“Speak, daughter. What do you desire?” Ipos asked, giving Violant what he thought to be a fatherly smile. It would have been a moving gesture if not for the fact that Ipos’s head was that of a lion and his well-intentioned smile thus became a terrifying presentation of his fangs.
“Well…” she said, still hesitating “I guess it’s all fine if the wild hunt accepts my original request. If that shouldn’t be enough though, seeing as you seem to hold a kind of authority over them, oblige them to come to my aid whenever I need it.”
Regarding the fact that the demonic host was one of the most dreaded armies in the other march it doubtlessly was a good deal for both sides she proposed. The victim got quasi-immortal troops – the ghosts and demons of the wild could hardly be killed after all – while the perpetrators got off almost scot-free.
“So be it.” the infernal earl consented to the arrangement “I don’t think we will ever meet again in your lifetime, my daughter, but you never know.” Then he disappeared like a wisp of smoke, as did the infernal flames at the same time. All Ipos left behind was the carbonized skeleton of a once awe-inspiring old tree and an intolerable smell of sulfur.
Violant flinched with disgust just moments later when she witnessed the cowering nachtjäger kissing her boots.
“I swear you eternal loyalty, my savior.” Banadietrich vowed “The wild hunt and I will always do your bidding, no matter what it might be. You are our eternal benefactor. I…”
“Please stand up first.” interrupted him the young lady, hardly able to tolerate the huntsman’s groveling behavior any longer.
The leader of the wild hunt followed the request, lifting his headgear in form of a deer skull for the first time to show his deep respect. In the process it became apparent that he had a pair of gorgeous blue eyes. Then the red-haired girl accepted his expression of loyalty, symbolically knighting the once again kneeling Banadietrich with the magicless tip of her spear.
In the early morning when the diffuse light of day only hardly managed to brighten the foggy forest, Violant and Alarun stood in front of what had once been the elderly schrat’s home. The little hut from tree roots and moss had been destroyed so thoroughly that it was nearly impossible to tell what once had been here if not for prior knowledge. The wild hunt had completely returned to its lair inside of Mt. Hackelberg. Only the night-raven sat on a tree in some distance. The animal whose name was Hraban accompanied the margravial lady quasi as an envoy of the wild hunt. Hraban would in future bring Violant’s messages to the wild hunt and their replies back to her.
“I am so sorry, Alarun.” the girl spoke with a remorseful voice “If it weren’t for me and that stupid bet you wouldn’t be homeless now.”
“Could be worse, child.” Alarun replied fairly composed, even trying to comfort the human next to her with her bony age spotted hand. “At least I still have my life and who knows when the wild hunt would have found my little abode otherwise. It could have been much worse, couldn’t it? Don’t resent yourself for this, for I don’t hold it against you at all.”
“You’re right.” Violant consented while wiping her tears “But I still feel responsible. Why don’t you come with me to Avallach? I could provide you a place there.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“It might be true that I can stay in this forest no longer, child.” the schrat asserted “But it doesn’t sit well with me that you would provide for me, no questions asked. At least let me do something in return. Let me think, child, let me think. You humans are always in need of capable healers, are you not? And as it happens I am a healer myself. Well, I don’t think that I have treated anybody except for myself in the last few centuries but I don’t think I have forgotten anything about it.”
The human girl widened her eyes in surprise. Alarun was a healer? There had only been few mentions of schrat healers in history, for they were many times more difficult to encounter than even your average schrat. But whenever one appeared, injuries and illnesses were healed which were said to be untreatable not only among human doctors but also among other healers in wide parts of the other march.
“Absolutely!” the redhead rejoiced. Having a schrat healer on her side could be an invaluable advantage to the returnee if she wanted to stand against Gervase’s rise to the throne. “By all means, please do work as a healer!”
Alarun was completely taken by surprise when her free hand not holding on to her cane was suddenly grasped by a human girl brimming with mirth. But after the first surprise lessened, the hoary woman remembered that her healing arts once had been called legendary by humans – other Avallachs to boot – and concluded that Violant obviously had heard of it. Her lips slowly rose to form a wry smile.
“Yes, let’s do so, child.” the diminutive old woman consented “I also look forward to practicing my arts again.”
When Violant returned from the other march, accompanied by Alarun and Hraban, she soon ran into Count Wuldington’s men frantically searching for her. After she had explained that her companions weren’t otherworldly hostiles, she immediately was brought to Wuldington Castle.
Among the first to welcome her there was Huwcyn. The ceffyl dwr gave her a good telling-off. It didn’t matter how often his rider assured that she was fine. The water horse went on and on, hoping to persuade her to not crazily do it all alone at least for the nearer future.
“…and thus I managed to convince the wild hunt to cease hunting humans in future.” Violant closed her report and took a sip of the mulled wine she had been given. Of course she had left out the details she didn’t want anyone to know, such as the interference of the demon Ipos. “I’m sorry, Uncle Ally, that I couldn’t save or retrieve any of the missing people from your fief.”
“No need to apologize.” Count Alphege of Wuldington replied. He was a corpulent and good-hearted dumpy man with flowing long chestnut beard and hair, showing the atmosphere of a nice neighborhood uncle although he also could be surprisingly assertive if the situation called for it. A close friend of Orderic, he appeared to not only have a similar character but also a similar build. “I can see that you have done your very best and I sincerely thank you for your efforts, Violant. About dealing with the relatives of the missing people, leave it to the feudal lord or, in other words, me. It isn’t part of your responsibility anymore.”
“You are always so understanding, Uncle Ally.” the red-haired girl remarked with a sad smile allowing her true mental age to show through. She knew that Alphege of Wuldington had died in the civil war because he had trusted the wrong people despite his farsightedness. This time around she would try to prevent this at all costs, since for her Count Wuldington was important family although not related by blood.
After exchanging a few more words about the disappearance case and some chatting about the present situation in the margraviate and the county, Violant retired to catch up on the sleep she had lacked during her time in the other march.
Two days later, after sufficient rest, the young lady proceeded to return home to Avallach. Her entourage consisting of her horse Huwcyn and some knights with the – ultimately failed – mission to guard her from the margraviate’s garrison was now joined by the night-raven Hraban and the schrat Alarun. Since the elderly healer couldn’t ride on horseback, they had to borrow a carriage from Count Wuldington. There was nobody who had protested against this arrangement though, for it was somehow leaked that the hoary woman’s healing arts were unsurpassed in human lands, and every seasoned warrior had high respect for those with medical knowledge. So they started on the way back home, slower than they had come, for sure, but they had no reason to hurry. Violant had successfully completed her mission after all.