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Chapter 4

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Wyches Wood

“Come on; don’t be afraid,” Elinora said, gently coaxing Henry through the threshold between the forest and the manor house grounds.

He hesitated. It felt less protected, out in the open with nowhere to hide, but the trauma of his recent experience was already fading in the safe hands of his new friends. He looked around, then moved forward cautiously, trusting them.

“Don’t worry, this is our home. We’ll get you cleaned up and get you something to eat,” Tillie promised.

He understood her and wagged his tail gratefully, following Elinora as she led them across the lawn and down the moss-strewn steps to the scullery.

“Let’s find Abigail,” she said, opening the door. “She’ll know what to do.”

Inside, the entrance walls were adorned with candles. The hallway was glowing with warm light, and the aroma of savory vegetable pies baking in the kitchen drifted through. Henry perked up and sniffed the air, wagging his tail again.

“Abigail?” Elinora called down the narrow corridor that ran alongside the large kitchen and the butler’s pantry.

A young man walking with a jaunty step appeared in the hall. He was carrying a sack of amaranth cultivated in one of the culinary gardens. “Good afternoon, Wolton girls,” he called out brightly as he approached.

Henry sat down when he saw him coming.

“Good afternoon, Jeppe!” Tillie replied, happy to see him. Everyone could always count on Jeppe to lighten the mood.

Jeppe set the sack down, and when he stooped over to get a closer look at Henry, the red headband holding back his white-blonde hair dropped down over his eyes. Henry wagged his tail at him and tugged on it. Jeppe laughed and ruffled his fur, then pulled the headband back up and stood up. He studied Henry, then eyed Elinora and Tillie’s muddy dresses, playfully furrowing his brows while breaking out into a curious grin. “My, aren’t you lot a proper sight. What have you gotten yourselves into now?” he chuckled.

Tillie looked up guiltily.

“No, don’t answer that. Hold on just a jiff and I’ll go find Abigail for you,” he said picking up the amaranth sack and trotting off.

A few moments later, Abigail came around the corner to greet Elinora and Tillie. “Why, goodness, who do we have here?” she said when she saw they weren’t alone.

“Abigail, this is our friend, Henry,” Tillie said scratching the top of his head, which reached above her knees.

“Henry, is it? My, he’s a nice fellow.” She studied their mud-caked clothing. “Well, fess up, where did he come from?” She looked at Henry intently. They locked eyes, and she paused a moment.

Elinora and Tillie glanced at one another.

“I...we, uh, we went for a walk,” Elinora stammered. “We were walking near the river and found him tangled in a sack on the riverbank. He needed help. We know he doesn’t have a home, and we want to keep him, but...”

“Oh, you poor fellow. You need a good scrubbing after what you’ve been through,” Abigail said tenderly. “Follow me, all of you.”

They left a trail of muddy footprints on the black and white tile floor in the corridor as she led them into the lower-level dining hall. The room was bright and open, with a long wooden table surrounded by twelve chairs. It was attached to the kitchen, divided from it by a little swinging door. In the far corner of the room was a cast iron tub. “Help me lift Henry into it, will you?” she asked.

Elinora and Tillie walked over, and Henry followed. Together they situated him into the tub.

“That’s it,” Abigail said gently. “Wait here. I’ll have Jeppe put on some warm water and have Sabine fetch you both some dry clothes.” She reached over and picked up a wool tartan blanket from one of the chairs and draped it over Henry, then disappeared through the swinging door.

After a moment she returned. “How could such a handsome fellow end up washed up on the riverbank in such a state, for Pete’s sake? I can’t imagine how he could have gotten there. And you say you’re certain he doesn’t have a home?”

Elinora decided this was her opening. “I don’t know how to explain, but you won’t believe it.” She paused, searching for words.

“What she’s trying to say is, we both had a very unnatural experience when we found him,” Tillie interjected. “I mean inexplicable, really. It was as though Henry spoke to us and told us what happened, only without words. We found him tangled in a sack and felt—we knew—how he had gotten there; someone took him from his family and tried to get rid of him by throwing him into the river.”

Abigail frowned.

“I know it sounds impossible, but it really is what happened,” Elinora added. She waited for Abigail’s rebuff.

But she surprised them both. “You went deep into the woods, didn’t you?” It was all that she said, but her words revealed that she knew even more than they realized.

Before either could answer, Jeppe returned with a cart carrying two vessels of warm water and a bowl of breakfast scraps. He picked up a crust of bread with peanut butter and offered it to Henry.

Henry took it gently and gratefully ate, filling his belly with nourishing food. He put his paw on his arm affectionately.

He smiled and scratched his head. “That’s it fella, eat away.”

Just then a young woman entered the room. She was dressed in woolen trousers and an embroidered linen apron, and she wore her dark reddish-brown hair in a short, cropped afro. She placed two sets of clean clothes and shoes on the table. “There you go, lovelies. Abigail said you’d need something warm,” she said.

“Thank you very much, Sabine. I’ll just go down the hall and change,” Elinora said sheepishly, picking up her garments and exiting quietly.

“What’s all this I hear about a new friend, then?” Sabine asked Tillie and Abigail. She glanced at Henry in the tub.

“Sabine, meet Henry. I have a feeling he will be coming to stay at Kellandale for good,” Abigail replied.

Tillie smiled broadly when she heard this.

Sabine bent down to pat him. “He’s very beautiful.” Henry wagged his tail at her rigorously.

“He’s very gentle, too,” Tillie said to her.

Sabine smiled. “Hello there, Henry, dear. Don’t worry, Cora and our friend Jeppe here will make sure you’re well fed,” she said, ruffling his fur as he affectionately nuzzled her.

“Of course, we will,” Jeppe replied, then he and Sabine exited the room together.

Elinora returned in clean clothes a moment later. Tillie quickly resumed the conversation. “To answer your excellent question, Abigail, we didn’t go terribly far into the woods.”

Elinora glanced at her sister, wondering what she would share and what she would omit.

“Actually, we did. We went into the deep woods,” Tillie confessed.

Abigail reached for one of the vessels and poured the warm water over Henry, then added soap and began to scrub. He wriggled in delight. “And how far did you go, Tillie?”

“We saw the tree; I named it Ole Warty,” she replied guiltily.

Abigail continued scrubbing, washing away the dirt caked between Henry’s toes. “Ole Warty. Now that’s a nice, solid name.”

“We’d been up in the tower just before tea and saw...” She put her hand to her mouth and stopped talking.

“The tower? My, you have been busy, Tillie. How on earth did you get inside?”

“I found the key. Elinora tried to stop me, as usual.”

Elinora rolled her eyes.

“Right, well, I got so curious I couldn’t take it anymore. Elinora did too, once we got up there and saw everything. We were looking out and saw a man on the bridge and watched him throw something into the river. We’re sure now that it was Henry. But we didn’t know that at the time, which is why we walked so far, to figure out what the man was doing.”

“Hmmm...well it’s a good thing for Henry you did,” Abigail said, rinsing him off with the second vessel of water. “I had a feeling you two were up to something at tea. You’re never so quiet.”

“But what did we say to make you ask if we went into the deep woods, and what does Henry have to do with it?” Elinora asked.

She paused a moment. “My dears, there is a reason you have been told not to go into the woods, but it’s not quite the reason you think it is. Before I go on, Tillie, perhaps you should get cleaned up, too. This might take a while.”

“Oh, please don’t stop now; it’s torturing me to know what you’re going to say.” She looked down at her damp, muddy dress. She was still shivering and hadn’t even noticed. “Goodness, I really do look a fright. Please, wait for me before you say anything more.” She grabbed her clothing and shoes off the table and slipped out as fast as she could.

While she was gone, Elinora and Abigail fussed over Henry and dried him off in the tub. He shook his body, spattering the tub walls with his wet, but now luxuriously clean, fur. His coat was a beautiful brindle color, soft and shiny.

“Look there, he’s got a sweet little patch of white fur on his neck,” Abigail said, now that they could see with all the mud gone. “That’s a good boy,” she said softly as they lifted him out of the tub. “You’ve found a fine companion here, Elinora. We just need to get a little meat on his bones. Emil can look him over later, and he will be just fine.”

“Henry’s just beautiful, isn’t he? He has such a gentle look in his eyes.”

Abigail smiled and nodded. “I’ll go put on a pot of tea and then I will tell you and your sister everything I know,” she said, exiting the room again.

Henry could hear Tillie scurrying through the hallway. He stood up, his ears perked, and his tail wagged when she entered the room. He had never known happiness or kindness from humans in his short life and her exuberance made him very feisty.

Abigail returned with a tea pot, three cups of tea, and a fresh bowl of water for Henry. “Ah, that’s much better, Tillie. Come sit down, all of you,” she said.

They followed her to the table and took their seats. Henry curled up at their feet to listen with them.

“You know the legend of the haunted forest—the one in which treacherous things happen to those who travel deep into it,” she began.

They both nodded.

“Now, let me tell you a tale of another kind. A tale of a good forest.”

Tillie breathed in. “I knew it!”

Elinora lifted her teacup to her mouth and sipped, not taking her eyes off Abigail.

“As you know, most have lived in fear of the forest on this property. But did you know that there are those few who knew the real story? They discovered the forest possesses deep, mysterious powers—that Kellandale Wood is a safe place, and a good place. And I am quite sure Henry found his way to you because of it.”

“Go on!” Tillie coaxed.

She smiled. “Well then, as you are also aware, your family members—this includes your father and your aunt Camille, and everyone else who has lived here through the ages—have been told a much more austere version of the story, one that contends that evil and treachery lurks within the deep forest. As children they, too, were forbidden to enter it and were only permitted to walk the grounds of Kellandale Manor so that no harm would come to them. Sound familiar? This is the way it has been for the Woltons all through the generations and how your family has been able to remain living here amidst such frightening tales.”

She paused. “Do you know how these stories came about in the first place?” Elinora and Tillie shook their heads in unison. “The property where Kellandale sits was once an ancient hunting ground.”

“Oh,” Elinora gasped. Her face darkened.

“The manor house was originally built as a hunting lodge for a royal family over four hundred years ago, and it remained as such for a hundred years beyond. The old menagerie held animals they shipped in from faraway places—exotic game for the hunt. They were put on display for guests until they were released into the forest to be hunted along with the native animals. It was fashionable for the time, but here it was excessive. Countless animal lives were lost.”

Tillie grimaced.

“Word of the bounty of animals quickly reached the hungry hunters and poachers in the area, and they decided they wanted a piece of the action, too. But they were prohibited from hunting on the property by the royal family.”

Abigail took a sip from her teacup then continued.

“That part is all fact. Then something happened. As the legend goes, this brutal environment—the hunting, and all the death in the forest—caused the forest rise up to protect itself and all the creatures that dwelled within it. The forest began to demonstrate immense energy, dangerous and powerful. According to the tales, massive limbs from the wych elms would come alive, violently grabbing at and falling onto trespassers, killing those who dared to pass beneath. Some were rumored to have entered the forest never to return. Those who did live to tell the tale were said to have been driven mad with fear. Eventually the estate was abandoned out of fear and left to fall into ruin and decay.

“There is also a place in the forest at the far eastern boundary of the estate where the bloodthirsty poachers set fires attempting to flush out animals so they could get at them. It left the earth scorched and permanently destroyed. And it was there where all this negative energy festered, so they say. To this day it remains a desolate wasteland where no life exists—that’s what began the rumors of a malevolent forest and that is the origin of the fables of Wyches Wood. There are many who still believe it is true to this very day.”

Tillie shot a glance at Elinora to see if she was just as disturbed; she certainly appeared to be.

“How did we not know any of this?” Elinora asked.

“Because your family has always wanted to protect you and spare you the fear. And yet, that is just the beginning of the story.”

“Tell us,” Tillie pleaded.

“Another century went by until the property was inherited by a royal duke. He believed the legend and was afraid of the forest, too. The property became nothing but a burden to him. So, to rid himself of it, he used it as payment to the young man he had hired to travel the world to find treasures for him. Eventually that man and his wife came to settle here.”

“Sir Edward and Lady Vivienne,” Elinora said with a smile.

“Sir Edward and Lady Vivienne. They were grateful for this gift and they renamed the estate Kellandale Wood. And just as you believe, they knew in their hearts that the forest was not a terrible place, but rather a very beautiful, magical place; they alone did not fear it.

“In his time in the trading company, Sir Edward witnessed terrible things—animals captured and exploited, people living in poor conditions. Disheartened by what he saw, he left the trading company to become a teacher. He also dedicated the rest of his life to protecting the forest and its animals, to make up for those crimes committed against fellow living beings.

Kellandale was still known in their time for being a home to some very exotic animals, and indeed, those from the menagerie who had survived had continued to thrive. Sir Edward and Lady Vivienne vowed to keep the hunters away, protecting the land and the lives living within it as best they could until they eventually both passed. The estate was then inherited by their son, William.”

Tillie grinned.

“From what I know, he wanted to protect the woods just as his parents did, and make it a sanctuary. So, using the myth of the haunted forest to his advantage, he perpetuated it, twisting it even more and leading others to believe the wicked forest had affected him adversely.”

Tillie gasped. “Elinora, you didn’t make that up then, did you?”

“No, but I didn’t know the whole story.”

“Abigail, everyone thinks the forest is haunted, and yet, what you say is nothing we have ever been told. How do you know all of this, and do you really think it’s true?” Tillie asked.

She smiled. “Haven’t you already discovered the answer to that yourselves?”

“Why, yes, I suppose we have,” she said, looking up in surprise.

“After Sir William’s passing the property was inherited by Sir Edward’s youngest brother, James—your father’s fourth grandfather—who was aware of the history of the forest. He, too, was fearful and refused to accept the estate. But at the end of Sir William’s life, he implored his own groundskeeper—the very same groundskeeper who helped design Lady Vivienne’s beautiful gardens—to convince James that Kellandale Manor and its immediate grounds would be safe to live near if the deep woods continued to be protected yet left alone. Eventually James was persuaded, which is how you have come to live here.

“Meanwhile, Sir William had shared with his groundskeeper the full truth of the goodness and magic of Kellandale Wood and asked him guard his secret and pass it down through the generations of his own family—my family—to keep the truth alive; he knew one day someone might need to know the true story.”

Elinora’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh, how very clever!” Tillie gushed. “So, Sir William knew the forest had powers, and that they were good powers. Yet to protect it and keep everyone out, he claimed the forest was haunted to scare them away?”

“Aye.”

And it was your family he shared this with?”

“Yes, indeed. ‘The forest will only reveal its true nature to those who care and understand,’ is what I was told as a child. No one in your family since Sir William’s time has dared go near the woods out of fear, and my family stayed away from it to respect his wishes. But I feel it is my duty to tell you the truth now because something unusual has happened—you have dared to enter the forest and have shown no fear; you pose no threat to it and have demonstrated only love and respect. I suspect perhaps the forest can sense this,” Abigail said, nodding toward Henry.

Tillie was shaking with delight; Elinora’s eyes were wide.

“Oh, your parents would not be happy if they knew what I have just told you.”

“They’re such big worriers,” Tillie moaned. “If they had it their way, we would forever be stuck inside and would never have found Henry. Who knows what would have become of him.”

“I don’t want to think about that,” Elinora said, brushing away the thought quickly.

“But you did find him. And I truly believe, as you do, that the woods are not dangerous. There is a reason you found Henry and are able to communicate with him; the forest allowed you to experience some of its powers, and that was no accident.”

“Can you hear him, Abigail?” Tillie asked. “I mean, can you hear Henry’s thoughts and feelings as we do?”

Abigail looked fondly at him. Henry lifted his head and looked at her with full awareness. Brief, fleeting images of him being comforted by Elinora and Tillie at the river’s edge entered her mind. “I believe I can,” she said. “I also sense he can communicate with whomever he wishes—and that he chooses to do so only with those he trusts.” She smiled.

“What are we to do then, if we’re not supposed to know what you told us?” Elinora asked. “And what do we do about Henry? We can’t tell Mother and Father what happened, that we can speak to him through our minds because of the magical woods, or where we found him.”

“I know your parents, and I know they won’t give you a hard time about keeping Henry,” Abigail replied. “But you’re absolutely right—you should keep the rest to yourselves. It’s an extremely delicate subject, and one that your parents have always been very nervous about.”

Tillie snorted.

“Tillie, dear, your parents can’t be told the truth about the forest, because in order to understand it, they must experience and discover it for themselves, just as you have. And that has always been up to them. Thus far they have been too afraid.” Henry looked into her eyes again and she winked back. “As for Henry, he knows not to let anyone else know of his abilities, at least not now. I don’t think your parents would accept this so readily as you have, and Jeppe, Sabine, and the others shouldn’t be under the pressure of knowing such matters as this, either.”

Henry wagged his tail in response, promising the secret of his empathic abilities would remain safe with the four of them.

“For now, he has found his way to you. You are the ones meant to hear him and help him. Just promise you will be careful.”

“Promise,” Elinora reassured her.

“I believe what we have here is a beautiful Morlish Wolfhound,” she added, coaxing Henry into the hall. “He will get much bigger and he will be a wonderful, faithful companion. Wolfhounds are among the most intelligent and loyal as they come. Now, we need to get you all upstairs. Give me a few minutes, then we will introduce Henry to your parents. I will let them know about the delivery man who came today—you know, the kind gentleman who brought me this poor puppy in need of a home.”

“Oh, Abigail, I knew you would know what to do!” Elinora exclaimed. “Come with us Henry, you need to rest,” she said.

He followed her and Tillie to her bedroom. Once there, Tillie closed the door and breathed in deeply.

Henry looked around the room and was surprised to see a lanky black cat sleeping on Elinora’s bed.

“Henry, this is Velvet,” Tillie introduced them. “She was once a stray, too. She stays inside now because she doesn’t like to wander far. And because she thinks it’s far cozier in here.”

Velvet let out a little welcoming chirp.

He nuzzled her with a wet nose then curled up on the lounge chair next to Elinora’s dressing table. He drifted into a deep, restful sleep.

Velvet stretched and moved next to him. She felt what he was feeling. They all did.

Love. Hope. Belonging.

“I can’t believe the day we’ve had. Or the day he’s had. What the heck in the world?” Tillie said, looking over at Henry.

“Rather dull, wasn’t it?” Elinora said, cracking a smile as she sat down at her dressing table.

“The worst.” Tillie grinned, then flopped onto Elinora’s bed. The sound woke Henry and he bounded over to her playfully.

Then came a knock. “It’s just me,” Abigail whispered through the closed door. “Hurry now, let’s introduce Henry to your parents, shall we?”

And so, the tales of Henry began.

Winter

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