Heart of Darkwood

Rebe

"Bruno, you've come back to us. Finally ready to switch sides? And look. You brought your daughter with you? How sweet." The grizzly voice came from a mountain of a man, not only in height but in build as well. He looked like a grizzly bear. Hairy all over, except for his perfectly bald head. His mustache and beard were thick and black like the forest. He was dressed in wolf pelts and leathers. A massive broadsword rested lazily upon his shoulder. A Wolf. 

"Bigge Wolf. It's been too long a time since I had to smell you. Connor, my boy. Look how you've grown. I see they got you a new play-toy," Bruno causally replied. He didn't refute the man's incorrect identification of Rebe. Was there a reason? To protect her, perhaps?

The grizzly man did indeed smell. Much like a wild animal, Rebe suspected. But with a hint of death about it. Perhaps it was all the bloodied pelts. Perhaps it was poor hygiene and grooming. Most likely both. 

Besides him stood a small, younger boy dressed in all black leathers with a fur-trimmed black cloak and long, wavy raven hair. He rested his hands on a sword that indeed looked like a toy when set next to Bigge Wolf's. He had a scowl painted across his face. He said nothing. 

"I gotta take you to the boss, Bruno. Your daughter, too," Bigge admitted. Slowly, many more wolf pelts, both living and dead, surrounded them, emerging out of the darkness. There was no escape. 

How had she not felt them coming? Perhaps the smell? Maybe the forest? She'd been down this dead end before. Now wasn't the time. 

"Take us to your boss. Take us to the Dire Wolf," Rebe requested. Bruno looked over to Rebe and gave a look that said, "Be cool, but be ready." Rebe nodded in acknowledgement. At least he wasn't arguing with her to leave anymore.

"Smart girl. You should be proud, Bruno. But first, we need your weapons." Rebe looked back to Bruno, and he nodded. He handed Bigge down his spear, who handed it off to another wolfskin. She handed off her dagger to a different smelly wolfskin. The remainder of the pack had closed in on them. There were about a dozen of them in total, including the four wolves. Or were they really hounds? Rebe couldn't tell. They were domesticated, whatever else they were. 

Rebe went to dismount Dasher, but Bruno's face told her to stay where she was. Were they going to make a break for it? In this forest. It seemed like a very bad idea. Still, she stayed amount. 

The pack led by the boy, Connor, wandered back into the Darkwood proper. Bigge remained besides Bruno, guarding him no doubt. Connor led them in a seemingly random way through the darkness of the wood. He clearly knew exactly where they were going. Rebe had to duck many times to avoid the foliage. She could only imagine how a tall man like Bruno was doing. 

Eventually, after much marching for how long she could no longer tell through near total darkness, they arrived at another clearing. The previous clearing must have been a dead end of some sort. Perhaps even a trap. If so, she had fallen right for it. Was that why Bruno had been so insistent that they leave? 

The light was blind after so long in the dark. It made Rebe's eyes sore and sensitive.  

Just like the previous clearing, this one was only mostly clear. Giant tall trees were interspersed and filled the canopy impressively, creating a shadowy, but not sightless, topped field. Unlike the previous clearing, however, this one was much larger.

Within the large clearing was a small village. Houses ranging from log cabins to treehouses lined the clearing. All were made entirely of wood and other forest-found materials such as leaves and dirt. There were tents and lean-tos filling the clearing. The whole place looked like some sort of refugee camp.  

In the center of the village was a large cabin, almost a manor by comparison. It appeared more orderly than the other structures. Like it had been designed while most of the other had been hastily constructed.

That was where Connor was leading them. As they walked through the village, Rebe saw children, women, and the elderly. Most looked hungry and poorly dressed. These were not the deadly Wovles Rebe had heard so much about. They made their way to a great oak just before the manor. It was the largest tree in the clearing. Its canopy alone covered most of the village. 

Sitting under the great tree on a hard wooden stool was the boss. The Dire Wolf. Resting next to her was a great big wolf. Of this one, Rebe was certain. The boss was reading a story to a gathered group of children. What Rebe overheard was about four druids, a man, a wyrm, a crow, and a whale. 

As they approached, the woman closed the book and told the kids to come back when she was done with them to hear the end of the story. The children begrudgingly trotted off. A few looked up at Rebe with the big, curious eyes of youth. These eyes were wrapped in hungry faces and frail bodies. Why were the Wolves starving their own children like this? Rebe would get her answers.

The boss had a gaunt and hollow face that had, without any doubt, once been quite beautiful. Her braided hair was once raven, going grey. Despite her appearance, she was not old. Maybe Bruno's age maybe a bit younger. She wore the leather of the wolfskins, but they were better tailored to her. She had a thick fur collar around her thin neck. Her eyes were clever. She inspected Rebe quite thoroughly as her komodn approached.

"The Dire Wolf, I presume," Rebe began. Rebe dismounted her komodon to Bruno's immediate dismay. She handed the reins to him. 

"I suppose. More truly, that is what one might call my pet here, but it is true that many call me by that name. You may call me Marge if you like. Countess Marge Darkwood of Castle Hill is my proper title. I believe you know my castle. You've been staying in it with the Duke and his men. With Bruno here," the Countess replied, gesturing her free hand towards Bruno.

Dire Wolf. Boss. Countess. Marge. Darkwood. This woman had too many names and titles. It was impossible to keep it all straight. Rebe settled on Boss for no specific reason. 

"Your castle? I thought it was Prince Leo's castle?" Rebe wondered genuinely. She came up to face the woman head-on. For whatever reason, she felt no fear. 

"Only by way of violence," the Countess curtly replied. "You've met my son, no doubt, Connor, Young Count Darkwood, rightful heir of Castle Hill."

"Tell me why I am here," Rebe demanded. She thought about her knife, and it rushed out of the wolf's hand and into her own. She was aiming it at the Countess. She didn't seem the least bit surprised or worried. The Countess approached and pushed the knife down. Rebe let her lower it. 

"That is an easy one. You are a Wolf, much like us. I knew your mother well. We were cousins by law. That makes Connor your cousin. Your mother was as much a Kelton as any. She had bright red hair, odd, yours are raven-headed. 

"I coloured it to fit in better," Rebe replied. She sheathed the knife. 

"How peculiar. She certainly loved it. I was always quite jealous of your mother's hair. Me? I always preferred to stand out and forge my own way. To each their own," the Countess contested. With one sentence, the Countess had dissolved years of self-loathing from within her. So her mother loved her hair? Then she would choose to love hers. She would be strong for her mother. She would be brave. She would be herself. 

"Is she here? My mother? Rebe hoped. She was terrified to hear the Boss's answer.

"Yes, my dear girl. In a way, I think she is. Come. Come here. Touch this here tree," the Countess demanded. She rose and beckoned Rebe to take her hand. Reluctantly, Rebe did so. The Countess brought her over to the great oak at the centre of the grove.  She looked up at the great oak tree. All its leaves were a beautiful dark umber colour. It was a beautiful tree. 

 The Countess placed her hand upon it. The second Rebe touched the tree, she knew. She knew why this place had called to her. She knew why she had been drawn to come. She knew why she kept hearing or seeing or feeling the trees of this forest. She knew why this place overwhelmed her so. She knew why she felt so safe within it. 

This tree. The tree at the very heart of the Deepwood was her mother. Or it was what was left of her. What grew out of her. What she had become. Rebe embraced the tree fully and began to cry. She was home. She finally got to meet her mother. 

"She keeps us safe here. Just like all the others. Our fallen friends. The forest of the dead. The Darkwood. She is its beating heart. We are the blood. The Wolves. We protect the forest. We protect the people. We protect the land. We did so from Castle Hill before the Duke and his men arrived. They took our castle and trapped us. They starved us out. They took the Sea of Chaff, our ancient home. Our only source of food. They trapped us in our cemetery. So we steal. We steal to survive. And when we are strong enough, we strike back. We will soon be strong enough. This is your warning," the Countess threatened. "Get out of Castle Hill. Get out before it is too late."