The Yuletide Woodsman Read online

Page 7


  “I have a bad feeling about it. What can I do?”

  “She’ll soon learn he’s selfish and entitled and when she does, you just need to be there for her.”

  He nodded. “We all looked up to him, you know? When we were kids we would watch the young Prince Vargor ride into the village on his perfect white horse, and we’d heard stories of the library he was building up at the castle. He’d been presented to us like some kind of demi-god. Any man who could read and who collected books was someone more than human. The rest of us had all been raised to labour, like our fathers—and as much as we felt pride amongst ourselves, Prince Vargor and his friends looked down on us for it.”

  “Where did all his friends go?”

  Stag scoffed, “Where all fake friends go---into the air. They scattered like the four winds, claiming it was too dangerous to enter our realm what with the explosion in wolf population and the many attacks.”

  “So there are lands beyond the forest? You could leave if you wanted to?”

  Stag offered me a sad smile. “It doesn’t quite work like that. The princes and noble men move in a kind of pack, using their carriages and horses to travel the great distances, staying at each other’s homes along the way. Each realm is protected by a wall and you need special papers to get through. The borders are manned by guards with the latest weaponry. Travelling isn’t for the likes of me.”

  We conquered the brow of a hill and the warm yellow lights of the village greeted us. “Here we are—home,” he declared proudly.

  Nerves knotted in my stomach with the thought of Stag introducing me to his people. “Come on,” he said, tugging me along, “they’re going to love you, especially when I tell them how you have broken Prince Vargor’s curse. Haven’t you noticed? We’ve not seen one wolf during our entire journey!”

  I was embarrassed to admit I had been so wrapped up in Stag, I hadn’t.

  *

  The village was as welcoming as Stag had promised, and of course when he had regaled them with the story of my ‘heroic’ smashing of the wolf curse, there was much celebrating. In the end, we drank, ate, and danced until the early hours of the morning, when eventually, we made our way to the small cottage on the edge of the village that Stag called home.

  As we approached, I felt him stiffen.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, sensing the shift in his mood.

  “There are no lights and the chimney isn’t smoking.”

  He approached cautiously, pulling a large key from his pocket and turning it. As he walked through the door, he softly called out to his mother. He lit the oil lantern and left me standing in the middle of their humble sitting room whilst he went up the stairs to check on her.

  His cries filled the house. I remained where I was, not wanting to intrude. His mother was dead. I waited for what seemed like a year, until eventually, Stag returned down the stairs, his eyes red with tears, but his face strong.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say. “I’m so sorry.”

  He broke away. “You can sleep in Eleanor’s room. The linen is fresh,” he said, heading towards one of the doors. I followed behind him and took his hand as a I passed, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He leaned forward and kissed me on the top of the head and then softly closed the door, leaving me alone in yet another strange world, one where I’d seemingly fallen a little in love.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  The next day, Stag and Eleanor buried their mother. Prince Vargar surprised both of us by turning up to be by Eleanor’s side. Me and the prince would never be friends, but perhaps, with a lifetime of proving us all wrong, there might be a time when I could forgive him, even if I would never forget the tone of his voice, or the way he forced his tongue into my mouth.

  As for his mother, Queen Morag would always be my enemy.

  As we stood by the sad little grave, I couldn’t help but wonder if somehow all of it was interconnected. There was no end to Queen Morag’s evil cunning. I had a feeling Eleanor’s future mother-in-law would spend a lifetime punishing her in one way or another.

  Snow slid from a nearby branch causing all of them to turn.

  “The melt is happening, at last,” Prince Vargar stated.

  “Yes, everything worked out for the best,” Eleanor said, looking adorningly at Prince Vargar before remembering she was by her mother’s graveside and dropping her eyes. I felt Stag bristle and brushed the tips of his fingers with mine.

  “The wolves have gone. The prince has been cured of his curse. Sunning is coming,” Stag said to Prince Vagar. “Your mother made a promise to Neve. She said she would send her home.”

  “I’ll ensure that promise is kept,” Prince Vargar said, turning his head to me and nodding with respect. It was a small step in the right direction.

  “There is also something else I wished to speak to you about. I wanted to ask for your blessing for me to marry Eleanor.”

  Eleanor’s eyes burned brightly with love.

  “Today?” Stag asked, his brow furrowing. “You ask me this today, as we stand by our mother’s grave.”

  Prince Vargar blushed and Eleanor interjected, “Yes, today! My happiness is what mama would have wanted most in the world. We wish to be married within the month. The realm needs some happy news, and besides, Vargar and I have had to wait long enough for our happiness.”

  I could barely contain my words and in the end, I had to turn and walk away before I said something I couldn’t take back. Prince Vargar and Eleanor deserved each other. They were both vain and selfish at heart.”

  “Do as you both please,” Stag said, turning and walking after me.

  When Prince Vargar and Eleanor had left, we returned to the cottage, where Stag served out the stew he had prepared earlier in the hope Eleanor might have stayed home for the evening.

  “I didn’t want him eating at the table with you,” he explained, as we both glanced at the third empty setting. When Stag went to fetch the forgotten salt from the kitchen, I gathered the plate and cutlery and quickly placed them on the seat of the empty chair, tucking it out of sight under the table.

  “You think she’ll keep her promise to send me home?” I asked. Something pulled tight in my chest. I was going to leave Stag, and never see him again. I was surprised how much this thought distressed me.

  “I can’t see any reason why she wouldn’t.”

  “I’m going to miss you,” I said quietly.

  His eyes met mine and he smiled sadly. “Perhaps when we lifted Vargar’s curse, we created our own.”

  For the rest of the meal we talked about other things, anything we could in order to avoid the painful topic of my leaving.

  As Stag cleared the table, a knock at the door startled me and caused Stag to call out, “I’ll get it.”

  I watched as he travelled across the room and opened the door. My heart sank when I saw it was Queen Morag. She had come to fulfil her promise. It was too soon. I thought I’d have at least that night with him; a chance to say a proper goodbye.

  “Good evening, Neve,” Queen Morag said with a sickly smile. “I believe I have my end of a bargain to keep. Are you ready?”

  I looked to Stag who nodded sadly. “She’s ready. Her family are waiting for her.”

  The chair made an awful scrape as it moved across the stone floor. “I’m ready.”

  Queen Morag looked from Stag to me and then back to Stag. “I’ll give you a moment,” she said turning and heading out into the melting snows.

  “Come with me,” I blurted out. “Come back to my world.”

  His brow knitted together and he laughed. “Yeah, that easy, hey, chick?”

  “What’s here for you? Your mother has passed on, your sister is so wrapped up in the prince you’ll barely see her…”

  “What would I do? I only know how to work the forest.”

  I laughed. “We have forests, too,” I said. “Or building. My father owns a construc
tion company, you could learn to be a carpenter.”

  He took my face in his big hands and kissed me. It was a slow long sad kiss of goodbye. “You and I, Neve, I think we would have come to love each other very well.”

  “I’m sure of it.” I sniffed. “You’re not coming are you?”

  He shook his head. “This is my world.”

  “There’s nothing here for you, Stag. You deserved your own happiness,” I said sadly as I moved towards the door, stepped outside and followed in Queen Morag’s footsteps until I met her by an ancient tree.

  “Not that my words will mean much to you,” she began, “but I wanted to thank you for bringing my son back to me—even if your method was a little…extreme.”

  I shook my head. These people were something else. “I just want to go home.”

  My attention was pulled by the sight of Stag running across the snow towards us. “Take me with her,” he said.

  I stood on my tip-toes and threw my arms around his neck, covering him in kisses. “You’re sure? You really mean it? You’re going to come with me?”

  “Is it possible?” he asked Queen Morag. “Can I go with her?”

  She nodded. “It’s possible.”

  “And my sister?”

  “She makes my son happy, that is enough for me.”

  Stag sighed and looked back at the cottage wistfully. “Okay, let’s go before I have a chance to think about it properly and find a hundred excuses not to do it.”

  Queen Morag slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a handful of brown and white sticks. “When you want to travel between the two worlds, you simply snap the stick from the world you want to enter. The white ones are from our world, the brown ones are from Neve’s. Each time you travel, be sure to replace your stick.” She handed me a brown stick and the rest of the bundle to Stag.

  “Are you ready to go home, chick?” he asked.

  I nodded and then staring into each other’s eyes, we snapped our sticks.

  THE END

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