Chapter 1 Fatal winter
Elena jumped back against the wall as her father kicked in the door dragging her Mother in by her hair. “What have you done? What have you done?!” He shouted so furious that his breath looked like dragon smoke. Huddled under a pile of blankets in the corner of the room next to a goat that was bleating loudly Elena trembled and said not a word. The headman had little respect for women as it was. He knew that when his back was turned they all gossiped about his terrible leadership. How he and the other men had not worked the fields hard enough last spring. This year’s rationing had become less than slim for the blizzards had not stopped. Several men had been sent to go find other villages for aid. They had yet to be seen.
“I only spoke the truth of what the elements spoke to me.” Elena’s mother firmly spoke. She was the last shrine maiden left. Two others had been attacked this year before the Frost, by animals in the woods. The markings were so strange it could not be determined whether it had been bears or wolves. Because of their calling it was even suggested that demons were lurking.
“Go back and tell them this winter will ebb soon! Go back and give them hope!”
“I will not lie! The signs are everywhere that this winter will last! Any of the house mothers will tell you so! I need not even return to the shrine! Spring is to come late this year!”
“Housemothers, do not tell me about housemothers! Some of those women have put their own babies out in the cold for the Frost to prey upon! They bring this hell on us all!”
“Why is it you will not take the men to hunt the beasts in the woods? If the village is starving, go find us food! And give us vengeance as well!” His wife angrily retorted.
“Wife things in that wood are not of this earth!” The Headman’s bulging eyes and frog face always betrayed every emotion of panic and fear. He had always been a sad nervous creature not up to his calling. In many ways, Elena understood and pitied him. Like her mother she had the gift of other worldly senses and she hated them. They frightened her. When she tapped into them everything was too surreal and wild. She preferred the steady grounded feeling of just being mortal. She wanted to be a wife and mother and nothing else. Her father wanted only to be a man, not a leader of men.
His statement was amplified by howls in the night and the crackling of Frost. Both he and her Mother gripped their ears. Their eyes had the look of torment.
“They gather soon to attack the village. These creatures mean to feast on us. Husband, I beg you to rally the people!” She gripped his fur coat and he shook her off.
“Rally the people? They are ready to stone us! And what shall I feed them before the hunt?”
“What about our last goat?” Elena dared to speak because she did not wish to be eaten by monsters.
“The milk is more important than the meat it will provide.” The headman looked at his daughter sternly.
“It will be a sacrifice and gesture well made.” Elena’s mother stood entreating.
“It is no use; the men are all too weak.” The Headman wrung his hands.
“Not all, just one.” Elena’s mother spat.
With a roar of anger the Headman struck her. She fell and her head hit the corner of a little wooden table. She would not move ever again. The Headman’s cries turned to anguish as he fell to his knees beside her. Elena bolted to her Mother’s side but she was of no use only cold dead eyes stared up at her. She closed them.
“Will there never be any reprieve!” Her father cried. “What else is to be placed upon my head?” He held onto the limp body of his wife.
He cried out to the deities above and below. “Curse you! Curse you!” As he raved Elena held her father briefly letting him grieve then shushed his sobbing.
“Father fear not. I shall go and tell the villagers that my mother has fallen ill.” She shook as she took her Mother’s hood. An ancient blessing descended from the White Goddess passed from mother to daughter since before the very existence of the village. How very dear it was to her now this mantle and she knew she had to be strong when taking it.
“I shall tell them it was given to me the task of going to the shrine to plead for our village’s sake to the elementals.”
Once again her Father’s eyes grew wide and he gasped, “Yes, yes that might work! Go to the shrine now so they see you! Many of the men admire you! Many seek your hand! And when you return you will give a false prophecy of future prosperity! That should hold the men’s resolve...”
“Very well I go.” Elena turned away quickly so her father would not see her tears. She knew because of his cowardice he would not come with her. She said one last prayer for her mother before opening the door and leaving.
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Elena made her way shakily through the ice covered fields she brought along her scythe. The only weapon she could wield and though she could wield it well (Mostly against grain in the spring) it was only a precaution she had not the stomach for battle. She heard whispers mixed in with the moans of Father Winter. Her tears began to freeze on her face. There was a crackling of branches where no trees were present. She felt someone watching her. Her stomach clenched as she used this sense. As the flurries rose and fell around her Fedor stepped through the snow before her in bright brandishing blue armor. It startled her and she dropped her scythe.
Adorned to command attentive awe and respect among mere mortals, Fedor himself was a naturalist and knew not what his own imagery evoked. Only that it seemed essential when he was to convey a message that must be heard.
“You make more dew drops than a flower Elena. Are you destined to be damp all your life?” Fedor’s own spikey white hair held tinted blue dew as he attentively looked down on Elena, the tallest young woman in the town.
Elena was embarrassed both by his statement and at the circumstances. “Fedor was it you my mother spoke to last?”
“The person she spoke to last was your Father but I can see by you here, wearing that hood that it did not go well for her.”
“She fell ill.” Elena clenched her fists foolishly repeating her lie to him.
“Yes,” Fedor seemed to find humor in her statement. Of course he would. “She certainly did. I suppose you're going into the woods then to uphold your fathers…honor is it?”
Elena nodded, not looking him in the eyes. The shifting of the snow was making her dizzy.
“Elena, I want to give you another choice. There is evil creeping in this forest. If you go there you will be ill fated. Your Mother was already given an answer. She was told to give an animal sacrifice for the sake of your village. Because her powers are not very astute the signs did not come through clearly. She assumed that your father needed to hunt the animal and then again that it was the goat.”
“So which is it?” Elena clenched her hands together for warmth beneath the cape of her hood. Fedor’s look was that of an irritated smith working with a dull tool.
“Neither, if you follow me I will lead you to the animal.”
Elena looked down and she could no longer see her scythe. For a moment she scrambled about looking for it, there was no sign. She did not wish to follow Fedor; he was rumored sometimes to have his way with women and then they died. Still this did not seem to be his purpose here so she let him lead on.
“Listen carefully child, do not hesitate, and do all this in the order in which I speak. The animal you come upon I have frozen for you. It is not dead. Release this feral creature from its twisted misery. Beside it will be two stones, smash its head with them.”
Elena gasped; such brutality so soon in her grief.
“Afterwards, you will meet a man. Go to the village and announce to the men that whosoever destroys the monsters in wood with silver tipped arrows will become your husband. This will rally the men to courage, and the one destined to be your husband shall become the new headman.” Elena felt as spun as the fluttering flakes around them. If Fedor said these words they could be true.
“There it is.” Fedor pointed to a calico, mostly tan wild cat. It was of the small variety. In more prosperous days the villagers would take them in as pets. It was curled and still in a drift that looked as soft as a pillow.
“Have you no blade or sharp object Fedor? I have bled rabbits before.”Elena entreated.
“All I can give I am giving you. I have frozen the creature and that is enough. Trust me this is no rabbit. A rabbit has a desire to live.” He turned around and placed his hands upon her shoulders. Her teeth began to chatter. He became strangely sympathetic, “Above all dew drop, do not enter the woods or you shall come to fear Spring more than Winter.”
Howls echoed through the air. Fedor briskly descended down another path. “I shall lead them away from you, hurry.” A flurry and he was gone.
Elena hesitated, she trembled and chattered, confused by this bizarre confrontation. Eventually she did pick up the stone, as she began to move the cat stirred. Its eyes opened narrowly. They were deep and dark, it stopped moving and only looked at her.
“I’m so sorry.” She sobbed, “So very sorry.” Elena held the little animal close to her and stroked it, trying to give it some comfort before the end.
Elena had killed animals before. One could not live in this harsh land and not know how. However, the death of her mother was still fresh in her head. It seemed to her that this was an evil deed. And what of Fedor’s words? She was too numb to really think about their meaning.
“Elena what are you doing out here?” It was Sadko from the village. Long had he been her childhood friend. He ran the smithy and sometimes left to merchant the town’s goods with his Father. Though all the women in the village desired him as all the men desired Elena he had yet to ask one to be his bride. They had taken long walks near the river Vashko, for which the town also was named after. Often he soothed her heart with song.
“Oh Sadko, I am so glad you are here!”
“Elena, I saw you leave your hut. You will freeze if you stay out here much longer.” Sadko knelt down and felt her forehead; his hands were warm and gentle.
“Sadko, Fedor says I must kill this cat or we will have reason to fear Spring!” Elena blurted because she was always one to speak plainly.
Sadko held her close and rocked her. “What has confounded you? Has the Frost driven you mad? What need have we to fear spring? It is a time of rebirth. Fedor is a disciple of Father Winter. Perhaps that is why he is speaking so.”
“Sadko, listen, you must believe me. I am not mad! You know me as a brother should. Look into my eyes.”
“I believe you Elena, tell me more.” He gestured for her to continue.
“He says I am to send the men in the village to fight the monsters with silver tipped arrows.”
“The monsters have silver tipped arrows?” Sadko smiled.
“No, the men are to arm themselves with them! And the one who kills the monsters I am to wed!” She said with exasperation.
“Is this so? Only my father is rich and traveled enough to own silver.” Sadko frowned and then brightened. “Silver tipped arrows will take time to prepare. Come back with me to the village Elena and I shall forge them!”
“No, first I must kill this cat!” At Elena’s words the cat hissed and scratched Sadko’s face and ran off. It had warmed in between them and now was headed for the forest.
“Tell the men in the village what I said!” Elena suddenly found strength from his touch. “I must do this!” She ran into the woods after the cat. She paused to see if he would follow instead he did as he was bid. Sourly she spoke her thoughts out loud, “He does not believe me. He does not offer to help me search for the cat. Sadko is no different than my father, a coward with emotions on his face.”