After Wren's big dramatic scene where she cried about not wanting to be a bad person, not wanting to kill even if it was a life or death situation, Aribelle had received a lot of the same spiel from a few others. Those with children want to back out and live in Jurot without being needed to fight another's battle. Then there are those who wish to go back to their homelands and beg their families to come live here. Meanwhile, Aribelle has been struggling to get everyone to understand they are all pack, all family, including the witches and warlocks. She made a promise to the coven that she would help them reclaim their homeland, and that meant she would need the entire pack to come with her, because if Agatha was correct, then whatever zealot group chased them from their home has claimed it for their own. War seemed inevitable, and she wasn't one to try for peace with pretty words and cleverly worded lies, so a fight to the death it would be.
"Alpha, is everything alright?" Aeson said carefully.
"What?" Aribelle snapped, then realized that she was standing outside the door to the hut, and Aeson had opened it upon hearing her approach.
Taking a deep breath, Aribelle calmed herself, tampering down that explosive rage that threatened to erupt every time she thought back to Wren's act of defiance.
"Yes, everything is fine," Aribelle said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You will need to patch up this man, mind your rear, though; he's quite grabby."
"Did this cretin touch you, Alpha?" Aeson said with a disgusted look at Thame.
"He did, but as you can see, I took care of that," Aribelle said, baring her teeth.
Aeson grabbed Thame and escorted him none too gently to the nearest bed, where he pushed him down and began examining his neck. Aribelle watched with mild interest, not caring about the injured man, but rather curious to see what Aeson would do to treat her soon-to-be prisoner. Aeson bent low over the bed, his seven-foot frame lean and toned; his skin was hazelnut, as were his eyes, with a long black beard that hung to mid-chest. Aeson's face still had a youthful roundness to it, not yet wrinkled and weathered by time.
Aeson poured a vial of liquid over the puncture wounds, causing Thame to scream and cuss, which then made Aribelle snicker under her breath. With deft fingers, Aeson stitched up the holes and gave Thame a tincture for the pain. Eventually, the entire process became far too boring for Aribelle, who began dozing softly in a chair nearby. The sound of approaching footsteps had Aribelle's eyes snapping open, her eyes on the door, and her body tensed to launch herself across the hut.
"So sorry I'm late, Aeson. I had trouble finding some of the herbs on your list," Wren said with a bright, cheery smile, her blonde ponytail swaying behind her.
"Oh. Hello, Alpha," Wren said, stopping in her tracks when she saw Aribelle.
"Enjoying your apprenticeship?" Aribelle asked, cutting her gaze to the brothers who sat whispering together.
"Very much so, Alpha. I am so grateful--"
"I don't actually care enough to hear about it, Wren. From now on, a simple yes or no when I ask a question will suffice," Aribelle said, cutting off what was sure to be an annoyingly cheerful rant about how much fun it is to heal rather than kill.
It was truly nauseating being around people who were happy for no reason, Aribelle thought. It also bothered her that the brothers kept glancing her way during their whispering. The two were up to no good and likely thought her a fool who would offer them nothing but the best hospitality that she could provide.
"Aeson, these two get tied to a bed until I come for them in the morning. Wren, go through their belongings and check if there's anything suspicious in there. They eat, they sleep, even if you need to give them a potion. No more whispering or you knock them both out, got it?" Aribelle said firmly as she got up to leave.
"Of course, Alpha," Aeson said immediately.
"Yes, Alpha," Wren mumbled.
Aribelle winked at the brothers' outraged expressions and sauntered out the door. It had been a long day, and she was ready to eat and get in her bed, torturing those two intruders could wait just a few more hours. Her cabin was an hour walk from the healer's hut, which was stationed in the thick of the general population. Being an hour away worked well for everyone because the Alpha made everyone nervous, and that just pissed Aribelle off.
Far from the healer's hut, Aribelle whistled long and loud, followed by three short high-pitched whistles --her secret call to the only person in Jurot that she truly trusted. She stood in the darkest part of the woods, under a towering oak tree, whose branches hung so low that they brushed against her feet. Minutes later, Nilzan's smoky scent reached her nostrils, and his honey-colored hair peeked out from the tree next to her.
"Good evening, Alpha," Nilzan greeted.
"I found two intruders near the northern cliffs. They claim to have been shipwrecked and scaled the cliffs to reach safety. I do not believe their story, nor do I like how they whisper together like gossiping girls," Aribelle said shortly, dismissing the pleasantries.
"Ah, so not a good evening then. What would you have me do?" Nilzan replied.
"I need two posts hammered behind my house. I will be relocating the prisoners there tomorrow, so I can get the answers I need without the two healers begging me to use words instead of my favorite knife," Aribelle said with a wicked smirk.
Nilzan chuckled low, with an approving feral look in his grey eyes.
"Those poor bastards. I will see it done before morning, Alpha," Nilzan vowed.
With an over-exaggerated bow, Nilzan waltzed away, whistling a jaunty tune. Aribelle smiled to herself as she headed home, feeling the never-ending rage subside just the slightest bit.
There is something about knowing you will soon be torturing two very handsome men that just fills a girl with wicked glee.
Seven: Desperate Measures
“Can I be a healer when I grow up, Momma?”
“That is nonsense, my beauty. Only those who cannot fight become healers. You see, they take care of the true warriors.”
Wren sat at the wooden writing desk, reading over the descriptions of a variety of plants, and studying their imprints. Aeson had been polite enough to wait for the Alpha to leave before admonishing Wren for returning to the hut without crucial ingredients for the tonic they were brewing. Of course, the healer had been kind and gentle with his words, but he made her realize how many lives could be lost if medicines were not available. Never again, she vowed to herself, would she ever return empty-handed of much-needed supplies, especially when she could save a life.
That was what Wren truly desired. She did not want to kill people or join the Alpha's stupid army. Wren did not care about the coven's problems, or that the Alpha had some grand plan to make Jurot recognized as a kingdom and secure the rights of her fellow half-wolf people to be allowed to walk freely in other lands. The only person Wren was worried about was herself, and the only thing she wanted to do was get back home to her family. So here she was, working for hardly any coin as the healer's help, hoping with increasing desperation that soon she would be able to afford commissioning a traveler to bring her home to Olthaire.
"Wren, I am going out to gather those herbs you missed. I'll be back before midday. You should check their belongings soon, before the Alpha arrives," Aeson said as he walked to the door, carrying a large burlap sack over his shoulder.