Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ferox took us swiftly down the northern road and I couldn't help but notice with a shudder that the further we traveled the fewer houses there were until they stopped altogether. After five bouncy miles, Ferox slowed and turned us off onto a leftward road. The new path traveled only a half mile before we were stopped by a wall of trees and brush.

I looked around for any signs of life or any evidence the road had continued onward in some past life, but there was nothing. "Nice spot for a murder," I mused as Ben helped me down from the carriage.

"The woods are patrolled by the werewolves," Ben assured me. I wasn't really that assured as I felt my courage drain from me. Ben took my hand and I looked up to find him smiling at me. "There's no need to worry. I would make more than enough meal for a werewolf."

I swatted his arm with my free hand and glared at him. "That's not funny!"

Ben turned to face me and clasped both my hands in his grasp. His gentle smile soothed my frayed nerves as his thumb brushed over my ring. "There's no need to worry. The werewolves won't harm those who don't mean them any harm, and some of them know me."

"As what? An appetizer?"

He chuckled. "As a friend, but we should hurry. It's a hike to where we need to go and Fyson is expecting his vegetables before sunset."

Ben guided me through the brush and after about thirty yards I realized we were on a very disused path. Weeds and grasses covered the ground and bush and tree branches stuck out from all directions, repeatedly blocking our way.

"So where exactly are we going?" I asked him as I ducked under a low branch. "I mean, besides heading to certain doom."

"There's an old meeting spot for those friendly with the werewolves," Ben told me as he held a branch so I could pass. "We just need to wait there and our scent will alert them to our presence."

"And then supper will start," I added. I turned to find a worried expression on his face, but I grinned back with a twinkle in my eyes. "I suppose it's too late to ask if I'm in your will."

A crooked smile slipped onto his lips as he resumed the lead through the dense foliage. "I might have made a bequest on your behalf."

I lifted an eyebrow and hurried after him. "Like what?"

He stared straight ahead as he replied. "You'll inherit my favorite toothbrush."

My face drooped. "Hardy-har-har, very funny."

Ben snatched up one of my hands and pressed a light kiss to the back. "There's no need to worry. You'll be taken care of, whether wedded or not."

"By you?" I insisted.

"Or my surviving kin," he teased as he quickened his pace. "But we should-"

That's when I crashed into Ben's back. He had frozen and his red eyes darted around the area. My pulse quickened as I tried to decipher what he saw.

Ben's hand slipped into mine and he spoke in a low whisper. "Whatever happens, stay close to me."

‘Whatever happens' happened at just that moment as a dozen burly and hairy men leapt out of the bushes. They landed on bare, clawed feet in a circle, entrapping us. Some of them bore spears, but most had only their bare hands. That was enough as I realized their fingers were in fact long claws with very sharp points. Our captors wore rough fur skins slung across their hairy bodies, and all had long dark brown hair.

Ben held up his hands and nudged my arm with his shoulder. I took the hint and did the same with my hands.

One of the hairy men stepped forward and eyed Ben. He was a head taller than the rest and his hair was as black as night. His narrowed eyes were without pity as he studied us. Fangs stuck out the bottom of his upper lip as his wide nostrils flared.

"Who are you that you would trespass in our woods?" he questioned us.

"My name is Count Benjamin Castle," Ben told him as he nodded at me. "And this is my fiancé, Millie Lucas. We've come here to find answers to our questions."

The man's lips curled back in a snarl. "Our words are not some playground for wealthy humans. You will return to the road or you will face our wrath."

"We were merely hoping for an audience with your king, Eall," Ben assured him. "Perhaps we can offer assistance to one another-"

"We don't need the help of human filth!" the man snapped. "You will leave now or-"

"That's no way to treat our guests, Gasric," a voice spoke up.

Our captors parted and allowed a young man of twenty-five to step into the ring. He was less hairy than the others, with only a stubble of red hair on his chin, though he wore the same rough attire. His physique was also slimmer but nearly a head taller than the others. The man's long red hair cascaded down his shoulders and back, giving him a look of fiery fury. His eyes, however, belied a gentleness and a mischievous spark. A sword hung at his hip via a looped piece of rope and he wore a necklace of teeth around his neck. I couldn't help but notice they looked suspiciously like human teeth.

The newcomer folded his arms over his chest and eyed Ben with that mischievous glint. "I see you have caught quite the prize. It's not every day a scion of the House of Rookwood comes calling."

The mention of Ben's maternal line caused a few murmured whispers to rise from the group. Gasric scoffed. "Whatever their lineage, the king ordered me to keep all trespassers out of the forest."

"We kept to the Path of Fellowship and sought only to reach the glade," Ben insisted.

Gasric scowled at him. "Whatever you sought, human, you won't find it in these woods."

"I'll see to their leaving, Gasric," the other man insisted as he clapped a hand on Ben's shoulder. "You and your men can go back to your hunting for rabbits."

Gasric's eyes filled with fury and he balled his clawed hands into fists. I tensed for a fight, but he turned and marched into the brush. His men followed and soon we found ourselves alone with the stranger.

The werewolf let out a puff of air and the tension in his shoulders lifted. He turned to us and grinned. "Always the troublemaker, Ben."

Ben grinned. "I recall getting into more than one trouble because of a certain werewolf."

The man wagged a finger at Ben. "It was all because of your encouragement and many people haven't forgiven me for the ‘fun' you suggested."

Ben let out a laugh. "Do they still call you Dangerous Deor?"

"Only the old-timers," Deor replied as he puffed out his chest a little. "Those under me call me Blysa Deor."

Ben crossed his arm over his chest and swept into a low bow. "Then it's a great honor to be in such illustrious company."

Deor playfully slammed a fist against the exposed back of Ben's head. "Knock it off."

Ben stumbled but caught himself before he fell face-first to the leaf-littered ground. He straightened and gave Deor a sheepish grin. "You haven't changed a bit."

"I'd like to think I've grown some," Deor mused as he gestured to a path I hadn't noticed before. "But shall we walk and talk? I have my guard duties to attend to, as well, and they were rudely interrupted by the stench of a dragon."