An Old Wives Tale: Chapter One
A Tale of Northund
The sky was already glowing a glorious crimson, almost the same shade as Rosie’s face after she had slipped on wet leaves and fallen, by the time Michael and Rosie entered the village of Longwillow. Rosie was still picking leaves off of her dress and out of her hair as they passed through the wooden gate. Inside, Michael saw two elf maids laughing as they collected fresh water, likely not at Rosie, but at some joke they were sharing, probably at some poor lad’s expense. Looking around, it seemed like Longwillow would be lively place during the day, though at this hour not many were about.
The two had been sent by their master, Galin, on some business he wished them to attend to, since he was too busy to do it himself. And here they were, still a day’s journey or two from their destination. Michael usually enjoyed these excursions, whether by himself or with Galin, because he always got to see some new area, obtain some relic, treasure, or ancient tome, or learn something new. Rosie on the other hand, had been rather put off this whole time, preferring to be in bed in the little home Galin let her have, than be off doing Galin’s work, likely his dirty work.
“Let’s find the inn and get us some rooms,” Rosie said, looking around nervously. Michael hoped she wouldn’t complain anymore—at least not tonight.
“Probably at the village square he said, looking forwards to good stew and a comfy bed. Without any further words, they started for the center of the village, where Michael hoped the square was, but he had been to villages and towns with strange layouts, so they weren’t guaranteed to find in right in the middle. The two elf maids, having collected their water, were coming their way.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Michael said with a polite smile, “but can either of you tell me, perchance, where a good inn is?”
One of them was about to say something, no doubt flirtatious, when the other not so subtly elbowed her and motioned to Rosie. Michael tried his hardest not to laugh as the second elf spoke up, “If you’d like to follow us, we’re returning to the best inn in these parts—and the only one in this village.”
“Lead on,” Michael said with a small bow. “And many thanks.”
“I don’t like it here,” Rosie said quietly.
“What’s wrong?” Michael asked, concerned. He hadn’t seen anything to be suspicious of, and he worked for Galin, so he knew what suspicious looked like. That thought made him laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” Rosie said indignantly.
“Of course not, Rosie my love,” Michael said, both of the elf maids giggled, but he ignored them. “I was just thinking about how Master Galin is the kind of person one might ordinarily want to avoid, and so if anyone would be suspicious, it would be him, or I, for that matter.”
She didn’t seem to believe him. Michael shrugged and let it pass. They both loved each other and Michael intended on asking for her hand in marriage soon, so it wouldn’t benefit either to make a big deal out of nothing. He’d talk to her about come morning. Galin, however, had yet to ask the princess Lily, who was now back in her own kingdom, if she would marry him. And daily it felt, Galin received letters as long as books, to which he replied in kind. He would be wed to Rosie before Galin was wed, Michael vowed.
They came to the inn, and walking through the door, Michael saw where everyone was. That or the tavern across the street. One of the two elf maids saw Michael looking behind him through the open doorway and guessed what was on his mind.
“We like to try and stay busier than the tavern.”
“I’m going to sit down,” Rosie said, walking towards an empty table.
“Eat something too, we’ve been walking all day,” Michael said. “I want to talk and learn about our surroundings like Master Galin always tells me.”
“Have it your way, I am not doing a thing. If Galin wants something, he can jolly well get it himself.” With and angry little noise she plopped herself in a chair and ignored everyone around her, luckily including the handsome young man nearby. Michael chuckled. When Rosie didn’t want to do something, she very much did not want to do it, and didn’t make any attempts to hide that fact. She did what Galin said, but she did like to let it all out, usually on Michael, and usually within earshot of Galin.
Michael went to the counter, hoping she’d cheer up soon, and asked the bartender for a stein of ale. A dwarf missing half an ear sat down next to him. Despite looking like he needed a good bath and a trim, he smelled like soap and good hygiene.
“Know what is beyond this forest?” Michael asked after drinking deeply of his ale.
“Not much,” the dwarf said, stroking his long beard in a pitiable attempt to smooth it. “I’ve been in these parts as a smith and sometimes a farmer for near two hundred years and I’ve never been far that way.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I like it here.” He ordered another ale while Michael sipped his.
“I believe there’s ruins there,” said a man with plenty of grey in his hair and beard. “Been there once meself when I was young and in love. That was before me wife got lost, ya know, and never showed herself again.”
“Lost?” Michael asked surprised. “Haven’t you tried to find her?”
“Aye,” he said. “We both got separated in this village some years ago and never found e’chother since. But back then, our papas didn’t quite like e’chother I spose, so they didn’t approve of us and were pleased with the outcome.” He went on for some time, but said little of the ruins.
“No one likes to go up that ways,” he finished, suddenly veering off topic.
“Why? Michal asked, curiously. If it was haunted, or dangerous, it was good to know now.
“Some folk are superstitious,” he said. “But there is nothing up thataways. Trust me and those who have actually been there.”
“You’ve been inside?”
“Aye, but only a moment. Others have been in for longer and have never seen nor heard naught to give alarm for anyone. Old tales told for a good scare turned superstition is what it be, take my word for it.” The dwarf and some other bystanders listening all nodded.
“Good, because that is our destination,” Michael said, finishing his ale. Ordering another as well as a large bowl of stew and some bread and cheese, he turned back to converse with the three some more.
“If yer headed towards the ruins I’ll bring ye halfway,” the dwarf said as Michal received his food.
“Many thanks,” Michael said. “When shall we start?”
“At first light, I should think.”
“Splendid.” Michael continued to talk with them and others long into the night, trying to learn what he could about the surrounding area and the mansion.
Rosie wished Michael would join her when he got his food, but she knew he would be going around talking, and seeing as she did not want to bother with all that, she ate alone.
Not long after she finished, three old women sat down, having finished whatever it was they had been doing. Rosie didn’t really care at that point. Her sour mood and shifted from Galin to include Michael as well as Galin, and those two elf maids. Why had they tried to flirt with Michael? What gave them that right? Why had Galin sent them on this wild hunt for a book? A book of all things! Why wasn’t he doing it himself? And why was Michael not sitting next to her? Why was he ignoring her? She knew the last one might be unfair and that he might be trying to let her calm down, but she let herself be angry. Also, her feet hurt and she had wanted to be doing other things, like being in her own bed.
Her angry thoughts were interrupted and soon dissipated by what the old women had to say.
“What’s wrong, deary?” said one of them in a voice that sounded two times older than she looked.
“Oh, its a lot of things,” she said, pushing her half eaten bowl of stew away. “Really, I guess I just don’t really want to be doing this—that and I wish Michael was sitting with me.”
“I’m sure he’ll come,” said the woman who appeared to be the eldest and respected in some way by the other two.
“Have you heard the news?” the third woman said. She had thinning hair, and sparse stubble on her chin, of which any child of the dwarves would be envious of.
“What is it, Ethil?” asked the first.
“I’ve heard lots of small things,” said the second.
“A young woman was found dead this morning,” Ethil said. “It is believed to be a ghost, from the old mansion.” It was here that all of Rosie’s anger disappeared, replaced with fear and dread.
“Pardon the intrusion, but is the mansion the one up north in the woods?” Rosie asked.
“Such impertinence,” said Ethil said, but she was interrupted by the first.
“Can’t you see she’s worried?”
“Quite right, Ivy, besides, after we talked to her, she might have thought she was part of the conversation,” said the second. “What is wrong, deary?”
“Well,” she began, and explained, as best she could without saying too much, why she was here.
The three crones exchanged looks, then Ethil spoke. “It has long been held that that mansion is haunted, and none go there as superstitions have lived a long while. Many stories surround that wretched place. They say a woman and her family were murdered by her sister there many years ago. Many others are much more horrific—some less so—but none are pleasant.”
“Quite right, but it is not fact that it is haunted,” said Ivy. “Remember, these are tales passed down that do not agree with each other.” She had a feeling this was said to ease her mind.
“But to disregard them,” said the eldest, “would be folly. Those stories came from something and persist for a reason. Be on your guard, if you must go there. perhaps it is haunted by ghosts or perhaps it isn’t.” They went on to tell Rosie of all the different tales surrounding that house, the things some claimed to have seen, and the things said to dwell there. The dread in Rosie’s heart grew, and she wished Michael was there to comfort her.
She didn’t want to believe their destination was haunted, or was a place of evil, but the women seemed to be authorities on the subject, and they believed there was something there. Either way, she was unable to shake off the thought, now firmly rooted in her mind.
Michael had retired to his room and was mulling over what he had learned, when he heard a knock at the door.
“What is it?” he asked, and the door opened. “Rosie, are you alright?”
“Yes, for now,” she replied cryptically. “Can we go home?”
“Course not,” Michael said. “Don’t be silly, nothing will happen. Besides, we are leaving at first light tomorrow. One of the locals was kind enough to give us a ride most of the way there.”
“Most of the way?” Rosie asked, a quiver in her voice.
“He said he’d take us all the way there, but he had some business to attend to tomorrow, and therefore couldn’t take us all the way. It should save us quite a bit of walking.”
“Can’t I,” she began but appeared to think better of it. “Must we?”
“I don’t see why not?” Michael said thoughtfully. “I don’t see how anything could go wrong, other than the tome eluding us for the better part of a week. Get your rest, Rosie my love, since it’ll be a long day tomorrow. We’ll be home safe and sound before you know it.”
Rosie looked as if she were about to say something, then stopped. Turning, she said, “Good night, Michael.” After he wished her a good night and good dreams, she left for her own room, which Michael had of course paid for.
Knowing a good night’s sleep after a hearty meal would help put Rosie in a better mood the next morning, Michael lay down to sleep, his dreams uninterrupted by anything. Rosie on the other hand, barely slept a wink. She was having trouble falling asleep, thinking she heard or saw things, and when she did sleep, her dreams were filled with things she would rather not see.
The End for now, God bless To read more about the characters in this story go here.