Chapter 5

There’s a knock on the door, and Greta looks up in alarm from her papers by the table. She’s not expecting anyone. She frantically puts the papers in order, almost knocking over the candle in the process, and then straightens her uniform and hurries over to the door. The revolver is lying on the tattered chest, and she debates with herself for a moment if she should put it on when there is another knock. She leaves it, pulls on the uniform one last time, and opens the door. It’s Miriam standing outside.

“I’ve spoken to the hunters, we’ll go to the forest tomorrow.”

Greta stares at her. She had almost forgotten about the legend.

“For the wolves?”

Miriam nods. Greta doesn’t know what they hope to do, but she knows she should say something. These wolves are nothing but a myth, but she doesn’t want to get on a bad foot with the town this early on. She nods.

“Björn will pick you up at 9.”

Miriam turns and leaves without another word, and Greta is left standing in the doorway. She’s written a letter to her superiors, telling them about the legends the townspeople believe in. Those myths don’t belong in the new society the King wants to build, and she has to put an end to it. With some hope, a word from the authorities can get the town to change their mind.

She closes the door and walks back through the dark hallway. She will build the town the King wants, her superiors will see that she can make it. The papers lie stacked neatly on the table, and she sits down and takes one to continue her work. The wolf myth should have been discarded a long time ago. She knows about it, just like every citizen knows about it, but she stopped believing in it when her father… She shakes her head. It’s no use thinking about it, it’s not real. She takes up her pen and puts it to the paper, but her thoughts refuse to align. She never thought she would ever meet the legend of the wolves again. After moving to the city, the tales of her childhood had slipped into the past, and she’d made sure they stayed there. But now…

She stares out the window, then blinks and shakes her head to dispel her thoughts. It’s getting late. She puts the paper back on the neatly stacked pile and gets up from the table. It’s only one day, then maybe she can get the town to stop believing in this nonsense. She takes the candle and walks up the narrow stairs to the bedroom. She’s just taken a step onto the landing when a sudden image flashes through her mind, and she stumbles and takes hold of the railing. Those memories shouldn’t be here… She stares wildly around her, then forces herself to take a deep breath. They are nothing more than memories, they can’t get to her. She slowly lets go of the railing and takes a careful step towards the bedroom. Her body obeys her, and she takes another until she’s standing by the bed. This has only happened a few times in the past, and those times, she’s gone to the library and buried herself in legislation to distract herself. This time, she has nothing. She puts the candle on the bedside table, and slowly undresses. It’s only one day, and then she’ll get the town to change their mind. The duvet is damp as she crawls underneath it, and she blows out the candle and curls up against the chill.

The first rays of the sun have tinted the grimy bedroom grey when she wakes up in a cold sweat. Her breath hitches in her chest, and she forces herself to slow it down. They are only dreams, she tells herself. Nothing more than memories that can’t get to her. She stares up at the ceiling, but a clammy dread clings to her mind even as the images of the night fade into the shadows, and she pulls the duvet to the side and gets up. Her hands shake as she puts on her uniform, and she puts it on the wrong way and has to take it off to set it straight. They shouldn’t go to the forest today, they should leave it all behind and continue with their lives. The wolves are nothing but a myth, and the sooner the town understands it, the better.

She reflexively glances in the mirror and when she’s confirmed the uniform looks right, she takes the candle with an unsteady hand and carefully walks down the stairs. It’s still several hours before the hunt begins. She goes to sit by the table, picks up her pen, and then stares out the window. Can she tell Miriam she can’t come? No, she’s expected to be there. She has no choice but to endure it. She makes a mental note to write another letter to her superiors, urging them to make the town stop believing in these myths.

When the knock on the door finally comes at 9, she’s managed to finish two important papers. She puts them to the side, straightens her uniform, and walks to the door. Only then does she realise she hasn’t prepared, and she curses herself for her carelessness. Her revolver won’t do much good against wolves, but it’s too late to amend now. She straightens the uniform once more, takes the revolver from the tattered chest and fastens it by her hip, and opens the door. An older man is standing outside, his face edged with lines from a life lived outdoors.

“Glad to meet you, I’m Björn”.

He reaches out a hand, and she automatically takes it and shakes it. He gestures for her to follow, and she closes the door behind her as she comes with him out on the street, and they walk in silence to the square. A small group has already gathered as they arrive, and Miriam must have told the town because people line the streets and children are playing. She is standing with the mayor, and Greta walks up to them.

“My love, I’m glad you could come,” he says as he sees her.

He takes her hand and squeezes it in a greeting, and then glances at the group of hunters that is now filling up the square.

“I believe that’s all,” he says as he turns to Miriam. “You are ready.”

She nods, and Greta watches her walk up to Björn. After a few exchanged words, he raises a horn to his mouth and blows. Moments later, the group moves as one and sets out. Greta reflexively checks her revolver by her hip and then follows them. It’s only one day, then all over this will hopefully be over.

The people wave at them as they pass, shouting well-wishes. A child runs through the small group until the mother cries for her to watch out, and she disappears back into the crowd. The group walks in silence, leaving the town and crossing a small stone bridge with a small creek running underneath it. When they reach the meadow, the mayor holds up a hand, and they stop.

“Miriam has asked you to track down the wolves. “

He turns to the man who collected Greta this morning.

“Björn will lead the hunt.”

The man nods.

“Miriam, you’ll try to sense them. Let the group know of any signs you feel.”

She also nods.

“Greta.”

He turns to her.

“Please watch and come to report to me later with Miriam. I’ll stay here; this old body will just slow you down.”

She salutes him without thinking.

“Yes, sir.”

He waves them off, and they walk the last distance to the edge of the forest. There, they stop and Miriam turns to them.

“I don’t know what will meet us, but be prepared.”

She raises a hand as if to sense the air, then takes a deep breath, turns and steps into the forest. Greta watches the hunters follow her and then steps in last. For a moment, the forest is as she remembers her childhood’s woods. Peaceful greenery that almost makes her forget about the dreams of the night. Then slowly, the distant murmur of the town fades and the bird song quiets until the silence presses down on her as a wet blanket. She glances at the others. They are glaring into the trees, and Greta opens her mouth to say something and then stops. Dread creeps up her spine and she freezes.

“They are here,” Miriam whispers.

She’s frozen in place, peering into the thicket, and the hunters pick up their rifles, resting them on their shoulders in preparation.

“Where?”, Björn whispers.

Miriam surveys the forest, and the furrow between her eyes deepens.

“I… don’t know.. I sense them, but they are… everywhere. I can’t pin them down.”

She takes a step into the forest, and something rustles to the side. The hunters swivel on the spot and point their guns into the scrubs, but nothing else moves.

“They’re leaving…, Miriam whispers. They’re fading into the shadows again.”

The group falls silent and for a long while, nothing can be heard.

“They are gone, “ Miriam whispers.

Greta realises that she’s put her hand on the revolver. She glances at the others. The hunters slowly lower the rifles and, as if an unseen force commanded it, the murmur of the town can once again be heard in the distance. The others must have noticed it as well, because they glance around nervously.

“Let’s go”, Miriam says.

They slowly back away, and Greta’s hand doesn’t leave the revolver until she’s out on the meadow. They hurry over the autumn-stamped field, and only once they reach the bridge does Miriam turn to them.

“I need to talk to the mayor.”

“You know where to find us,” Björn says and puts a hand on her shoulder.

She nods and gestures for Greta to follow her. They part with the hunters and silently walk down the cobbled street. They are taking the long way around, Greta notices, where few people walk. Miriam knocks on the door as they arrive, and Ingrid opens. If she’s surprised at seeing them this early, she doesn’t let it show and instead gives them each a hug.

“He’s in his office, she smiles and gestures for them to come inside.”

The mayor stands up from his desk as they enter.

“Are you already done, my loves?”, he asks.

“It didn’t work, “ Miriam replies as she sits down on the chair.

Greta takes the place in the corner.

“What do you mean?”

“They were there right when we entered, but I couldn’t see them, so the hunters had nothing to shoot. “

He turns to stare out the window.

“So what do you suggest?”

“I need to think, I’m not sure.”

He nods.

“I’ll contact the other towns and ask if they’ve seen anything. The forest is once again out of reach. That counts for you, too,” he adds to Miriam.

Miriam doesn’t answer. After a long stretch of silence, she says,

“I’ll report back once I know more.”

Greta notices she never agreed with what the mayor asked of her. He stands up and gestures at the door.

“Ingrid will have made biscuits, she will hand you some if you pass the kitchen. “

Greta waits for Miriam to make the first move. Once she gets up, she salutes the mayor and follows her out. She walks home with a paper bag of freshly baked biscuits in her hand, Miriam having taken the other road to “check something”.