Page 51
“I will pass, thank you. If you’ll excuse us,” Elle said.
The hag leaned on a massive walking stick, squinting at Elle. “You have fire, yes. Your heart will surely last me a decade, maybe longer.”
Elle started to turn Rosemerry around. She glanced at Severin, he nodded.
When Elle clucked to Rosemerry, urging him away from the hag, wind blasted her and a skeletal tree cracked and fell in the path, making both Rosemerry and Fidele shy.
“Ah-ah-ah. I did not say you could leave, dearie. It’s been too long since I’ve supped on a maiden’s heart,” the woman said, rubbing her gnarled hands together as she lurched closer.
Severin was off Fidele in one smooth movement, standing between Elle and the crone with his rapier thrust at the old woman.
“Not a step forward,” he growled.
The crone snarled. “I have no need for men. Leave, boy.”
“No,” Severin said.
The hag stopped shuffling and regarded Severin. The white color of her eyes seemed to swirl as she studied him. “A fighter are you? Won’t do you any good. Stand aside or I’ll curse you.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Severin said, crouching in what Elle recognized as a sword stance.
The hag chuckled, making the hair on Elle’s arms prickle. “Heroics will only see you dead,” she said, her voice growing darker until she sounded like the rumbling growls of starved wolves. “Your curse is nothing but child’s play; I can forge something a thousand times worse. A century of being picked at by crows—they’ll start with your eyeballs of course—or how about being buried alive? Maybe I’ll imprison your spirit and you can serve me for eternity, but that wouldn’t be as satisfying as baking you whole. Oh, I do so love to be gruesome.”
“Severin,” Elle said.
“Be still,” Severin ordered.
“But in the end, maybe I’ll gut you and tan your hide. You would make a fine decoration,” the hag said, bobbing her skinny neck.
When Severin took another step towards the crone she raised her staff. Again the wind buffeted Severin and Elle, pelting them with shards of ice. The horses screamed. The hag laughed.
The crone hugged herself while Severin and Elle recovered. Her laugh broke into a shriek when Severin nailed her shoulder with a hand axe Elle hadn’t seen him unearth.
The hag screamed like an animal and whirled her walking stick in the air. “You shall pay for that, beast!” she spat, her staff starting to glow the same curdled color as her eyes.
Severin struck like a snake, stabbing his sword in the woman’s chest before ripping it upwards.
The woman howled and her body erupted into ash colored snow, sickly swirling for a moment before the wind carried it away. Her howls echoed in the woods long after the fight was over.
Rosemerry shook, and Fidele tossed his head after Severin sheathed his sword and mounted up.
“What was that?” Elle asked, gripping her saddle for support.
“A mountain hag, I think,” Severin said. “They are twisted, evil magical entities. They mostly live in Verglas, our northern neighbor, but sometimes they wander south to us in the winter months if they are desperate enough. They prey on young women, killing them and devouring their hearts. Typically one does not see them in Loire but on the darkest days of the year. I find it worrisome that one is already this far south when it is but the first snow of the season.”
Elle shivered and felt for the shape of her dagger pressed into the side of her boot.
“We should return to the chateau. I wouldn’t think more than one mountain hag would wander into this wood, but I don’t wish to chance it. This way,” Severin said, taking Fidele off the path.
The mouse colored horse plunged into a drift to skirt around the fallen tree before Severin steered him back onto the road.
Rosemerry followed, shaking once to making his fur poof up.
When they were further down the road Elle twisted in the saddle to glance behind them. She could barely see the fallen tree—a sad, black figure spread across the road. “Severin, thank you.”
“For?”
“For fighting the hag for me.”
Severin pulled Fidele into a halt and actually turned around to stare at Elle. “As long as you are in my care you are my responsibility. I will make sure no farther harm comes to you.”
“Harm is one thing, but she threatened to curse you more than you already are.”
“I was prepared for such an outcome.”
“And you still did it?”
“Of course.”
Severin and Elle stared at each other for a few moments before Severin said, “I don’t understand what you are surprised about.”
Elle stared down at Rosemerry’s fat, glossy neck. “No one has ever been willing to sacrifice themselves for me.”
“Elle.”
The tone of Severin’s voice dragged Elle eyes up so they met his.
“I will always protect you,” he said before straightening in his saddle and cuing Fidele on.
Elle stared at Severin’s back, her mind in an uproar. She wanted to believe Severin, but how could she when she was indentured because of him?
The hag leaned on a massive walking stick, squinting at Elle. “You have fire, yes. Your heart will surely last me a decade, maybe longer.”
Elle started to turn Rosemerry around. She glanced at Severin, he nodded.
When Elle clucked to Rosemerry, urging him away from the hag, wind blasted her and a skeletal tree cracked and fell in the path, making both Rosemerry and Fidele shy.
“Ah-ah-ah. I did not say you could leave, dearie. It’s been too long since I’ve supped on a maiden’s heart,” the woman said, rubbing her gnarled hands together as she lurched closer.
Severin was off Fidele in one smooth movement, standing between Elle and the crone with his rapier thrust at the old woman.
“Not a step forward,” he growled.
The crone snarled. “I have no need for men. Leave, boy.”
“No,” Severin said.
The hag stopped shuffling and regarded Severin. The white color of her eyes seemed to swirl as she studied him. “A fighter are you? Won’t do you any good. Stand aside or I’ll curse you.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Severin said, crouching in what Elle recognized as a sword stance.
The hag chuckled, making the hair on Elle’s arms prickle. “Heroics will only see you dead,” she said, her voice growing darker until she sounded like the rumbling growls of starved wolves. “Your curse is nothing but child’s play; I can forge something a thousand times worse. A century of being picked at by crows—they’ll start with your eyeballs of course—or how about being buried alive? Maybe I’ll imprison your spirit and you can serve me for eternity, but that wouldn’t be as satisfying as baking you whole. Oh, I do so love to be gruesome.”
“Severin,” Elle said.
“Be still,” Severin ordered.
“But in the end, maybe I’ll gut you and tan your hide. You would make a fine decoration,” the hag said, bobbing her skinny neck.
When Severin took another step towards the crone she raised her staff. Again the wind buffeted Severin and Elle, pelting them with shards of ice. The horses screamed. The hag laughed.
The crone hugged herself while Severin and Elle recovered. Her laugh broke into a shriek when Severin nailed her shoulder with a hand axe Elle hadn’t seen him unearth.
The hag screamed like an animal and whirled her walking stick in the air. “You shall pay for that, beast!” she spat, her staff starting to glow the same curdled color as her eyes.
Severin struck like a snake, stabbing his sword in the woman’s chest before ripping it upwards.
The woman howled and her body erupted into ash colored snow, sickly swirling for a moment before the wind carried it away. Her howls echoed in the woods long after the fight was over.
Rosemerry shook, and Fidele tossed his head after Severin sheathed his sword and mounted up.
“What was that?” Elle asked, gripping her saddle for support.
“A mountain hag, I think,” Severin said. “They are twisted, evil magical entities. They mostly live in Verglas, our northern neighbor, but sometimes they wander south to us in the winter months if they are desperate enough. They prey on young women, killing them and devouring their hearts. Typically one does not see them in Loire but on the darkest days of the year. I find it worrisome that one is already this far south when it is but the first snow of the season.”
Elle shivered and felt for the shape of her dagger pressed into the side of her boot.
“We should return to the chateau. I wouldn’t think more than one mountain hag would wander into this wood, but I don’t wish to chance it. This way,” Severin said, taking Fidele off the path.
The mouse colored horse plunged into a drift to skirt around the fallen tree before Severin steered him back onto the road.
Rosemerry followed, shaking once to making his fur poof up.
When they were further down the road Elle twisted in the saddle to glance behind them. She could barely see the fallen tree—a sad, black figure spread across the road. “Severin, thank you.”
“For?”
“For fighting the hag for me.”
Severin pulled Fidele into a halt and actually turned around to stare at Elle. “As long as you are in my care you are my responsibility. I will make sure no farther harm comes to you.”
“Harm is one thing, but she threatened to curse you more than you already are.”
“I was prepared for such an outcome.”
“And you still did it?”
“Of course.”
Severin and Elle stared at each other for a few moments before Severin said, “I don’t understand what you are surprised about.”
Elle stared down at Rosemerry’s fat, glossy neck. “No one has ever been willing to sacrifice themselves for me.”
“Elle.”
The tone of Severin’s voice dragged Elle eyes up so they met his.
“I will always protect you,” he said before straightening in his saddle and cuing Fidele on.
Elle stared at Severin’s back, her mind in an uproar. She wanted to believe Severin, but how could she when she was indentured because of him?
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