HEYYY! IM SO SORRY ABOUT THE ERROR UPLOADING THIS CHAPTER. Now it's fixed and I'll be super sure to be careful not to let that happen again. Thanks for all your patience and SHOUTOUT to the reader who let me know (I really appreciate it).
I hope you all enjoy this chapter (now that you can actually read it)!
Failure. That's all he could think as he knelt before his altar. The candles made the Dragon appear to dance with fury at the failure of the assassin. He had been lucky no one had traced it to him. The Dragon had been protecting him and he couldn't fail him again. Not when there was so much at stake. The entire future of his country, all relying on him. This would take more cunning than he'd anticipated. But the Dragon was powerful and knowledgeable, and knew more than a mortal king. He knew that the most effective attacks come from within. He knew his prey would return to England and till then he must begin carefully setting his trap.
It wasn't long until snow finally came. The white flecks smothered the grassy fields and strangled the leaves from the trees. Hannibal's rides with Will still occurred but became less frequent. Will received more letters from Beverly, but their correspondence was unchanging except now they could discuss the snow.
The empty letters from Beverly, combined with the increased sense of entrapment brought about by the fallen snow, made Will feel antsy. There hadn't been any more assassination attempts but ever since the first one Will had been contemplating it. He couldn't ignore that both the unsettling Randall Tier and mysterious G.R.D. had followed Hannibal into the countryside.
Finally on a day when Hannibal was preoccupied with writing new legislature, Will was able to slip away. He snuck to the kennels and the kennel master's private quarters. Both were empty when he arrived; he'd timed it so Tier was taking the dogs on a walk. He checked that no one was nearby and quietly closed the door behind him.
First he searched the kennels but found nothing. He turned his attention to Tier's private quarters. Will recoiled when he opened the door. Tier gave off the impression of being excessively neat and put together but his room was a jumbled mess of chaos. All semblance of adhering to societal standards of cleanliness were gone. It strangely smelled stronger of dogs than the kennels. There was only one window that let in a thin stream of light. The room vaguely reminded Will of a bear's den, piled high with assorted things to make a crude barrier around the walls.
He was still careful to not displace the mess as he searched. Will didn't get the sense that it was a calculated mess but he refused to chance it. It was difficult searching through all the useless piles. He didn't find anything convicting or revealing. He was nearly done when he heard a dog bark in the distance. Will froze and put down the rusty cup he had been inspecting from the table. He started picking his way back to the door when he suddenly spotted the familiar brown bag that Hannibal had given Tier at the palace.
The dog barking got louder as he hurried to the bag. He had no way to conceal the bag, and by now he knew he'd have no way to get past Randall Tier without being spotted. Just as the kennel doors were being opened, he rushed to the window and tossed the bag outside. He heard the dogs rushing around and Randall yelling them back into their cages. He took a deep breath and stepped back into the kennel.
"Randall," he said. Randall looked up suddenly. He glanced between Will and his room.
"Sir Graham," he said straightening up. "Were you in my quarters?"
"Forgive me, I was looking for you," Will lied. Tier nodded but Will wasn't sure he believed him. "I came to check up on the wounded dog."
"Of course," Tier said, turning to the cages. He pointed to the third cage down. "The brown dog. You'll find his paw has fully healed."
Will kneeled down to peer into the cage. Tier had spoken truthfully for the dog was chasing its own tail, no limp visible.
"Impressive," Will said, being careful to keep voice calmer than he felt.
"Thank you," Randall said, "I'm glad you found what you were looking for."
Will shot a look at Randall. He stood up, but Randall was still taller than him by a few inches. Even so, he looked unflinchingly at the man.
"Indeed," Will said finally turning away. He could feel Randall's fiery gaze as he left.
"I'm sure the king will be pleased," he called after Will. The comment bothered Will because he was sure there was a threat of some sort hidden in his words. Will hoped that the risk had been worth it when he walked around back to retrieve the bag.
He then took it back into the castle and he locked himself in an empty room so he could examine it. The room had two gaping windows and its walls were adorned with the mounted heads of animals and one stuffed Wildcat. A bearskin rug warmed the floor. The many watching eyes in the room made Will uncomfortable, but he shook the feeling off.
He emptied the contents of the bag onto the table. It was much emptier than he had been hoping, but it was still fulfilling. There were a few scattered coins and some clumps of bloody fur. It was clear that the bag had been filled with coins, a bribe of some kind perhaps. The clumps of fur connected Randall to the murder of Joseph Gardner, especially because the fur looked almost identical to those found at the scene. He decided he'd send a sample to Beverly to discover whether or not the fur matched.
Knowing it'd take a while for the letter to send and for Beverly to analyze the fur, Will relieved his impatience by visiting Abigail again later in the week. He also didn't overlook the fact that the stables were next to the kennels. Not wanting to make Abigail question his reason for visiting, Will started their conversation as usual. After they'd talked for a while and Abigail was relaxed, he asked her about Randall Tier.
She paused like a startled deer, and Will had to wonder why she was so taken aback. He'd tried hard not to make the question deviate from their conversation too much, he hadn't thought it sounded particularly peculiar and certainly not shocking. After the moment, Abigail regained control of her expressions and changed it to one of indifference.
"I don't know much about him," she said. Will was keenly aware of the forced steadiness of her voice. "He keeps to himself."
"Have you ever talked to him?" Will asked.
"No," Abigail replied, too quick and sure. "I don't go to the kennels and he never comes here."
Will was sure he hadn't mentioned that Randall worked in the kennels.
"But you've seen him about?" Will asked. Abigail nodded and Will could tell she was close to changing the conversation.
"Well, yes. The kennels are adjacent."
"How long has he been working at the castle?" Will asked, daring to pry a little deeper.
"I'm not sure," Abigail said, but after seeing a tinge of suspicion in Will's eyes added, "but I think he came around the time the king arrived. He may have been in the travel party from London."
That agreed with Will's theory about Randall Tier, however he was confident he would have recognized Randall if he had been in the group.
"I don't think those dogs are very friendly," Abigail said, swiftly changing the topic. Will wasn't surprised, but he'd gotten some helpful information.
"Dogs are like horses," Will explained, gently running his hands along his horse's neck. "They just need to get comfortable with you first."
"That's the problem," Abigail explained. "Until they're comfortable with you, both dogs and horses will attack if frightened."
"It's natural instinct for them," Will agreed then with a smile added, "but that's why we've domesticated them both."
Abigail also smiled, but shook her head playfully.
"You can't ever truly domesticate an animal," she said. "They'll always have some animalistic tendencies in them."
"I suppose that's what makes them good hunters," Will said. His smile had suddenly been replaced by a frown as he furrowed his eyebrows looking at the ground.
"Are you alright?" Abigail asked, her voice diminished to a whisper. He nodded.
"Yes, sorry just...distracted," Will said, his focus returning back to the present conversation.
"You should get more sleep," Abigail said. "It'll make you feel better."
"If I could sleep, believe me I would," Will said. He smiled once more. "I should go now. Until next time."
"Next time," Abigail said.
As Will trudged through the thick layers of snow accumulated by the various snowfalls, his mind traveled far from the still countryside to the tumble and forceful London murder of Dr. Gardner. Before he pictured a pack of wolves, or perhaps a larger rogue, but now this vision was morphing into a man. However the transformation didn't finish. Above him the sky was darkening and the moon just beginning to emerge. He felt his nails elongating into claws and fangs pierce through his gums. Fur overflowed from his wool coat. He let out a howl into the night sky.
This wolfman was the answer. Will pondered how Tier may have fabricated it. Dog skins or wolf pelts sewn together would work. Perhaps bear claws fashioned into gloves? Finding this wolf suit would be the next step.
Will felt a sense of triumph fill him as he breathed in the sharp winter air. The hard part now would be convincing Jack of his discovery. He pulled his jacket in tighter to ward off the chill wind that was coming in. He expected a new snowfall soon. Once he'd reached the castle he stomped the snow off his boots, sending an echo through the cavernous halls. Hannibal would be aware of his presence now.
He preceded to gather the daily reports from his guards. Everything checked out. One merchant had visited the castle to deliver spices bought from the nearby town, but the spices had been tested for poison and the merchant had returned from where he came. A butler had been caught stealing a spoon. Illegal, but harmless. The only other note of worth was one of the guards near the northern wall thought he had spotted a bear in the forest. The man wanted to alert the castle. Will paused for a moment before deciding to issue a warning to the castle to be aware and to avoid traveling outside at night. This remained on his mind when he met Hannibal for dinner.
"Tonight I made traditional roast beef with yorkshire pudding. A side of spiced carrots and peas," Hannibal announced. Will watched the steam rise from the food and thin before completely evaporating into the cold air. Hannibal began to serve it.
"There was a bear sighting," Will said. Hannibal raised his eyebrows.
"Strange, to see a bear this late in the season. I'd have thought they'd all be hibernating," Hannibal said. "It'd be best to issue a warning to the castle to be safe."
"My thoughts exactly," Will said. He began to cut the meat. The question of whether or not the merchant had arrived home entered his mind, but he pushed it away and took a bite. He looked up, not surprised to see Hannibal watching him closely. Will had long ago noticed he enjoyed studying people when they ate his meals, especially Will.
"You have been doing your job exceedingly well," Hannibal said. The comment made Will pause. He wasn't sure what he'd done differently today to elicit this remark.
"I'm glad to be fulfilling your expectations," he said. "However, I will not be able to rest easy until all sources of danger have been extinguished."
"The assassin?" Hannibal asked. Will looked up at Hannibal.
"Precisely," he said. He didn't care to elaborate. Hannibal swallowed a piece of meat.
"Did he work in the stables?" Hannibal asked. Will frowned and the frighteningly calm look Hannibal had on across the table made him pause. His mind raced to think if he'd accidentally revealed something in his words or mannerisms and to understand Hannibal's intentions behind the words.
"No," Will said. The words felt pasty in his mouth, as if they were a sticky dough.
"Then why have you been visiting the stables so often?" he asked. Will wasn't sure how Hannibal knew that, but he remembered the close proximity of the kennels to the stables. The expression on Hannibal's face continued to bother him but he couldn't explain what was off about it. Hannibal took a long sip from his wine glass. Will's remained untouched and his food was quickly cooling. As Hannibal set his glass back down, Will understood what was bothering him. Underneath his smooth demeanor, Hannibal was hiding anticipation.
Will stood up, smashing against the table and knocking his wine glass over. Anger boiled in his chest.
A scream pierced the night and seized Will's heart. His rage chilled into fear and he rushed out of the room, not waiting for Hannibal's reply. The chambers echoed with his footsteps, but he could hear the scream echoing in his ears. He didn't bother to grab a coat as he threw open the main doors. A shivering wind blew into his face, bringing snow into the castle. After a step into the dark unknown, he took a breath to absorb the scene. Fresh snow was falling, blurring the image of the wide white expanse before him. In the thick snowfall, he couldn't even see the edge of the forest.
Will bit down the pain from the frosty wind. Even without being able to see ten feet in front of himself, Will was able to find the familiar path towards the stables. The snow had soaked his pants below knee and was beginning to seep into his leather boots when he saw the strange black crumpled lump lying in the snow. It was so still that at first he thought it was a rock, but from the churning in his stomach he knew it couldn't be. As he took a step closer, he saw black splotches around the misshapen form and he rushed forward.
He plowed through the snow, nearly tumbling over himself. When he was close enough, he fell to his knees and desperately grabbed for the still form. His hands tightened around fabric and he pulled. The body hanging in the clothes was dragged around with it, and Abigail's head rolled around to stare beyond Will. His heart seized and his hand tightened on the fabric.
Attacked by a sudden sense of horror, Will pulled Abigail closer so he could cradle her body. His breathing was rapid and let out clouds of water vapor like a chimney. He rocked her back and forth while searching desperately for a pulse. He realized with a start that his hands were covered with some black liquid, until he realized that it only looked black in the moonlight. Will pulled his hand back from her chest and realized with a start that it was soaked with blood. He tore apart her cloak until the deep crimson streaks across her chest could be seen.
The claw marks were deep and Will could see her heart was missing from the gaping wound in her chest. He closed his eyes and clutched her cold body tighter. It wasn't until he heard the low growl that he looked up.
At first Will didn't notice anything, but upon closer inspection he could make out a pair of yellow eyes watching him from the forest. He followed them as they weaved through the trees, slowly getting closer. Will's mouth turned down and he stared with concentrated ire at the beast. The hunter and hunted held eye contact for a long moment when time seemed to halt and the very snow paused mid-fall.
Then the beast erupted from the trees into the exposed clearing. It bounded on all four legs towards Will, who was struggling to unhook Abigail's cloak. He unclipped it just as the monster sprung. Will flung the heavy fabric up like a matador with a charging bull and the creature ran into it. It stumbled around, thrashing violently in an attempt to get the wool off, but to no avail as its claws kept getting stuck.
Will watched it for a few moments, finding momentary solace in the pleasure of its disorientation. Before it could free itself, Will kicked the beast to the ground. He heard a whimper before it began growling again. It lashed at him, but Will dug his knee into its abdomen and punched its nuzzle. He pressed his arm across its neck to stop it from jerking so much. With his other hand, he ripped a small part of the cloak off so he could peer into its face and see the man behind the mask.
"Why did you kill her?" Will hissed. "Did Hannibal tell you to? Like he told you to spy on me?"
Randall Tier laughed, blood coating his teeth as he smiled up at Will.
"I wasn't the one spying on you," he whispered, his words distorted and mucky as if his mouth and tongue had swollen or he'd forgotten how to speak. His nostrils flared as he bared his dripping teeth and nodded his head towards Abigail. "She was."
Will must have made an expression of disbelief because Randall smiled at him with satisfaction. He also didn't realize that he'd loosened his grip, and suddenly Tier was able to push him off. He pinned Will to the ground. Will's face was pushed into the hard lower layer of ice and his stomach was pressed against the ground.
"If you want to know the truth," Tier said. "Hannibal told me to kill her after she confided to him that you were aware of my...particularities."
Will squirmed underneath Randall's engineered claws that slowly dug into his back. Randall's words were difficult to decipher, but Will was understood that Hannibal had ordered Abigail's death and subsequently Will's own in order to keep his deadly habits secret. Randall leaned closer, resting one paw next to Will's shoulder.
"You wouldn't believe how quickly she betrayed you," he growled. Will curled his lips and with a yell, shoved his shoulder into Randall's paw and threw him off balance. The ice was slippery enough to make him fall on his side. Will scrambled up and dug his knees firmly into the ground on either side of Randall, so his exposed stomach was facing the night sky.
Without thinking, Will began to punch him and didn't stop. Blood splattered from his nose and one eye puffed up. Will continued to beat him. Then he took Randall's head in his hands and began to throw it into the ground again and again until his wolfish smile had disappeared. Finally he was sedated enough that he didn't move or fight back when Will stopped punching. He just breathed roughly through his broken nose. Will guessed that he was trying to say something, but he didn't care enough to listen. Instead he started unhooking one of Randall's claws. Will carefully fastened it onto his own hand. It wasn't until then that Randall seemed to comprehend his plan.
"Please," he managed through a fractured jaw and clumsy tongue. "W-wait. I-"
"Goodbye Randall Tier," Will said slowly and deliberately. He raised his now clawed hand, and plunged it into Randall's chest. The warm blood overflowed as Will squeezed his hand around Randall's heart and pulled. Randall's non-swollen eye was wide and pleading, but now it was too late. He choked on his own blood, as Will held the heart in the air victoriously before collapsing into the snow.
He laid beside the two blood-covered bodies, his heavy-breathing sending puffs of vapor into the night sky. The heart was now cold and he let it slip from his palm. When he finally convinced himself to look up he could just make out the full moon looking on from above. His eyes then moved to the only other source of light, a castle window. From it, he could see a silhouette of someone watching him.
With immense difficulties, Will pulled himself up and dragged his legs through the high snow leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind him. No one was in the foyer when he reached it; in fact the castle door was still open from when he'd left. He wiped his feet on the rug as the melted snow from his boots and hair pooled into a puddle. Then he noticed Hannibal standing at the top of the stairs, still dressed in his finery from dinner. Will's anger returned with a flair.
"If you weren't satisfied with my services," he said, flicking a piece of damp hair from his eyes. "You could have just told me."
A smile peaked at the corner of Hannibal's mouth, but he didn't move from his vantage point. Will wiped his jaw with his sleeve to remove something wet, not sure if it was snow or something else. Hannibal watched his moves closely, as if looking for some evident change in his mannerisms.
"Your services have been much appreciated," Hannibal explained. "And clearly, since it seems you have managed to kill the threat."
Will's angry pout slowly melted as his eyes widen with realization. He took a step forward.
"You wanted me to kill Randall Tier," he thought outloud. And suddenly the encounter was much clearer and he saw Hannibal's true intentions. But Will had been a fool, and he hadn't understood the signs until now. He'd played perfectly into Hannibal's plans. He clenched his fist, knowing that it was now too late to save Abigail and far too late to undo what he'd done to Randall. Shivers ran down his spine, making him feel faint. The coldness seemed to have seeped into his bones and was only affecting him now that he'd returned to the warmth of the castle.
Will tried to mutter something about Hannibal being guilty for Abigail's death, even though he felt as guilty as if he'd been the one to kill her. He was too disoriented to see Hannibal stepping quickly and lightly down the steps. Just as Will's legs crumbled, Will attempted to cling to the tapestry hanging on the wall. Hannibal arrived just in time to catch Will and stop the tapestry from falling with him. Hannibal held onto Will, even though he tried to push him away. Will thrashed his legs while shivers shook his body.
"Your lips are turning blue," Hannibal said, his mouth frowning with displeasure. Will didn't make any notion of hearing him and only tried once more to form the words You killed Abigail. His fingers clutched at Hannibal's cloak, both attempting to hang on and somehow inflict some kind of revenge. Yet, in Will's rapidly depleting state he was unable to accomplish either. Finally, he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. Hannibal was muttering something, but all Will could hear in his head was you killed Abigail, but I killed Randall Tier.