Chapter Text
The wooden wheels of the carriage roll along the gradually narrowing road, compacting two ruts in the turned-up mud where the team of black horses have stepped. Wind tosses the branches above, sending leaves and twigs spinning down with the pouring rain. The two lanterns attached to the front of the carriage barely illuminate a yard beyond the horses, so the progress is slow, through ground growing ever closer to a mire. Sheets of water rattle loudly off the roof and incessantly drum against the little lighted window in the side.
Rhoslyn stares out at the storm swept forest from the relatively cozy interior and shudders, pulling her blanket closer around herself and wishing that she was at Rosewood Lodge already. All the boys, Godric, Richard, and even Kestrin, had arrived a week earlier, but she had caught a cold and her parents wouldn’t let her travel.
“They’ve probably been having tons of fun without me,” she thinks sulkily, kicking the base of the empty seat across from her. Carriage rides were fun with the boys, they would all joke and tease each other and play corners until they reached their destinations. No doubt that if they were here they would be making up a game even now involving the weather, such as counting the seconds between lightning and thunder.
A particularly large bolt of lightning angles its way across the sky like a twisted silver tree that bears no leaves. It lights up the carriage and the whole forest for a split second, and is immediately followed by a terrific crash of thunder and a gust of wind so strong that Rhoslyn swears that the right-hand wheels of the carriage lift for a moment. The single candle lighting the interior is blown out, and she gives a small shriek of surprise at the sudden darkness.
Once she has adjusted though, she realises she can see the outside much clearer. Pressing her face to the window, she uses the lightning flashes to watch how the trees bend and creak in the tempest outside. She suddenly narrows her eyes, off in the forest is what appears to be a covered lantern, bobbing its way through the trees as its invisible carrier walks along the edge of the woods. By the way they frequently move behind tree trunks, Rhoslyn figures they must be actually inside the forest, behind the low stone wall that marks the boundary. She watches the lantern until it has quite disappeared into the grey, then sits back on her seat, shivering and drawing her blanket closer.
It seems forever, but Rhoslyn finally feels the small wooden bridge that starts the lead up to Rosewood Lodge under the carriage wheels. It stops, and a groom runs out with a large oilcloth cloak to shelter her as she hurries the few steps into the lighted house. Despite this, she is still damp and shivering by the time she gets there, and she is ushered quickly into the living room, where a bright fire is blazing in the grate and the three boys are waiting for her.
“Rhoslyn,” Kestrin yells in delight, crossing the room to hug her. “You’re… wet.”
“Have you looked outside lately Kes?” Godric asks him good-humouredly. Richard is sitting in an armchair near the fire, but he springs up at her approach and moves it closer.
“Here,” he says, gesturing to it and going to sit on the couch with Godric. Rhoslyn smiles thankfully at him and sits on the edge, warming her hands, while Kestrin pulls up a footstool so he can sit next to her.
“Thanks, Richard,” she says, once her teeth have stopped chattering
He shrugs. “I’m just glad there’s finally someone here that isn’t completely obsessed with battle tactics”.
“Hey!” Kestrin objects, at the same time Godric says.
“Bold move of you to assume our sister isn’t the worst of us Rich.”
“You talked about the Battle of Agincourt for five hours yesterday.”
“And?” Kestrin pipes up, grinning. “Godric has a… very unique opinion on how it was won, I just had to hear all of it so that I might laugh properly.”
Godric reaches across Richard to lightly whack Kestrin across the head. “Listen here you little shi-”
Richard takes the opportunity of Godric leaning across him to deliver his own thump on the head. “Oh do shut up Goddles.”
Kestrin bursts into hysterical giggles while Godric rubs his head and glares. “I’m sorry, Goddles?”
“Mhm. It’s your new nickname, I’ve just decided,” Richard says loftily, though he can’t quite hide the twitch to his lips as he tries not to smile. “Brothers should have nicknames for each other.”
A maid brings them all chamomile tea, and Rhoslyn sips at it while laughing at the boys’ bickering, already feeling the loneliness of the past week slipping away to be replaced by warmth.
“Anyway, how was the journey Rhos?” Godric asks her, finally deciding to change the subject. “Anything exciting happen?”
“Not really,” Rhoslyn says, dismissing how much she had hated the entire drive. “I did see a weird thing though.”
“Oh? What weird thing was that?” Godric asks, casually taking a sip of tea.
“I thought I saw a lantern in the woods,” she says thoughtfully. “I wonder why someone would be out in such weather?”
“Likely just a woodcutter or peasant heading home,” Richard says quickly. He and Godric share a quick glance. “He probably got caught up in the storm.”
“But it’s been raining ceaselessly for three days,” Kestrin objects. “He could hardly have been taken by surprise.”
“Well then maybe he was collecting more firewood to keep the damp out of his house,” Godric says firmly.
“What if it was a she?” Rhoslyn says, wondering why people always assumed it was a man. “Could have been anyone.”
“It doesn’t really matter anyway,” Godric says with a tone of finality, and changes the subject.
Rhoslyn climbs the wooden stairs to her bedroom that night, flickering candlestick in hand. It is still pouring rain outside and the old lodge is drafty, so she is glad that there is already a fire burning in the grate and her room is warm. It has barely changed since she was last a guest at the Lodge. The floors are wooden, with a fur rug in front of the stone fireplace. All the furniture - a dressing table with an oval mirror, a large bed with crimson hangings, a trunk at the foot, and a washstand - are all made of dark wood. Candlesticks light the room where the fire does not.
Rhoslyn changes into her nightgown and lays shivering under her covers as the storm continues to rage around. The wooden house creaks and groans around her, though all the sounds are half-drowned out by the storm. A loud bang sounds and her eyes fly open, only to be transfixed by the shadow of a man looming over her bed.
With a yell of terror, she leaps out of bed and grabs the sword sitting by her nightstand, pointing it at what was only a shadow. The fire makes the darkness weave and flicker around her.
“Just a shadow Rhoslyn. It was just a shadow,” she tells herself, though the sword stays up, with her pointing it at anything that moves. Suddenly possessed by the idea that something was going to come out from under the bed and grab her ankles, she leaps back onto it and presses her back to the wall, shivering and still clutching her sword.
The door creaks open, and a candle is poked through, followed by a head.
“Kestrin,” Rhoslyn says in relief, recognising the curly black hair. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you were ok,” he says, taking a tentative step into the room. “Thought you might be scared ‘cos of the storm.”
“I’m not scared,” Rhoslyn says immediately, hiding her sword under the covers.
“Oh.” Kestrin shuffles a little further in and closes the door. “You sure? I thought I heard-”
A sudden gust of wind blows through, scattering ash across the floor and extinguishing the candle. Kestrin gives a yelp and jumps onto the bed, and they cling to each other in fright, Rhoslyn brandishing her sword.
“I think I’ll just… stay here for the night,” Kestrin says, eyes wide. “To make sure you aren’t scared.”
“You’re just as scared as I am!” Rhoslyn says indignantly. A shadow moves and her sword flashes up as her heart leaps. “But fine, you can stay.”
“Thanks.” He wastes no time crawling in next to her and wriggling down until only his eyes show above the covers. Rhoslyn remains bolt upright, staring around her as her golden hair fans over her shoulders.