Lochlan

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Quite soon, the road entered the forest. With the sun still above them it looked idyllic with the leaves on the trees shimmering in shades of green, the brush on either side filled with berries, and small red and white flowers tucked around them. Idyllic if they discounted the gathering clouds still far ahead of them.

“You wouldn’t think there was any reason to be afraid, but I am nevertheless,” Maurenn said.

“Werewolf attacks are rare during the day,” Lochlan replied.

“How would you know?” Garratt asked.

“I have it on good authority from merchants who regularly travel this road. Of course,” Lochlan shrugged, “they are on horseback and travel with armed guards.”

“Something we seem to be lacking,” Garratt pointed out. “Which is why we should walk faster.”

The clouds were coming closer, but with the sun at their backs it was still light enough that Lochlan wasn’t too worried, other than for the fact he’d rather not be rained on if it could be avoided. Unfortunately, the clouds rolled in faster than he would have liked. He could see rain falling farther up the road, heading their way.

“Is that…?” Maurenn pointed to a small hut almost hidden between two towering trees at the side of the road.

“It is. If we hurry we might beat the rain,” Lochlan replied.

“And pray they let us in,” she said as she made a dash for the hut with Garratt and Lochlan right behind her. She pounded her fists on the door when she got there, biting her lip when it didn’t open. “Maybe no one’s here?”

“Maybe someone wants to know why you are trying to beat my door down,” a gruff voice replied as the door opened a crack.

“To get out of the rain, if you please, sir,” she said.

There was a long pause, and Lochlan was certain the man would slam the door closed on them. Then, it slowly opened. “Come in, if you must, but only until the rain passes.”

The interior of the hut was one room, very small but also quite neat, with a narrow bed along one wall, a roughhewn table under one of the two windows, and a fireplace set in the wall opposite the bed.

The owner was of indeterminate age, but well past his youth. His hair was a white mop, his blue eyes surrounded by crow’s-feet, his thin face lined with deeply etched wrinkles. He gave them a sour look before saying, “Sit, young woman.” He pointed to the chair at the table.

“Thank you for your hospitality, sir,” Garratt said as he leaned against the wall beside the door.

“You may call me Jervis,” the man replied.

“I’m Garratt, she’s my sister, Maurenn, and this man is Lochlan, or so he says.”

Jervis lifted one white eyebrow. “You don’t believe him?”

“We’ve only just met so I have no reason to, or not to either, I suppose.”

“I could say the same for the three of you,” Jervis said. “I would presume you are heading for Folkestone.”

“Yes,” Lochlan replied. “Although we’re planning on stopping at the Glenarif Inn overnight.”

At that moment there was a flash of lightning outside the windows, followed by a crack of thunder and instantly heavy rain drummed down on the hut’s roof. Maurenn let out a startled cry which made Jervis smile and say, “You’re safe enough in here from anything outside, be it a storm or one of the beasts who inhabit the forest.”

“Werewolves,” she whispered, and repeated it louder to be heard over the sounds of the storm.

“Aye, them. Have no fear; they won’t be out in this weather. They like their creature comforts the same as any of us, human or otherwise.”

“Have you run into any of them?” Lochlan asked.

“I’ve seen them, occasionally. Apparently they don’t think I’m worth their bother as I’m skin and bones.” Jervis shook his head with seeming amusement. “You three, however…”

“We can take care of ourselves if one shows up,” Lochlan told him.

“Him with his silver sword,” Garratt said with a roll of his eyes.

“Silver edged,” Lochlan said. “I’m hardly rich enough to have one of pure silver. A mage I know gave it to me to keep me safe during my travels.”

“A mage, you say,” Jervis replied. “And who would that be?”

“His name is Roland. He lives in Whitehaven.”

“I have heard of him. I would say you are lucky to have him as a friend, young Lochlan.”

Lochlan nodded, not willing to go into detail about his relationship with Roland. It would open him up to questions he didn’t want to answer.

They were silent for a few moments as speaking over the sound of the rain was difficult. Then Maurenn glanced out the window. “Unless I’m mistaken, I do believe the storm is passing.”

The men listened and nodded. The rain was definitely not drumming on the roof as hard as it had been. In fact, it was barely a pitter-patter at that point.

“That was fast,” Lochlan said.

“It’s the way of the weather around here,” Jervis told him. “Comes in fast and leaves equally as quickly if we’re lucky.”

Lochlan pushed away from the wall. “Then we’d best get going. It’s still a ways to the inn.”

“If you walk fast, you should make it before it becomes too dark,” Jervis said. “At least the moon will be full, which will help if the clouds thin or vanish.”

Lochlan opened the door to peer out. “They seem to be. Are you coming?” He looked at Maurenn and Garratt.

“No, we thought we’d stay here and sleep on Jervis’ floor until morning,” Garratt replied sourly, shaking his head.

“I’m afraid, while I might appreciate your company…Ah, you were joking to upset your friend?” Jervis chuckled.

“I was, and he’s hardly a friend, just a traveling companion.”

“I see.” Jervis looked between the two young men and shrugged. “Be that as it may, young Lochlan is correct, you should continue on your journey.”

Maurenn stood and curtsied. “Thank you for your hospitality, Jervis.”

“Think of it as a break in my otherwise boring day, but you are welcome nonetheless. Oh, one thing you must know, in case you are not aware of this fact. Not every human you might meet on the road is what they seem. Remember, the creatures are called werewolves because they can change their forms from wolf to human.”

“I knew that,” Lochlan replied with more bravado than he felt.

“Very good. Then I bid you farewell.”

The three young people walked the few steps to the road before turning east toward the inn.

“It will begin to get dark soon, so we had better hurry,” Lochlan said.

Garratt glanced behind them before stepping up his pace. “It doesn’t help that the storm is blocking out the sun.”

“It will be a bit better when the sun dips beneath the clouds,” Lochlan replied as he and Maurenn moved quickly to keep up with Garratt. “Although that won’t last for long before it sets. Then, as Jervis said, all we’ll have is the moon to light our way.”

“Shouldn’t we be quiet so those beasts don’t hear us if they’re around?” Maurenn whispered.

“Indeed we should.”

The trio continued silently in the direction of the inn, the muddy road slowing their progress somewhat.

“If we walk there…” Garratt gestured toward the narrow band of grass between the road and the trees.

Lochlan agreed it was a good idea as their boots wouldn’t sink into it as badly as they did into the mud. “Try to stay as far from the trees as possible. It’s too dark in there to see if anything is watching and waiting.”

“Please don’t let that happen,” Maurenn replied, glancing fearfully toward the dense growth of trees.

Darkness came suddenly, with, as Jervis had predicted, only the raising moon to light the way.

“We should be getting close,” Lochlan said a while later.

“I think I see a light ahead,” Garratt replied. “It must be from the inn.”

Lochlan saw what he was talking about. “Let’s hope so, although…”

“It’s moving, coming toward us,” Maurenn said. “Maybe a traveler like us?”

“Perhaps.” Lochlan rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and noticed Garratt doing the same with his.

A man came into view. He was dressed in a fine tunic over a shirt and breeches and wore tall black boots. His long, dark hair surrounded a face that bordered on handsome. To most people he would have appeared to be of the merchant class, and Lochlan might have believed it if the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck weren’t standing on end. Something about the man wasn’t right.

“Greetings, gentlemen, young lady.” The man gave a brief bow in Maurenn’s direction.

“And to you, sir,” she replied, smiling. “Can you tell us how much longer until we reach the inn?”

“It’s not far,” the man replied. “Right around the next bend in the road.” He held out his hand. “Come, let me take you there.”

When she reached for it, Garratt shouted, “No!” and grabbed her arm to pull her back.

Lochlan drew his sword at the same moment that the man seemed to vanish and a werewolf stood in his stead. It had a massive, black-furred body with a white chest, and a huge head with a mouth full of long sharp fangs that seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Shoving Maurenn behind him, Garratt lashed out, the tip of his sword cutting across the werewolf’s shoulder, while Lochlan attacked, slashing the beast’s muzzle. A howl of pain rent the air when silver met the werewolf’s flesh, but that didn’t stop it from trying to grasp Maurenn’s leg in its gaping jaws. Garratt attacked, cutting his sword across the beast’s haunches. It whirled to attack him, giving Lochlan the chance he needed. Holding his sword in both hands, he stabbed it deeply into the back of the werewolf’s thick neck and then pulled it sideways, half severing its head from its body. Instantly, a naked man lay in a pool of blood which quickly began to soak into the mud of the road.

Garratt was beside Maurenn seconds later, pulling her against his chest as she sobbed with residual terror and relief. Looking at Lochlan over her shoulder, he said, “I owe you my life for keeping her safe.”

“You did your fair share in that,” Lochlan replied as he wiped his sword clean on the grass beside the road. Then he picked up the oil lantern the werewolf had been carrying, surprised it was still lit.

“But without your silver blade he would have escaped with her.”

“Perhaps.” Lochlan shrugged, feeling embarrassed at Garratt’s praise, if that’s what it was. “For the moment, I suggest we get ourselves to the inn before another one appears and decides we’d make a good meal.”

Maurenn took a deep breath and pulled away from her brother. “I hope he was telling us the truth and the inn is indeed around the next bend.”

“Only one way to find out,” Lochlan replied. Sheathing his sword, as Garratt did as well with his, and holding the lantern to light their way, they set out again for the inn.