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[Rough Draft] Chapter 29: Those Who Slumber Beneath
“Welcome back, Cousin!” Bromwell greeted leisurely as he waved at Carina from where he lay stretched across a circle of blankets and pillows that had been laid out for a picnic-like lunch. Marco glanced up from his cushioned seat, pillowed against a birch tree. The young Viscount said nothing as he focused on the long-curled smoke pipe in his hand upon which he inhaled deeply, then blew out tendrils of brown smoke into the breeze.
“You look comfortable, Cousin,” Carina murmured as she loosened the buttons of her jacket. The mid-day sun had long smothered away any lingering coolness, even in the shade, which left only the occasional warm breeze to tease the sweat already collecting along her hair, neck, and beneath the uncomfortable fabric of her riding gown.
“Good thing we refilled our canteens,” Hana murmured as she opened hers for a quick drink. “Are we waiting to prepare some sort of lunch, or should we just eat the provisions we prepared?”
“I believe his Majesty said to eat what we brought and prepare to head out soon,” Bromwell answered with a wave towards a grove of trees where Nicholas and the Prime Minister conversed in the shade with Beaumont close at hand. “The crown prince said he wanted to ensure the Duchess started with an impressive number of kills for our first day. Then some missive arrived from the palace.”
Carina raised a hand to shield her eyes as she curiously studied the monarch and Prime Minister. “I see.” She lowered her hand and surveyed the blankets. “Well, we should eat first, then.”
A quick meal of dried sweet fruit, salty nuts, and crunchy bread that needed a bit of water to chew comfortably, soon filled Carina’s stomach. The heat seemed to melt everything in sight. Hana retrieved the umbrella strapped to her saddle, and soon the three of them, Hana, Carina, and Ivy, were curled up against warm silk pillows, sheltered by the waving branches and Hana’s blue, laced parasol.
The smell of grass, flowers, and pine needles mingled with the warm harmony of birds, crickets, and the chatter of the nearby camp site. Carina laced her fingers across her chest and watched as Hana readjusted a few pins that had fallen loose with Ivy’s blonde hair.
“This heat makes me want to sleep,” Carina grumbled. “Or swim in a river.”
“Now there’s a thought,” Nicholas chuckled as he approached their tree. “Sorry to intrude, but Attwood needed to send off a reply for me, so while we’re waiting on his return, I thought Lady Kirsi might like to take advantage of Captain Beaumont’s offer to teach her the crossbow.”
‘Oh, right,’ Carina thought lazily as she sat up.
Beaumont stepped forward and offered his hand, which Carina took after a moment’s hesitation. He pulled the Duchess to her feet easily as a knight brought over Iker’s crossbow.
“Thank you,” Carina murmured as she pulled her hand free from the Captain’s grasp and took knocked the crossbow to the leather strap across her chest. She paused as she became aware of Hana and Ivy studying her curiously. “If either of you would like to come and watch—”
“No,” Hana said far too quickly as she rose to her feet. “I think Ivy and I shall fetch flowers to make a crown for our Goddess of the Hunt.”
“What—flowers?” A baffled Carina stared after the pair as Ivy clasped Hana’s hand willing, and they took off towards the nearest patch of wildflowers. “Hana—”
“If you want us to get any decent amount of practice in, we should head out now,” Beaumont said causally as he adjusted the crossbow strap on Carina’s shoulder.
The Duchess frowned as she turned to face the knight captain and then noticed the crown prince had already moved off to where Marco sat beneath a haze of smoke. “Are we going somewhere?”
“There is a practice field further north,” Beaumont explained as he walked past her. “We can take the horses or walk—”
“If it’s not too far, I’d prefer to stretch my legs,” Carina replied. “But we should bring the horses all the same in case the Prime Minister returns earlier than expected.”
Beaumont nodded his agreement and headed towards the line of tethered horses to retrieve their mounts.
***
“What news did his Majesty receive?” Carina asked curiously after they had walked a fair distance from the rest of the hunting party. Gilwren Manor and the surrounding campsite lay to their left, with only a few servants visible moving from tent to tent as they prepared or served the nobles who had returned from the forest.
“It’s not my place to say,” Beaumont deflected as he nodded towards a path in the trees ahead. “The target field is just up this way.”
“It must have been important if the Prime Minister had to write an immediate reply,” Carina pressed. “Would it—have anything to do with the sickness in the slums—of which I am already aware.”
Beaumont sighed as he unclasped his cloak and tossed the heavy fabric over his horse’s saddle. “The information did relate to the sickness the Duchess discovered in the slums, but—” his violet eyes glanced back at her for a moment before he added, “—that is something you should probably ask his Majesty about.”
A clearing appeared ahead of them, filled with tall golden, green grass. From the branches of two giant oak trees, four target boards tied to a rope swayed lazily in the breeze.
“Here we are,” Beaumont said, already tying his horse to a low-hanging branch.
“Enough of the half-truths and vague helpfulness, Captain!” Carina snapped as she tied off her white stallion and followed after him. “What harm could possibly come from telling me about a sickness that I already know about? And what did you mean earlier about the Marquess not being the only enemy I have in the forest?”
A strong breeze seemed to explode through the trees around them as the targets spun and danced above the wild grass that tangled around carina’s dress and riding boots. The Duchess stopped to shield her eyes from the flurry of pollen, dirt, pine needles, and leaves that pelted her face, neck, and dress mercilessly. Her left eye twitched uncomfortably, and her vision quickly blurred as tears swelled beneath her trembling lashes, forcing Carina to blink rapidly.
“Your Grace?” Beaumont’s voice sounded worried even as he moved to shelter her from the petulant wind.
“I’m fine—I just—the wind blew something into my eye.”
A sigh greeted her ear before Beaumont’s, much closer this time, muttered in a tone of amusement, “You make it impossible not to worry, Kirsi.”
Carina blinked as Beaumont’s arms suddenly lifted her above the grass, and they continued towards the swaying targets. “Why are you—I am perfectly capable of walking, Captain!” she snapped, then hastily adjusted the crossbow so that it pointed away from Beaumont’s left shoulder. Through the annoying tears that still flowed down her left cheek, Carina cast a worried glance over the knight’s shoulder and sighed in relief to find the clearing free from any observers. ‘Perhaps I should have brought Captain Isaac along—he certainly would have given you an earful.’
A few feet later, Carina’s discomfort and embarrassment shifted back to annoyance as she focused her suspicious gaze on the Captain’s face. “Don’t think you can dodge my questions that easily either!”
A smile played across Beaumont’s lips. Then his grip relaxed, and he lowered Carina back down. “Of course not, your Grace. How is your eye?”
Carina blinked cautiously and, finding the discomfort had finally abated, pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to dry her cheek. “It’s fine now.”
“Good,” Beaumont murmured.
Carina blinked cautiously as she tested her vision, then started when Beaumont brushed the loose strands of hair away from her eyes. His thumb grazed down her cheek, and a strange pulse seems to quicken inside Carina’s chest and the very earth beneath her feet.
‘He’s too close.’ Carina took a step back, her mind drawn inadvertently to a similar scene where Beaumont knelt in a pile of crumbling earth, fighting off the Death Mark he had taken for her. Carina’s gaze moved from his steady violet eyes to the lips that she had kissed when she infused him with ice magic to cool down the destructive flames burning within him.
A jolt surged through Carina’s chest as she took two hasty steps back, then gasped as Beaumont caught her shoulders and pulled her suddenly against his chest. “What are you—” Her words trail off as a branch snapped loudly in the suddenly quiet forest behind her. Beaumont’s grip tightened, and though Carina can barely move, she could sense that his attention was focused on whatever had made that sound.
The snap of roots, creak of branches, and groans that filtered across the clearing sent a sudden chill down Carina’s spine as she tried, unsuccessfully, to turn her head and look. Beaumont’s right hand pressed against her back while his left moved to blindfold Carina’s eyes.
‘What is it? Why is he—Lumi!’
The Duchess’s eyes shifted white beneath the knight’s hand. Her darkened vision collided with that of five other pairs of eyes. Carina blinked and focused her attention until she found a scriva near their hunting party. With a single nudge, the wolf rose from its watchful guard over Hana and Ivy and raced in the Duchess’s direction.
“Revertere,” Beaumont growled harshly. His tone brittle and hard as his grip tightened around Carina, his arm now folded protectively over her face. “Hoc regnum est!”
Through the wolf’s eyes Carina could see nothing but trees as the wolf raced closer. The scriva fur translucent fur made it so that even if a human glanced in its direction, they would only be temporarily blinded by the light reflecting off the wolf’s body.
‘Hurry!’ Carina urged frantically. Beaumont’s armor pressed against her cheek seemed to resound with her own racing heartbeat as the snaps and groans grew closer and seemed to grow in number. Her hands pressed against Beaumont’s chest plate as the Duchess tried to turn towards the hostile eyes she could feel digging into her back.
The scriva’s vision found them, and Carina stiffened as the wolf skid to a halt. Between the Duchess, knight captain, and the scriva stood three towering tree-like figures. At least, if trees were the color of tar, with monstrous faces carved into their trunk and baren branches that resembled limbs with claw-like fingers.
Unlike the birch, pine, and oak trees around them that all seemed to relish the sunlight, these figures seemed cautious of the light—or rather, they appeared to emanate darkness. The foul stench of rot, decay, and mold perforated the breeze while their gnarled roots slithered and hissed with black smoke whenever a ray of sunlight found its way through the leaves above them.
The arm wrapped around Carina’s face lowered around her shoulders as Beaumont removed his right hand and reached for the long sword at his back. “Revertere!” The threat beneath the knight captain’s commands made Carina tremble.
Through the scriva’s eyes, the Duchess watched as the dark, nightmarish figures dug their way back into the earth. Soon enough, only their black roots remained to swept leaves, dirt, and pine needles overhead to hide any trace of their appearance.
“What-what were they?” Carina asked breathlessly as she pulled away from Lumi’s vision. Beaumont slowly relaxed his grip and stepped back. The Duchess quickly turned but found only a silent field and empty shadows beneath the swaying branches of withered leaves that fell towards the moss-covered forest.
‘Danger,’ Lumi’s voice cautioned with an ominous hint of dread.
“They are called—Darklings,” Beaumont answered grimly, finally breaking the tense silence. “Once—they were witches. But they sacrificed their mind, body, and soul to find immortality. Now nothing of their human form remains except malice, greed, and endless suffering.”
Carina swallowed as she turned back to study the knight curiously. “What did they—”
“The heart of an ice-witch—” Beaumont replied as his violet eyes focused on her, “—is temptation enough to wake even those who slumber deep within the earth.”
The Duchess shivered as she turned back to the shadows, then raised her crossbow and pulled a bolt from her quiver.
“Ax and arrow can’t hurt them,” Beaumont said bluntly as he observed her movements. “Only fire.”
“Haa—” Carina let out a shaky sigh as she snapped the bolt in place. “Then why—did they listen to you?” She turned back towards the knight captain, determined to get an answer this time. “And that language you spoke—you’re a witch, aren’t you?”
“I do not have to be a witch to speak their language,” Beaumont replied with a dismissive shrug of his left shoulder.
“You’re dodging my question again!”
Beaumont met her gaze and then looked away with a sigh. “I’m not a witch or a half-witch.”
Carina blinked, caught off guard by his sudden honesty. “Then—what are you?”
Warm sunlight flooded the clearing once more. Carina welcomed its embrace as it chased away the chill left in the Darkling’s wake. The strong breeze returned to tease Beaumont’s silver-blonde hair as his violet eyes danced towards her and then away.
“Are you—” the knight captain began hesitantly, “—still afraid of me?”
“What?” Carina blinked back at him and scowled in confusion. “No. Should I be?”
A smile of relief overtook Beaumont’s worried expression. The knight captain shook his head quickly and then turned back in the direction they came. “We should head back. It would not be wise to linger here.”
“Haa—” Carina shook her head as she glanced towards the shadows once more uneasily. “Is anywhere in this forest safe?”
“From Darklings?” Beaumont drew in a deep breath. “As long as you stay in the sunlight.”
‘Why do I feel like he’s not telling me everything.’
“We still have three more days to practice your shooting,” Beaumont called over his shoulder as he headed towards their horses. “Besides, Kirsi already knows how to shoot a crossbow.”
“Kirsi?” Carina hissed out sharply. “How do you—Wait!” She trudged through the tall grass that battled against her skirt once more and quickly hopped onto the path left behind the knight captain. “Wait!”
Beaumont drank from his canteen as he waited for her beside the speckled gray warhorse called Titan.
“How do you—know about, Kirsi?” Carina hissed as she caught up to him.
Beaumont let out a dry laugh as he sealed his canteen. “You really aren’t the same as before,” he muttered as he hooked the drink back over his saddle. “And here I thought you choose that name because you wanted to provoke old enemies.”
“What?”
Beaumont leaned against the warhorse with a sigh. “It should be my turn to ask a question.” The knight captain’s violet eyes snapped towards her as he turned and crossed his arms. “How can you be the same person—and yet completely different?”
“I don’t know what you—”
“I know Kirsi, the Scarlet Witch whose name you choose. I know—you!” Beaumont growled as he gestured towards her. “Your soul is unmistakable, Kirsi. But either your memories have been severely altered or—”
Carina’s grip on the crossbow tightened beneath his conflicted stare. “I’m not Kirsi. I’m not—the Scarlet Witch.”
Beaumont’s gaze narrowed, then he sighed and turned back towards Titan. “You are—and you are not. I can see that you are just as confused as I am.”
“How do you—know Kirsi?” Carina asked hesitantly.
“Like you, I also have memories of—other lives,” Beaumont answered quietly as he untied Titan’s reins. “In them, I have either met or at least heard of the Isbrand Witch.” Beaumont pulled his cape from the saddle and adjusted it around his shoulders once more. “Every time I wake up in the past, my memories are submerged—until I meet you again.” He turned, and his violet eyes focused on Carina once more. “You are Kirsi—but this time, you are different. I don’t understand why but—perhaps it has something to do with Maura’s memories?”
Carina shook her head quickly, then looked away. “No, it’s—a bit more complicated than that.”
“Yes. The gods are fond of complicating things,” Beaumont muttered and then let out a heavy sigh. “In any case—I am sorry for my part—in Maura’s death. I wish you did not have to live with that memory.”
Carina stared back at him; guilt and something like relief seemed to ease the tension in her shoulders as she studied Maura’s executioner. “Do you know why—Maura had to die?”
Beaumont sighed and shook his head. “The weeks leading up to her death are still a blur of memories for me—I assume Veles locked them away to prevent me from interfering in this timeline.”
“Veles? The god of wind?”
“Yes. Veles controls the reversal of time.” Beaumont glowered at the breeze that still stirred the forest around them. “Always meddling—trying to alter the past and future.”
“Why?” When Beaumont raised a brow, Carina quickly clarified. “Why does he keep turning back time?”
“Because the gods want—No, they need you to make a choice, Kirsi.”
“What choice?”
A strong rush of wind nearly knocked Carina off her feet as the trees swayed and creaked beneath the furry. Once more, Beaumont pulled Carina towards him, but this time she reacted on instinct and turned to look behind her. The Duchess stared in confusion at the old man standing in the middle of the clearing in dark, worn robes, then started as two blood-red eyes stared from beneath the man’s shroud back at her. From over the specter’s shoulders, two impossibly massive, raven-black wings rose towards the forest’s crown to block out the sun.
“You are breaking the rules!” A ghoulish, vicious voice echoed across the clearing towards them. Behind Beaumont, Titan balked. The warhorse’s body slammed into the tree and jostled against Carina’s white stallion, which yanked frantically against its tether. She barely heard their terrified cries beneath the hurricane of wind that swirled around them with threatening intensity. “You cannot have it both ways. If you want to protect her, then you must choose a side.”
The malicious, powerful gaze shifted from the defiant, unmoving knight captain over to Carina as the sharp cry of a wailing baby filled her ears. “You are running out of time, Kirsi—we are all running out of time. Return your heart to Viktor—or suffer the consequences!”