another tale

So once there was an old woman and she lived all by herself in her little house, all away from the little town.  Sometimes there were travelers coming down the little road, but most times not.  The old woman had her life that hardly ever changed and she was happy with nobody to bother her.  Then one day a rider came down the road.

He was riding on a big brown horse, and she was lazy and slow but he did not seem to mind very much.  He was turning his head and looking every which way like he was lost or had lost something.  The horse came up to the old woman's little house and stopped.  The rider didn't notice for a minute or two that his mount wasn't moving at all anymore, she had been moving so slowly.  The old woman was beating her rugs when she saw them approach and when they stopped she hobbled right up to the side of the horse and croaked, "Can I help you with something, young man?"

"Well, Old Aunt," said the young rider politely, "I am on a mission from the Duke of Ouveriandor, from across the mountains.  I am to find a girl who is special."

The old woman laughed and laughed and gasped out at the end of her happy howling, "My dear, surely you must know by now that all girls are special."

"Well, yes, Old Aunt," answered the rider, more than a little flustered and shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "but this girl is special in a different way.  She can speak to the beasts."

The old woman turned and walked away, waving her arms over her head and called back so the rider could hear, "Dear young man, those are but stories that we fools in the little towns tell each other on dark nights when there are storms or over the feast fire for our enjoyment.  There is no truth to them, except, maybe a stretching of what is really truth."

"But, Old Aunt, I must be sure of these things before I return to the Duke.  How far away is the town from here?"  The old woman heaved a heavy sigh.  She pointed to the sky and said, "Look, young man, the sun is sinking low.  You will not arrive before the dark comes and the roads are not safe at night.  There are thieves and...wolves."

"My horse is swift."  And the old woman eyed them.

"When she wants to be."  And the old woman eyed harder.

"I think you ought to stay in my little house tonight.  You will reach the town tomorrow and you will see how quickly you arrive.  But in the night, all the roads are longer and the hours are longer and our lives are that much shorter for it."

The old woman carefully took in her raggedy rugs and the rider helped.  Then they had a small but tasty supper of beer broth and hearty peasant bread.  Then they went to sleep to await the daylight.  The old woman hustled the rider, her guest, into her bedroom where she had put fresh sheets and blankets on her own bed for him, and before he could protest she slammed the door behind him.  "It is rude to refuse hospitality," he told himself.  And he buried himself in the bedclothes and was soon fast asleep.

And dreaming.

Dreaming of the Great City that was made of precious stones and jewels and shining metals and rose smooth and sleek into the sky.  Everybody dreamed of entering the Great City and here he was.  But in his dream, although he had forgotten.  Out of the corner of his eye, he kept seeing a silhouette, in the shape of a wolf with a big, toothy smile, but when he looked straight at the shadow there was none.  He was wandering the glittering streets under the orange-y sun when he saw the girl, the girl who must be the one he was seeking.  She was dressed in simple peasant's garb that looked washed-out and strange against all the richness of the City and then she saw him too.  And she ran.  She ran into a tiny alleyway and he followed, shouting, "Wait!  I have a message from the Duke!  I beg you listen and at least give an answer I can take back to my lord!"  Then they were at the end.  There was a wall.  And the girl was trapped with no way out.  She turned and stared with eyes full of terror and the rider was about to comfort her when he thought she was looking at something behind him.  He turned.  And saw nothing.  And he turned back.

And the demon's face filled his vision.  With a thousand dagger-teeth.  With leathery skin.  With long, long claws clicking on the stones.  With great black holes for eyes.  Holes that were empty and could not see but did see and saw him and he knew he had to get away.

And he sat up gasping in the old woman's bed.

The sun was just rising.  He went into the kitchen where the old woman was warming toast and porridge and they ate together.  He did not mention his dream.  They did not speak to each other over breakfast.

He went out to fetch his horse and she came lazily at his whistle.  As he laid saddle and bridle on the steed, the old woman said with words like wintery stones, "Some things are best left undisturbed.  You are young but you should learn this now."  Then he mounted up and thanked his host and she waved him off smiling.  Then he rode into the little town where nobody knew any answers to his questions.

In the middle of the night, he awoke with a start in his lumpy inn bed.

He had just realized that the dress on the girl in his dream was exactly the same as the old woman's.

And at that moment a gleeful wolf howl came in through the window.