Chapter 4 - The Wake

Nelly awoke to the sound of the door slamming open and, as her eyes opened, she was left blinking as the bright morning light streamed into the cottage. She grunted and squinted to make out the looming figure silhouetted in the doorway. It was Falltrick lumbering in, making no attempt at subtlety, probably deliberately. She muttered a curse in irritation. It felt like she had been dragged out of some deep dark pit so heavily she had been asleep and she could feel stiffness in her muscles.

It was still early, she could tell that from the angle of the sunlight streaming in. 

The events of the previous day were coming back to her. The ill-fated expedition across the valley... desperation of the fight in the cave... the death of her husband... Dohn... 

... yesterday her husband's death had barely registered. She must have been stunned, overwhelmed by the events... the experiences... the adrenaline.. the fear...

... but now, now she had slept. Now she was home again, alone. And, at last she could feel deeply the passing of her soulmate, her lover. The great tidal wave of sorrow and loss and regret...

But she felt nothing, still.

... nothing for Dohn, at least...

... but rather her mind was turning instead to the bestial presence brooding in her barn...

Esmeia followed Falltrick in, looking annoyed and Nelly wondered what time she had got up at with a vague recollection of the other woman spooning her in bed the previous night. Maybe that had been a dream as well. She'd had some wild ones. And she had managed to wake up quite horny, she realised.

"Sorry, I tried to be quiet," said Esmeia pointedly, her annoyance was aimed at Falltrick, Nelly reckoned, as she barged past the big man, "I've brought breakfast." She dropped a parcel on the table.

Nelly would have been happy with another few hours, or maybe a day of sleep, to herself, but Falltrick after briefly casting his eyes around the cottage interior said: "I've got some lads together to go get Dohn. Meeting at the square in an hour. Esmeia can stay and watch the prisoner.

"Be there," he added with unnecessary brusqueness.

Nelly swore again, audibly this time, but hugging the blanket around her she raised herself up and putting her feet on the ground. Because, otherwise, the temptation to close her eyes and go back to sleep would have been irresistible.

She yawned and waited while Esmeia leant against the wall pointedly ignoring Falltrick and quietly staring into space. 

After a few moments Falltrick said impatiently: "Thought you had enough food for three?"

"I do" mumbled Esmeia, without looking at him. 

Falltrick took the hint and with a grunt he pushed past her and out, calling back as he exited: "One hour!"

Esmeia swung the door closed behind him and headed for the fire. She must have set it before she left as it was burning nicely and the cottage was again full of nice smelling smoke as steam rose gently from the kettle. 

"Got a pan?" asked Esmeia, "I have bacon and butter."

"Yeah, hanging behind you, behind the cloths," replied Nelly, "where did you get it?"

"Provisioner's."

"Oh- Perita, she's expensive," Dohn and Nelly didn't like buying from the woman; bartering directly between neighbours and traders always gave a better rate than going through the storekeeper, even if her stocks were a necessary evil during shortages and winter months. And Nelly soundly disliked the older woman as well, she was, moralistic, intolerant and judgemental; if it weren't for Falltrick she would pretty much run the village. And you have to be pretty bad to make Falltrick seem like the good guy.

"I thought you didn't have money" she enquired s Nelly began to heat the butter in the wide pan for the thick slices of bacon. 

"I got some off Falltrick."

"Hope you don't owe him."

"No, it's settled." Esmeia winked as the bacon hit the pan and started sizzling.

"Its going to be a problem, I'm broke too" said Nelly, ruefully.

She got to her feet and stretched. Her limbs ached a little but she could feel the blood flowing, warming them. She could have used more sleep and was hungry as well but on the whole she felt good in a lazy, satisfied, happy tummy sort of way. Then she remembered. She was pregnant, or at least impregnated... or infested with the beastman's larvae. She shouldn't feel good about it.

Also she was a widow. 

She sighed and pulled out a fresh dress and linen smalls. 

"I don't have anything black" she mused forlornly holding the cream smock up to the light.

"I'm sure someone will find you a shawl, that's probably the way it works. I doubt many people plan their wardrobes ahead for their husband's funeral".

Esmeia moved towards Nelly and threw a comforting arm around her shoulder. 

"Thanks, for last night and all" said Nelly as Esmeia returned to the cooking while Nelly dressed.

"I'll make tea" said Nelly, retrieving her pewter mugs. Esmeia nodded. Nelly dropped mint leaves and lemon grass into each of the mugs then, checking that the other woman was focused on frying the breakfast, she took out a small box from the back of a high shelf and emptied its remaining contents of a two and a half dried Maidenhead leaves into her own mug. Obviously the contraceptive had not worked to prevent her impregnation by the beastman's seed  yesterday and there was little that such a dose could do after the fact but she felt she should, at least, try to see if it would help solve her pregnancy problem before she had to take more steps.

"Breakfast for three?" she enquired.

"Yep, you, me and- " Esmeia tilted her head towards the window, "- Lover Boy."

Nelly looked out of the window following Esmeia' nod across the yard towards the barn where the beastman was held. "I'll get some eggs" she said, heading for the door and the chicken coop.

The two ate their breakfast of thick fatty bacon, fresh eggs, heavy brown bread, ripe tomatoes and wild rocket cropped from the bank of the small stream that ran behind the cottage along with their tea. Nelly was beginning to feel a bit more able to face the day's challenges.

Once they were finished, they took the remaining half loaf and bacon rinds and a bucket of water and a bowl across to the barn.

Inside the air was heavy with the odour of the beastman. Still seated and trussed to the pillar a dark horned shape in the gloom, framed against the brightly lit lines of sunlight shining through the planks of the wall behind it. It started as they entered as if it had been dozing. Nelly reckoned its shoulders looked a little slumped this morning and she thought she could see a sheen on the exposed flesh of its shoulders and snout. There were signs of a lather around its mouth and she thought its lips looked grey and its eyes bloodshot.

"Breakfast," smiled Esmeia cheerily.

It glowered at the approaching women but accepted the bowl of water, preferring to lap it up rather than have it poured into its mouth. Then it accepted mouthfuls of the bread wrapped bacon from Nelly. She wondered if it was normally a pure meat eater but it didn't complain, merely chewed and swallowed the offering mechanically.

"I see you won't be needing a walk urgently," said Esmeia, looking down at the dark patch of dirt between its legs from which a heavy musk rose. 

She bent to look at the wound in its shoulder. "I'm not sure its that well," she muttered.

"Are you ill?" asked Nelly looking it in the eye. 

The beastman snarled in reply.

"Prideful, still." said Esmeia, "can't be feeling too bad." She had switched her attention to the thigh wound. "I think these need cleaning again. Do you have anything for wounds? Fresh bandages? I can do it when you are away."

"I have some salve, and bandages." replied Nelly. "More water?" she asked turning to the beastman.

It paused for a moment then grunted "Yes".

"It does speak!" exclaimed Esmeia. The beastman glowered.

After they had watered it Nelly returned to the cottage to find the jar of salve and some clean strips of linen that could be used as bandages. But when she got outside she saw a Esmeia was confronting a girl in a blue dress and behind her was a boy of the same age, fidgeting. Esmeia was blocking the girl's path to the barn.

Recognising the girl Nelly swore under her breath but  called out: "Hey Julet! What's up?"

"I want to see Dohn" said Julet, a little petulantly.

Nelly sighed exasperated. Julet, Dohn's half sister, was of age but Nelly considered both her and her twin brother, Landory, who was loitering behind her, to both be simple minded and annoyingly naive. They both shared Dohn's messy curls, but unlike his blonde locks theirs were dark, like their mother's They shared his tallness  but Landory was thin and gangling, an impression reinforced by his too small shirt and trousers which left his midriff and shins exposed while Julet, although also lanky and awkward, was beginning to put on weight on her hips and face, while her growing bosom was threatening to burst out from the dress. More every time Nelly saw her, it seemed.

"Dohn isn't here" said Nelly.

"Is he in there?" demanded Julet, taking a step towards the barn, her sharp jaw set. Esmeia moved again to block her.

"No, said Nelly, he's not there... where's your mother, you should be with her". Her eyes flicked from Julet to Landory. "Don't you need to put on a dress?" she added cruelly to the callow youth, who twitched in embarrassment as Esmeia raised an eyebrow.

Julet moved to bypass Esmeia who moved to block her again.

"Dohn's dead", snapped Nelly, her patience now fraying, "and you should be with your mother".

"I know he's dead," Julet whined, "but is he in there?"

"No" said Nelly, "he is over the valley, I am going to fetch him this morning. We were just feeding the goats."

Julet actually stamped her foot and this petulance tipped Nelly over the edge. 

"Go to your mother or else I will get Falltrick on you! I am fetching Dohn, we will have him back by this afternoon, then we will bury him, alright! Go to your mother!"

"I'm not scared of Falltrick," pouted Julet.

"Yes you are" asserted Nelly and Julet dropped her gaze, seeing that Nelly was serious.

The girl turned on heel and stormed off down the path, grabbing Landory's elbow as she passed and dragging him with her.

"Who-?" asked Esmeia. 

Nelly filled her in with the details. Dohn's parents had split up when he was young, his father had taken him to another village, but his mother, Lily, had remarried and had the twins. Dohn returned to the village to stay with his mother when he was a teenager. He had been cool to the twins who were a good few years younger but they seemed to look up to him, at least as a soft elder brother who could be relied on to take their bullying, and yet back them up if they were in trouble. Probably as a surrogate father as real one, Lily's husband, was a lazy ass. 

"They're both useless" asserted Nelly. "I don't think Julet is going to make it to the winter without getting a baby in her belly and then she will be married off to whoever is dumb enough to take responsibility for her sprog. Landory probably won't ever be married until a fairy princesses steps out of one of his storybooks. Or maybe a fairy prince... who knows with Landory." She looked up at the rising sun and sighed. "We'll need to get moving soon."

They gathered their things then Esmeia threw her arm around Nelly's shoulder in a comradely way as she hefted her spear, and together the pair headed down the path to the village. 

The market square was surrounded by buildings on three sides. On the River side was Perita and Deghan's store, warehouse and home, the only two storey stone building in the village. Beside it Job's forge and workshop and adjacent to that Gethta's stable.

When Nelly Esmeia arrived, Falltrick was talking to the blacksmith, Jobi while Habel, the hunter was sitting at their feet tying short lengths of rope to two long sturdy poles. Before they could reach them, however another young couple rose from a bench and approached, the blonde girl limping eagerly towards them while the man, his strong arm intertwined with hers, kept her steady in her haste.

Nelly greeted them, breaking free of Esmeia to embrace the limping girl enthusiastically.

"Meg, Den this is Esmeia, my friend". She said over her shoulder as Meg continued to hug her. "Esmeia these are my cousins..."

"Meg and ... Den" Esmeia finished, shaking the hand that was offered by Den, giving the handsome young man a crooked smile. Nelly made a small cough of feigned disapproval.

Meg was just a little older than Nelly but had a fair complexion and wild blonde hair that framed her thin, delicate face and radiated youthful sweetness, only spoiled by her club foot which she had been born with. Her honesty, trust, personality meant that Nelly loved her and was also almost equally as jealous of her. Den was younger than Meg and a little younger than Nelly. He was well built and had a wide, honest face with heavy brows and a mop of blonde hair. He shared his sister's naive honesty, was a bit quieter but was a bit more practical. 

Nelly had grown up with her aunt and uncle and she had viewed Meg and Den as more or less her siblings throughout much of her youth, at least until adolescence when Nelly's rather more adventurous personality had begun to assert itself. But still was close and she still viewed them as her best friends, after her husband.

"So sorry about Dohn," said Meg letting Nelly free so she could look her earnestly in the eyes, her own brimming with tears. Beside her, Den nodded in sympathetic agreement, a concerned frown crossing his features as he regarded his widowed cousin.

Nelly sighed. "It's alight, it happened. I have to deal with it... Hey, I thought you were heading to the fair at Whitesprings?"

But Meg just gushed: "You're so brave" and burst into tears falling into Nelly's arms again. Bewildered as to what to do Nelly patted her cousin on the back and looked from Esmeia to Den. 

"We can go to the fair tomorrow," said Den. "We will miss a day but if the north path is clear then we can take the wagon over the ford and it'll be quicker." He gave her an earnest look. "I'm going with you to help bring Dohn back today." 

Meg gave another bursts of tears as Nelly nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem," said Den with a comforting smile, "Falltrick's been asking around but I said yes."

They turned towards the group of men, Nelly still with an arm around Meg's shoulders, but as they approached Perita emerged from the door of her store, her face even more full of determined spite than usual, her diminutive husband Deghan trailing behind. Falltrick who had just been about to hail the approaching friends saw the other couple bearing and straightening his shoulders turned instead marched to intercept them instead like the old soldier he was marching to war.

Jobi, the blacksmith straightened himself up. He was about the same age but shorter than Falltrick and also much stouter. A life at the forge hadn't seem to bless him with much of a physique, probably because, in fact, more of his life was spent at the dinner table or in the Inn's tap house rather than working; something he could afford as he had a monopoly on forging thanks to his friendship with Perita. Nelly wholly disliked him for a period in her youth where he almost continually pestered her for sexual favours and gave him a sour look but Jobi's piggy eyes seemed to have fallen today on Esmeia instead. Meg detached herself from Nelly, gave a deep sniff and straightening before collapsing again, this time into Den's arms, as another wave of grief wracked her and Esmeia, recoiling from the unwanted attention from Jobi, put her own arm around Nelly.

"What's that ?" asked Nelly nodding to the arrangement of ropes that Habel had tied between parallel poles.  

"Litter" answered Habel, inspecting his work. "Came back last night with Hann carryin' his dead boy. Thought I make this up, easier to bring Dohn back." 

"So Hann made it back?"

"Event'ly... took us hal' the night. His othe' lad wus fuckin' useless and the two of us had to get the body all the way 'cross the valley and the river... in th' dark!"

He sounded bitter, probably towards Falltrick for leaving him to guide Hann back himself, so  she gave a small smile of approval for his effort. The litter looked like it would be an effective way for two or more people to carry the body back. 

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"Seems like it" shrugged Habel, casting a glance over at Falltrick who was now locked in an intense looking whispered discussion with Perita. "Jobi too."

Nelly's smile melted and she caught the eye of the fat blacksmith who grunted and lifted a heavy sword and iron bound round shield as if it validated his role.

"Wait, is it dangerous?", exclaimed Meg, her sobs suddenly clearing and she now clutched Den protectively.

"No" said Nelly, a little too sharply.

"We killed a couple and the other one ran off, so it's all clear," added Esmeia reassuringly.

But Falltrick had now returned, having managed to extract himself from Perita, and said to Den: "You not got a weapon, you'll need a weapon".

At that Meg gripped her brother's arm again hard enough to make him wince, glaring protectively at the mayor. Nelly detached Dohn's cudgel from her belt and handed it to her cousin who grunted: "Thanks" and Meg turned her frown on him.

"Are we set yet?" Nelly asked Falltrick, ignoring her cousin.

"Just waiting for Bremmar now" said Falltrick jabbing a thumb behind him.

"Seriously?" said Nelly, her eyes following Falltrick's indication to Perita's husband.

Perita and Deghan outside their store were now conversing with another couple, a stern looking middle aged woman and an unhappy looking man who looked like he was competing with Deghan for the role of the village's most henpecked husband. Perita seemed to be lecturing the other woman occasionally casting glances over at Falltrick and the rest of the group. 

"Dohn's mother," said Nelly, "and step father."

Dohn's mother, Lily, was a tall thin woman, her height enhanced by a mountain of thick dark curls that she had tied up in in a bun. Obviously her children Dohn, Julet and Landory had inherited their hair and tallness from her rather than from their fathers. In her mid forties she was still a surprisingly good looking woman helped by her stature with fine high cheekbones bones a healthy complexion and only a few wrinkles and grey hairs beginning to show. Her lean figure was enhanced by the black dress and shawl that she was wearing today in mourning. Her eyes were blue, like her children's, also but cold, reflecting her personality; in which Nelly had ever seen any warmth. She suspected Dohn had come to the village more so he could get away from his father than a desire to live with his mother. 

The woman turned her eyes on to the group following Perita's glances and their cold regard settled on Nelly and Esmeia. Nelly felt Esmeia's stiffen, dropping her arm from Nelly's waist and move a bit behind Nelly as if to shield herself from the intensity of older woman's stare. Even for Esmeia it looked like the judgement in that look for the stranger embracing the widow of her son less than a day after his killing was a bit too much to face directly.

"So that's four, plus you."said Falltrick impatiently waving Dohn' stepfather over to join them. "Couldn't get Hann or any of his boys to help."

"Habel, Bremmar, Jobi and Den...  aren't you coming?"

Falltrick shook his head. "Nah, things going to shit here," he tilted his head in Perita's direction. "Got funerals to organise and I need to be here to make sure they don't turn into a lynching instead..." 

For you maybe, thought Nelly. 

"Hann won't even fuckin' talk to me. I'm sorry about his lad but we're in this together. And this morning Gromlin found half his flock had died last night from giving birth to those fucking parasites." Falltrick clenched his jaw with frustration.

"Seriously!" exclaimed Nelly.

"Yeah. Hopefully that's it though. They must have done a real number last spring but hoping its over now. At least we dealt with the cause. And I'm thinking of getting a witch in to check the other livestock."

"If you're not going I can go instead" said Esmeia. 

"Nah- I want you here. You gotta look after things..." In the presence of Den and Jobi was didn't clarify further but rolled his eyes in the direction of Nelly's cottage and the barn. "... and I'm gonna be too busy."

"Things'll look after themselves" retorted Esmeia, looking determined.

"No. Four plus Nelly is plenty enough." His look was as steely as Esmeia's. "She'll be safe, don't you worry."

"It's alright" said Nelly, patting Esmeia on the shoulder. "We'll be back in the afternoon. You do what you need to do. You could tidy the cottage and make things secure."

Esmeia nodded pouting. 

"Hour and a half there, maybe two back and another to get the body." we'll be ready to see him off mid-afternoon. If you don't dwaddle." He turned and nodded curtly to Dohn's mother who was now approaching with her husband. "Lily".

Dohn's mother nodded back but her eyes were on Nelly's who had to looked away from the intensity of the scrutiny. She didn't even know quite what what she was being judged so harshly for. Dohn's mother had never been seemed fond of her but then she seemed to have the same opinion of every soul in the village. The woman turned her attention to her husband who shuffled forward to join the rest. His eyes lighted on their weapons and widened.

"Wait... it's dangerous!" Bremmars eyes flickered between the member so the group then he turned to his wife but the expression she got made him cower.

"Go brink my son back." Lilly said flatly.

"Jobi, go fetch him a spear or something" said Falltrick.

"Staff'd be easier," whispered Habel to Nelly, "'e won't ken which end o' a spear to use."

Once Bremmar was armed the party set off, Esmeia and Falltrick walking behind Nelly on the short path, past the hollow where the old tree twisted over the great white slab, to the edge of the village giving them an excuse to get away from Perita. Dohn's mother did not follow either.

"Hey Falltrick", said Nelly, "I'm running a bit short of money now, could you possibly..?"

"Didn't Dohn clear a couple of fields for Gethal last week?" asked Falltrick, "Did he get paid?"

"I don't think so... he still had to do the pasture though."

"Well he's not doing that now is he? I'll talk to Gethal see what you're owed. You may want to check Dohn's pockets when you find him. I heard some coppers clanking."

"You mean when you were fucking him?" she said quietly enough for only him and Esmeia to hear. 

Falltrick gave her a sharp look, then dropped his eyes, embarrassed.

"Sorry about that... it's done now. I'll be looking out for you now, if you stay." He cast a glance over to Esmeia, "Don't worry."

As they reached the edge of the orchards, Nelly allowed Esmeia to give her a small kiss on the cheek.

"See you later, take care!" Esmeia lowered her voice so Den and Bremmar couldn't hear as she whispered into Nelly's ear. "If you find trouble just run. Anything that chases you will get Jobi first."

"You too," chuckled Nelly. "Keep an eye on you-know-who... "

"Lover Boy?" smiled Esmeia.

"Probably shouldn't call him that" said Falltrick, seriously. Esmeia shrugged.

"... and watch out for Julet poking about." Continued Nelly.

As Esmeia nodded Nelly leaned in, pressing her last two coppers into the other woman's hand and whispered: "If you can pick up a bunch of Maidenhead leafs from the crone, Zoola, down at riverside... I'm all out."

Esmeia looked at her but nodded. 

"Zoola", Nelly repeated, to make sure. Then she added "Maybe a bit of Wild Ashroot as well if she has any."

Esmeia's brows went up but held her tongue and nodded again and they hugged.

They parted ways. Nelly's party cresting the hill to head down to the valley, Falltrick heading back to the village to deal with whatever strife was bubbling up and Esmeia in the direction of the cottage.

When Esmeia got to the path leading up to the cottage she almost ran straight into Julet, Dohn's half-sister, who was standing in the shade under a tree beside the well. The girl gave a startled yelp which helped hide Esmeia's momentary surprise.

"Hello Julet, what are you doing?" asked Esmeia with forced politeness.

"None of your business," said the girl imperiously, "you don't come from here."

Esmeia ignore that. "Nelly told you to go home to your mother, you should do that, I just saw her in square. Your father has gone to get Dohn and you need to go home."

"No" said Julet, angrily drawing herself up.

Esmiea blinked slowly and let her face harden. The girl was taller and heavier than she but still a teenager, gangly, awkward and it was soft fat rather than muscle that was beginning to fill out her womanly features. Esmeia, on the other hand, although much shorter, was a fully mature woman, lithe and fit from a life of outdoor working on river boats and barges and she had a knife at her belt and a sword at her hip the pommel of which she wasn't even bothering to rest a hand on. There was no question of a physical contest. She locked her dark eyes on the other's blue and in a low voice said, very slowly, and very deliberately:

"If you do not go home now, and I mean right now, I will have you over my knee and I will pull up that pretty blue dress of yours and I will spank you until your smooth white buttocks are swollen, red and raw, like overripe tomatoes."

She let her voice lift a little on those last words as if she would enjoy the experience, before continuing with a new edge:

"Then I will drag you down to Falltrick and I will make sure that he spanks you, and I will watch, and once he is done then he can take you to your mothers' and see what she thinks of your behaviour on this day... the day of your brother's burial."

Julet eyes went wide, she swallowed, her face reddened and she stamped "I don't like you!" Then before she could face any reprisal from the fierce woman, she bolted down the path back towards the village. 

Esmeia chuckled to herself as she headed up to the cottage. She was looking forward to recounting that encounter to Nelly.

Behind her Julet came to a stop after the first bend where she was hidden from view. Her heart was hammering and her eyes were brimming with fury and fear of the stranger but slowly her fire lessened. She gingerly stuck her head around the corner but the arrogant woman had disappeared and should probably be at the barn or cottage now to her relief. She waited for a few more minutes before she saw furtive moment amongst the cherry trees opposite. She scampered across the path and intercepted Landory as he descended the slope.

"Did she see you" she hissed in a conspiratorial whisper.

"No, I heard you talking so I hid behind the barn until she went into the cottage" said her awkward brother. 

"I don't like her" Julet asserted "She's nasty and horrible... so is Nelly sometimes... I don't know what happened to Dohn but I think they may have done something and I think there's something between them. What did you find? What did you see?"

Landory looked around to see if anyone was near and then bent towards his sister, whispering: "I didn't go in I thought I might get trapped. But I could see through the planks in the walls, there something in there. There wasn't much light but I think..." he leaned closer his eyes wide with excitement, his whisper rising in excitement: "... they've captured a satyr!"



After she had tidied the cottage and fetched water to fill the big pot Esmeia checked on the prisoner in the barn, checking the bindings again, then  just watching him for a few minutes while the big beastman glared back at her. Then she headed down the path making sure there was no sign of Julet or her brother. At the well she turned off towards the river. 

At the river bank there was a boat tied up at the wharf. It was one of the sailed trading vessels, not the long logging or transport barges, and Esmeia recognised it. The stout dark skinned owner was unpacking crates with one of her deckhands. Beside her was a group of four passengers disembarking, dressed in an assortment of travel clothes, sorting backpacks and camping gear.

"Hey Portia, how are you?" Esmeia called to the owner.

The boatwoman Portia stopped her work and, mopping her brow, gave Esmeia a wide smile. She was stout and her teeth white against her dark skin.

"Hey Esme", no work I'm afraid got a full crew.

"No problems," said Esmeia... just looking for a ride actually, which way are you going?"

"Up to Nerry and the place over the bank."

"How much would it cost just to turn around?"

Portia looked taken aback. "Can't say.. got a few passengers and a hold of cargo for the loggers. It would cost a lot, and let a lot of people down. Gonna be back here in a few days, though. Where are you heading?"

"All the way to Densport. Me and two others: the mayor and a prisoner." 

"A prisoner? Not trouble I hope? If its some bandit I have to worry about getting ambushed by a gang." Portia tilted her head watching Esmeia's reaction. She had enough experience of the other woman to know that at times she was a prize bullshitter. 

"No, not that kind of prisoner, no problem, me and the mayor can handle him. Any other boats in this stretch?"

"Bonhatch is upriver somewhere I think. I'll let him know your looking if I pass him coming back down."

"Thanks", said Esmeia, "if he's passing tell him to stop and have someone run up to the mayor. If not then stop in yourself when you come back. Chances are we will still be waiting."

"Sure girl." Portia smiled. 

"Excuse me?" came an enquiring voice. An old man from the group of disembarking passengers had turned to the women. "Would you happen to know if there is a crater nearby?" he asked Esmeia.

"Err..."

"A moonfall crater?" He waved a long-fingered hand vaguely skyward. The other three, all younger were shouldering their backs and falling in behind him.

Esmeia frowned. "Err, there's the big one up river..." 

An annoyed frown briefly crossed the man's creased face before returning to a genial smile. "No, my dear, not the Nerimiyah site... I believe there's an older one hereabouts. He waved his arm in a broad sweep.

He was old and bald, his frame tall and thin, but he looked hale and his clothes were well worn but good quality. Esmeia had seen similar on occasion, a wandering scholar scouring the land with maps, notebooks, picks and shovels. Great rocks from the moon had been falling from the skies for generations, raining destruction, bringing disease or ill-omen or cracking the earth to free demons from the hells, at least so the superstitious believed. The first had fallen centuries before, immediately after the Sundering. Others had fallen since, often following the sight of great clashes of the celestial fragments of the shattered moon in the heavens, but others just at random. The rocks and the great craters they rent were favourites of the scholarly class.

Esmeia shrugged. "Sorry, I am not from round here... maybe up in the village people will know." She glanced at Portia who shrugged in turn. The old man was probably right but the only person she knew would likely know for sure was the hunter Habel, and he was now heading across the valley with Nelly.

"Well thank you anyway," said the old scholar politely with a small bow.

"You're welcome," returned Esmeia, "that way" she pointed to the path that led up to the village square. Shouldering their backs, the scholar's students, or apprentices, followed him like a line of ducklings following their mother. Their clothes were all newer than their master's, this seemed to be their first stop on their expedition with the old man, but Esmeia was gratified to note that all of them had at least invested in what seemed to be good boots, even if they were over-encumbered with camping gear. Two of them may have been siblings, a young man and woman, both well built but fresh faced. The third, a smaller girl with mouse-like features smiled and repeated the thank you to Esmeia as she passed.

As they left Esmeia saw that another, tall woman clad in hunting leathers had emerged from the boat and was also making her way down the gangplank to the wharf.

"Hi!" called Portia, "This ain't yer stop..."

The woman gave her a brief, piercing look, but then her attention switched to the water and Esmeia saw a white and pink shape floating down past the boat. A dead sheep.

And, on the bank past the Inn, a little further up river, Esmeia saw a man was wading out of the shallows with the body of another sheep to deposit it at the end of a growing line of bloodied, waterlogged bodies of other members of the flock on the shore. An older man, looking very much like a shepherd was standing over them looking distraught.

"Hey, what's happening up there?" The new woman said as she joined them, her sharp hazel eyes narrowed.

"We had beastmen," said Esmeia, "I think they got one or two of the flocks."

"We saw some bodies floating down on the way up..." said the stout black boatwoman, the other woman nodded "...wondered where they'd come from. So the shepherd got raided by the goaties, yeah?"

"Well they fucked his sheep, apparently. Probably a couple of months ago, I'm told. We chased them down though, just yesterday. I was on the hunt." Esmeia added, a little proudly. "That's how it ends up when they breed with animals, so it seems."

"So I heard." said Portia. "You got lucky they hung around, though, I suppose. Heard a story once... y'know that traders from up north sometimes bring captured goaties to the port to sell. Good coin, I hear. Well, a couple of years back there were a few deaths... three died with those things babies rippin' outa their bellies.. real messy I heard. Turned out they had all been guards on the caravans, one that had brought a goaty captive months before. Managed to get themselves knocked up somehow but none of them mentioned it. Maybe they were ashamed. Never heard what happened to the baby monsters. Now I heard of guards pilfering cargo..." She raised an eyebrow at Esmeia who smiled innocently back, "... getting fucked by a monster and dying when its babies rip their way outa ya is hardly 'sampling the goods'?"

Esmeia shrugged: "Takes all sorts I suppose." Her mind wandered for a moment to the captured beastman. How dumb would you have to be to let one of those fuck you? She was suddenly aware that the tall woman had gone very quiet and very still.

"Yeah probably not even the stupidest I've heard I suppose... but its close." Portia turned back to her work, stacking the new crates that her deckhand had offloaded.

"How many did you find?" said the other woman. Looking up close Esmeia reckoned she was in her mid or late thirties but she was tall and lean. Her face had strong, stern features and a few scars on her temple and cheek, her pale skin was weather beaten suggesting a life outdoors and wisps of bright red hair escaped from her leather hood. She would have been beautiful if she didn't look so dangerous. Maybe once, when she was younger. But her eyes were bloodshot and her lips cracked and that suggested she was hungover. 

"Er... three... to the north... a ravine," Esmeia found herself cowed under the intensity of the woman's regard.

"Did you search the area?"

Esmeia took a moment to compose herself: "No, not really, there was a cave but it was getting dark and we lost a couple of men... dead, I mean."

The woman gave a small nod. "Probably sensible," she turned to Portia. "I'm getting off here now. I can find my own way to the camps."

Portia shrugged and as the woman counted out a few coins for her passage: "Best way there on foot is just to follow the river path. The first big camp, that's Nerry, is a few days hike.  It's on the other side but when you get to it you can wave for attention and someone with a skiff will come and take you across for a copper."

The tall woman nodded and handed Portia the coins. "How's the Inn?" she asked Esmeia.

"Best on the river," smiled Esmeia.

"Well, it's not the worst," clarified Portia. "... arguably."

With a nod the woman shouldered a leather rucksack and weapons headed up the wharf towards the sprawling dark timbered pile that was the Inn. One her back were three javelins, pilums Esmeia reckoned from the long iron shanks, as well as a short curved bladed weapon in a scabbard and a smaller buckler shield. A henna red ponytail hung from under her leather hood and while she wore strong ankle length leather boots. A pair of soft moccasins, useful for stalking, hung from her belt.

"Who-?" asked Esmeia.

Portia shrugged. "Just some wanderer. She was heading to the camps for hunting but when  we started seeing dead sheep floating down river she seemed to change plans. Got a preference for hunting goaties I suspect. Y'know you can get a lot of money for body parts as well as the live ones."

Esmeia kept a straight face. "What have you got there?" she asked changing the subject. As well as the crates of empty bottles that were presumably intended for the distillery Portia was offloading several covered crates.

"Smoked fish for the provisioners," said Portia, lifting the lid from one of the crates. A strong scent rose from the contents. 

"Got any spare?" 

"Couple of crates actually."

"Just one or two... fish I mean, not crates.. oh shit no money, it's alright"

Portia sighed. "This one's looking a bit grey round the gills" she picked out one of the bright orange fish and tossed it to Esmeia who caught it deftly.

"Oh, thanks I didn't really mean... if we get passage later I'll make it up to you."

"Sure girl. Say, I have an hour or so to spare. How about a drink in my cabin for old times sake?", she winked.

"Ah- love to but... I got a local squeeze... I think... not sure how its going to work out. Maybe later." She winked back.

"Sure. Well good for you. I'll look for you."

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

The cluster of buildings that were known as Riverside lay further up river, past the dark Inn into which the tall huntress had disappeared and past the small beach where the shepherd was still mourning the grisly remains of his flock. Esmeia reached the one one obvious door in what seemed to hodgepodge of connected leantos and poor shacks and rapped sharply. Almost every village had a crone who peddled contraceptives to the local maidens and they always lurked in hovels like this, she thought.

There was a pause as she heard someone behind then the door opened a crack and the face of a young woman peered out from the darkness, accompanied by a waft of coarse woodsmoke and strong odour of rot.

"Zoola?" Esmeia asked, but guessing that the young woman was not the crone herbalist. She thought she had seen this girl before, lank dark hair falling across her pale round face, her eyes so dark they could have been holes. Seen her at the inn in previous seasons, peddling her body for coin. Once she had propositioned Esmeia, another time, when times had been lean, they had been probably been in competition.

"Nah" said the girl, harshly. She looked Esmeia up and down with those hard eyes and for a moment it looked like she was going to slam the door close and Esmeia's foot hovered for a moment to block it. But the girl, with at least a little business instinct went on: "what d'ye want?"

"To see Zoola," said Esmeia, staring the other down.

"What for?"

Esmeia paused for a moment but the girl stared her out. "Maidenhead leaves," she said eventually, "... and Ashroot, Wild Ashroot if you have any."

The girl continued to stare at her for a moment, then she glanced over her shoulder as if seeking approval from someone in the shadows and gave a small nod. "Wait!" and pushed the door to.

Esmeia waited. It made sense, she supposed, that Nelly was looking for contraception if she was planning to begin courting again, already. But Ashroot... Mother's Honour... That was usually used in the weeks after the event to end a pregnancy. She wondered if Nelly believed she was carrying Dohn's child... and what she, Esmeia, should feel, or say, about that.

Her reverie was broken by the return of the pale girl. She held a bunch of dried leaves and a wizened root in one hand. 

"Copper for each leaf and five for the root."

Esmeia felt the coins in her pocket. Two coppers from Nelly and two of her own. She bit her lip, then shrugged regretfully.

"I'll give you a half crown for the lot." She reckoned there were about eight leaves and the root."

"Silver 'alf-crown?" asked the girl. 

"Yup."

"I'll give you a root an' five leaves."

"All or nothing" said Esmeia before she could stop herself. Bartering came too naturally to her. But she saw the girl consider, her eyes narrowing and they both knew that, with the state of the leaves the riversider was probably getting the better bargain in any case.

The girl nodded. Esmeia sighed then kneeling fished into the side of her boot where she kept her emergency reserve.

"What's your name?" She asked as she fished out the small silver coin.

"Chelly" said the girl, looking down at her a small smirk on her lips.

"Here" said Esmeia, handing the coin over and taking the leaves and root in the same motion, their arms crossed. A River Trade.

Chelly peered at the coin and grunted, then, as Esmeia was turning to leave she said: "Not going to help you if you got one o' those beastmen babies in yer tummy... Zoola says. She can't do nothin' for you, then."

Esmeia was genuinely surprised at this and it took her a moment to blurt back, "... err, no. No danger of that."

Chelly smirked and shrugged. "You wouldn't be the first one asking today." She said as she swung the door to. "If you've got them's spawn in yer then yer better find yersel' a witch."

Esmeia stood dumbfounded for a few seconds before shaking her head and turning back to the village. Who could have been looking for contraceptive for a beastman today? The only person who had been in contact alone with beastmen had been Nelly; and there was no way...

... she sighed. She had been with Nelly since they got back so she knew Nelly hadn't been down. Just the usual village paranoia probably. Word spreads of beastmen lurking in the hills and impregnating the animals and there is bound to be one or two spinsters and maidens who imagine that they may been visited overnight. And then, of course, they would go running straight to the crone to fix their dreamed pregnancy.

She made her way back to the cottage and settled down to finish the last crusts of her breakfast bread. The fish was overwhelmingly strong and she couldn't tell if it was in fact a little grey round the gills or whether that was just her imagination poisoned by Portia's words but, after a couple of bites, she found she had lost her appetite for it. She gathered up the bandages and salve that Nelly had left on the table and taking the plate crossed to the barn.

The bestial odour was less overwhelming this time as she shouldered her way through the door. She was probably getting used to it. "How are you?" she asked the glowering beastman. No answer, not even a grunt this time. It just looked at her balefully.

She placed the plate of fish on its lap and left it there, out of reach of its bound arms. It looked down at the food, its nose twitching at the pungent aroma, strong enough to actually mask its own musk. But it sat placidly refusing to respond as she set about cleansing its wounds, applying the salve and changing its bandages.

"Strong silent type, eh?" she said as she worked on its thigh. "Garhorn is it?" She waited but there was no response. "I think I'll call you Horny... better than 'Lover Boy'." She glanced up at him.

"Garhorn," it rumbled.

"That's better". She continued to clean the wound. 

After a moment she went on: "You know, last night while you slept I came to check on you... you were having quite a dream, mumbling, growling, legs kicking... looked like quite a chase."

He stiffened and out of the corner of his eye she saw his eyes narrow... not so pleasant to realise how much he was in her power... that she could have cut his throat while he slept. She did not mention the sight of his erect phallus in the moonlight and how she had been thankful she had not been drunk.

After a minute it said: "Free me... I will not kill you."

"That sounds like a good deal" she replied but when she looked up again she got no sense that the beastman appreciated, or understood, sarcasm.

She pulled the fresh bandage tight and moved around to look at his shoulder. The skin of the wound had a greyish pallor and she could see some pus seeping from it, frowning she began to scrub it clean, pushing the wound open to expose the raw flesh. She saw Garhorn wince slightly.

"So I'm curious," she said as she worked, "when you've done your thing and you've finished with the mommy do you ever hang around to see your kidlets pop?"

The beastman's expression was blank and she suspected it simply hadn't understood.

"When you fuck an animal do you ever see you baby... monsters born?" she clarified. 

"No." Shrug.

"Alright, so not really one for parental responsibility..." that's not so unusual anyway for men I suppose she added to herself, thinking of what she knew of Nelly, Dohn and her own upbringing.

"So when you fuck a beast, you don't see the kids? The beast just runs off and pops somewhere else?"

It looked blankly again at her then nodded.

"And you never see them again?"

A shrug. Then to her surprise it said. "Spawn appear next season, strongest survive, join tribe."

"But you don't know if they are yours?"

"They... are... brood."

"You don't feel guilty... bad for leaving them... killing the mother?"

"Beast accepts... runs and screams first but then takes seed... take happy... make spawn."

She began pushing the salve forcefully into the cleansed wound but it did not flinch this time, instead it looked at her, sneering.

"I will fuck you... put seed in you.. you will... take happy... make spawn"

"I don't think I will 'take happy'. You're not my type, I'm afraid, Horny. I'm probably not yours either." She had finished with the shoulder and after a brief inspection of its bruised head she was satisfied. She picked the plate up off its lap and said "Do you want this". 

It nodded and she gingerly fed it a bite at a time. Despite the head constraint she reckoned it could have probably a decent attempt to bite her, now or before, but the fact it hadn't was probably testament to its basic intelligence. It would not have gained from injuring its captors while still trussed. Once the plate was clear she poured a bowl of water and let the beastman slake its thirst. 

"Were you in a tribe?" she asked. 

It nodded and grunted. 

"How many". 

"Hundred... legion." 

Esmeia poured the remaining water from the large bucket and turning it upside down as a makeshift stool she sat down before the beastman. 

"A hundred? Where?"

"North, great forests... Zalafel king led us south, raid human lands."

"Zalafel?" Esmeia frowned at the thought of a beastman king. But the Great Forest was dozens of leagues away. "When?"

Garhorn considered: "Six... or more summers?" 

Esmeia felt a little relieved at that. "What happened?"

"Fighting... arguing... Garhorn came south... others went north... west."

"Did you kill any humans?"

It grunted again, affirmative its narrowed goat eyes watching her.

"Eat them?"

No reaction.

"Did you ever rape any humans?" she lent forward looking it in the face and tilting her head.

It paused for a moment. "I fucked your mate."

"My mate?"

"Nelly"

She stiffened, not just because it had picked up Nelly's name.

"I fucked her, killed her man-mate then fucked her... she took my seed... happy cry... my seed is in her belly... " it leaned forward, the robes around its chest creaking. "She is mine now."

"That's not what she told me." said Esmeia very steadily, her expression frozen. 

The beast grinned. "She bears Garhorn spawn now."

With one slow movement Esmeia drew her sword and stood. In the same, quiet measured tone she said, "If that turns out to be true I will kill you. I will not give you a chance to run or fight back. You wil die tied to that post."

With that it paused and she saw it recognise the truth in her look. But then to her surprise between its legs she saw its organ stir and begin to rise.

"Come to me... lose clothes take me inside... I will give you seed... put spawn in your womb."

For a moment she was looking at the erect organ trying to imagine what it would be like to impale herself on it. She thought of Portia's story. The caravan guards who had managed to allow their beastman prisoner to impregnate them. How stupid they must have been to submit...

Then she sighed and with a little shake of her head she said, "No, you put that away now. If you raped Nelly then we are going to have a reckoning, until then, have a pleasant afternoon."

Leaving the bucket, the rags and the empty plate she exited the barn leaving Garhorn trussed his cock still rigid.



Nelly and the party managed to make the cave before noon. Initially Habel had set a good pace across the valley until Jobi, who had been sweating and swearing for the first half of the journey finally refused, at the river, to continue until they allowed him a rest. Thereafter the pace slowed somewhat: as the blacksmith continued to moan and drag his feet. At the ravine Habel found the point at which they had burned the first beastman and Nelly led the rest up the slope, following the route she and Esmeia had taken the previous day , while the old hunter remained on the valley floor to scout around.

Nelly led them up the paths, past the crevice where she had discovered Falltrick in flagrante with her husband and up past the promontory where she had confronted Dohn. She knew the mouth of the cave must be somewhere on the other side of the butte above her but she was unsure whether she could find it so, instead she followed the path up the scree slope to the narrow passage through which she had entered and exited the rear of the cave.

"I'll go first," said Den. 

"No, I know it, follow me,"  she insisted, uncertain why. There was really no choice to be made in the narrow crack, but at least she would be able to get through it easier and quicker than any of the men.

And so, shortly, she had navigated the crack again and was standing in the cave, breathing in the heavy stench of the beastmen and looking down at Dohn's body lying stiff and cold where she had abandoned him the day before.

And her attention was then drawn to the spot a little beyond, where the ground was scuffed while the beastman had fucked her. A warmth rose in her chest as she remembered the sunlight from the cave mouth behind her, illuminating the muscles and tendons of its powerful body as it moved over her... inside her...

Behind her Den pulled himself from the crack, pushing the litter through ahead of him. It was lucky that the poles had managed to squeeze through the narrow space otherwise they would have needed to find the front entrance, after all. He dusted himself down as he set eyes on Dohn's body with a mournful expression put an arm around her shoulder and said, "Sorry cousin", planting a small kiss on her temple while Bremmar pulled himself ino the cavern.

"Couldn't have used the front?" the older man complained.

Den had brought a tarpaulin for the body and he and Nelly laid the litter out beside Dohn with the tarpaulin on top. Then she took a moment to have last look at Dohn, pressing his eyelids closed and slipping a hand into his pocket to recover a small handful of coins. Den squatting on the other side pretended he hadn't seen anything.  She bent to kiss her husband on the lips but there was a stench coming from his open mouth, worse than she would have expected so she settled for a brief, guilty, peck on his forehead.

She got to her feet and Den called on Bremmar to help lift the stiff body onto the litter to the sound of Jobi dragging his large frame through the rear entrance, swearing copiously as he did so. Nobody offered to help him.

As the men worked with the body she cast her gaze around. The cave was mostly an oval but towards the back she could now see it rose and a short passage led further into the rock. A feint light catching on some surface made her think there may be a wider chamber through there with another opening to the sun. Amongst the shadows was a paler patch and she thought of the coarse white fur of the albino goatman. She stared up at it while the men behind her grunted and complained, wondering if she should investigate. Wondering what would happen if her imaginings turned out to be true, if another monster lurked in the shadows there, waiting to claim her...

She moved instead to the cave entrance. The route down was steep and she could see it would have been difficult to find it from outside. A narrow, steep path led down from the entrance which looked passable, with sure feet. 

Den and Bremmar had wrapped the body and now Bremmar was kicking around the cave looking at the debris.

"You sure you got all these fuckers?" he asked. I can see three cots here. 

"Yep, two killed and the other ran, we saw it go" replied Nelly. 

"Hey don't that stuff, they got disease and ticks" warned Den.

Bremmar who had started rummaging through one of the nests pulled his hand away and backed off.

"There's another one here", rumbled Jobi towards the back of the cave. 

Den looked at Nelly and she felt a lump in her throat. She rapidly replayed the events of the previous day. They had killed one, the deerman, at the stream. Then she had been in the cave with Garhorn and the albino goatman. They had heard a noise outside and both the beastmen had run out, leaving her. She assumed that Hann and Habel had killed the albino goatman but... maybe the noise they heard was fighting with another...

"Yeah, the other cleared off as well" she said slowly.  "C'mon lets go... it'll be noon soon, lets get home."

This they could all agree on so Jobi and Den hoisted the litter and moved to survey the path down. As they started down Nelly looked past Bremmar back into the cave. Had the white patch at the rear of the cave moved? A shiver ran down her spine as she stepped into the sunlight.

They made their way carefully down from he cave mouth until they found themselves in a gully. Following this they were soon back on the path down the ravine slopes and then back to level ground.

Den and Bremmar, both about the same height, took the front of the litter and Jobi the back. The big man seemed to be more comfortable carrying the load at a slower pace than he had been unladen before so they managed to set a reasonable pace. After a few minutes Habel caught up with them, joining Nelly at the head of the column. 

He leant toward her conspiratorially. "Went to see if I could find th' dead beastman I kill'd with Hann," he said "but it were gone... probably a cougar took it."

"Why?" asked Nelly, baffled. In answer Habel raised his skinning knife and she remembered the service he had done for Esmeia relieving the other one of its genitals and its horns.

"Say, Habel, what type was it?" she asked casually.

"Huh?"

"What was the beastman like... I mean was like a goat or a deer? Y'know, I couldn't really see in the cave."

"Ah... goat I think".

"Yep thought so... what colour would you say?"

The old hunter gave her a funny look. They were reaching the end of the ravine at this time and there was a bit of scrambling to be done at the ledges where the stream cascades.

"Just.. sorta brown.. tawny, I'd say, like t'others Why?"

Nelly was definitely feeling worried now. The white monstrosity had frightened her, and stirred her. "Oh... just thought it looked a bit greyish you know, like it was old." 

Habel looked offended: "T'was young I'm sure.. put up a fuck o' a fight, killed Hann's eldest!"

"Yes, of course, I didn' mean... I just didn't get a good look in the cave, it all happened so fast... and I was so scared."  Habel nodded at this explanation and Nelly smiled back as if everything was now settled. But she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising now she was sure that the other beastman was still at large.

When they reached the river shortly after noon she and Habel had to wait after crossing for the three litter carriers to catch up as they gingerly forded the shallow river, stumbling on the round rocks on its bed. Looking back past them she imagined a brief glimpse of something white moving furtively amongst the scrub, some distance away. But, whatever it was, she had caught no further sight of it by the time the litter carriers had finished their crossing and arrived next to her, shaking the water from their pants. She said nothing, it had probably just been her imagination, or a hare, and so the party continued on to the village.



Julet was having a bad day. Mama was totally preoccupied with the funeral and snapped at her when she tried to complain about Nelly and her nasty stranger friend. Papa had been sent off to recover Dohn's body so she couldn't tell him even if she expected him to listen. Julet had been instructed sternly to go to her chamber, stay there and make herself pretty for the afternoon, Her mother did not want to hear from her again. 

Julet was a grown woman now. She had breasts and her body had developed where her hair had grown down there and, sometimes, she even did things Falltrick - although she should not tell. But her family still treated her like a child. She knew it was because her twin, Landory, still acted like one. It was not fair.

Nobody had loved Dohn more than she did but the discovery of the Satyr meant that there must be more to his death than she, and her mother, had been told. And, she was sure, Nelly and the nasty woman were somehow responsible. Maybe she should go to Falltrick, but he had been with Dohn on the hunt so, if there was a conspiracy, then maybe he was already in it. She felt she had a good relationship with Falltrick, he had taken time to teach her some aspects of adulthood, but he was a rough man and had always been a bit strange with Dohn. That, unfortunately, left Landory as her only ally in a quest to find out the truth.

"Are you sure its a satyr?" she asked her twin brother who had slipped into her room when Mama's attention was elsewhere. "Not a beastman... I heard someone say they were hunting beastmen."

"It's definitely not a beastman,"scoffed Landory as if lecturing a child. "Beastmen are monstrous and corrupt, they have tentacles and glowing eyes and multiple heads. They're totally bestial. And they eat children..."

"Did you get a good look?"

"Good enough. It had a goats head and was normal sized... beastmen look like all sorts of animals: bulls, stags, sheep, dogs even oliphants and crocodiles and snake and dragons..."

"... goats?" Julet challenged.

"Well maybe, but that's Satyrs really," said Landory reaching for he thought was a logical argument. "It's definitely not a beastman." He paused to inspect the peach dress spread out on the cot that their mother had insisted Julet wear for the funeral. It was perhaps not the most appropriate funeral attire but it was the best dress and fairly modest. The funeral was still a village-wide social occasion that would be another chance for the family to demonstrate Julet's modesty. No one had given the same consideration to Landory, he had just been instructed to put on some clothes that fitted and were devoid of wear.

"But there aren't any forests nearby!" asserted Julet. 

Landory rolled his eyes, tearing his attention from the dress. "But it came from the north of the valley. There are great old forests in the north..."

"... and beastmen..." pointed out Julet.

"... and dryads and nymphs," countered Landory, "that's who satyrs like to cavort with,"  he said bending down again to Julet's dress on the cot and running the smooth silk of the laced hem through his fingers.

Julet slapped her brother's wrist to deter him from getting stains on the material, but she didn't disagree with his argument. Landory had long been competing with her for possession of their mother's book: Dryads, Centaurs, Satyrs and Nymphs of the Greenwald with its quite scandalous block printed illustrations. Their mother had many books in her library and the twins, unlike others in the village, were well read from an early age; but with adolescence had come a fascination with some of the more salacious texts. Her brother was too immature for that sort of reading, but he kept stealing and hiding the book anyway, much to her annoyance.

Landory's eyes went wide as an idea came to him. "We should talk to it... ask it if we can help... maybe offer to free it."

"Maybe. But we should be careful. Find out what happened first," said Julet. "It may be dangerous."

Landory looked like he was going to object but then he frowned and place a hand on his sisters arm. "Maybe... it has been captured. It is a spirit of the wild. It should be free, but held captive it could be insane with anger. If they've mistreated it..." Obviously there were stories about this in the books as well.

Julet shrugged his hand away. "Can we even talk to it though?" she pondered, "Will it understand us?"

Landory thought about this for a moment. "We could ask old widow Ligia. She must know woodspeech."

"Woodspeech?"

"The language of the fairies and elves. And satyrs, obviously!" Landory said with the certainty of the well learned.

Julet nodded. "Then we will speak to her after the funeral. Oh! She's bound to want to see the Satyr". She smiled; it looked like the truth would be uncovered, and any justice that needed serving would then be justly served.


An hour hence Nelly's party, with Dohn's body, arrived back at the village. Falltrick greeted them, he had a black shawl for Nelly, borrowed from the seamstress and news that Hann's dead son, Douglan, had already been buried that morning by his family. Falltrick had not been welcome, to his annoyance.

Dohn was to be buried in the orchards on the sloped beside the distillery and the ponds. His mother's family had owned barges so a traditional river burial, the body weighted with rocks, wrapped and sunk in the River, may have been expected but the decision had been made without Nelly. Dohn had never shown much interest in river life so a land burial was his due among the fruit trees, where Nelly's parents and many of the older generation had also been buried when the malaise had struck the village a decade before.

Falltrick led her to the graveside with his sword strapped to his back, she supposed as some ceremonial mark of his role as mayor and protector of the village. Dohn's mother was already waiting in her elegant black attire, her remaining children, the twins Julet and Landory, pouting sulkily at her side. Leaving the terrible duo, the stern woman turned towards the newcomers and Nelly stiffened as did Falltrick beside her as she approached, her face set like stone.

"Lily, I'm so sorry. He was really -" Nelly started.

"Don't say anything" said Dohn's mother halting before her and leaning over. Nelly cowered momentarily but, to her surprise, the older woman threw her arms around her shoulder and burying her head in her shoulder gave a great deep sob. "I don't want to hear about it. He's gone, my little boy..."

The rest was incoherent sobs and Nelly could only make comforting noises and pat the older woman on the back while she wondered whether she would be blessed have the same physique when she reached that age.

Eventually Dohn's mother broke the embrace and briefly wiping the tears from her eyes straightened up, gave a great sniff and set her face back to its normal stoniness before giving Nelly a curt nod and turning back to the remained of the party now gathering around the newly dug grave as a group of men carried the modest wooden coffin from wherever it had been.

There was little ceremony, Dohn's family or the rest of the village never gave much more than necessary lip service to the most relevant deities and major spirits that were directly relevant to their life, the river and earth goddesses, and those of animal husbandry and the growing of soft fruit. Falltrick had a few words. Olivania, the distiller, delivered most of the blessing and consignation to the Earth. She was a friend of Dohn's mother and was probably the most highly regarded matriarch in the village, due to the importance of the distillery. Despite that, or maybe because of it, she had always succeeded in remaining aloof of most of the village politics.

The coffin had been lowered into the deep hole. Even as the men shovelled the dry soil back over it and it disappeared from view Nelly could still feel no sadness or remorse or regret. Nothing but her guilt at her own insensitivity. Dohn's death hadn't left a hole in her life, that had been immediately filled by a thing monstrous and demanding. She waited until Dohn's mother, still composed, turned and left her side then, after a respectable pause, she let Falltrick lead her to the village centre. The old soldier was unexpectedly quiet.

An awning had been set out in front of Perita's store for the grieving families and the benches on either side were laden with food from donations and the communal larders. Nelly took her place standing beside Dohn's mother under the awning, ignoring the side glances from the whispering twins, Julet and Landory, as a procession of her fellow villagers formed to give their condolences.

First, by tradition she assumed, was the oldest resident of the village, Ligia, the widow escorted by her granddaughter, Imia. "So sorry about Douglan" she croaked her eyes brimming. Nelly didn't correct her but accepted the brief embrace. Suddenly the old woman suddenly stiffened and pulled back, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide, looking at Nelly's midriff. 

"Oh, my dear! You're with child!"

Nelly felt a knot in her stomach and sensed Dohn's mother beside her turn her head lightly. 

"No, I don't think so," she stammered. 

"Oh but you you are, my dear," the old woman asserted her eyes brimming. She placed a withered hand on Nelly's belly. "How wonderful that a part of your husband will endure."

Nelly could almost feel the beastman's spawn in her womb.

Ligia moved on to Dohn's mother and Nelly noticed that Imia's shy greeting to Julet was returned with a pouty scowl. She guessed that the two girls were about the same age but Imia's pretty elfin features, small stature and slender frame was the opposite of Julet's burgeoning voluptuousness. 

Next up for Nelly was the ancient miller Pitar. The spry old man embraced her tightly and whispered in her ear that if she was ever needing then she would know where to come while his hands groped her buttocks. She wondered how she had managed to get so drunk to have lain with him once, given that, at the time, he must have been four times her age.

Then there was the stable keeper Gethal and his wife followed by Perita and her husband, all paying her brief condolences before moving on to a show of more earnest sympathy to Dohn's mother.

Falltrick and Esmeia followed in the queue soon after and Esmeia, after a warm cuddle took a place beside and behind Nelly with Falltrick on the other side once he had given Dohn's mother a cursory word.

"How are you bearing up?" Esmeia asked, ignoring the dark looks and heightened whispering from Julet and Landory on the opposite side of Dohn's mother. 

"Alright. It's hard to remember not to smile to people," whispered Nelly.

"Thought I'd come down and keep you company. The cottage and everything is all sorted and secure for the moment. Also looking forward to the food," said Esmeia, "if you're stuck I'll get you something.

"Oh, and I got your stuff," she added in a low voice.

Nelly looked at the thinning procession of mourners. Dohn's mother had finished with the matriarchs and elders and led by the village's worthies the focus of the wake had turned to the food serving benches. The twins had apparently been given leave from their social duties now and took the opportunity to slope off.

"Should be alright soon I think," said Nelly as Den and Meg, her blonde cousin's eyes red and swollen, reached the front of the queue.

While Nelly was again swamped with hugs from her cousins Esmeia, surveying the growing crowd around the food tables, murmured: "Better get something before its too late," and slipped off. The distiller Olivania followed in line and gave Nelly some earnest words of comfort, her husband following with firm grip on her shoulder and a genuine sympathetic look as they promised Nelly any help she would need.

They were followed shortly by Timestra the seamstress. She was older than Nelly, late twenties but a dedicated spinster, as she had never had much social interaction with others of her age group. Just as well, Nelly thought, because in her younger days, she would probably have bullied her if she had made herself more visible. But now the diminutive woman embraced Nelly's tightly, her ample bosom pressing against Nelly's midriff while she buried her own head in Nelly's sparse chest for a good minute before breaking off and turning her round face towards her, brown eyes glistening against her rosy complexion. 

"I'm so sorry," the small woman said "I can't imagine what..." then she burst into tears.

"It's alright Timestra," said Nelly, trying to sound reassuring all the while wondering how people she and Dohn hardly knew managed to appear more upset than she. "Life goes on."

Timestra gave a sob and sniffed then changing the subject said in a small voice: "That shawl's a bit worn, I'm sorry. I don't need to loan it to people that often."

"Don't worry, it was lovely for you to let me borrow it," said Nelly truthfully as she had no intention of keeping a black mourning shawl as part of her wardrobe and was happy to return it. Even Ligia didn't dress in black these days despite never escaping the epithet of 'the widow'.

"I'm making you a dress though," said Timestra with a sniff and a nod, "a summery one, just for you."

Nelly was genuinely touched. "That's lovely but really you don't need to... I'll pay you at least."

"No!" said the seamstress, "I insist, it's a gift. For you and Dohn. It's going to be lovely, I'm cutting it for your figure, you really don't have anything that does it justice." Seemingly distracted now from her tears a few moments before she stepped back taking a moment to visually measure Nelly up. "I've already started anyway," she leant forward conspiratorially, "and maybe it'll help you find a new man."

"Oh, that's lovely," Nelly repeated.

After that there were a few more people before the line ended with the ancient miller Pitar again. He must looped back after the first time, she thought as he embraced her again, his hands once more being liberal with her buttocks and this time she felt a firm mound at his groin pressing against her own. Over his shoulder she rolled her eyes. Then the old lecher broke off and, to her surprise, planted his lips on hers. 

The kiss lasted only a moment before it was interrupted by Falltrick hissing "for fuck's sake" over her shoulder. And, she though a small cough from Lily. Pitar stepped away and with a wink and a toothy smile almost skipped off.

"I'm now the village's most eligible widow, now, aren't I?"

"Suppose so, not just widow I think" shrugged Falltrick. "Look if you want to slip off now we can find a spot beside the ponds for some peace."

Nelly reckoned he may just as well have added: and a fuck in one of the quiet spots while we can't use the barn.

"Maybe later." She wasn't really quite in the mood, at the moment. Not to forgive and open her legs for Falltrick again, anyway. "Oh, smoked fish, where did that come from?"

Esmeia had returned with bowls laden with food."A trader came in today, old friend old mine. She's heading up river but she'll be on her way down in a few days." She handed Nelly one of the bowls. "Had some earlier and shared it with Horny."

"Horny..?" said Nelly, then a moment later comprehension, "... oh, Gar-... fuck. I think 'Lover Boy' was a better name."

Esmeia chuckled and tucked into the contents of her own bowl: river snails in olive and garlic with some heavy brown bread. "Not the only thing the boat delivered." She nodded in the direction of Falltrick who had ambled off towards an unfamiliar woman, tall and dressed in hunter's leathers who was loitering at the corner of the store watching the wake with aloof interest. "Didn't get a name but I think she's intending to hunt beastmen. Decided to hop the boat when she saw dead sheep floating down the river." 

"Shit," said Nelly, "could be trouble?"

"At least I'm not getting all the 'stranger in the village' hostility now. Some of the looks I got when I was fetching food were pretty withering." 

"Yeah, no surprise around here," said Nelly her mouth full of smoked fish. They watched Falltrick talking to the tall huntress then, once he had finished and the woman disappeared they intercepted him at the food table.

Trebold the shepherd had already collared the big man, ostensibly to express his regret at not accepting Gromlin's  assertion that beastmen were behind the sheep killings but he also seemed to be taking the opportunity to have a little gloat over his rival's misfortune.

"Hey," said Nelly, barging in. Trebold shrugged and taking the hint sloped off. "Who's the new girl?"

"Vassela she said her name is," said Falltrick, grabbing his plate and using his bulk to steer the women away from he table and away from easy earshot of the throng. "My guess is former Illyian warrior, not a wanna-be but the real thing. She seems to know her business and has that fucking cold air about her. Serious. And she may be trouble. Watch out for her."

Nelly nodded with this affirmation of her own concerns. "Didn't think former Illyian' were a thing?" she said.

"Never heard of one, either" replied Falltrick, "but if she isn't the real thing then she's close enough that it doesn't matter." 

"She has died her hair red, but she is probably  a natural blonde... " observed Esmeia. "Illyians are always blonde, for some reason."

Nelly knitted her brow. She didn't know much about the order save that they were fanatical warriors and a lot of young women aspired to join them. That and what Esmeia had told her yesterday on the hunt about their interest in the acquisition and use of severed beastman genitals and the implication of deep corruption under the puritanical surface.

"In any case she's got wind of the beastmen and now she's here. Probably heading out to the ravine - where somebody... " Falltrick gave a meaningful side glance at Esmeia "... told her they could be found. Problem is that if she's any good at tracking she might well find a trail of us and you-know-who leading back here. To your barn."

"Shit," said Nelly. "I suppose I could sweep the yards and the path. 

"Well, yeah but she's likely to be able to work out who was there though... if she's that good, of course. I wouldn't trust Habel to be able to work out a trail in that detail... it does take a bit of skill."

"Well lets hope she's not as good as hunting as he is at scaring the shit out of people," said Esmeia.

"Where is Habel?" said Esmeia.

"In the Inn, probably. Avoiding this," said Falltrick.

"I think our Illyian has rented out there. Better make sure he keeps his mouth closed if she runs into him."

"Fuck yeah, good thinking," said Falltrick. "I'll chase him down and make sure he keeps his mouth closed. See if I can give our huntress a few false leads as well.

"Well I'm going to stock up a plate and head back to the cottage before I start melting with all the looks I'm getting," said Esmeia. "You coming?"

"I'll probably have to stay for a while," sighed Nelly. Falltrick nodded. "Keep up appearances. Maybe outlast Lily... Dohn's mother... if I can. You'd better get on though. I've lost sight of the twins." 

"I notice they have bottles of the local hooch. But I think they are waiting 'til I go away before they break them out." said Esmeia. 

"I'll see if I can snag you one. If we are lucky it's Olivania's good stuff."

"Well it won't be long I suppose, see you back at the cottage".

"Yep, see ya" replied Nelly, as Esmeia set off, and she turned back to the party.