In Dreams: Red

Mother Of The Dead

I turn my attention back to the body. It has, of course, occurred to me how very important it will be to get this body back to my father for examination and whatever small amount of credence it lent to my version of the events I witnessed.

“How difficult do you think it will be to bring the corpse back with us to show to my father?” I ask Reginald (also known as Reg or Reggie). Although he was stiff and formal at times, he had a great head on his shoulders, was a good problem solver, could keep his cool during nearly ANY situation, and his thinking was almost painfully logical. Reginald shook his obsessively neat head of dark hair.

“It will undoubtedly slow us down. Your father expected us to return with the head of a beast or nothing at all. Not a prisoner and a dead body. We will need at least one extra horse to tie the body to alone, and carting a bound prisoner on horseback is no easy feat. To move as quickly as we need, we will have to allow him to ride with no restraints while keeping him surrounded on all sides, which leaves no one to lead the horse bearing the corpse.” Reginald responded, running an olive-toned hand through that neat hair, ruffling it slightly. I smirked, wondering how long it would take for him to realize he'd mussed his hair.

“I will lead the corpse. I find it very important that my father sees it. If I ride behind everyone, it will also give you no problems and provide a rear guard should the prisoner try to escape.” I decide, quickly hiding the smirk.

“But Lady, what of the dead's family?” A villager asks from the crowd. I look towards the wheelbarrow, where the corpse lay covered and still.

“Are they here? Can someone take me to the family of the dead?” I ask. “I would like to explain to them why it is important for this man to be shown as evidence against our killer.” A slightly heavyset man steps from the crowd.

“Ay can take yuh to his family.” He says. “Might not do yuh no good, this time'a night.” I recognize his voice from the crowd earlier as stating he knew the deceased drunkard.

“Lead onward my good fellow.” I reply. “Please take care of our prisoner while I am gone and have the body carted back to your camp when you take the prisoner back as well.” I instruct my father's men.

“You're that confident you can convince the dead man's family to allow you to keep the corpse?” A soft voice asks to my left. It's my guardian woodsman.

“I can be quite persuasive.” I tell him, setting my jaw firmly. He laughs.

“I'm sure of it, Princess. Please, allow me to accompany you, Lady. His mother may take this hard.” He sweeps a bow, and his eyes twinkle at me again. I nod grimly with the distinct impression I'm being made fun of by him, internally at least. I turn away from his amusement to follow my swiftly disappearing guide. The villagers are quiet as we pass, but I can hear the buzz of their conversation starting up the moment after we clear the last few stragglers of the group. Small towns and gossip. It's a way of life for them. Our portly guide leads us out of the forest and cuts through the outskirts of the village. In a poorer district he stops and waits for me and my still amused huntsman friend to catch up.

“She lives just down thuh way there-thuh house with thuh lantern out front, lightin' up thuh whole street. Yuh'll unnerstan' iffin ay don' come with yuh.” He shrugs uncomfortably.

“Thank you for leading the way.” I respond, inclining my head at him and wishing I had a few extra coins on my person to hand one or more off to him. The few I had on my person I already had plans for, however.

“Ayuh-she's probly waitin' fer her son tah return. Don' want no parts ah that. Good luck.” And with that our portly guide beats a hasty retreat. My woodsman friend, whose name I realize I don't even know, much less have I discovered his true occupation, strides towards the house and knocks smartly on the door. Before he has completed the knock,the door is jerked open and a querulous voice issues from the house. I trail closer to the house and wait behind the woodsman.

“...DON'T even tell me, how LONG you'll be gone. Up ALL NIGHT worried SICK, never knowing where you've been, could have had an accident for all I know.. oh.. can I help you?” The woodsman ducks his head, eyes twinkling kindly.

“Would you be the lady of the house?” He asks gently.

“Why, uh, yes I am. But um, right now is not a good time, you see I'm waiting for my son to..” She stops and her expression suddenly becomes stricken. “Oh no, oh no no nononono...” She shakes her head in denial and her face becomes white. I move forward swiftly, afraid she might fall, but I see my woodsman friend has that covered as well. He takes the lady by the arm and around her shoulders and guides her gently back inside. I notice all the twinkle has gone out of his eyes and he looks desperately concerned for the woman as he lowers her gently to a stool just inside the door.

“...told him the drink would get him into trouble one day! What am I going to do?..” She cries softly.

“Ma'am,” I say gently as I crouch down in front of the woman, tenderly taking her hands. “There is really no way to say this, so I'm just going to say it quickly and get it over with, ok?” She nods her head weakly.

“The drink didn't kill your son, alright? I want you to understand that.” She looks at me with hope in her eyes. “We believe another man, a mad-man, took his life. Now, we caught the man to blame, but in order for us to be able to make sure this man is held responsible, I'm going to have to ask you if we can borrow your son's body for a while.”

“But why.. I don't understand.. Why?” She looks at me with confusion.

“Well, because.. I'm sure you've heard the stories about a monster attacking people here?”

“Oh no! No, no..” She stammers.

“Wait, wait-it's not like that. We believe this person, this MADMAN has been responsible all along. That he's been dressing up or disguising himself and murdering innocent people. We need your help to ensure he's punished though. Without your son's body as proof, this madman will go free, and be able to harm other people. Please help us make sure this killer doesn't put another mother in the position you are in now. Will you help us? Will you allow us the use of your son's body for a short time? I promise you, you will get it back as quickly as possible for burial rights.” A look of steel is beginning to creep back into her as I finish my little speech.

“You're sure my son's body will help get this monster the punishment he deserves?” She asks me.

“Quite sure.” I respond.

“But how can you be so sure?” She asks me, pleadingly.

“Well because..” I begin, but my woodsman friend jumps in.

“Surely you recognize our land's lovely Lady-warrior, here before you herself to guarantee justice for you, your son, and all those who have been affected by this murdering madman?” He interjects. The woman looks at me in wonder, a mix of emotions runs across her face, like this has been the best and worst day of her life.

“Oh Lady, I am so sorry I did not recognize you before, I was just so overcome with grief, please allow me to offer you..” She stands up swiftly, as if ashamed to be seated in front of me. I take her hands gently and pull her back down to the stool.

“No, I wouldn't dream of asking you to offer me anything, except to allow me to comfort you and pursue the punishment of the murderer of your son.” I respond. That look of grief hardening into steel is back again.

“You're quite sure your father will deal with this murderer if he sees my son's body?” She falters on the last of it, but only slightly. I nod my head. The look of steel returns. “Then yes, do it, please do take him with you as proof, and return him when you can. Just make sure that madman is never free to do this again.” She grips my hands and looks earnestly in my eyes.

“I promise you that I will.” I tell her with conviction. She suddenly seems to realize she has a death-grip on my hands and looks slightly embarrassed as she lets go of me and drops her eyes.

“Please do allow me to at least make you a warm drink for this chilly night?” She asks me.

“Your offer alone warms my heart.” I lean in for a swift hug around her shoulders “But I'm afraid I really must be on my way. Perhaps when I return this way again I can take you up on that offer?” She looks pleasantly surprised and nods almost shyly at me.

“It would be an honor Lady.” She whispers.

“The honor would be mine. I know this can't in any way compensate you for the life of your son, but hopefully, it will keep you until this terrible thing is behind you. And if you ever have a need, please do send word to me.” I tell her as I press a small number of coins into her hand. Enough money, I hope, to keep her until she can find a source of income to make up for whatever her son might have made. She looks startled, but before she can object, I stand and make my excuses to leave, followed swiftly by the woodsman.

“May you keep safely, kind woman of the house.” The woodsman bows his way out.