STEPHANIE was riding her pony through the dark forest—so dark that she could barely see the tree trunks around her. And the trees seemed to be closing in on her, barring her way. She was all alone and lost, and the trees were getting ever closer. Suddenly a gap appeared between two trees, and out of it sprang a hideous monster, all fangs and razor-sharp claws, with matted yellow hair which glowed in the dark. It pounced on her, but she managed to wriggle free, grabbed an overhanging branch, and swung herself up into a tree. The beast turned its attention to the pony, fell on it and ripped its body apart. Then it reached up into the tree. Stephanie (or was she Sophie?) screamed and screamed…
She was in her cave, in the Fringes. Men were shouting all around in the clearing below. Some of them Fringes men, some of them strangers on horseback. They were shooting arrows at each other and firing guns. Many men fell. Her cooking fire began to smoke, the smoke filled the cave, her eyes stung, so she edged towards the entrance so that she could breathe. But she was still choking. A monstrous silver object appeared in the sky above. As she gazed up at it, she realised she was bound with cords. Bound all over her body with cords which were tightening. Some tightened round her neck. All the men were dead. She could no longer breathe, or scream…
Stephanie woke up, sweating and disoriented. It took her some minutes to get her bearings, to realise that she was in her bed, in the inn, and sunlight was streaming in. That she’d been having nightmares. Then the remembrance of the horrible experience of the night before fell upon her. She shuddered. That was a nightmare that had really happened. Would she be able to forget that, as easily as one forgets dreams?
She shook herself and stumbled out of bed. The sun was fairly high: she realised that she’d overslept; would they still be serving breakfast? She hurriedly splashed some water on herself: the side of her face stung when she touched it. She remembered the ostler slapping her. There was no mirror in her room, but she was able to see her reflection in one of the windows. Yes, there was a small bruise there, but there didn’t seem to be any blood showing. Hurriedly she dressed herself, and wrapped her face in a scarf as best she could, hoping to conceal the bruise. Then she ran downstairs to the saloon.
The landlady was still there, clearing tables. She smiled when Stephanie appeared. “Had a good sleep, my dear? Don’t worry, I’ve kept a bit of breakfast for you.” And within a minute a plate of bacon, eggs, and tomatoes was placed before her. Stephanie realised that she was hungry, and despite her traumas she tucked in.
“One thing I wanted to ask you, Mrs—er…” she said between mouthfuls. “The door of my room doesn’t seem to lock properly. And the bolt’s broken. Could someone fix it?”
“I’ll ask my husband.” She gave a call and the innkeeper appeared. Stephanie explained her problem once again. “Hmmm… you’d better finish your breakfast, then I’ll come up with you and have a look,” he said.
In a few minutes they were climbing the stairs, the innkeeper carrying a box of tools. He examined the door. “Hmmm… the bolt’s all right but the keep-saddle’s been wrenched right out of the wood. I wonder how that could have happened? My wife was up here last night, getting the room ready for you; it was quite all right then. But don’t worry, I’ll fix it for you. You’re staying one more night, aren’t you?” Stephanie nodded.
Then he turned his attention to the lock. He tried turning the key without success, and looked puzzled. Removing the key, he took out another from his pocket, tried it in the lock, and it turned smoothly. He examined the key he’d taken out more closely.
“Strange! This doesn’t look like one of our room keys at all. Unless I’m very much mistaken, I’d say it was one of the keys to the stables. How could it have got here? But don’t worry, I’ll get a spare key from the box for you—and I’ll make sure it’s the right key. At least you’ll be sleeping tight tonight…” And with a smile, the innkeeper left Stephanie to herself.
Stephanie was determined not to spend a moment longer than necessary in this horrible inn, despite the good-natured friendliness of the landlord and landlady. That beast of an ostler must be around somewhere; she could run across him at any time. Best to get far away from the inn and stay away until the evening. Then she would probably have to face out the ostler once again. Though, having satisfied his lust for her, he may no longer be interested…
Accordingly, she prevailed upon the landlady to provide her with a packed lunch, put on her boots and coat, and set out. She followed the road for a mile or two, then she spotted a trail leading off to the south, towards a wooded area. She took that trail and was soon among trees, but these trees were well spaced out and there were low bushes either side of the path. It was a pleasant walk: although still very cold, the weather was fine and sunny, and many birds were flying among the trees. Once she started in alarm as she heard a rustling in the bushes, but it was only a fox crossing the path, which cast a glance at her and then disappeared into the bushes opposite. Within about an hour or two the woods cleared and she came to a small lake with geese swimming around in it.
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She sat herself down on a flat sun-warmed rock by the lakeside, cupped her face in her hands and watched the geese. Presently some ducks appeared as well, and she laughed as she watched a handsome drake, resplendent in his breeding plumage, trying to chase down several females at once, none of them showing any interest in him. Then she remembered last night; she checked herself, buried her face in her hands, and wept for a while.
The rock was getting quite warm by midday, so she took off her coat, spread it down and lay back on it, watching the clouds passing overhead. At length, feeling hungry, she betook herself to her sandwiches. The landlady had provided her quite generously and, once she had eaten her fill, she threw the rest of the bread out to the ducks and geese, who gobbled it up eagerly. It was an idyllic scene—almost calculated to ease her mind after…
The sun quite low in the west when she woke, realising that she had slept through most of the afternoon. She sat up, and discovered that she was being pestered by a horde of mosquitoes. Also it was getting colder. Quickly she wrapped herself in her coat, and retraced her steps through the woods.
The light was failing as she finally reached the inn. She quickly made her way to her room, and to her relief she found that the door bolt had been repaired and there was a key in the lock that worked. The door looked solidly made, and she hoped that this time it would resist any attempt to force entry. She would still have to brave the saloon, but she had thought up a plan that might deter the ostler.
Her bruise had faded, but she had a few mosquito bites on her face, which rather spoilt her looks and itched badly. Just something to put up with. She tentatively made her way down to the saloon. The ostler was nowhere to be seen, but he was sure to be around somewhere. She ordered a light supper: her appetite seemed somewhat diminished.
Sure enough, the ostler soon made his presence known as, once again, he seated his uncouth body beside hers. She had been hardly aware of his approach as she was looking the other way. She sighed.
“How you doing tonight, sweetheart? Ready for some more company?” said the ostler.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” said Stephanie, with as sweet an expression as she could muster.
“Not tonight? Why ‘not tonight’, may I ask?”
“It’s—well it’s just that—” Stephanie managed to force a blush. “Just that, now it’s that time of the month, for me. The wrong time. You know what I mean…” Stephanie had never, of course, experienced the monthly blood, but she’d learnt enough from Rachel to know what it was like.
“Oh,” said the ostler, rather crestfallen. “Oh, I see. Well, when you’re up to it, again…”
“We’ll see. I’m off to Kentak tomorrow, but I’ll be back some time.”
The ostler, with surprising tact, got up and took his leave of her, to Stephanie’s immense relief. Perhaps, having worked off his lecherous passion, he was less interested in her. That sort of thing had happened in the Fringes. Nevertheless, once back in her room she took care to both lock and bolt the door before retiring. She fell asleep almost at once, and passed a peaceful night untroubled by nightmares.
At dawn the following morning she was up and, after a hurried breakfast, she paid her bill and was ready to board the coach to Kentak which, she’d been warned, would pass very early that morning. As soon as the coach arrived she sat herself in her seat and once again gave a big sigh of relief: she was now leaving this wretched Ashapi behind her, hoping never to return. If only she could forget the unpleasantness, and remember only the peaceful day by the lake! Luckily she was alone in the coach this time, and could, without embarrassment, give way to the tears that still consumed her from time to time. As the journey progressed she began to feel a bit calmer and collected, and was quite herself again, she felt, as the coach drew into Kentak that evening without incident.
Hastily disembarking, she made her way along the now-familiar streets to Jack and Adrian’s flat and knocked on the door. It was answered by Jack, who gaped at her in astonishment.
“Why, Stephanie! Whatever are you doing, back here? We thought you’d be halfway to Rigo by now. And where’s Mark? Has something happened? Is everything all right?”
“Yes: everything’s all right. Everything. Couldn’t be more than ‘all right’. And Mark’s fine. It’s just that—he’ll be coming along after me, in a few days. He had to stay behind. Yes, I’m fine, everyone’s fine, nothing—” Her voice cracked, and she burst into tears once again. Adrian appeared, equally perplexed, and they gently ushered her into the flat and sat her down.