Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection (3 page)

He leaned down and cooled her heated cheek
with his cold one and whispered, “Tonight I make love to you and
nothing on this earth or from the Other World will stop me.”

She sighed heavily and he knew it signaled
her resignation of the matter, though that did not always settle
it. He eyed her cautiously as she finished cleaning his wound
before applying comfrey paste. He didn’t know much about her
healing herbs, only the ones she used often. She had made it known
to the clan that all wounds were to be treated immediately and no
one had objected. But then no one denied his wife anything and it
wasn’t because he was her husband, it was simply because they loved
and admired her good and generous nature.

Of course few realized that she possessed a
stubborn streak as mulish as his, at least when it came to
protecting him.

When she finished she turned a dazzling smile
on him. “Time
we
make a plan to catch the hobgoblin.”

“
We
can make a plan,” Eric said
standing, “but
you
will not be accompanying me to see it
done.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said returning
her healing items to one of many baskets she kept ready throughout
the keep.

Eric looked to Borg for help in convincing
her, but the mile-wide grin he wore told Eric he’d be of no
help.

Faith confirmed his suspicion. “Your brother
will not help you with this. Besides Borg fears Other World
creatures whereas I have herbs that offer at least a modicum of
protection from them.”

Borg nodded. “Faith is right.”

“Will you never disagree with my wife?” Eric
asked frustrated.

“I will when she’s wrong,” Borg said, his
grin growing ever wider if that was possible.

“I will not permit you to go with me,” Eric
ordered his wife with the firmness of a chieftain setting a
decree.

Faith stepped close to her husband and laid a
firm hand to his chest. “You are my heart. It beats as one with
mine. If anything happens to you, it happens to me. If you die, I
die, though I may still walk this earth, I would be dead without
you.”

Eric spoke more profoundly with action than
he did with words and so he took hold of his wife and kissed her.
It was a lingering kiss that spoke softly of his love for her
before turning firm to let her feel the power of his love, and that
it was forever, not only here on this earth, but beyond.

Her head rested to his chest when it ended
and Eric laid his cheek to the top of her head. Their son woke with
a start at that moment and Eric, keeping one arm around his wife,
spread his other arm out to take his son.

Borg placed the crying babe in Eric’s arm. As
soon as he brought his son to rest to his chest to cuddle with
Faith, the child instantly settled and once again slept.

Eric kept firm, protective arms around his
family. He would do anything to keep them safe as would Faith. And
he knew there and then she would not let him go after the Hobgoblin
alone.

“You will follow me even if I order you to
stay,” he said clarifying what he already surmised.

“I will,” she said in a firm whisper and
looked up at him. “I would follow you to hell and take on the devil
himself to keep you safe.”

“I have no doubt you would be the victor in a
match with the devil.”

Faith smiled. “I always am.”

~~~

The clouds had thickened and a fine mist
fell, though no doubt heavier rain would follow. Eric wanted this
over and done before the brewing storm broke. He hadn’t liked
Faith’s suggestion of being the bait that would attract the
Hobgoblin, even though it made the most sense. And of course Borg
had to agree with her and try as he might to convince them
otherwise, he hadn’t been able to and so here they were in the
woods, his wife looking as if she had come to collect herbs, a
basket on her arm.

Eric had insisted that she fill it with as
many protective herbs as she possessed and to wear some on her
person. She also added some honey bread in with the herbs to dilute
the stinging scent of one particular one. He had tried to coax Rook
into coming with them, but the large dog refused to budge from his
spot by the hearth. He even whined when Faith grabbed the basket
she always took when foraging the woods. It was as if he warned her
not to go and that had raised the hairs on Eric’s neck.

He badly wanted to kill the hobgoblin, but
Faith and Borg had cautioned against it. They both felt it would
cause great unrest and anger with the Other World. They presently
lived well off the land and inciting the ire of the Other World
could change all that.

The creature had to be caught and cast back
to where he belonged. But what if he didn’t want to go back? And
why was he making himself known in the first place? The Other World
rarely if ever allowed anyone to see them. Could this hobgoblin be
a renegade or an outcast, if there was such a thing in their
world?

Eric would have his answers soon enough, for
this time he was prepared. The creature would not escape him. This
time he was ready for battle and he would be victorious.

His wife crouched down to examine a plant and
that was when he heard the scurry of footfalls. With his eyes wide
and his ears alert, Eric listened. The creature’s steps grew hasty
and he deduced it gathered speed for the attack.

Eric didn’t move, didn’t make a sound; he
continued to listen and determine in what direction the creature
came. It took only moments for Eric to calculate his direction and
another moment to move into position. He pulled the sack from his
belt and made ready to catch the hobgoblin.

With patience born of a seasoned warrior Eric
waited for the precise moment and as the hobgoblin burst out of the
woods and headed for Faith, so did he.

His feet took flight like never before and he
cried out, “Down, Faith.”

She hit the ground flat and he vaulted over
her, his sack open wide to come down over the hobgoblin.

Unearthly screeches pierced the chilled air
and sent shivers racing through Eric and Faith.

The hobgoblin was not happy about being
caught.

~~~

Ear-splitting screeches ripped through the
woods and Eric fought to keep hold of the struggling hobgoblin. He
would have liked to give the creature a sound thrashing for all the
troubles he had caused, but he was from the Other World and like it
or not Eric had to be cautious in his actions.

The best thing for him to do was to find out
why the little creature had been such a nuisance and send him home
where he belonged never to step foot on Shanekill land again.

Eric gave the squirming sack a good shake and
this time it was a woeful shout that pierced the air.

“Eric, please put him down,” Faith said
resting a tender hand to his arm.

He had no intentions of complying with his
wife’s request but her gentle touch and the soulful look in her
lovely eyes made him think twice.

“Trust me,” she whispered.

Trust was something that hadn’t been easily
established between them at first. It had taken time for them both
to come to know each other, though it hadn’t taken long to fall in
love with his wife. He believed he had been struck by love the very
first time he had looked into her eyes. And no doubt it was love
that had helped them both heal old wounds and learn to trust.

So the two words, ‘trust me’ meant much more
than anyone could ever imagine, making it impossible for Eric to
refuse her.

Eric plopped the creature down on the ground
and that was when he noticed the feet, though smeared with layers
of grime, they were feet like any others. And they were attached to
skinny legs just as laden with dirt. He had expected something
unusual like three-toed feet and thick hairy legs.

He was even more surprised when Faith hunched
down beside the sack and said, “It’s all right. No one is going to
hurt you.”

Why the devil was she comforting the annoying
creature? He had all he could do to hold his tongue, but hold it he
did. After all she had asked him to trust her and trust her he
would.

“I’m going to remove the sack,” Faith said,
brushing Eric’s hand away and replacing it with her own. “Do not
run. You will not be harmed. Understand?”

The head inside the sack nodded.

His wife’s soothing tone probably mesmerized
the creature. It did him. Endless times her gentle way had helped
ease his anger or stilled his impatience. When troubled he often
sought her counsel and it wasn’t so much what she said, it was how
she listened, how she soothed with tender words and comforted with
a gentle touch.

Damn the hobgoblin for stealing his wife from
him in more ways than one.

Faith eased the sack up along the small
creature slowly revealing filthy arms and clothes, and as she did
Eric shook his head.

“It couldn’t be,” he whispered, though his
wife heard and nodded.

Faith gently lifted the sack completely off.
Eric and she stood wide- eyed staring at the small lad who stared
back with even wider eyes that grew rounder when he caught sight of
Eric, and instinctively the lad moved closer to Faith.

With a nature born to mothers she slipped her
arm protectively around his skinny waist.

Hands on hips, Eric glared down at the lad.
No wonder he had thought him a hobgoblin. He was covered in grime
from head to toe and a foul odor drifted off him. He couldn’t have
been more than five years and so skinny that a mild breeze would
blow him over.

And he trembled; his whole scrawny little
body shaking with fear.

Eric eased down beside his wife. “What is
your name, lad.”

He moved closer to Faith, his dirty arm
reaching out, pushing her hair aside as it wrapped around her neck.
He gasped when he caught sight of her scar. His rounded eyes glared
in horror at it and then at Eric.

Faith laid a gentle hand to the lad’s face
turning it toward her. “Lord Eric helped me when no one else would.
And he protected me when no one else cared to.”

The lad’s hand rose slowly, hesitantly until
he laid a finger to her scar. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.” She smiled. “Lord Eric has
made certain of that. And he will do the same for you if you let
him.”

His wife’s reassuring words twisted at his
gut. They were so true. No one had cared to protect Faith until he
had come along, though that quivering coward of a dog Rook had
fared well enough. He had attempted to ward off Eric, though a
stern command had sent him hiding behind Faith’s back. In the end
however, Rook had been there for Faith even if it had meant risking
his life and for that the dog had his eternal gratitude and
respect.

Eric held his hand out to the lad. “Take it
and I will keep you safe.”

The lad was hesitant and Eric didn’t blame
him. He was much too young to be on his own and struggling to
survive. He wondered what had happened to the lad, though would not
ask. First he needed to gain the lad’s trust.

Finally the lad’s tiny hand reached out and
Eric noticed the thick dirt beneath his ragged fingernails. He
could only imagine how frantically the little fellow must have dug
for food or dug a hole to seek warmth or protection, or used them
as weapons to help steal food. And how had he survived the woods
with its many predators, animal and human alike?

Eric took the lad’s hand and in an instant
had him in his arms and then stood. He felt his small body quake
against his large one as he extended his hand to help his wife
stand. While he knew the lad no doubt would prefer to be in Faith’s
arms, he had no intention of letting his wife tote the dirty laid
back to the keep.

There were questions he had, but they would
wait. Food and a bath were in order and the sky was growing ever
darker. A storm would break any moment and he wanted them safely
home in the keep. Eric could not help but imagine the lad curled up
somewhere in the woods trying desperately to seek shelter from
torrential rain.

He tightened his hold on the lad intending to
keep him and his wife safe.

The little fellow turned frightened eyes on
Eric and with a tear about to fall from the corner of one eye he
said, “I’m not a hobgoblin.”

“No. No you are not,” Eric said firmly as if
he had issued a decree. “And everyone will see that for
themselves.”

And they did. Villagers scurried out of their
cottages even though the rain had begun to fall once Eric and Faith
entered the village. Relieved smiles spread across a sea of faces
and wagging tongues began spreading the news.

The Irish Devil had caught the hobgoblin and
he was nothing more than a young lad.

Once they entered the keep Faith turned to
Eric. “You will see to our son while I see to washing and feeding
the lad?”

Did he have a choice? He certainly did. He
was the chieftain of his land, his orders followed without
question. He could direct a servant to see to the lad’s care. Faith
was already exhausted from tending so many of the villagers today
and caring for their son. Seeing to the lad would only exhaust her
more and no doubt end any thought of sharing a night of love with
her.

He wanted to grumble and protest and demand
to know when she would have time for him. But he didn’t. He had
understood since they had first met that Faith’s healing work was
important to her as was caring for people. And she never failed to
show how much she cared for him, so he couldn’t be selfish now.

“Do what you must. I will see to our
son.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “I realize
more everyday why I love you so very much.”

Damn if he didn’t want to drop the lad in a
servant’s arms, scoop up his wife and carry her to their bedchamber
and lock everyone out for the entire night.

Instead he handed the lad over to Faith and
as he did, he asked, “Your name, lad.”