UnSeelie Nights Chapter One Page 1

Breton Region
Rennes
France 1356


  Anne lay gasping her last breaths.  She wove her small hand into the forest foliage as she allowed her mind to wander over the wreckage of the day.  An owl hooted just above her head, the cry comforting in a small way.    Her body ached all over and the fever had caught her.   

  She struggled to rise amid the forest floor but sank weakly back down again.  Anne did not want to die like this.  Alone and frightened, she wished her mother was still alive; she wished for the peaceful times when it was just the two of them in their cottage.  But that had changed when the soldiers had come bringing the black death with them.    Now her mother was dead and she had nothing. 

  The cool night caused the fever within her to turn to chills.  Anne’s teeth chattered as she curled into a fetal position.    Tears poured down her cheeks and seeped into the ground below.  A wet nose touched her, nudging at her.  Anne was peeked at the reddish dappled wolf frozen with fear and then she relaxed.    She lay still remembering the stories her mother had told her about the enchanted forest.    Do not rely on first impressions, she would tell the girl. 

  It nuzzled her gently, licking her face and lay next to her.      Anne moved closer to the animal, burrowing her face into the coarse fur that did not smell of dirt but of sweet earth.  She closed her eyes as her adolescent body convulsed.    Her mother was there holding her close and comforting her.  A soft hand caressed her hair back from her flushed face.  An angel whispered promises in her ear and she felt light as a feather.    The winds carried her gently and there was no more pain or fear.   




  Lily tenderly held the dying child in her arms catching her last breath.    The innocent tears had summoned the sidhe from the under realm.  Lily felt another spirit carefully guide the girl into the summer lands.  She lay the diseased ridden body down after Anne’s spirit had left it.      Touching the ancient roots of a nearby tree, the earth moved and the child was swallowed until nothing was left. 

  Standing up, Lily brushed the dead leaves from her fawn colored skirt and took a step back.    Suddenly there was a clank of metal and she felt the sharp jaws snap shut about her foot.    The pain caused her to scream as she fell to the ground.    Gathering her skirt up, she accessed the damage.  Blood oozed from a laceration in her shin which bit into bone.  The trap was made of iron and steel which sapped her faerie strength.   

  “Please, Mother.”  She begged as she tried to pry the jaws open.    It hurt so much and the iron poison was entering her body.    Stubbornly she kept trying to tug it open.    I have to find something to use as leverage, she thought frantically.   

  Lily reached for a thick branch when she heard the horse charging at her.  Startled she watched the man gracefully swing down from the palfrey.  Her hands were brushed away and replaced with stronger masculine hands.      He swiftly opened the trap and released her.    Without a pause he picked Lily up in his arms and held her close, cradling her like a child.    She lad her hand on his chest, feeling his heart through the tunic, curiously she glanced up at his face which seemed so very familiar yet strangely unknown.   

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  Sir Thomas rode cautiously, picking his way through the thicket just southwest of Rennes.    No birdsong echoed through the forest as he made his way along the trail to meet with Lancaster’s spy.    The silence made his skin crawl.    His palfrey huffed softly as he led her through the dense trees. 

  The crisp autumn air stung his face and hands.    Thomas stared into the darkness trying to determine his whereabouts.  He was tired of warfare and the stench of death yet the future felt undone and bleak.    Du Guesclin was riding in defense of Rennes.  He felt a grudging respect for his French counterpart.  Prince Edward had sent him as soon as the news had reached his royal ears.       

  Sleep held no comfort for him so he remained awake and ready for battle.  Even so the forest was not safe for travelers.    Thomas tensed as he heard the rustling of leaves, snap of steel, and a shriek split the night.    The scream did not sound like an animal but like a woman.    He drew his broad sword and took off in the general direction of the cry. 

  In no time he came upon a petite woman.  She was clawing at a wolf trap.  Her rich auburn hair hid her face as she attempted to get its jaws open.    Her arms trembled as she pulled the blades back with gloved hands.  He could hear her pleading for strength to hold the trap so it would not snap back onto her shin.    He jumped from the horse and raced forward to help, startling her in the process as he grabbed it and pulled it the rest of the way open.   

  She quickly pulled her leg out, flinching as the iron and steel brutally snapped shut.    Without a word, he picked her up and carried her back to his horse.  He fumed at the stupidity of the girl to wander about unescorted in the forest without a thought or care to her safety.    Carefully he placed her in the saddle and climbed up behind her. 

They rode quietly to the camp Thomas had set up before he had set off on his mission.  He gently placed her next to the small fire pit.  Lighting the twigs and dried grasses, he use the soft glow as he inspected the wound.    The laceration around the ankle was deep but, thankfully, the jaws had not cut the tendon and the bone was not broken.  He soaked a cloth in wine and cleaned the blood off her smooth calf and delicately arched foot without a care of her modesty.  His attention to the sight was swift and efficient.  There was nothing for it but to wrap the wound and hope infection did not set in.    Still she did not make a noise, only watched him closely as he bound her leg, her intense eyes studied his every move. 

  “What, in the name of all that is Holy, are you doing out here alone, woman?”  He growled in her direction.    Her lips curved seemingly amused by his tirade.    The horse neighed nervously, stepping as far away from her as possible.    She curled her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, her eyes never leaving him.  A chill washed through him but he soon shook it off.    At first he thought she was a peasant girl setting traps but by her fur lined cloak and kid gloves he knew better.    Was she Lancaster’s ‘man’? 

  He stood up to settle the horse then turned back to his strange companion.    Thomas watched her closely.  Either she was the spy he was to meet or she would be prisoner.  He could only hope her ransom would be massive.  “I have little in food and drink to offer you but you are welcome to it.”  He handed her the small flask of wine and bread.   

  “Thank you.”