Alys Clare - The Enchanter's Forest

Then there was no more speech between them, just the sounds, soft at first but quickly becoming urgent, of two people who care deeply for each other setting about demonstrating their love. She had spread blankets on the grass and gently he laid her down upon them, cradling her head on one arm while with his free hand he traced the outline of her features, only then letting his fingers follow the line of her neck downwards until he was touching her breasts. Her response was swift and, delight flooding through him, he felt her sure touch on his chest, his belly and down into his groin. It was as if she remembered exactly what gave him the most pleasure; fiercely aroused, hungry for her, he sensed that she was as ready for him as he for her and it was soon over.

They lay wound in each other’s arms. Her head was on his chest — her hair was still damp — and he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. He had envisaged getting up, dressing in their undergarments and creeping in beneath the shelter to settle for the night beside Meggie, but, when he made a move to rise, she shifted her weight so that she lay right on top of him and he could not move.

He could just make out the laughter in her dark eyes. She said softly, ‘Spent and ready for your bed so soon, sir knight?’

To which, as he felt his body stir again, there was really only one answer.

Later, lying snug in the shelter with Meggie’s soft breathing and the gently rhythmic tearing of grass as the horses grazed nearby the only sounds, he had to say what was uppermost on his mind. ‘Joanna,’ he whispered, his mouth right up against her ear so as not to disturb the child, ‘should we have — I mean, I hope that I did not take another’s place out there just now.’ Full of confusion, he did not know what he was trying to say. Or, he thought honestly, the trouble was that he did know, all too well, but was afraid that he had not the right to ask.

There was a pause before she replied. Then — and he thought he heard the love in her voice — she said, ‘Josse, I understand what it is you want to know, or I believe that I do. You are asking whether or not there is another man in my life. It is not easy to answer you, for reasons that I hope to be able to make clear to you in time. I have lain with another since I lay with you’ — despite his best efforts he could not prevent his instinctive reaction, although he managed to restrict it to what sounded like a faintly disapproving grunt — ‘on two occasions. But’ — she hesitated, and he sensed that this was not easy for her — ‘it is not quite what you must be thinking. He — it was someone who is of great importance among my people and it’s as if I was being awarded a great favour by being the recipient of his attentions.’

‘He didn’t make you do something you were reluctant to do?’ He of all people, who knew the particular horrors of her past, needed to ask that.

‘No, dear Josse, I was as eager as he.’ She reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze, as if aware that her words would hurt. ‘He gave me this’ — Josse felt his hand being raised up to her neck, where she clasped his fingers around the pendant that she wore — ‘and I have his protection.’

‘It’s a bear claw, isn’t it?’ Josse said.

‘Yes. He is a bear man.’

There was silence as he tried to make sense of those last five words. Then: ‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s a power figure. Someone who has trained so extensively in the ways of our people that he has acquired strange abilities quite outside the realm of what humans usually are considered capable of. Including the ability to shape-shift and adopt the form of a bear.’

‘That’s impossible,’ Josse stated flatly.

Her only answer was a soft laugh. ‘Yes, Josse. Of course it is.’ Then she yawned, released his hand, turned on her side and, after a murmured ‘Goodnight’, settled herself for sleep.

A bear man. God’s boots, Josse thought, whatever will she have me believe next? He smiled; perhaps she had been teasing him, seeing how far-fetched a tale she could tell him and still be believed.

The problem with that was that, although he knew she would not hesitate to tease him about most things, her beliefs and the ways of her people were the exception. But a man who could turn into a bear! No, no, no, it was just not credible.

He lay, warm and comfortable, with the woman he loved and his beloved, adored child beside him, listening to the night forest sounds all around. The rushing water, the soft footfalls of the horses, the faint stirring of the wind in the treetops. There was the sound of a hunting owl. . and there the faint and distant squeak of some small rodent, the sure sign that the bird had just found its supper.

I am a long way from my known world out here, he thought sleepily. The rules by which I live my life may not apply here, where the spirits of the wildwood hold sway. His eyes closed and, in the sort of split-second dream that comes when sleep is close, there and gone before it is really registered, he seemed to see a misty-edged figure that appeared to be made of smoke, blurred and vague all but for the eyes, which were bright and pierced like fire. His own eyes wide open again, he stared out into the darkness, his heart thumping. But then, as sleep took him again, he remembered Joanna’s words: I have his protection .

They were Joanna’s words, aye, and he recognised them. Which was odd, really. It might have been because he was drifting into sleep, but he thought he heard the words spoken in slightly different form and in a man’s voice: You have my protection .

Funny what you dream about, Josse thought with a smile. Then he too was fast asleep.

A long way away, back in the Great Wealden Forest of southern England, a man went in peril of his life.

He was taking a risk this evening in riding alone but frequent habit had removed the threat of danger — they never saw a soul on the track — and now he was feeling all but invincible. It was his custom to ride home through the gathering darkness of the warm summer nights, talking idly with his companion when, as he usually did, he had one and relishing the exercise after a busy day, enjoying the soft dusk air on his face, the rapid and skilful swooping of the bats and the sounds of the forest as its inhabitants settled for the night.

It had been a good day. Well, they were all good days now. Everything was going smoothly and his predictions were proving to have been accurate, if a little on the cautious side. Oh, admit it, he said to himself, smiling broadly, it’s far, far better than I dared hope for and so far shows no signs of grinding to a halt.

He made a mental note to order more supplies. If he put in his request early tomorrow morning then with any luck the goods should arrive by-

There was a sound in the deep woods over to his left.

He drew his horse to a halt and sat quite still, listening.

Nothing.

But no, there was something. Was that a person, moving stealthily through the shadowed undergrowth. .?

Afraid now, he kicked his horse to a trot, then to a canter. Fool, he berated himself, so to ride your luck, when simply by making certain you obeyed your own rules, this could have been avoided!

This. What was this? Fighting down the panic, telling himself he was running like a frightened child away from some dread thing that wasn’t even there, he slowed to a walk and listened again.

He could hear no sound but those that he and his horse were making.

He smiled, shaking his head at his own foolishness. Soon be home now, he thought cheerfully, and what a welcome I’ll get when I put this little lot — he patted the heavy leather bags hanging from his saddle — down on the table before her. Her dark eyes will light up, she’ll tell me how clever I am, then she’ll get up, take my hand and walk me over to where she has set out good food and costly wine to greet my return.