The feast House Coluc has prepared is meager at best. The time they were given to prepare before Lord Dres and his train of followers arrived wasn't enough to cook a proper feast. Instead, dishes that don't need cooking have been brought out while the cooks desperately rush to stoke the fires and get some soup boiling. Cold cuts of meat, fruit still in the peel, and hardtack are all that's being served with some sips of water to wash it down. The lady of the house begged her liege lord's apologies as she explained her last keg of beer was drank a fortnight ago and her few barrels of wine have been spoiled due to an error when they were corked. A storm blew in as soon as I was inside and settled (and while the train of soldiers was still slowly plodding along) and the soaked men didn't take well to being told they were being given cold meat and no mead.
Only the promise of soup and roast pig were enough to keep everyone from turning around and leaving. Now, every man, woman and child that followed House Dres on their march is crammed into a hall meant for a quarter of their number. Everyone is sucked in with the children on their mother's laps and still everyone gets an elbow to the side when their neighbor moves. I, like many others, am favoring leaning against a wall rather than cramming onto a bench. I ate before I left my lover, but I'll need my strength if I'm to ride to the second household she mentioned in the dead of night.
The werewolf skin will be soaked and reeking by now; still, I'd go through worse if it meant my lover didn't have to marry Hel Dres. The shrunken, feeble man is currently chewing a cold cut of sausage as water dribbles down his sunken chin. He seems kind enough from what I've seen of him; sadly, kindness itself isn't going to make me return to my beloved and tell her she needs to forsake me and marry someone she's never known. Besides, by this point there's a good chance the Khajiit is carrying my child. The last thing I'm going to let Hel Dres do is raise my bastard or, worse, kill them. I'm brooding and gnawing on a biscuit when the first course of soup finally arrives. Cheers shake the rafters of the tiny hall as serves rush up and down the tables to fill bowls.
A serving boy is kind enough to see me standing and bring a spare cup of soup over to me. I mumble my thanks and down the thin, watery onion mixture. The cheering soon turns to slurping and, soon enough, pleas for more. The next half an hour is a race between House Dres and the kitchen to see who can get rid of soup the fastest. Luckily for everyone, the kitchens keep up with demand and everyone's appetite for something warm is sated. A few legs of mutton and slabs of venison are brought out after the soup to give the pigs time to cook. I grab some mutton from a passing serving wench and gnaw it down to the bone.
The pigs are being brought out when Lord Dres rises from where he stands and bangs his cup on his table for quiet. Everyone in the hall, including those unfortunate enough to be lugging giant pigs, stops and gives him their full attention. Dres turns to Lady Coluc, but his words are meant for the entire hall.
"The feast you have given us has been a welcome reprise from the gruelling march we've been on. Warm food, a roof to keep the rain off, and the company of your ladyship have been more than enough to raise our spirits. I ask not as your lord but as a friend if my men and I might sleep this night beneath your hall and leave on the morrow.". Some quiet cheers and mumblings go up from the tables. Everyone would no doubt welcome the rest, but a night at Castle Coluc means more gruelling marching to make up for the lost time.
Thankfully, them staying the night gives me the perfect opportunity to slip off and reach the second house. It also means they'll be further behind and be more likely to become trapped by the frost. I'd had my doubts about the Khajiit's plan; now, it's coming together and I'm beginning to appreciate it. Lady Coluc rises, takes her lord in her arms, and speaks loud enough the dead could hear her.
"It would be a welcome honor to have m'lord sleep beneath our roof and rest his weary troops.". Some more quiet cheers and clapping goes up from the crowd. The servers carrying the pigs start moving and I push off from my wall. I'd like nothing more than to sink my teeth into some pork and get some sleep. Life is full of disappointments, though, and I ask a server where a privy is. The boy laughs and tells me I can piss outside. A kick to his ass gets him to stop laughing and sends him scurrying back to the kitchen. I shove my way outside and feel icy rain begin to bombard me. My cloak offers little protection as I pull it tight and pray I don't catch a cold. My horse is as miserable as I am as I mount up and point him northward. The werewolf hide underneath my saddle will suffice in the second trick if my lover is right.
A dark, cloudy spree of weather is the perfect time to trick some farmers into believing they've seen a lycanthrope tearing into their flocks. A ride that will take House Dres a week or more only takes me about three days. The riding is miserable since the storm never ceases and, even worse, my rations have mostly spoiled from the moisture. I'm down to biscuits and rain when I finally see Castle Rowan come out of the mist. The large, mostly abandoned castle sits atop a hill with its sparse holdings and people cluttered around the bottom of the hill. The only path large enough for House Dres and his entourage to take will force them to pass through the village at the bottom. If I can work them into a proper frenzy of fear, then Lord Dres will have no choice besides stopping and protecting his people.
Under normal times, Lord Dres would likely tell the villagers to seek out Lord Rowan and have him take care of any problem. A werewolf can't be taken care of by Lord Rowan. The man is impoverished and his household guard carry tin and iron if they're lucky. His people are likewise poor and any weapons they have are farm tools or clubs made of tree branches. Against a werewolf, House Rowan would make a tasty snack. Even his castle atop his hill can't properly protect anyone. The western side is completely collapsed and has wooden doors that lead into the castle showing, the gates are warped wide open, and the outer walls have crumbled in some places where a determined man could vault over them.
Locking his villagers in there to protect them would be like chaining a dog up outside to protect him from wolves. I've arrived when the rain is coming down hard and the sun can't penetrate the clouds. I hobble my horse to the ground, stash my weapons and boots that would make too much noise, and retrieve the werewolf skin my Khajiit lover gave me from her father's study. I crouch and begin walking towards the settlement. As I go, I scan the area as best I can with the rain and try to make out where I'd like to attack. All I've brought in terms of weapons is a dagger I didn't stash, so I'll need to surprise their herds before attacking. Watching a werewolf chase after a sheep for five minutes isn't very terrifying.
My luck is golden because I see two shepherds herding their sheep into their pen over by the eastern side of the village. I approach the pen as the men are further out rounding up some stubborn sheep. The sheep penned up pay me no mind and keep nibbling their grass. I vault inside, grab the nearest one, and messily tear his throat out with my dagger. Screams rise up as the other sheep panic at the sight of their fellow dying. I keep stabbing, tearing, and ripping into the sheep carcass. I even shove the werewolf's muzzle down into the blood to sell the illusion. I'm making sloppy, growling sounds when the shepherds finally come running back to see what's spooked their sheep. I keep my back to them and pretend I'm devouring their sheep for all I'm worth.
One bolts while the other screams at me. I leap up and turn with a flourish while making sure to keep myself well hidden within the pelt. I howl and vault over the pen to reach my claws at him. The second shepard bolts after the first. I vault back into the pen, slaughter a few more sheep, and break down the pen's gate to let the survivors flee. I want to terrify the village, but I don't want to harm their livelihood enough that they never recover. I slink off into the woods just as I see a few feeble torches appear in the rain. A mournful cry reaches my ears a few minutes later as I assume the shepherds find what remains of their precious flock.
I get my horse underneath some trees for shelter, eat another biscuit, and pass the time waiting. A few hours later, as I see a girl walking her goat near the edge of the village, I make my second move. This time, I come charging from the woods screaming and howling and flailing my arms around like crazy. The little girl spots me while I'm still far, far away and runs screaming with her goat hot on her heels. I go back to my hideout and wait for the hunters to come. The men go to where the "attack" happened, search for a few hours, and throw in the towel when they realize the relentless rain has washed away any tracks or scents. The final chance of the night presents itself when a boy comes to the edge of the woods with a small dagger.
He walks down a thin game trail and stops to check some traps along the way. Quickly, I scan the path he's taking and start jogging down beside it. I stop at the first trap that has a rabbit hanging from it, pluck the creature from the trap, and settle down in a crouch. I rip the little carcass apart and make sure it'll look like a werewolf devouring some prey. It's hard to hear over the rain, but the gasp the boy makes is loud enough to reach my ears. I give it a little grunt and snarl and flail my head before flipping around and charging him. The boy runs screaming all the way back to his home. I undo the werewolf skin as I return to my horse. Outriders from House Dres will be here soon and they'll return to their lord with tidings of a werewolf terrorizing a village.
By then, I'll be long gone and at House Arden giving Lady Arden a fake letter to present to Lord Dres. Then, once the letter is delivered, I can make the four day journey back to my beloved. If we're lucky, by the time the snow comes and slows House Dres to a crawl, she'll be swollen with my baby. If not, then I'll mourn for House Dres. After all, it's always tragic when a father outlives his son.
Author's Note:
What's that? I'm not dead? I know, shocking. So, the last time I updated a story was August of 2019. Last time I updated my profile was July of 2019. Honestly, I'd pretty much become what I swore to destroy: a writer who abandons their stories. What's that? Why the everloving hell am I back? Well, I don't have an answer. I've been attending college and dealing with my depression and today I just thought "I wanna write something". So, I fired up my laptop, read over my stories I haven't finished, and wrote out a chapter in less than an hour. Frankly, it feels good.
I also had over 200 unread messages dating back to 2017 I went through and opened without looking because my anxiety told me they were all hate mail. Idk if anyone even reads my works anymore tbh, but I wanna update and finish them in case someone finds them and reads them and wants to know what the ending is. So, expect updates on Wednesdays because those are the days I don't have college classes or work to occupy me. If you wanna message me at some point feel free. If we were friends on here before I went missing I wanna deeply apologize. I'd love to message all of you and apologize individually, but I know from the messages I DID look at some of you wouldn't welcome the message.
Until I update again or we meet in another life,
TheKhajiitWarrior