In Dreams: Red

The Legend

Once the woodsman had caught up to me, I notice the twinkle is back in his eyes.

“Very nicely done. Right Hand and Silver Tongue. The stories about you fail miserably to tell your true wisdom and worth. T'was my honor to meet you.” He sweeps a grand bow.

“You know something? I have the distinct impression you're laughing at me.” I say tartly, hands on my hips. A great guffaw issues from him.

“Not entirely, Lady. I am truly impressed, and you are truly insightful.” He replies. That wasn't truly a response either way, but I let it go. I was winding my way through the village towards my father's men and their camp. While they were more than competent, I always felt the need to oversee any issue I was involved in. Fitting the “Right Hand” stories to the extreme I suppose. Either way, I was eager to ensure the corpse and our dear strange prisoner had made it to the camp intact, and that all was ready or being readied for the return trip. I was morbidly curious about our friend/murderer and also very interested in how my father would take the news and what exactly he would have to say about the unique conditions of our killer and corpse. Morbidly curious, that's about the sum of it, perhaps too curious.

“How much would I need to bribe you to hear some of those very serious thoughts?” The woodsman asks, eyes once again twinkling with internal laughter. It surprised me that he was still following me.

“Not too very much I don't suppose. I was just thinking of our strange murderer, but I am rather surprised you're still with me.” I respond politely.

“Hmm, well, although I do believe you're rather safe, what with the murderer being apprehended and knowing you are no ordinary lady, or even person, and that you can by far take care of yourself and your own, my father brought me up to never leave a lady unaccompanied. Said only ungentleman-like swine did that, and to never leave a lady unaccompanied when she is wearing your cloak.” The twinkle had turned into an outright sparkling shine by this point. I couldn't help myself. I laughed along with him at this.

“You know, it's delightful to speak with someone who treats me as a normal human being, yet knows exactly who I am-and it seems a good bit of the lore surrounding me to boot.” I shrug his cloak from my shoulders, snatching it mid-air and attempt to hand it back, with no small amount of embarrassment. He shakes his head.

“No please, keep it, at least until we've reached your destination and can recover one of your own. I presume we're headed back to your father's people?” He asks. I respond with a nod.

“I really do want to start back as quickly as possible to get this matter straightened out. It has taken some... interesting twists.” I say quietly. I stop suddenly and look directly at the woodsman.

“Let me ask you a question, you seem like the knowledgeable sort, and you seem to know this area well. Have you ever seen or heard of any very large wild animals in this area? Or perhaps men who dress like animals to hunt?” I ask him and pause, then rush through the rest. “Or even heard tales of men who turn into beasts or other creatures?” To my surprise, he takes the questions seriously, his expression taking on a solemn look, twinkle fast fading from his eyes.

“Ah, you must be referring to the local legends-ghost stories I call them. Not much proof of it as far as I can tell. Just a bunch of ridiculous nonsense to scare naughty children, silly women, drunken men and to thrill the occasional stranger.” He tells me. All of this surprises me, I had heard no legends, but had a sneaking suspicion it would tie in with my strange killer.

“Well perhaps you can put all the pieces together for me, then, and tell me the facts, as you know them.” I request.

“You must have heard the beginnings of it? About the family? No? Ok, well, I'll start there then.. You know how these things go, there's always a mix of versions, each more elaborate and fantastic than the next. One tells it one way, another a different, someone else adds a detail, well you see where I'm going with this. So the story goes that a well known family, very rich, very influential, used to live in this village. Rumor has it they got so rich and powerful, they decided to set themselves up as gods. Of course the Gods themselves didn't like that, so decided to strike them down, laying such a terrible curse on them as had never been seen before. When the poorer folk found out, they ran 'em out of the village and into the woods, where they live to this day, haunting the forests and exacting their revenge on anyone they come across. Which is supposedly why most locals never venture very far into the forest, or try not to, 'less a job requires it. Another version goes they were strangers here, came in bearing the curse and were run out when the locals found out about it. But my best guess would be-if there ever was such a family-they've always lived out there, and if there ever was a curse, the reason was long ago forgotten, that it would be more of a 'condition' handed down from parent to child, and that they pretty much keep and fend to themselves out there somewhere. 'Course I've never seen any evidence of a family or otherwise living out in that forest, and I've made tracks through a large bit of it. But I did have a friend once who told me he'd stumbled across a tiny cottage out there, but had been too afraid to go near it. He never mentioned it again, and I never asked, but he was the reputable type, so it makes you wonder. For all I know though, the family could be all dead by now. Or nearly there anyway. No one's seen or heard from them in so many years.” He shrugged, but certain pieces were beginning to fall into place for me.

“Yes but what is it exactly that they say the curse is?” I ask him, although I was fairly certain I knew. I just needed to hear him say it to confirm it.

Some sort of shape-shifting. I gather it was largely involuntary at first, but surely a whole family of them would learn to control it somehow.” I could almost see the pieces come together with an almost audible click in my mind. “Ah, but you know legends and those that bear them, my Lady Right Hand.” And the twinkle was back in his eye, the spell of the legend broken at the mention of my own ridiculous 'legends'.

“That I do, and I really must be on my way. It's not much further now. See, you can spot the camp's fires from here. So I will relinquish your fine cloak with a very grateful thanks, and ask that if you ever need anything, and I do mean this-please send word.” I hand him his cloak. “Anything, I promise. I will do whatever is in my power to aid you.”

“I may just hold you to that Lady. Are you certain you wouldn't like me to accompany you the rest of the way?”

“No thank you, kind sir.” I say with a half-sarcastic curtsy. I'm rewarded with more bright twinkling in his eyes and a grand bow.

“My Lady. Pray I see thee again soon. On perhaps more pleasant terms.” He replies. I turn and make my way towards my father's men. I can sense that even though my good woodsman didn't accompany me, he stayed and kept an eye out to be sure I arrived safely anyway, so once I reach the edge of camp, I turn and wave briefly into the darkness and could almost hear the laughter from where I stood. But it was time to deal with more serious matters. I sighed and turned towards the sounds of my father's men preparing for the journey back and tried to think of a way to convince my father of what I had seen.