Chapter Ten: A Lady's Request
As we traveled east across Cyril, little separated us from the forest country in the north. Only a few settlements, mostly families making a living on raising livestock, were dotted here and there on the gently rolling plains. There were abundant lush grasses for animals to feed on. It grew so high in some places it brushed the undersides of our horses.
It was also very rainy. I was glad Sangrel insisted on purchasing the heavy oilskin cloaks from the last tiny village we visited. It kept us warm and dry and covered a good deal of the horses too.
The closer we got to the forest, the more constant the downpour became. What should have been a two day trip became three, for we had to zigzag to different shelters to rest and dry off. Sangrel knew the way fairly well, for he had traversed it a few times to visit his brother. Whenever I thought we would never escape the rain he would lead us to an outcropping of rock just big enough for two riders and their horses, or a lone pinion tree with a wide protective canopy.
The morning of the third day the forest country began immediately with a thick line of trees, like a protective wall. We paused at the edge to rest a moment before entering. Sangrel fished inside his cloak for his amber glass.
"This lens used to belong to my brother," he said. "It is a royal treasure traditionally given to the third son of the king for safekeeping. He let me borrow it when I last visited." He smiled wistfully. "I've never been able to decide if I am the third now."
"You can't take your brother's place," I answered, the sting of Keith's passing still sharp. A violent peal of thunder interrupted us, the horses shifting uneasily.
"Stay close," I heard my friend say. "These woods swallow men whole. It is far too easy to get lost." Holding the glass to his eye he entered, leading the way through the dripping trees. I kept Kuma's nose on Epona's tail, determined not to lose my way.
I felt uneasy amongst the tightly knit branches and trunks when normally I enjoyed being in the woods. An hour in I heard whispers, singsong chanting so far on the edge of my hearing that I wasn't sure if it was just in my head or not.
More than once Sangrel had to get my attention as I began to slip from whatever invisible path he was tracking. Yet I could see that he too was struggling to focus. There were just too many alluring groves and dark thickets the farther we went. Motes of light played about the heads of our fatigued horses and shadows jumped on the edge of our vision. The Hero dared not call for a rest the whole time, even as the sun slipped past its zenith. We kept pressing forward desperately, keeping our eyes open for some trace of the village of the Lady of the Wood.
At some point we encountered a crumbling stone wall and followed along it, Sangrel turning to tell me that we were close. He reached out to touch the welcome surface and unknowingly his hand brushed against a dark purple flower. He retracted his limb with a sharp hiss, the malevolent prickly bud glistening triumphantly with red fluid.
I asked wearily, "what is it?"
Sangrel shook his head, putting his mouth to the wound. "I don't know. I hope it's not poison." To be sure, he drew some of his blood out and wrapped the wound.
We continued a little farther before a man in a burgundy cloak on foot darted out from the trees in front of us.
"Who goes there?" he cried, a crossbow already locked on us. I noticed he was quite an old man, dull green eyes set in a tired face surrounded by a mane of shaggy hair and a long beard.
Sangrel raised his empty hands, bowing his head in greeting. "Ho, Sir Luz. It is I, Sangrel Aurea, brother of Lord Sal and this is my companion, Link of Hyrule."
Sir Luz seemed relieved. "I apologize, prince," he said, pointing the crossbow away. "There is a great crisis in the village and we are all very much on edge. But you must be tired from wandering all day. Come back with me."
We gratefully followed the old forest knight, the woods not nearly as ominous. Sangrel had been right. The village was fairly close.
There were no guards at the gates, the iron doors swinging on their hinges, casting long shadows in the afternoon sun. We entered and I saw neat stone houses set amidst soft waving grasses. My friend tugged at the neck of his tunic, looking uncomfortable.
Our horses were taken to the stables and Sangrel and I Followed Sir Luz through the cobbled main square to the largest building in town, the Great Hall. At first it looked like a half-ruined fort, the towers and upper portions of the walls knocked away, leaving the lower rooms still intact, crowned by a ragged edge of stonework. It looked as if several great trees had been convinced to lean together to form a peaked roof right in the center of the structure.
Inside I was amazed by the beauty of the hall. There was no roof, save the cover that the boughs of the trees provided. Hanging down on long chains, lanterns of sheet copper with patterns punched through them lit the green and white marble floor.
I noticed the servants were on edge, nearly bumping into each other as they hurried to and fro from the rooms and hallways that connected this main room. I saw a couch positioned at the far end where there was hung an ornate tapestry, as well as less ornate seats along the walls. A very beautiful woman sat on the couch, listening to another knight who knelt before her.
The noble woman was clearly distressed. Her hair, dark and thick, looked like it had been pulled by nervous fists and was unkempt. Her eyes were large and brown, rimmed with red.
She did not rise, and without seeing Sangrel and me, asked in a worn voice for a report from Luz.
"My lady," he said bowing low, "I have brought two travelers."
The lady looked up immediately, her eyes settling on Sangrel first.
"Sangrel, brother, you have grown! It has been many seasons since the last summer you stayed here. And now you come to my door at this time, but it is impossible that you could have heard…"
"Lady Petalwood," Sangrel said. "We have come for a matter for the king. But we did hear of some crisis from your knight and we offer ourselves for your use in whatever capacity."
The woman stared at him a moment, and what looked to be relief and resolve settled onto her face.
"I know what he wants," she croaked. "But I am in need and require a warrior with absolute courage and cunning."
"I see," Sangrel said, stepping closer. "Tell me, lady, what is your trouble."
"Forgive me," she sniffed, sitting up straighter. "Yesterday my little son disappeared and despite our efforts, we cannot find him and I fear I have lost him."
As I listened I noticed a thick bandage on her ankle. I surmised that she had been injured in the effort to search for her son and I felt instant sympathy.
"Help me," she pleaded, "and I will give the king what he wants."
To my surprise Sangrel fell to his knees clumsily. "No," he gasped. "I'll do it because you need my help, not for any payment. We'll discuss that later…later when…" He did not finish, instead tumbling forward, and I realized he had lost consciousness.
*
(a/n: In my mind, Lady Petalwood looks quite like Penelope Cruz, late twenties. Please review. Honest opinions welcome.)