SciFi and Fantasy Stories: Forked Roads 2

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Jyvan shook his head in an attempt to regain control of his rebelling mind. Since the newly cursed woman seemed to be unconscious, the first thing he had to do was calm Rosewood. He approached the horse that danced back and forth—straining against the lead that somehow had gotten tangled in a high branch.

“Easy,” he called to her in low tones, reaching out to snag part of the lead he could reach. “Easy girl…”

It took some time, but eventually the horse quieted and stood still, though her skin still trembled in residual apprehension. He offered a reassuring pat to the beast and turned back to look down on the form of the hound that lay on the ground, tangled in the yards of fine fabric Maenosa had insisted on wearing during their travels.

He bent to gather her in his arms. The awkward feeling that flushed his face made him unease. Would she still be Maenosa when she awoke or had she been fully changed into a dog? If she was Maenosa, what would she think of him picking her up like that?

Doesn’t matter, he assured himself. He couldn’t just leave her there after all.

He reached Cloud to find the grey horse nibbling at the foliage around him.

“You glutton,” Jyvan complained as he set the hound down to snatch up Cloud’s rein. He linked the two leads together and wrapped them around his shoulder before stooping to pick up the creature that seemed to grow heavier by the minute. There had to be a way to transport her on Rosewood.

Reaching the road again did nothing for Jyvan’s strung nerves. His bedroll was still on the ground, but there was no trace of the man he’d stopped to help before Maenosa bolted. Not even the bloodstains that had colored the ground remained. The youth groaned to himself. It seemed there was more magic afoot than just the old woman’s bindings and curse.

It was about that time that Maenosa struggled back to consciousness. The hound writhed in his arms, throwing her head back and forth in an attempt to latch onto him anywhere she could.

Jyvan shouted despite himself when her jaw clamped down on his arm and hand. He dropped the snarling dog and clutched his arm to his lower chest, grunting against the pain. At least it wasn’t his face.

The golden hound crouched before him after struggling out of the dress he hadn’t felt proper removing. Her eyes burned, and her hackles rose to amplify the snarl that laid bare snow-white, gleaming teeth. Little change here, he thought to himself. Only now she bites.

“It’s going to be okay, Lady Lievath,” he tried to soothe. “We’ll figure out a way to fix this. I swear it.”

There was no change in the hound’s stance or the aggressive gleam in her eyes. His greatest fear materialized when she turned tail and bolted.

Jyvan cursed to himself as he dropped Rosewood’s reins and leapt to Cloud’s back. The stallion stretched his long legs in a wide-gaited gallop. In his fear and anxiety, Jyvan forgot to enjoy the spirited sensation as he normally did.

His eyes kept trained on the long-coated hound that moved like the wind away from him. At least she remained on the road…

The sun had begun to lower in the sky by the time he caught up with the exhausted creature. The hound had collapsed by the roadside and lay panting on her side. Jyvan dropped from his saddle and pulled out the small tin cup from his saddle bag. Once he’d filled it with some water from his water-skin he approached to slide it towards her.

She opened her eyes and growled at him, though she didn’t move.

Jyvan scowled. “Look here!” he snapped as his patience did the same. “I’m just giving you water.” After a moment of silence he finished pushing the water towards her and stood to back up.

He watched the hound raise her head and drain the cup in great laps. Jyvan turned back the way they’d come. He reached out to grasp Rosewood’s reins as the confused horse trotted up.

“Good girl,” he crooned, patting her head. “It must have been hard to decide to follow or stay with Barrel.”

The horse dropped her head to press against his chest. “It’s okay,” he comforted, giving her a final pat before turning back to the weak hound.

The youth looked down on the creature that was once his bitter companion. He sighed when she growled at him again. Bending down, he grabbed her muzzle to make sure she wouldn’t snap at him again even in her weakened state. Jyvan placed her across the awkward side-saddle and started back to retrieve the pack horse.

He sighed as he noted the failing light. His day was only getting longer. “If you run away again, could you kindly tire sooner?” he grumbled.

A low growl was his only response.

After binding his arm wound with an infection-inhibiting tree fungus, Jyvan dropped down against his bedroll once he was finally finished making the rough camp. He was surprised how much less time it took when Maenosa wasn’t complaining and hindering every other minute. His gaze flickered to the sulking hound he’d tied to a tree. The youth felt a little guilty that he didn’t feel more remorse about tying her up.

Jyvan looked up through the trees, searching for any glimpse of the stars he might catch. Sleep approached with increasing potency despite his raging thoughts and questions. He listened to the horses breathing as they pressed close to each other, and he listened to the wind moving through the leaves of the surrounding trees. What am I going to do?

Maenosa snapped when Cloud drifted too close to Rosewood. Jyvan sighed and directed the horse away. At least her snapping has become half-hearted over the past three days, he thought to himself as they drew close to the last town before they reached Panael. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t come up with any idea of what he was going to tell her father. ‘Sorry my lord, I let your daughter be turned into a dog’? Somehow, that just didn’t seem to work. A nagging fear told him that old Lord Lievath should never find out that the beautiful, golden hound was really the man’s daughter.

Jyvan turned the small party towards the first tavern they came to. He needed time to think. Furthermore, he didn’t want to stay out in the field another night, especially since he knew that Maenosa hated that—even if she couldn’t speak her mind at the moment.

After passing the leads of all three horses to the Whistling Truncheon’s stable boy, he gripped the guide he’d fastened around Maenosa’s neck and helped her jump down as much as he dared. Too close and this time it might be his face that she grasped between her jaws.

“Well look what we have here, fellas!” a warm voice called as soon as Jyvan stepped through the entrance.

He glanced to his left and felt his mouth turn up in his small smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he commented as he approached the three men seated in the corner.

“We could say the same about you,” the dark-skinned red-head laughed as he motioned for Jyvan to take a seat. “You’re meal’s on me, my friend.” He motioned to the tavern maid.

“That’s kind of you, Dennik,” Jyvan answered as he took the empty position at the table. “You don’t have to do that, though.”

“Shut-up,” Dennik replied with a laugh. “You know I never listen when you spout nonsense.”

“You know your kindness could be presented a little better,” Likel joked as he sat back from his empty plate. He tossed some of his straight, sandy hair from his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” Mael jumped into the conversation.

Likel laughed with a shrug. “Yeah, I know… So Jyvan, where ever did you get a balkh hound?” He reached out to try and pet the beautiful dog, but drew back when she growled and then snapped at him.

“In the forests,” Jyvan answered with a shrug. “She doesn’t like people much.”

“She do that do your arm?” Dennik asked, nodding to the bandaging on Jyvan’s right appendage.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

Likel snorted in disdain. “I don’t care if she is a balkh hound, then,” he announced. “You should dump her before she hurts someone.”

“Can’t do that,” Jyvan responded. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re too soft,” Mael spoke up, shaking his head, which made his wavy, dark hair sway. “Like you need a bitch snarling and biting at you all the time. You’ve already got…”

“That’s enough, Mael,” Jyvan warned.

“He’s right, you know,” Likel agreed as he leaned back. “You take all the garbage that Lievath princess dumps on you, and you never say anything to or about her.”

“At least she never bit him,” Dennik laughed.

Jyvan grunted and shook his head. “Where are you guys heading?” Just in case Maenosa was still a comprehending individual, he didn’t want that conversation to go any father. He could only imagine how his friends’ deriding opinions would hurt her.

“Dennik’s father sent him to look into his holding in Telnis. We thought we’d tag along and see how much trouble we could cause. You?” Mael supplied.

Jyvan smiled a little and shook his head. “Heading back to the Lievath Manor.”

“You’ll never guess what happened the other day!” Likel exploded as if his brain had just popped. He launched into a long and animated tale about his misadventures in procuring a new sword after having his thrown into the Great River by a jealous lover.

The others added their observations when appropriate—having already heard the story—and Jyvan listened with his typical half-engaged smirk. Sometimes, he had to wonder if Likel had been born under a star that attracted trouble.

“Did you finally get one in the end?”

“Oh, yeah,” he brushed away the question with a laugh. “A real nice one from Lievath’s headman.”

“I see…” The mention of Lord Lievath reminded him of his own predicament and drew any enjoyment out of his meeting. “Eri’s a good man.”

“Say, last I heard you’d gone to escort the Lievath princess home,” Likel piped up.

“Yeah.”

“So… where is she?” Mael asked.

“Around,” he answered.

“Got tired of her abuse?” Likel ribbed.

Jyvan glared at him and shook his head.

“Don’t feel bad!” Likel laughed. “No one could take the trash she dishes out and stay sane for long. Really, I’m impressed you’ve never belted her.”

“How did we get back to this subject?” Jyvan asked. “I do not want to talk about it.”

“Sorry to say this, Jy,” Dennik laughed, “but we’ve got to be heading out. We have to be in Telnis by morning.” He turned to the other two. “I’ll go pay the inn-keep, boys. Get ready?”

They voiced their agreement as the tall youth turned to find the tavern owner.

“Good luck,” Mael offered as he stood and hefted his sack over his shoulder. “I imagine you’re going to need it.”

Jyvan sighed and shook his head. “Thanks for the sentiment anyway.”

“Don’t get in too much trouble without us, Jyvan,” Likel prodded as he and Mael took their leave.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured after they’d gone. In his distracted state, he didn’t even think about it before he placed a comforting hand on the hound’s head.

Her growl reminded him of their situation, and he snatched away the offending appendage, surprised she bothered to warn him instead of just biting him. He took his untouched plate of food and set it on the floor in front of her.

The hound looked at him for a moment, before dropping her head to start lapping up the food.

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After a time, Maenosa calmed enough to know they had to get back to the road. But how? A little bitterness rose in her heart. And why should I even care about him? If he was stupid enough… Her thoughts didn’t even survive to completion. Her guilt rose to drive away the selfish thought that naturally leapt forward. He’d sacrificed himself for her. He couldn’t be what she’d thought if he’d do something like that.

Tears came to her eyes and she edged near the frightening beast. “Ka`anoth?” she called in low tones as she dropped to his side. “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

What had she done? What had she been doing all along? A deep sense of grief and regret gripped her heart and soul. She wanted to lie down and die for the shame of her actions and horrible behavior.

Her eyes flung open when a warm, wet sensation spread over her hand. She stared down to realize the black creature had extended his massive tongue to lap her hand once. She swallowed and reached out to rest her fingers against the lean shoulder. A laugh almost rose when she saw his tail offering a weak wag inside the thick trousers that covered his solid flank. Would the man Jyvan have forgiven her as readily?

Maenosa wiped away her tears and stood up and forced a smile. “Come on Ka`…” Her gut twisted as she looked into those grey-green eyes. Somehow, addressing the unfortunate man by his family name felt cruel now. “Jyvan,” she finished in a whisper.

The dog whined and lumbered to his feet, shaking out of the restrictive clothes around his body. She watched as the massive creature tried to back out of the tunic caught around its neck.

“Jyvan…” she called.

The dog lifted his head—fully hidden by the cloth—and turned towards her. Maenosa’s face flamed as she reached out to finish tugging the tunic off. How… inappropriate.

Maenosa cringed and turned away, unable to view her destructive handy-work. She reached up and was able to tug Rosewood’s reins down without trouble, now that the horse was calm again. The three made their way back towards the road—Jyvan in the lead. They stopped long enough to pick up Cloud, who’d turned to grazing in his master’s absence. Maenosa was sure she saw the dog grunt and shake his head a little before they continued on.

Maenosa fought the terror and the ball of remorse that settled in her stomach. They would make it back to her father’s house. He would know what to do. Even if, or perhaps because, he was a cold, greedy monster, he knew how to get out of difficult situations.

When they reached the road again, a shiver ran up and down her spine. Hadn’t Jyvan been tending an injured stranger? She shook her head and reached down to gather up his bedroll that just lay in the middle of the road. She looked down at the black monster, whose shoulders easily reached her hip. If he stretched, she had no doubt he could lick her face without so much as raising a single paw. The young woman swallowed, realizing how grateful she was that the animal hadn’t attacked her. She’d be dead—and a quiet voice in the back of her head whispered that she’d deserve it.

“Where’s Barrel?” she whispered as she looked into the dark eyes that peered at her beneath drooping lids.

The head tilted to the side while the floppy ears perked up. The skin between his eyes drew together before the creature turned on his long legs to trot into the underbrush once again.

Maenosa had no choice but to follow.

The young woman groaned as she struggled to light the fire that would hopefully keep the cold night air at bay. Jyvan always made it look so easy! She cursed her ineptitude and her foolishness for the umpteenth time.

She bit her bottom lip, attempting to bite back the tears as well. There was no time to weep. If she let herself cry, she might never surface again. No, she just couldn’t…

A strangled cry of relief and misery erupted in her throat when the tiny sparks leapt from the flint to ignite the tiny bits of dried pine needles she’d managed to gather. She held her breath as she fed the growing fire one tiny twig at a time. A great sense of pride washed over her when she finally sat back to stare at the dancing flames.

“How about that?” she asked as she turned to look at the massive dog that reclined a short distance away. The young woman smiled sheepishly and shook her head. The single tail-wag and the comical expression that locked on the dog’s face gave her the distinct impression that, somewhere, Jyvan was laughing at her.

“Fine then,” she sighed, unable to keep the tiny smile from her lips. “You just go ahead and laugh.”

Later that night, Maenosa woke to find only cold ashes where her glorious fire had once been. She sat up, dragging her blanket along with her. The young woman poked at the grey-white dust hoping against hope that she would find even a tiny spark. Why had it gone out? The flames and embers always lasted through the night when Jyvan made the fire.

Tears slipped from her eyes as her chilly fingers struggled with the flint again. This time, there was no success. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there, but the night’s chill ate into her bones and made her teeth jar together despite how hard she tried to clench them.

Maenosa stopped struggling with the flint when she felt a large pressure against her side. She looked up to find the black dog pressing against her. She sniffled and shook her head.

“I can’t do it, Jyvan,” she cried. “I thought I would be fine without you… but I can’t do anything!”

The dog only lowered his head to press his nose into her hand.

Exhaustion pulled at her eyelids and tried to drag her down. The young woman wiped her tears away. She should try and sleep. It wasn’t so cold that it was dangerous—just very uncomfortable.

Maenosa returned to her bed roll and curled up. Her eyes flung open when she felt the large dog come and drop down beside her. Embarrassment leapt to the surface at having Jyvan so close to her.

He must be cold too, she reasoned with herself. And maybe he’d not even Jyvan anymore. The thought broke her heart, but it enabled her to throw off her embarrassment. While sharing a blanket with Jyvan would have been indecent and scandalous, cuddling up to a large guard dog in the cold was nothing to be ashamed of.

She threw the blanked over him and drew closer to the solid animal’s back. Her hand rand down his side and then moved to idly scratch at his ears before she nodded off to sleep again.

The sun had begun its descent on the third day by the time the small party reached the next town of Rathna. Maenosa stopped at the very first tavern they encountered. While Jyvan might have insisted they press on, she was in no state to even consider such things, and he was in to state to insist.

Her stomach twisted in bitter complaint. The rations had run out yesterday, and while Jyvan may be able to hunt game and find edible roots and fruits in the forest, she would not dare take that chance.

The lady passed off the horses to the stable boy and started for the entrance. What kind of name is Whistling Truncheon? she asked herself as she entered the dim tavern.

“Shouldn’t little Lady Lievath have someone accompanying her?”

Maenosa swallowed as she turned to the light, laughing voice just to her left. She fought the sneer that leapt to her face when she observed three men she’d seen often in Jyvan’s company. If she’d misjudged Jyvan so badly, perhaps she’d misjudged them as well. Someone noble wouldn’t keep with scoundrels…

“I should,” she answered, “but for now, only he keeps company with me.”

The three men turned their eyes down to the black monster by her side.

The dog strode forward and shoved his big nose into the closest’s hand. The brown-haired man grinned and reached out to rub his hand over the dog’s head. “Hey there, fella,” he greeted. The man looked up. “I didn’t know you kept Danes, Lady Lievath. He’s huge…”

A flush rose to cover her cheeks. “I—he’s only recently joined me.”

“Where’s Jyvan then? Wasn’t he accompanying you home?”

Maenosa felt herself begin to shake when the red-head asked such a blunt question. “I—he said he come for me later.”

The three glanced at each other and then turned back to the young woman.

“That doesn’t sound like him,” the dark-haired man growled as he stood and walked towards her. “Where is he?”

The young woman began to tremble as she stared up into the unforgiving eyes that glowered down at her. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t tell them, could she? “There was an accident…” she murmured.

“What happened?” the man snarled, reaching out to grab her arm.

Maenosa’s heart stopped when Jyvan whirled from the man at the table to leap at the one that gripped her. She watched the black creature stand over his human-friend. There was no growl or bared teeth, but there was no question what the dog wanted.

“Stop!” she called as she tugged him away from the man on the floor. Even if he didn’t growl, she would never forgive herself if he hurt his friend. “He’s looking out for you.”

The silence that met her ears was as painful as when she realized how cruel she’d been to her father’s retainer.

The red-head stood and walked towards them. He reached down to help the other man from the floor. His dark eyes turned to the young woman and he frowned. “Is that Jyvan?” he asked, though he kept one arm gripped on his friend’s shoulder.

She swallowed and dropped her head in her shame. “It is.”

“What did you do to him?” the third man asked, bolting up from the table.

None of them stepped forward since Jyvan still stood motionless before the young woman.

“I…” She faltered, unable to voice the story. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she murmured. “I’m not even sure how…”

“You’d better find a way to fix this.”

She dared a glance up into the furious faces and settled on the one who’d spoken last.

The tall man glowered at her and shook his head. “I don’t know why even yet he defends you. In all your lives, you’ve only been the cause of suffering for him.”

She winced at the painful words, but the man wasn’t finished. As much as she didn’t want to hear his words, maybe he would have an idea of how to fix her horrible mistake—and if he needed to rail against her first, he was well within his rights.

“We’re headed to Telnis,” he continued. “We’ll be back in a fortnight’s time. You have until then to figure out how you’re going to make this right. I won’t be happy if I return and find my best friend is still a canine.”

Maenosa dropped her head. “I understand,” she murmured. “I swear I will do everything I can for him. I cannot tell you how horrible…”

“Save it,” the man Jyvan had gone to first growled. “You’ve always been selfish, and I’ve seen you weave words when it suits you. Prove you’re sorry, and then I’ll consider forgiving you.”

The lady nodded, unable to speak more. “I understand.”

In the end she didn’t have the strength to ask for help from the glowering men. After all, considering Jyvan was their friend, they probably would have offered up advise if they had any. The knot in her throat burned as she lowered her head.

She listened to the three depart as the tears slipped from her eyes. Maenosa jumped when she felt a cold, wet nose press against her hand. She looked down to find that the beast with the white triangle on his massive chest looked up at her. Even her doubting mind couldn’t question the smile that seemed to twist the creature’s gapping maw.

“I’ll fix it,” she whispered, reaching out to caress his head. “I promise.”

She stood, wiping her eyes and trudged to the long bar. She looked up at the severe man behind the counter. “I need two house plates,” she requested.

“Normally I don’t let people bring their animals into my establishment,” he grumped.

“I apologize,” she murmured. “Please, I would ask you make an exception as he is an exception. He won’t cause any trouble, I swear to it.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Only because you’re from the House of Lievath.”

She dropped her head in thanks.

When the man finally brought the requested food, she sighed in relief. Maenosa stooped to place one before Jyvan and smiled at him.

The barman looked at her. “You know, it’s cheaper to feed your hounds the scraps. They don’t care either way.”

She nodded. “He probably wouldn’t, but I couldn’t feed him scraps.” Without another word, she set to devouring her own dinner, while Jyvan lapped at his.