but his spirit still seemed wounded» Worse, there was no remedy she knew for that ailment.

  She put down her hammer for a moment and plunged the strip of hot steel that would be a sword into cold water. It hissed and steamed as it cooled.

  “I would like to go see Grandmother,” Peter said, speaking suddenly.

  Ruth jumped, surprised by the sound of his voice. “Then go. I know she is eager to see you. You’d been home three weeks and I know she is growing anxious.”

  “I know; I just wasn’t ready before. Would you go with me?” he asked.

  Of course,’ she replied, wondering why. Perhaps he is not sur
e he remembers the way, or perhaps he does not wish to walk through the woods alone.

  “We can go this evening if you like.”

  “That would be good.”

  He fell back into silence, and she returned to her work, trying to shrug off her concern for him.

  It was nearly time for the midday meal before he spoke again, “How is she?”

  “Who?” Ruth asked, again startled and momentarily confused.

  “Grandmother.”

  “She’s well, I think you’ll be surprised. She doesn’t look any older than when you left.”

  Peter nodded. “I guess that’s witchcraft for you.”

  Ruth bristled, “She’s not a witch! Peter, how can you believe such a thing?”

  “Isn’t it true?” he asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

  “It is not. She has never had anything to do with witchcraft. It is only superstition and fear that made people misunderstand her.”

  “My folks included,” Peter said, “They didn’t let me see her much.’

  I’m sorry, Peter,” Ruth said, softening. She had forgotten how narrow-minded his parents had been.

  Peter stood up and walked over closer. He leaned up against a table beside her. “So, what is she?”

  “She’s … just a person who is … interested in … studying,” Ruth said, finding herself at a loss for the words to explain.

  “Studying what?”

  “Everything—plants, animals, the stars in the sky. She’s even done some wonderful work with medicine and studying the human body.”

  “Really?” Peter asked, his voice reflecting heightened curiosity.

  “Oh yes, she makes wonderful salves for burns, cuts, all manner of things.”

  “So, she can make people better?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then she also knows what makes them sick.”

  “Yes,” Ruth answered, not entirely sure where Peter was going with his questioning.

  “I would like to learn that,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

  “She would love to teach you,” Ruth said, laying a hand on his arm. “She has taught me so much and yet there is so much left to learn.”

  “Really?” he asked, his eyes probing hers.

  “Yes.”

  “Does she teach anyone else?”

  Ruth hesitated for only a moment, her thoughts on Mary and James, before she answered. “No.”

  He smiled wanly. “Since I have come back I have found that I am in need of something on which to focus my thoughts, my energies.”

  Ruth smiled. “We will go tonight and you can speak with her about all of it. Now, I have to finish this by the end of the day or Father will be speaking to me about something.”

  Peter laughed, though the sound was empty and hollow to her ears. They shared some cheese and bread Ruth had brought from home, and then she returned to work.

  Peter fell back into silence for the rest of the day. Ruth glanced at him from time to time, wishing she could reach him. At last the day was over. They went home to say hello to Ruths father and to eat a quick meal.

  Then they set out into the woods, heading for their grandmother’s house. Ruth carried a lantern with them to ward off the gathering shadows. It would be fully dark when they returned, and they would be sorely in want of some light.

  She shivered. The woods at night was not something to be taken lightly, and her thoughts raced ahead of her, mapping out every footstep of their way. She walked several steps ahead of Peter, inexplicably not wanting to be too close to him.

  You’re being silly, she chided herself. He’s your cousin. There is nothing to fear from him.

  From overhead she heard the flapping of wings. She glanced up and saw a huge owl silhouetted briefly against the sky. It then landed on a nearby branch and stared at them with great, unblinking eyes.

  “Who, who?” the owl called.

  She was reminded yet again of the young man she had seen in the woods and how she had called the same question out after him with as little answer as she was giving to the owl.

  “Ruth,” she whispered. At least she could answer the owl. Maybe one day he would help answer her question.

  They walked quickly and soon arrived. The door was open when they reached the cabin, and Giselle was standing outside with open arms. Peter went to her after a moment of hesitation and was folded into her embrace. Ruth stood and smiled weakly, fighting back tears. I wish Stephen were here for this reunion.

  At last they all bustled inside. Candles were lit all around the room, reflecting eerily in the glass jars. The effect was that of a thousand flickering lights bathing the room in light one moment and plunging it into near darkness the next. Ruth would have found it fascinating if she were not so uneasy from the trip through the woods and her earlier conversation with Peter.

  They all sat in silence for several minutes. Peter stared around the room, taking everything in as Ruth and Giselle stared at him. Then he stood and prowled around the room, touching this and that.

  “I would like to learn what you know,” he said at last, picking up ajar of mugwort and examining it.

  Giselle glanced at Ruth, a hint of alarm in her eyes. “Why?”

  “As a child my parents forbade me to see you. They said you were a witch. They were wrong, and I regret all the time we lost and all the things you might have taught me,” He set the jar down and turned back to them, “I’ve lost everything,” he said simply. “But being here, I’m beginning to understand that my greatest loss was the years I missed knowing you.”

  With tears in her eyes Giselle rose to embrace him, “My darling child, you shall know me, and if it is within my power we shall work together to heal your wounds.”

  Ruth averted her eyes to give them a moment of privacy. As she did so she prayed that Giselle might really hold the key to Peter’s recovery.

  They ended up not leaving until the dawn. As they hurried home along the path, Ruth imagined that the trees were shaking their branches at her in anger.

  Customers kept Ruth and her father busy for the next several days repairing axes used for wood chopping, making hooks made to hang meat in storage, and taking care of other things that needed to be done before the onslaught of winter. It was a week before she could return to her grandmother’s, though she knew Peter had gone several times.

  When she entered the forest it seemed peaceful to her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually felt at home in the woods, welcomed almost. It was a strange sensation, unnerving in itself.

  She hadn’t gone very far when she heard a voice behind her. “A lady shouldn’t walk alone in the woods.”

  “Who says I’m a lady?” Ruth asked, pulling her dagger from her belt before turning.

  “I have,” William said, smiling at her.

  She returned her dagger to its resting place and relaxed her fighting posture, “Oh, it’s you again,” she said dryly, unable to stop herself.

  “Yes,” he answered, striding forward.

  She dropped her eyes quickly and hastened to curtsy, her father’s warning fresh in her mind.

  “A little formal,” he commented.

  “I’m sorry, milord, you surprised me. I was just hurrying to my grandmother’s. If you would excuse me …” She turned on her heel and started to walk off, her heart in her throat.

  “I won’t,” he said, his voice growing stern.

  She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “A dangerous maw,” that is what they called him. “Don’t chase strangers in the woods” Grandmother said. What about dangerous strangers? Surely I should avoid them above all! she thought.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, moving to stand in front of her.

  “Nothing, milord,” she lied, not daring to look at him.

  “You know I don’t wish to be so formal with you, but if you insist on being so, then I must insist that you tell me the truth. Indeed, I command that you do.”

  She lifted her head at that, not
knowing how to respond.

  His eyes bored into her and she grew uncomfortable under his stare.

  “Something is different. What is it?”

  “I was overly familiar the other day, and I apologize.”

  “Don’t, it was refreshing.” He gazed at her more closely, and his eyes narrowed. “Did someone tell you not to speak with me? Your father, perhaps?”

  She averted her eyes. “Where is your horse?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid I’m alone today.”

  “The woods are a dangerous place,” she warned. He was so close she could feel his breath.

  “Not for me,” he said in a low growl.

  The sound made her shiver. “They told me you are dangerous.”

  A strange look crossed his face and for a moment he looked in pain. “Whoever told you that was telling the truth.”

  “And I am a girl alone in the woods. If it is the truth, I would do well to heed their warnings.”

  He reached out quickly and grasped her forearm. She blanched as she felt his fingers pressing into her muscles. “If you are the same girl I met the other day, then you have little to fear from men in the woods and even less to fear from me”

  “And why is that?” she asked, unsure of his meaning.

  He smiled slowly, “Because you can take care of yourself. And because I would never consciously hurt you.”

  And what about unconsciously? she wondered, but she said nothing.

  He took a step back and let go of her arm. “Where did you say you were off to?”

  “Grandmother’s house.”

  “Then I shall escort you,” he said, offering her his arm.

  She wanted desperately to trust him, but she also wanted to try and obey her father. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” she said finally, in a last effort to avoid prolonged contact.

  “Ah, but you and I are hardly strangers, are we? Come, come, I shall be a perfect gentleman.”