Chapter Twenty Three

The Knotty Pub

~~

Pitsville Village, After Sunrise, 673, 28th, October

Rorik brought all of his indignation as he shouted, “I am a prince. You cannot treat me like this and think you can get away with it! Others will know I am missing, and know that I came to you for a Dark Door, and then never arrived!” She laughed and brought out her wand yanking him

into walking just by making a jerking motion with the old twig.

The hag smirked, “Seems I can.” She jerked her wand again, pulling him to where he nearly tripped and could have fell on his face. He groaned, “Why should I put up with this?” She made a lazy sucking sound, before replying, “Ya are the one who was disrespectful. Now ya got no choice, but to pay the debt. Oh, I aint worried, I hexed ya up real good. Ya are gonna have to work off whatcha broke.”

He snorted, “I will pay you for the damn bottles and then some.” She picked up her cat that was rubbing on her leg, and chuckled whispering in its ear, “Oh he already paid. I stole his coin bag, before he woke.” She let the cat feed from her third nipple by her shoulder, as she taunted Rorik, “Ya should count yerself lucky. It could always be worse.”

Rorik felt molested by her, as he countered, “I sincerely doubt that!” She giggled, until she coughed, then sneered, “Ya are naïve honey. I know how to make it worse. I could have cut ya up, selling yer organs to the Necromancers for their stew, lettin’ it kill ya real slow. Now that would have been worse, right?”

Prince Rorik got a cold shiver at her threat. He swallowed his fear, as he now reluctantly grumbled his apology, “Yes. Sorry I broke your bottle.” She chuckled, “Oh, now that is a nice bit of sweet to my ear. Still, the hex has been placed, and yer workin’ the debt off. Ya need ta make nice, and quit yer whinin’ or I will have ya snivelin’ like a baby.”

~~

Black Forest Village, After Sunrise, 673, 28th, of October

Whitey rushed into the Knotty Pub, a place favored by woodsmen. Murky looked up from his cup, and called out, “Whitey, buy me a drink?” Kolo’s man came over to Murky and his two men, nodding at Bull, and Weasel, “How about I give you a pile of coins, and buy all your drinks when you return from a simple job?” Bull huffed, “How simple?”

The guard, Whitey was cautious, as Bull was very large and mean. Swallowing Whitey said, “I need to find the princess. She has taken off and I was given a bag of coins and the task of hiring three men-.” Weasel cut in with a snicker, “You want us to find her. Show us the bag.”

Whitey pulled it out of his pocket and let it drop on the table. Murky gasped, “Ohhh that is a lovely sound.” Whitey said, “The master told me you are to bribe people into telling you if they saw her. Hit each port town going down towards the Sea.” Bull groaned, “That sounds like a lot of time in the saddle.” Weasel agreed, “Too much time.”

Carefully Whitey explained, “I grabbed three horses from the castle. First rate, no nags, you will be riding in style on this job. If you find her and bring her back, keep her in the forest and one of you comes to get me. I will take her to his men.” Weasel snickered, “Sounds, better. I am in.”

Murky scratched his head, “Is the carrot good?” Whitey said, “If you get to the sea without finding her turn around and come back, to report what you heard. I will give you each a bag. If you do find her you get twice as much.” Bull slammed his mug down, “Nice. I will go.” Murky grumbled, “What is the stick?”

Whitey said, “If you run off with the horses and coins, you will be hunted and killed, in a most unpleasant way.” Weasel said, “Nope, nope, no. I am out.” Bull smirked, “I would like to see anyone try.” Murky asked, “So do you trust this master of yours?” Whitey nodded, “He really wants her, and gave over the bag with no thought.” Bull nodded.

Thoughtfully Whitey added, “I say he is worth the coin, and will pay what he claims.” Murky picked up the bag, “So we look for a girl?” Whitey replied, “Princess Sidonia Vlasac,

fifteen, green eyes, coal black hair below her waist, very pretty.” Murky nodded, “When do we start?”

Whitey said, “Now. You two catch up with the ferry and find the girl. You Murky hold the bag and pay to hear if anyone saw her on the ferry or at any dock.” Weasel saw Bull and Murky get up. He stood and groaned, “Fine. I will go with.” Whitey saw them to the horses outside and watched them, head out of town, hoping they would find Sidonia.

~~

Pitsville Graveyard, Morning, 673, 28th, of October

Rorik walked up the hill in an angry silence, furious that he had become her slave, all because his mother wanted him to save Sidonia. He grumbled, “I will probably get killed doing it.” The old crone scoffed, “I doubt it. There is nothin’ deadly about diggin’ up graves, as long as they are old.”

She proudly added, “I do it all the time.” He tried to charm her, replying, “I was talking about the task my mum sent me on. Say, what is your name?” She said in a pleased smug tone, “Jacquelyn.” He was surprised as it sounded rather fancy and there was nothing elegant about her, she deserved a name like Spoilt, Moldy, or Stinky.

Still he tried for a pleasant tone as he said, “That is a very pretty name. So Jacquelyn, why are we going to dig up graves?” She said in a superior tone, “I create Spirit Jars.” Rorik did not like the sound of that, assuming he asked, “We are going to get spirits out of their graves?”

Jacquelyn snorted, “No, boy. I did not say I sell Spirits in jars, just the Spirit Jars. We are getting the Graveyard Dirt and the Coffin Nails.” He grumbled, “Why do you need them?” She mocked, “They are what holds the Spirit in the damn jar.” After a half hour they came to an abandon graveyard, Rorik gasped at the sight.

There were a couple of dozen collapsed caskets all above ground, “What in the Hell happened here? This is some scary shit!” She laughed saying proudly, “I dug those up meself.” She added, “Now ya are gonna dig me up some more graves, while I pull what nails are left from those.”

She tossed the shovel she had carried at him, “Get to it. Trust me. Ya do not want to be here when the sun goes down! Now that is some spooky shit.”

~~

Crooked Bend Dock, Morning, 673, 28th, of October

Each time the ferry had docked, Sidonia fearfully watched each passenger board. She quickly read their thoughts until she was satisfied; they held her no ill will. It was the same at the next two docks, where none getting on, paid her much attention.

Several docks had no one so the ferry did not even stop. Slowly the dark princess began to relax, watching as they passed fields and peasants working to bring in their fall harvest. The princess’ thoughts drifted towards her plans, until she saw that two men rode up to the Crooked Bend Dock, looking out at her ferry that had already left.

One man was very large and the other was very skinny. She accidentally said aloud, “Maybe they were planning to get on.” Reading their thoughts she heard, ‘We will find the dark haired girl at the next dock.’ Sidonia gasped, the ferryman heard wondering if she knew them.

The ferryman replied, “Well they are out of luck. It will be a week before I head back down again.” Sidonia asked, “There is only one more dock?” The captain chuckled, “I only meant that I doubt they will make it to the following docks before us, and we will not stop unless there

are waiting passengers, until we get to the Old Oak Tavern.”

He added, “The Old Oak Tavern, is where we will take a short break, so they might make that. After the Old Oak Tavern, the only road that connects to the docks is more than a bit inland. They would be unlikely to make any of those, unless they keep going to Half Moon Bay where we dock for the night.” Sidonia sighed, “Oh.” Knowing they were Kolo’s men, she hoped the ferryman was right otherwise she was in trouble.

~~

Kolo’s Catacombs, Noon, 673, 28th, of October

Samala woke again and hurried to contact her son, “Rorik. Where are you? Did you do what I asked?” It startled Rorik and he stopped digging, as he said, “I ran into a snag, on my way to find a witch with a Dark Door. She is forcing me to work to pay to use her Dark Door. I cannot say anymore right now, she is watching me.”

He groaned, “Can you do a vision or something to help me find you?” Queen Samala hissed, “No I already told you I cannot find out where I am. It never should have taken you this long! You could have walked to Blackstone castle by now.” Rorik huffed, “More like, two weeks on a good horse!” His mother mocked, “You are too late! Sidonia left.”

Prince Rorik said, “So she no longer needs my help?” Samala hissed, “Listen. Sidonia escaped on the ferry, of all things. Right out from under Kolo and his men’s noses. And out of reach of you as well, because you were likely just sleeping. You need to catch up to the ferry.” Annoyed, Rorik said, “Why should I involve her in finding you?”

Samala huffed, “Just listen. I do not have the energy to argue with you, or see what you are really doing. I think she will be at Half Moon Bay tonight. Get there and make her tell you about the book she stole from Anthony. I desperately need to know if she found it.” Rorik groaned, “I am doing all of this for a stupid bloody book?”

Queen Samala sneered, “Yes, the one Kolo asked you to find for him, I am certain you recall that encounter. If she does not have it, find out if she located it and what she read or learned from it. I will try to contact you again when I can. See that you do not fail me again!”

Rorik felt her leave, and the whole thing seemed like a loss cause, as he felt he would never get away from this angry old vicious ugly witch.

~~

Kolo’s men Bull, and Weasel, arrived in a cloud of dust at the Crooked Bend dock. They felt joy as they saw a few on the dock, waiting to board, Weasel said, “We finally caught up to them.” Then they saw the people were leaving the dock rather than waiting for the ferry.

Bull pointed, “The ferry is out in the water, it just left! It is continuing down the river.” Weasel grumbled, “Damn. We are too late and I am thirsty.” Bull pointed to the tavern, “We deserve an ale or two.” They were a few ales in when their leader, Murky arrived and saw their horses with the castle brand at the tavern.

He asked about with the fishermen at the shore, none saw anyone that matched her description. Yet he felt suspicious because they did not accept his coin to keep watching. They did not like the look of Kolo’s man, and so they declined the coin, feeling it was cursed blood money.

Murky went into the tavern and angrily said, “You two better be done now. We ride on, and this time when I ask around, you head on.” Sounding furious Murky added, “No stopping for a drink this time. I never should have been able to catch up with you, so catch up to the damn ferry!”

Weasel said, “I was thirsty.” Murky hissed, “I do not need you two getting me killed, because she slipped through our fingers.” Weasel sneered, “How would they know if we stop or not?” Bull agreed, “I was thirsty too.”

Murky bribed, “It is a big reward if we do find her, and you can drink all you want then, after the job is done.”

Bull, Weasel, and Murky now left getting on their horses, heading to the next docks and Murky got off to ask around as the other two headed on down the road.

~~

Pitsville Graveyard, Afternoon, 673, 28th, of October

Jacquelyn yelled, “I do not hear ya diggin’! Do ya want me to make your testicles shrivel up?” Rorik called out with disgust and fear, “No. I am shoveling! I got you three fucking caskets already and damn near have the fourth. How many shitty boxes do you need?”

The hag yelled back, “Do not be cussing at me boy, or I’ll make ya dig the whole yard up! Ya dig until I am too tired to pull any more coffin nails!” Rorik groaned, realizing he had forgot to be nice, thinking he could get her to let him go. Nothing seemed to be going his way. She wandered over and sat by the edge of the grave watching him dig.

He asked in a kinder tone, “So why do you need nails and dirt?” Jacquelyn did not mind repeating herself this time, “I create Spirit Jars, with the empty wine bottles. Tis not the easiest thing either, imagine me in that hole.” She laughed until she coughed, “It takes a bit of spellin’, yet when I am done; I take them to the Dark Market.”

He stopped looking up at her cringing as he asked, “Really, the Dark Market?” She giggled, “Ya have heard of it, huh.” Rorik nodded, “Yes. I have never went though.” He went back to work, feeling a bit more afraid of her. Jacquelyn sniffed, “I have a regular Warlock and Necromancer clientele.” Rorik gasped with respect.

Then saw in this light her face was shriveled, and her hair was a frizzy red. Rorik admitted, “You must be good, to sell to them.” Jacquelyn said, “It is not just a bottle neither; I dip the top of the bottle in lead, as well as givin’ them a lead lid to seal the Shade in with. I have my own forge out back.”

She proudly snorted, “I also provide the Graveyard Dirt and Coffin Nails, needed for the spell. It is not so easy to get the nails. Guess ya know that now. I have to tell most to think about it! They do not expect it is down deep. I pull ‘em from used caskets too.” He was annoyed, as clearly he knew that part. He looked at her to say so, and got distracted.

Jacquelyn was sucking down her tooth, with her tongue, and it brought the prince’s attention to it, as he realized that the old hag only had one tooth in front. The missing teeth, and darkened, eyes, lips, and tips of her fingers, had her looking more than just ill. She looked a bit dead. He assumed it was caused by working with the poison and lead, apparently it had a deadly cost even for a witch.

He forced himself to reply as he admitted, “Before this, I did not realize the coffin nails needed to be used ones.” She snorted, “It is a typical mistake to think ya can use any old nail. Even a new nail that could be used in a coffin by stealing it from a coffin maker. Well, when your spell fails, others claim the Shade was just too powerful.”

She boasted, “And, I guarantee mine. Ya now know why I get ‘em out of used coffins.” He said, “I am surprised you are up to it. I know now that it is hard work.” She snorted, “Damn right. I also get the dirt that was on the buried coffin. I happen to know others are lazy and just go to the outer edge of the graveyard. Tis not even real grave dirt!”

He nodded his agreement, “I might have done the same not knowing.” She snorted, “Tis lazy. Only part they make a mistake of doin’ and it causes the whole spell to not work, tis the Blood Magic runes on the bottle. An tis not that I am afraid of doin’ it in blood, cause I ain’t afraid of nothin’!” Rorik smirked, “I believe it.”

She ignored that, “Tis ‘cause it needs to be tied to the Witch who is conjuring the Spirit. The fools are muckin’ it all up, not even knowin’ that; yet I know it. I was a bit tuckered out from doing a dozen jars yesterday, but last night gave me the oomph, I was needin’. I should be able to finishup my stock by the end of the week now. Yer really helpin’ me out here.”

Jacquelyn yawned, “Then next week I am off to the Dark Market, with Poison Pellets, Ampules, and Spirit Jars. After that I will be taking a Holiday on the island.” He was impressed that she could go on Holiday. Rorik dug around the coffin, then pulled it up, and pushed it out of the hole. He saw why she had picked this graveyard. They were only buried three or four feet down, not the usual six.

~~

When Kolo arrived home, first he cared for himself, drinking an enriched blood mix that would speed his recovery. Feeling only slightly better after the grueling coach ride, he lit a lamp. Then going to his bookshelf he pulled it open, revealing a staircase. He carried Lola’s ashes as he went slowly down into the bowels of the darkened catacombs beneath his home, and his lamp caused the shadows to dance.

He went lighting a few torches and lamps he got a beautifully decorative bowl from his well stocked shelves, and placed Lola’s ashes in it. Carefully he took a fine brush and gently removed every particle from the guard’s jacket that held Lola’s essence. Now he sat the bowl in the center of a long table, within his oblong Craftroom.

Kolo walked under one of three decorative archways, leading into the largest room, which he called his Throne Room. The walls of the catacombs were of a golden, red, and brown dirt, in layers, some of it sparkled with bright white specks under the lamp’s light.

~~

Nearly eight hours after leaving the castle Sidonia started to feel like she had managed to escape Kolo’s men. As she watched cows in the river going up the bank, her exhaustion was taking over she feared being vulnerable. Then the Dragon nodded to her. She now fell asleep, knowing it would wake her, if she was in danger.

Rather than the mental rest she needed, she dreamt of her troubled past. Seven year old Sidonia peeked in the nursery and seeing only the nanny was alone with Viktor, she entered. Letting Viktor take hold of her fingers, she helped him stand and walk a few steps. Sidonia smiled, at little Prince Viktor’s excitement, and laughed.

As Viktor giggled, he let go of her hands and held the table as he stood there bouncing, very proud of himself. Sidonia clapped and the nanny smiled at her saying, “You are such a lovely child and so good with your brother. Do you think you can watch him, while I take a quick break? I do not know where my help is.” Sidonia smiled, “Yes.”

Taking Viktor to the blanket, she told him stories. Queen Samala heard her voice, as she walked down the hall, and had a dark smile; then suddenly began to faint, and leaned on her guard. He helped her to a chair. She gasped, “I need a drink.” He smiled, a bit enamored with her, he said, “I will bring you some blood, it will help you to feel stronger.”

She nodded, yet cringed behind his back. As soon as he was out of sight, she went to the

nursery door and opened it. Princess Sidonia felt her vile presence and looked up seeing she was blocking her escape. Picking up Viktor, Sidonia backed into a corner. It had only been six months since their picnic in the forest, with the wolves.

Father had ordered guards with Samala at all times. The queen hissed, “Awe, there is nowhere to go and no one to save you this time.” To Sidonia’s horror, Samala stalked towards her, meaning her harm. The little princess looked for a place to hide or how to get past her, and seeing none she screamed as loud as she could, causing baby Viktor to cry.

Now Sidonia realized she might put Viktor in danger by holding him. Sidonia carefully put him in the crib and then stood in front of it blocking her brother. Samala advanced slowly enjoying the fear she was causing, “You think you will betray me after I gave you life?”

~~

Lake Bled Rambler Camp, Afternoon 673, 28th, of October

Kristopher, was coming up the steps from the tombs, putting on his cloak, as he looked up, he nearly fell backwards. His clan leader Grigori stood at the top looking down at him. His glare and silence was worse than if he had yelled at him. Grigori now said, “I wish I could assume you were just sleeping rather than with the Lord’s wife.”

Kristopher got a sly smile, “So what if I was? Old man.” Grigori stated firmly, “I will give you one chance. You never see her again.” Kristopher’s face went red, as the leader finished, “Otherwise we will mark and banish you.” Kristopher’s face went pale and he felt sick, “You cannot be serious?” Grigori stated coldly, “That is the whole problem.”

Darkly his leader added, “You think of no one but yourself. If he found out, it would affect the whole clan.” Kristopher scoffed, “No.” Grigori replied, “You do not know him as well as I do. His anger and fury with others who wronged him, was legendary. I can only hope he would spare us, and only seek his vengeance on you. I cannot risk it.”

Grigori insisted, “Give me your oath right now, that this is the end of it with her.” Kristopher looked back at the door, and did not wish to end it. His leader saw it in his eyes and said, “So be it.” Grigori made the horned sign, and spit through it at Kristopher. It sent a chill through Kristopher.

His leader then stated with authority, “You no longer belong to the Lake Bled Clan of Ramblers. You are not welcome at our Cauldron. You are banished from entering the lands that we claim as ours. Go now, or the next time I see you, I will mark you so not even the other clans shall accept you.” Kristopher was stunned; he did not think he would really deny him something so important to him.

Grigori turned his back to him. Kristopher’s rage had been building over the last year as he felt he was always being singled out, as well as excluded from status in the clan. It had him seeking forbidden pleasures to feel better about himself, and now Grigori wished to take that too?” Fear had him rushing up the stairs as he stabbed him in the back.

Stunned at his own actions, he then gasped with horror, forgetting about the curse. It radiated pain from his heart. He let his leader fall backwards down the stone stairs. Struggling Kristopher managed to stumble towards the woods, so the others would not see the curse taking him over. Yet he feared they would easily find out now.

Kristopher hurriedly removed his clothing and boots before his shift to a wolf destroyed them. Soon he was naked on his knees as the fur came and then covered him. The ears, then the eyes and the teeth all changed, finally the cracking of his bones as he finished the transformation. As he became a wolf, he forgot to care about hiding his things.

Back at camp Grigori’s wife, Trina, suddenly had the knowing. Trina screamed out startling all who were near her. Clasping her heart, she went down on her knees as she wailed, “Grigori was murdered! He confronted Kristopher, and banished him for refusing to end things with the Lord’s wife! His body is at the door to their tomb.”

Xiko rushed to where she said, and found Grigori still lay at the bottom of the steps, face down, in his own blood. While Xiko found the discarded clothing near the woods, Kristopher was gone. Xiko carried Grigori’s body back to camp, and placed him with reverence on the table.

Trina wailed, “Kristopher is a Warg! Warn the clan; bring them back to the safety of our camp, where we can guard everyone!” Once they were gathered, Xiko to a handful of men and went in search of Kristopher.

~~