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Prince of Shadows

Summary:

It was early evening, and the small farming village of Green Woods had begun the nightly preparations for sleep

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Prince of Shadows
By Lucinda


What had gone before...

It was early evening, and the small farming village of Green Woods had begun the nightly preparations for sleep. The farmers had retired from their fields; the herders had put their animals into their barns and sheds for the night. Heavy clouds, promising rain were gathering to the south. It seemed to be a normal evening, in a perfectly normal summer.

From the northern borders of the woods that gave the village it's name staggered a figure. Numerous farmers could see the figure approaching. Many ignored the figure, believing it none of their business. A few went towards the figure, curious as to whom it could be. Among these was Nikoli, one of the more respected farmers, a man with four strong sons to follow after him: Tarryn, Alexis, Ruben, and his youngest, Ivan. As chance would have it, Nikoli was the first of the farmers to reach the staggering figure.

None could doubt that the man before them was fleeing from something. This was not one of their folk; he had none of the features of the sturdy peasant folk such as they. His skin was as pale as moonlight, and he was of a fine boned build. His hair was black, and where it was not tangled with leaves and dirt, glittered. The stained, torn and dirty remnants of his clothing looked to have been crimson velvet. He obviously was of wealth, and perhaps of power as well. Several bruises could be seen on him.

The stranger looked at them, and his eyes were as black as storm clouds. There was an uncanny sense of self assurance and... something unidentifiable in his eyes. " I... ask for... Sanctuary. Others... hunt me... for foul.. reasons. Please." All could tell he was on the last of his strength.

Nikoli took the stranger to his home. He offered him shelter, such aid as he could give, and a hearty meal. He and his family helped him to his home. The stranger was given a bath, clean clothing was found for him, and they shared their meal with him.

The hunters arrived the next day, around noon. There were six of them; tall figures in darkly gleaming mail, with dark green cloaks, and visored helms with fluttering green plumes. They were mounted on great lizards, the fabled war- beasts of the Sadren Mountains. The villagers felt a deep, instinctive fear and loathing of these seekers.

For two days, the seekers, for that is what they called themselves, stayed in Green Wood. They had taken the home of the village speaker for their lodging, haughtily informing him that they would stay there. They ate the best food in the village, and pressed many questions on people. Nobody admitted to knowing of the prisoner that they sought. Finally, Ivan sought them out in secret. He asked if there would be reward if some person were to aid them on their quest. He spoke with them for several hours, and for a heavy sack of gold, Ivan betrayed the battered refugee to the seekers.

The next night, they came to Nikoli's home. They broke down his door, and went for the quiet refugee. Nikoli sought to stop him, for he had promised protection to his guest. They pulled their dark blades and cut him down. They seized the refugee, and drug him towards the doorway of the home. He struggled, and fought as best he could, but he was unarmed, weak, and outnumbered. Only Ivan seemed unsurprised. The seekers ruthlessly kicked and struck the stranger to subdue his struggles. As they drug away the strange man, he looked back at them. His expression was that of a man who knows that he shall face his death. Everyone in the village had spilled from their houses to fill the square. Puzzlement, confusion and fear could be seen on their faces.

The stranger called out, as he was roughly hauled away. "I say unto you that I have been betrayed. For this betrayal of hospitality, no good will come. Three-fold return shall come for all your actions. Know you that I am Tamor a'Karytt, rightful prince of the Aelwyn Kingdom, and by this, you have given me over to death at the hands of my enemies."

The next day, one of he children sent out to watch a flock of sheep came shrieking back to the village. She had stumbled upon a beaten, slashed, and headless body. When others went to investigate, it was discovered to be the savaged body of the man who had claimed to be Tamor a'Karytt, their rightful prince. Any could tell that he had been slain by the actions of men. Presumably, his head had been taken as proof that they had found him. He had indeed, been carried off to death.

* * * *

Almost fifty years had passed since that day. Ivan's betrayal had remained a secret, and he had become the Speaker of Green Wood. His family had multiplied, and many could claim kinship to the Speaker. Green Wood had grown slightly, but it had remained a village of farmers and herders. Many people were dour, and inhospitable. The only significant change in the occupations of the village had been that they now had a healer woman. Tranice had arrived in their village a bit over thirty years ago. She had set herself up in a small cottage outside the village, and began to grow and gather herbs. Eventually, the villagers had started to go to her when they were ill, or wished for some sort of healing. Tranice was a small, slender woman, with milk white skin, inky black hair, and dark, mysterious eyes. She had been there for ten years, always slightly apart from the rest of the village, when it became apparent that she would bear a child.

Many of the villagers were curious where the father of her child was. She had not taken any of the village men for a husband, nor did any ever see signs that someone shared her home. Finally, Marya, the baker's wife, and one of the few people that could claim any degree of closeness to the mysterious healer asked her. Tranice spoke with her alone, in her wood cottage. After they had spoken, many questioned Marya about her words. Marya merely said that Tranice had been attacked and forced by a man, and that she would not give a name. In due time, Tranice gave birth to her child, which was a daughter.

Helyce, for that is the name that she gave her daughter, had her mother's slender build, dark eyes and pale skin. Her hair was a dark brown, not unlike the hue of many of the villagers' hair. Helyce stayed with her mother, and grew wise in the ways of herbs, and in the treating of wounds. Helyce could not save her mother when she caught a winter fever, and died. Others said that it was as if Tranice had no further desire to live. So it came to pass, that Helyce became the village of Green Wood's healer.

Then summer came, fifty years after the summer of the seekers, and seeming identical in weather to that summer. Villagers began to disappear. At first, the missing people had been young men, and presumed to have gone off, seeking adventure. When a young couple disappeared, they were presumed to have run away to elope. When the first of the children vanished, talk began of curses, or wild beasts. The only one who gave no weight to the speak of curses was Helyce, who merely said that a curse such as this could not be placed without cause, and had thought no more of curses.

Helyce was checking the progress of the bundles of herbs that she had hung along the cottage rafters to dry. They had to dry completely, without mold growing upon them. She was standing on her upturned washtub to check them, when she heard someone pounding upon her door. It was dark out, and she knew that little would bring most of the villagers out to her home with the disappearances. Carefully, she stepped down, and walked to her door. She opened her door, curious as to who could be out there.

Framed by her doorway, a mysterious stranger stood. He was dressed as any farmer would be, and wore a woolen cloak. The left shoulder of his cloak was stained with blood, and he appeared slightly unsteady. Helyce bid him to enter her home, and she would look to his shoulder. She was surprised at his appearance. He was the most striking man that she had ever seen. His skin was as pale as the moon, his hair as black as shadow. He was not built like any man she had ever seen, being far more slender. His eyes were like polished orbs of onyx, and about as readable.

She took his cloak, and his hand was cold. Slightly puzzled, Helyce had him sit by her fireplace, where the small fire that she had cooked her evening meal over still burned. She helped him out of his shirt, and carefully examined his shoulder. The stranger proved to be quite well muscled, despite the fact that he was of lean build. He had many scars over his body, some of which looked to have cut very deeply.

Several cuts had been inflicted over his left forearm, and he appeared to have been stabbed in the shoulder. If she had to guess, she would think that he had been in a duel. Oddly, none of his injuries bled very much. She had placed a few herbs into a small kettle, brewing them into an infusion. She then gathered a few clean cloths, and a handful of bandage strips. Carefully, she poured a little of the brew onto the cloths, and used them to clean his wounds. As she did this, she explained that these herbs helped to prevent infection, and she wanted to try to help him heal as well as she could. Finally, having cleaned his wounds, she bandaged his arm. Producing some gauze, she placed it into the rest of the brew in her kettle. After she had let it soak, she carefully placed the gauze over and slightly inside his shoulder puncture. Then, she placed a folded cloth over the gauze, and wrapped bandages around him to hold everything in place.

Looking him over critically, she was not pleased with the results that she saw. His wounds had barely bled. There was no color to his face, not even the faintest hint. She insisted that he stay, so that she could be certain that no further complications of his injury developed. He looked thoughtful for a moment, and nodded. She offered him some bread, and vegetables, and watched as he ate them. He seemed to accept them more from politeness than hunger. Her mysterious patient spoke no words, and made not a single sound.

That night, as she drifted towards slumber, she had the most vivid and….odd dreams. They were full of touches, and caresses over her body. She thought that she felt someone kissing over all of her body. She really wasn't quite certain how to describe the rest of what had passed, but it had been quite pleasurable.

There was no sign of the mysterious wounded stranger in the morning. It did not look as if anyone had slept on the pallet by the fire. All of her dishes, and her kettle, were clean and in their places. No cloak hung to dry beside the fire. Helyce was certain that he had been there, so she looked more carefully. She could find only absences to indicate that someone had been here. The other small loaf of bread was gone, as were another portion of vegetables. Some of her herbs to fight infection had been used; one of the bundles was smaller. She could tell that her bandage box had been moved. Who was this mysterious man that had not spoken? Why had he not spoken to her? Why had he left before she had risen, and been so careful to leave no sign of having been there?

Helyce had no answers for any of these questions. She decided not to speak of him, and prepared to go to town. Instead, she would listen to what the villagers were saying, and see what information she could glean. Her legs felt oddly stiff this morning, and she felt weak and tired, as if she had just finished a long day, instead of just rising. She would need the herbs that would ease the pain of the elderly villagers aching joints, those for aiding digestion and the soothing of stomachs. She also packed up some of what were referred to as women's herbs, as they were most commonly used to ease a woman's discomfort during her moon-flows.

Helyce learned that Malika had decided that she wished to marry Alexis, the blacksmith's son. Little Marya, the baker's granddaughter, had discovered that her cat had birthed five kittens. Natashe Spekenov was pregnant again. Old Tarryn had had a dream about a vengeful spirit. She resolved to ask him about it when she took him his pain herbs. Annya, who had been planning to wed Ruben Ivarenka, was heartbroken. Ruben Ivanka, a hot-tempered troublemaker, had been found dead. He appeared to have been in a terrible sword fight, and lost. Helyce had frowned slightly at this, remembering the stranger's wounds.

She tapped on Old Tarryn's door. She only tapped lightly, as she knew that age had not dulled his ears, or his mind. He called for her to enter his small cottage. He offered her tea, which she accepted. She produced a bundle of the pain herbs for him, and hung them on a nail near his fireplace. She knew that Tarryn knew how to properly use them. Helyce asked Tarryn if he would tell her about his dream. After a few moments thought, he agreed to tell her.

"At first, I dreamed of my youth. I was helping my father with the fields, as is normal for a farmer's son. In my dreams, I was strong, and once more the healthy young man that I had been. On our way back to Green Wood, a stranger staggered out of the woods. He looked similar to your mother, young Helyce. He had black hair and eyes, and pale skin. He wore tattered remnants of velvet. Father offered him hospitality and sanctuary."

"Next, I dreamed of him being pulled from the village by demons in black mail, riding the war lizards of the Sadren Mountains. He called back, not asking for help, but saying that one of our village had betrayed him to them. He promised dire retribution to his betrayer." Old Tarryn paused here, and grew very thoughtful. He rubbed his chin, and looked thoughtful.

"After that, I dreamed that a plague of misfortune had descended upon the village. I saw oxen spook and trample their owners. People slipped while sharpening knives and scythes, slashing so deeply into their arms that they bled to death. Children playing by the river fell into its waters, and did not rise out. Everywhere, watching every death, a dark cloaked figure stood. Always, surrounded by shadows, and with the chill of the grave near. The dream seemed almost a warning, or a promise. I fear for the worst." Tarryn concluded his dream with a grimace. "But perhaps I am only an old man, afraid of his own death." Tarryn's half hearted attempt at lightness failed. However, his token protest against the idea of a prophetic dream had been made.

Curious, Helyce asked him if such a stranger had fallen into the village. Never had anyone spoken of such an event to her. Tarryn explained that yes, a stranger had staggered from the woods, beaten, exhausted, and clearly not of the area. His father had taken him in, offering him shelter from the hunters the stranger feared pursued him. That the hunters had arrived, demanding the fugitive be given over. He told her how none of the village would speak of him, but that the hunters had somehow learned the stranger had been with his father. Tarryn told her of the confusing night when they burst through his father's door, somehow knowing that the stranger was there. Watching his father be cut down for trying to defend his guest. That the man had struggled, fearing some terrible fate if alone with the hunters. Finally, he told Helyce of the strangers parting cry â€" that he had been betrayed, and was in truth the rightful prince of the land.

"What happened to him, Tarryn? Was he indeed the Prince Tamor? Did the hunters truly intend him harm? Why have I heard nothing of this before?" Helyce was puzzled. To think that something like that could have happened, and that none would speak of it! In a village where stories of great-grandparents childhood mishaps and illnesses were discussed freely and used as warnings to everyone, and where tales of fights, misunderstandings, and accidents circulated for years, such a secret was astonishing.

"I do not know that he was truly the prince, but I do not know otherwise. His body was found the next day, brutally slashed by swords, and headless. Clearly, the hunters meant him harm. I can only guess that some soul did indeed betray him, and I think only that soul knows who it was. My feeling is that the people of the village were frightened, and wanted desperately to forget. It was never spoken of again." Tarryn's answer was thoughtful.

Helyce was disturbed and carried on with her tasks numbly. She wondered if some dark spirit could be the cause of the disappearances. She started to think about who had vanished or died under unusual circumstances. Mikhail, with his light fingers and leering eyes had disappeared first. Then, the twins: Ivan the younger, with his foul temper, and Staven, whose breath always smelled of beer and that several of the village girls said had forced them. Then, Rihan and Misha had vanished one night. The young couple had been engaged for three summers, and for all of that time, it had been wondered if they would kill each other before the wedding. They had constantly fought, and just as constantly made up. Piotr, with his quick accusations of cheating had been found north, in the forest. He looked to have been frozen. Then, young Sammyrr, only eight, but the terror of the village dogs, had vanished under a new moon. Lastly, this morning they had found Ruben, apparently killed in a sword fight. Helyce couldn't see what anyone would want with any of them, and quietly felt that their absence probably improved the village.

Helyce pondered her mysterious, magnetic patient. It seemed likely to her that he had fought with Ruben, and killed him. Nobody like that had been seen in Green Wood since her mother's death. She wondered where he had come from. How had he received all of those scars she had seen? Why hadn't he spoken to her? Perhaps he had been injured in his past and could not speak.

He returned to her that night. Helyce checked his injuries, and explained to him every thing that she was doing while checking him, hoping that he would talk to her. She had just bandaged his shoulder again when something made her look up at him. He kissed her, his lips cool against hers, and her will melted at his touch. He carried her to her bed, and proceeded to show her the pleasures of man and woman. The mysterious feeling of the night before made sense to her now... In the morning, he was gone again.

As the summer passed, Helyce found herself unable to put her mysterious lover from her mind. The thought of him caused her stomach to flutter, and her loins to warm. She could barely manage the appropriate pretense of shock and muted grief as more people vanished, or perished oddly. She felt oddly numb and untouched by the series of bizarre deaths. It was as if she could only feel emotion when in her silent lover's presence. Lerryn, the youngest son of Speaker Ivan, had been found dead over his grindstone. He had been sharpening his knives, and somehow slashed both of his arms to the bones, and bled to death in his own home. She longed for night, and the return of her dark lover. The oxen of one of Ivan's grandsons - Meryyn, had spooked at nothing, and had trampled him to death. His neighbor's sons had been there to help him with his field, and had witnessed the whole thing. Helyce could not mourn the passing of the copper pinching man whose dark eyes had silently taunted her long after other's had stopped speaking of her bastard ancestry - she was her mother's daughter, but she had no father. Helyce could not bring herself to mourn the passing of any of the dead, feeling only a quiet relief.

Helyce realized that she could not bear to loose her dark lover. She also realized that she would bear his child in the spring. Helyce did not know what she should do. She had not spoken of her lover to anyone, and found herself reluctant to do so. Nobody in the village had said anything about seeing such a stranger, and she had no wish to bring him up for discussion. Some things about him still vaguely troubled Helyce. His flesh was always cool, no matter how warm the air. He showed no interest in food, and Helyce had stopped offering it to him. He never spoke.

The only person in the village that she felt any great attachment to was old Tarryn. He had also been one of the few that had not, at least in secret, looked poorly upon her mother for bearing a child out of wedlock. The few villagers that her mother had counted as friends had died, leaving only Marya, and she seemed to live more in the years past than in the present time. She felt as though the village had nothing to offer her, and nothing to keep her. Still, Helyce stayed. An unceasing curiosity had overcome her, and she could not leave until she knew why these people were dying. She had become convinced that there was a reason, and a pattern. Old Tarryn was the only person she had spoken of this to, and he also felt that there had to be cause for this.

Several more days passed, and two more of the villagers died. One had somehow fallen into the river and drowned, the other had simply fallen over dead. Helyce thought very hard, and realized that there was only one thing that linked all of the victims of this mysterious curse- for the villagers had decided that that was what it was. All of them were descended from Old Ivan Nikolika, the Speaker of Green Wood. That could be a problem, most of the village could claim relation to Ivan, either by descent, or through one of his brothers. Helyce was trying to determine if any of the dead were not descendants of Ivan, and how many descendants he had left.

She had mentally identified all of the surviving descendants of Ivan, and there were only a few left. She was pondering this as she went to see the baker, Piotr, who had cut his arm, and to take Old Marya her medicines, for her aching joints and wracking cough. Piotr's arm bore a long cut, deep at one end, getting shallower towards the other. He wouldn't say how his arm had been cut, but he looked worried. Finally, she went to see Old Marya

"Good day to you, young Helyce. Stars above child, you look more like your mother every day, may she rest in peace. Oh, you brought me more weinas tea. Bless you, child. My poor old bones do ache nowadays." Marya was feeling talkative today. Furthermore, she seemed very aware of when she was. Helyce was relieved to see this.

"Good day to you, Marya. You seem to be feeling cheerful today. I hope that this other medicine will help your cough. I've tried a different mix of herbs, maybe this one will work better." Helyce greeted Marya brightly, feeling almost happy.

"Dear girl, you look surprised to see me in such a good humor. Why shouldn't I be in a good mood? Ivan's dreadful descendants are finally being weeded out of this village? I can't think of a single one of the newly dead that will really be missed. I can say such things because they're true, and I'm old enough that nobody worries that much about what I say. But I am a bit worried about you though." Marya paused and looked at Helyce thoughtfully. "What did your mother tell you on the matter of your father?"

Helyce blinked. Why was Marya asking about her father? "She told me that one night while she was gathering the flowers of the night blooming Astarael, someone raped her. By the customs of her people, so she said, that meant that I had no father, and that that man had no claim on her, her family, or on myself. I was her child alone. She never told me a name."

"Child, when the people in Green Wood realized that your mother was pregnant, I was the only one that could talk to her about it. I spoke to her, asked what had happened. Tranice told me everything. I told the village that she had said a man had attacked and raped her in the forest, but that she hadn't given me a name for him. I lied. Your mother was raped in the woods, yes, but she knew exactly who did that foul deed. She told me his name and made me vow to be careful with that knowledge. Helyce, that man, your father is Ivan Nikolika. I do not care if you claim him, I wouldn't. But, I think you have the right to know. Perhaps your mother's blood gives you some sorcorous gift, and that is how you can work such wonders with your herbs. It looks like something is destroying Ivan's family. I want you to be careful Helyce." Marya spoke carefully to Helyce, certain that this would not be pleasant news.

TBC..