Here's the blurb:
The Beginning:
For every step in the right direction,
There’s one that lingers in the dark.
Forgive the stability of my expression,
But the truth stands still inside the spark.
For what you know cannot be true,
There’s a different path in sight.
Don’t worry, history doesn’t blame you,
It just wants to set the tale right.
The wolf was real, the girl a sham,
Real humanity in the village was kept.
The hunger inside is quite grand,
So you better watch your step.
The Beginning is a novelette for the Guarding the Vila series. It takes place before Red. It is approx. 10k words and is a short-story.
Enjoy!
*
And this warning take, I beg;
Not every wolf runs on four legs.
The smooth tongue of a smooth-skinned creature
May mask a rough and wolfish nature.
These quiet types for all their charm,
Can be the cause of the worse harm.
-Charles Perrault; Little Red Riding Hood
France, Fall of 1697
*
The dew had yet to be disturbed and the leaves lit the ground on fire with their
color. The wooden cabins lay laced with mist, hardly visible from my window, while they
sat in the distance. I should have been soaking up the beauty, loving the morning before
the winter turned it cold, but Mama had woken me too early after her long trip from
Grandmere's, causing my mood to turn fouler with each passing breath. No amount of
beauty, or threat of its extinction, could soften the sour look I gave the dawn.
"Scarlett," she called. "Wake up! Grandmere is sick and cannot get out of bed.
The wolves are said to roam this time of year, so I need you to get up so you can
go and light the fires for her tonight. She is too weak to do them herself and I
must go to town and fetch your sister to help take care of her."
I mumbled sleepily and rolled over, trying to ignore the urgency in her voice.
"Girl, wake up!"
She shook me heavily as I tried to burrow deeper under my covers, when
suddenly she tore them off completely. She scowled, tapping her foot impatiently, as I
crawled begrudgingly from my bed to get dressed. I did not want to be up and I did not
care to walk the distance to Grandmere's. This could wait, I was certain, but if I did not
do as I was asked, I would be left no coin for food, and Mama's temper would flare
when she returned. It seemed far better, for now, to appease her. She quickly kissed my
head as she pulled on her cape.
"You know what you must do?"
I rolled my eyes with my back still turned towards her.
"Yes, Mama. Light the fires at Grandmere's." I could hear the rustle of her skirts
moving away from me.
"And you must do it before dark. Do not stray, Scarlett. I'm trusting you."
Before I could say more she was out the door and on her way to the town a half-
day’s walk north. I couldn't help grumbling, cursing at my unfortunate luck, as the chill of
the floor crept through my bare feet. I should have been married off long ago, released
from being a burden on my family and from having their burden on me. But at twenty I
was still living at home, taking care of Mama as if I were an old maid. It was customary
for fathers to pick a future husband to take care of his daughter as soon as she was of
age. My father had done all of this, choosing a boy about my age named Jacques. He
was brave and eager to become the lead hunter's apprentice, convincing father of his
worth even though he came from humble beginnings. My father always called him a
wolf in sheep's clothing, insisting he was more predator than goat herder. All had been
set until my betrothed died at the age of sixteen, weeks short of when we would have
been wed, alongside my father.
Papa had taken him on an early hunting trip, training him. They did not stand a
chance. The wolves tore them apart to the point that they were barely recognizable. The
only indicator that it was them were the pieces of clothing strewn on the ground and the
emblem embedded in my father's chewed fist, declaring him the lead hunter of our
village. Since his death, Mama had refused to give me away and her fear of the wolves
had been palpable. The fires were key to keeping the beasts at bay, but as I stood in
the morning light, I could not bring myself to head into the woods towards the cabin. I
did have a little time until it would be absolutely necessary to leave in order to be there
before dark. I turned my steps towards the baker's cabin, the forest drifting away at my
back.
The smell of freshly baked bread and hot iron filled the air. The earliest risers
were always the baker and the blacksmith. I loved the way the morning swirled with the
scent, both metallic and warm. The baker ran her shop out of her small cabin, tucked
deep into the middle of our village, a pitched lean-to in front. The outside was lined with
shelving and tables, all holding the goods she baked to sell. Thankfully, I had a few
coins to fill my hunger with since the smells of her wares were driving my stomach to
flips.
A crowd of villagers were pulled tightly together by the time I reached the shop,
requiring me to push my way through to the front. A week ago I had come, craving the
taste of scones, and just as I had arrived, a traveler snatched the last one from the shelf
greedily. I knew I needed to be quick, so I would not be cheated again. I none-too-gently
elbowed a man in a graying outfit, quickly taking his surprise as an advantage to step in
front of him. I saw his glare from the corner of my eye, words of protest hanging on his
lips. He looked to the hood at my back, recognizing me instantly.
"Red! You should try to watch your elbows. It's not very ladylike to be shoving
men around."
He gave me a wink, a smile spreading across his face. Claude was the
handsome, carefree boy in our village, whose looks alone would make even the most
proper lady swoon. His golden hair only haloed his charm and his eyes of brun
constantly danced with mischief. He made every girl smile and would have no trouble
finding a bride... except that he was completely in love with me. He had asked my
Mama numerous times for my hand, but every time, she declined. We, of course, had
our fun, but I couldn't imagine marrying a butcher's boy, the stench of death burned into
his hands. I was a hunter's daughter and to marry outside of my class was beneath me.
My father had always promised me a hunter and even in his absence I would accept no
less.
I turned away from Claude, unconcerned with his teasing, and grabbed for the
last raspberry scone, snatching it from underneath the hand of a battered old man. He
looked pitiful, urging me with his eyes to give up the scone I had taken. I refused,
shrugging my shoulders, pointing instead to a pie that was still waiting to be taken from
the shelf. He shook his head in disgust at my suggestion. I did not feel guilty as I bit into
the gooey raspberry filling, the flavors comforting my decision to be harsh. All acts were
fair when dealing with the baker's delicious goods. The old man would just have to
learn, as I had, to be quicker next time.
I left my coin in the hands of the baker's daughter then shuffled my way out of the
crowd, satisfied with my haul. Claude was right on my heels, obnoxiously digging into a
scone of his own. When we were far enough away to be simply a memory to the crowd,
the scones licked clean from our fingers, he swooped me up by the waist, planting a
sugar-filled kiss on my lips with force. I pushed at his arms to let me go and he did,
dropping me lightly to my toes. I grabbed his hand and ran towards a small alley
between two stables, hidden away from prying eyes.
"Claude! That was not discreet! I thought we agreed it wouldn't be proper, kissing
in the streets. What if someone saw? My reputation would be ruined, you
wretched boy!
I slapped at his chest but he just laughed, the contagious sound thrumming through my
fingers.
"No one saw us, darling girl. You know I would be ashamed if I ended up the
cause of your fallen honor. I would never be so rash!" He gently brushed my
cheek. "You are as precious as a rose in bloom." Stepping back, he looked
around in delight. "But behold! We are alone. So. Where were we?"
He grabbed me by the waist, sweeping me up into another kiss. This time I
returned it, consumed by his urgency. He tasted of jam and warm bread, and for a
moment it didn't matter who we were. We could have been anyone and the future laid
out before us. All that mattered was that it felt right. That moment, however sweet, just
as the roses were, faded quickly. He returned me to my feet, that I carefully shuffled
trying to regain my balance. I adjusted my skirts and cape back to their proper position.
"What is the meaning of all of the commotion this morning? There are so many
people about so early," I said.
"The men are going on their hunt tomorrow for the wolves, so the town is
throwing a festival for their safe return. There'll be plenty of food and drink today,
ma cherie! It's a celebration! One that you do not want to miss, dear lady."
He slurred his words in exaggerated excitement and I couldn't help the grin that
came to my face. In my anger at Mama I had completely forgotten the day. I loved the
festivities before a hunt. There was no better place to be in all of France when our
village was celebrating the safe return of our men. Claude's enthusiasm only spurred on
my own. The town would be so alive today, whereas tomorrow there would be nothing
but drowning amounts of fear—terror that our loved ones may not return. I had a few
hours until it would be absolutely necessary that I leave and this would be a pity to miss.
I grabbed Claude's hand and started dragging him towards the pub. He played along,
pretending that my strength overwhelmed his own.
"Where are you taking me, my rose?" He said with feigned concern.
I just winked and we ran through the streets, laughing.
