The Key to Eve
a fantasy
11
All Hallows’ Eve
DIRE WOLF PUPS at six months are as large as a fully grown grey wolf, so seeing them come at him, deaf to his commands, made Peregrine step back. At that moment, the pack of adult dire wolves materialized around him. They were swift and sure. Three wolves leapt behind the pups, trapping them between the three wolves attacking from the front. There were snarls and yelps, but in only a few seconds, the pups lay lifeless on the ground, their throats torn out by their own parents.
The wolves weren’t done yet, though. They turned toward the retreating men and dogs and bounded toward the large man in front, still holding the rope leashes. There were some few thrown stones from the other retreating men, but left on his own with the pack of dire wolves meant the big man was not long for this world. He was borne to the ground with jaws clamping on all his limbs. Br’er Wolf raised a massive paw and when it descended, disemboweled the still living strongman. He did not live long after that, though, as the wolves tore at his flesh, each making sure it had devoured an organ of their enemy, who had cost the lives of their pups.
The bloody mass was left in the middle of the road as the wolves returned to circle their dead pups. As one, they lifted their heads to the sky and howled. It was said that the howl of a dire wolf could freeze its prey a mile away. The six, mourning their stolen pups, sent shivers up the spines of the men and dogs who had retreated to the tavern and the inn.
“Farewell, Talker,” the alpha wolf said, turning to Peregrine. “We leave now and take our mourning to the mountains where we will again hunt and breed.” As one, the wolves turned and loped off into the forest.
No one stirred in the town, believing they were safe indoors. Peregrine returned to the stable and retrieved a shovel. He went off a ways into the forest and dug a deep hole, then retrieved the bodies of the cruel man and the three pups. He buried them and swept the road so all trace of the battle was gone. After returning the shovel, he went off to wash his clothes clean of the blood in the river. Then he settled to sleep in the shelter of a nearby leaning rock.
A black cat had watched him from the top of the wall and followed him to the river. She paced around the edge of the clearing.
“Goodnight, sister,” Peri said, nodding to the cat. She disappeared into the bushes between the river and the old mansion.
Peri felt a cold whisper he could not discern as he pulled his blanket around him. Somehow his sleep was peaceful. He felt he was being watched over.
Early in the morning, Peregrine decided he would still need to stay in the town, but he was not sure how he would be welcomed. So, he did what any sensible man would do and went fishing. He had hung his clothes from a branch to dry. So, he waded naked into the river.
For Peri, who had learned to fish from Br’er Bruin, fishing meant wading into the river and reaching in to grab flashing silver fishes as they swam by looking for their own breakfast. He grabbed a fish, slammed its head on a nearby rock, and tossed it onto the shore. Then he grabbed another. By the time Peri had a dozen fine fish on the shore, he noticed movement in the bushes and saw the eyes of several cats watching him.
“Good morning, sister felines,” he said. “Would you like to feast on one of these fine fish?”
He drew his knife—a gift, he thought, from the butcher’s daughter after they’d spent a fine night together. At least he thought it had been a fine night. Like all the others, he really couldn’t remember it, or the name of the girl. He only remembered her giving him the knife. He quickly slit and gutted one of the fish, opening it and pulling out the bulk of its bones. These he tossed back into the water. He left the flayed fish on the shore, wrapped the rest of his catch in his blanket, dressed in his dry clothes, and headed toward the town again. The cats barely waited for him to leave before they were all over the fish for breakfast.
Peri entered the tavern by the rear door and looked around. A few men were in the tavern eating breakfast, but as he watched, two of them drank down the last of their beer, grabbed their packs and their dogs, and left.
“Would you like some fish for breakfast, Lorelei?” he asked, proud to have remembered the barmaid’s name.
“Ah, Peregrine. I was afraid you’d never come back. Such strange stories I heard when the men came in from their night hunt last night. More than one had shit in his pants. The stories they told were a terror! A specter commanding a pack of dire wolves attacked and killed some. No one is sure how many. Someone went out this morning, but found no trace of the big man who had dire wolf pups. Some say the wolves dragged him back to the mountains with their pups. Others assumed he’d managed to flee, and all decided they should do the same.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Peri said innocently. “I camped by the river last night and thought I’d bring you fish this morning.”
“Gut them and clean them. Once these ruffians are all gone, I’ll put them on to cook. We’ll open the doors and see if any decent people of the village will return to the tavern.”
And so it was. The townspeople noticed the exodus of fortune-seekers and smelled the fish frying. They poked their noses in the door and then rushed in to partake of the feast. It seemed there was plenty for everyone who showed up, and like the tale of the stone soup, other food showed up as well.
“This fish would be truly remarkable if only there was a loaf of bread,” said one of the villagers. As if anticipating the request, the baker arrived with fresh loaves.
“My Ma always served mushrooms and spargel with fish,” one dreamed. Immediately, two women arrived in the tavern with fresh vegetables.
“Ah! Such a fine meal has never been served in Tumwater,” said the village elder. “If only we had a pie to share for dessert.”
The daughter of the miller appeared with two pies her Ma-Ma had made. And more showed up all morning long.
Words were whispered at first and then the news that the ruffians had left the village was celebrated. Peri served many tankards of ale to the happy villagers, none of whom noticed a black cat sitting in the rafters of the great room.
Boris Dremel, who had lost all his pigs to the undisciplined dogs, thought there might be some hogs who had escaped into the forest and he might go out to see if he could round any up. He was warned to beware of the wild boar. Peregrine volunteered to help him round up his missing pigs and speculated the wild boar might be a good addition for improving the bloodline.
The hunt was organized. Peri helped to track down the feral pigs and convinced the old boar there was a life of leisure and breeding to have in the sty.
At dinner, the candlemaker announced she would be getting rid of her supply of makeshift weapons, and if any townspeople wanted some, she would give them away with the honest purchase of a candle. The baker said she would return to baking bread early in the mornings and people greeted the news gladly.
And so it was that the town seemed to return to normal in a day.
But, of course, that day was the last day of October, and nothing was really normal. Once the pigs had been rounded up and bread and candles had been purchased, people hurried home to lock their doors and sprinkle salt along the thresholds and window sills. Even Lorelei sprinkled salt across the tavern door to ward off both unfriendly spirits and any new influx of adventurers.
Peri returned to the river where he settled in for the night.
Peregrine had spent many nights camped in the wild, sometimes with other animals for company. One thing he had learned was to open his senses before he settled down and make sure his camp was safe. This night, All Hallow’s Eve, his peace was disturbed. He sat on his bed of dry leaves and waited—for what, he was not sure.
It was the witching hour. The full moon hung low above the branches, flecked by clouds passing by. The night had grown chill. Before the animal talker, there appeared a dark shape moving toward him.
“You’ve chased away the fresh blood in this town,” a whispering voice came from the shroud. “You’ve no idea how many of the adventurers who abandoned their quest over the past year have found their end in my embrace.”
“You are no specter,” Peri said, trying to reach into the vacant mind of the shape. “Vampire. Do you think you can suck my blood?”
Peri had very little to defend himself with—just the knife he used to fillet fish. He would not simply acquiesce as the vampire sucked his blood, however.
“Someone must feed me.”
“Not here. You must leave. Follow the evil men who have abandoned the area.”
“You are here.” The vampire moved closer, reaching his arms toward Peri. Peri swung his blade with a swish, but did not make contact. He jumped, placing his back against the stone behind him. The vampire jumped forward. Peri could feel his cold breath as they began to grapple. His knife made contact many times, but did not seem to slow the vampire’s intent.
The vampire managed to knock the knife from Peri’s hand and Peri slapped against a carved shape in the massive stone.
A screech cut through the midnight air and a shadow seemed to emerge from the stone into the clearing. A massive black cat with an eagle’s head and wings attacked the vampire. Peri fell, not sure if they were really fighting over him for dinner. It was not long, however, before the gryphon latched onto the vampire with its claws and, with a mighty beat of its wings, lifted from the ground with its prey in its grip.
The vampire screamed and cursed, changing shape to that of a huge bat, but the gryphon kept its grip. After flying high into the air, the monster and prey dove toward the ground in a streak. They hit the massive stone together and disappeared into it, the carving in the stone having changed slightly to show the gryphon holding a bat in its claws.
“Ah! At last, my prince has come! You, sir vampire, shall live in my embrace forever,” whispered a chill voice surrounding the clearing.
Peri stepped back and sat heavily on his bed of leaves.
“Thank you, Princess,” he whispered.
He was scratched from his battle, but not seriously injured. Exhausted, he stretched out and pulled his blanket over himself. In the darkness, he saw the slits of dark eyes watching him. It did not take long before he realized a cat had observed all. He reached in his pack for an oilcloth wrapped bit of fish.
“I’ve not much, Sister Feline,” he said, “but I brought a little fried fish with me. If you’d like some, I’ll share with you. I know you’d rather have fresh than fried, but I can catch some more fresh in the morning. It seems all the hunters who invaded the town only wanted warm blood and forgot the abundance of the river.”
The cat said nothing in return, which Peri had long learned to expect from cats. She simply sat a safe distance away and waited for Peri to spread out the fish for her. Then she gingerly approached and snatched a single piece of fish before retreating again.
“It’s All Hallows’ Eve, you know,” Peri said as he settled back to go to sleep. “Some folks would be nervous about keeping company with a black cat on such a night. I don’t know. I find the company of animals to be singularly comforting. Most are much better company than people. Or maybe it’s just that I never learned to talk to people. I suppose that’s why even ghosts find me boring.”
“Not all of us,” whispered the chill voice in the darkness.
“Meroow,” the cat said without really making much sense.
“Yes,” said the voice, “I have mine, now you can have yours.”
“I hope we’ve seen the last of the fortune-seekers and brigands and monsters here. I wonder why the people of the town never banded together to get rid of them before. Everyone seems happy enough they are gone. I suppose the rumor of a pack of dire wolves patrolling the area might dissuade some from attempting the journey now.
“Perhaps we should spread that rumor around, though. And the story of a gryphon and a ghost protecting the town. Of course, the wolves have gone. They were here to save their pups who had been captured last spring. Save them? I should like to have saved them, but you can’t argue with the instincts of the pack. They believed the only way to keep the pack from the hands of man was to kill those who had fallen prey.
“From a strictly human perspective, I find that hard to take. From a dire wolf perspective, not so difficult. You know, I met a large cat a couple of years ago. A lynx. I discovered he had recently killed and eaten one of his kits. Ma Lynx had sent him away and was protecting the rest of her litter. I think if I had a child, I would care for it as deeply as I cared for its mother.”
The black cat had moved closer and Peri slowly lifted his fingers to scratch behind her ears. Her purr filled the clearing.
“I am so tired after the adventures of the past few days. You can stay if you like, but I’m off to sleep.”
The cat curled up on his chest and soon both were fast asleep.
