Wylt: Book One The Blood Lake Chronicles Read online

  “I’ve eaten a lot of sandwiches in a lot of different countries. The competition is very high,” Balthasar replied as she dug about in the fridge for the leftover lamb roast.

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” she said and continued to tell him about London, all the bad kitchen jobs she had worked in and the best food she had tasted. It did not take her long to forget whom it was she was talking to and only managed to stop once she had placed the made sandwich in front of him. “Voila!”

  “Are you going to tell me what is on it?” he asked.

  “In simplest terms, it’s a warm roasted lamb club, but the rest is a secret,” she said smiling as he tried it, his face changing from mocking skepticism to delight. “Yeah that’s what I thought, Mr. I’ve Eaten So Many Sandwiches.”

  “Consider me put in my place. I forget how much I like food sometimes,” he said vaguely as he looked down at the sandwich.

  “That in your hand, Mr. Vane, is the summation of what I have learned at the fine culinary school your dad’s money paid for.”

  “I will assure him that it was worth every penny.”

  Rosa spent another half an hour talking comfortably with Balthasar before wrapping up the remains of the still warm bread.

  “Right, now I definitely think it’s time for bed,” she said, picking up her wooden spoon.

  “Put that down. You won’t need it,” Balthasar said as he walked outside and let out a low whistle.

  “Are you sure that’s a dog, not a dire wolf?” Rosa asked as a huge animal came crashing out of the dark forest.

  “He is a special breed of wolf hybrid,” Balthasar answered as the beast sat down beside him and glared at her with yellow eyes. “He won’t bother you, though I don’t suggest wandering off. Thank you for the sandwich and your company tonight, Miss Wylt.”

  “You’re welcome. You can call me Rosa, you know…if you want. And you should try to get some sleep. Big day of important business type stuff with Eli tomorrow,” she said before turning and heading for the cottage before he spotted how red her cheeks had gone.

  ***

  Balthasar watched Rosa disappear into the darkness before he looked down at the animal beside him. “Follow her, Caruthers, and make sure the other dogs don’t bother her.” The beast nodded his great gray head before trotting silently after her.

  Balthasar stood in the cold and wind a moment longer before shaking his head, “Don’t even consider it, Balthasar. Only trouble and heartache could come of it.”

  Chapter Six – The Story Book

  Rosa could feel his hands running along her skin, hot from the sunshine above them. Sunlight flickered off the lake, sending bright spots glimmering on Balthasar’s dark hair. The trees above them rustled in the warm summer wind. Dark, sincere eyes hovered above her before he bent down to kiss her neck and collarbone. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his cheekbones, his lips forming soft words of love and devotion before they were on hers; hot, moist, and all consuming…

  Rosa woke with a cry of alarm, fumbling about in the dark to turn on her lamp. The details of her dream came flooding back to her, and she hid her face in shame.

  Rosa knew she shouldn’t have hung around to talk to the current Balthasar the previous night but after seeing the portrait of his ancestor, and how lonely and frustrated he had looked when he came into the stables, she hadn’t been able to ignore him.

  After her baking session in the kitchen, she had tried searching on her phone internet for anything on the Vane family history. She desperately wanted to know if Jane and Balthasar Senior had ever gotten married. The strange thing was the Vanes. For all their long line of rich aristocracy, they barely had a digital footprint at all. There weren’t even listings of businesses they owned, and she lacked the skill to know where to dig.

  Rosa couldn’t find anything in a public forum, but she knew they had a monstrous library up in the mansion. Surely, there was an old family Bible or something that would speak of the couple’s fate. Getting dressed, she cut across the grounds, purposely avoided the kitchen door and went around the back of the house to use the underground carpark entrance.

  Fluorescent sensor lights flickered on as she strode past the beautiful shining cars, being extra careful not to brush up against any of them accidentally.

  The visitors’ parking bay was damp unlike everywhere else, the chemical smell of strong bleach almost overpowering her as she walked over the concrete space. She hummed the Bond theme music as she stepped into the elevator thinking that she was quite clever to sneak past everyone. Her feelings of triumph were dashed as the doors opened widely to reveal Balthasar flicking through the calendar on his phone. He looked up with a surprised smile.

  Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t think about warm midnight conversation and the dream you had after, you are meant to be sneaking about the garage, everything is fine.

  “Morning!” she said, far too brightly.

  “Miss Wylt,” he replied calmly as he put his phone into his breast pocket, “should I even ask what you are up to?”

  “Probably best if you didn’t,” Rosa said stepping passed him, his aftershave far too pleasant. He smiled in a way that said quite plainly he knew she was up to something she shouldn’t be.

  She whispered conspiratorially, “I’m avoiding Cecily but don’t tell anyone.”

  “I see. Then let me suggest that you avoid the second-floor dining room on your…adventures.” The doors shut as she started to thank him. She stared at the metal doors blankly for a few moments before giving herself a shake. Balthasar equals off limits, she prompted herself before focusing back on the task at hand.

  Rosa hurried up the main staircase and headed for the far end of the second floor. She could hear Eli talking on the phone in his office as she silently padded down the rich Persian carpet runners to a set of double doors. They opened easily, and after looking about to make sure nobody was watching, she ducked inside.

  She had loved the library when she was a child. The entire western wall, as well as a good part of the roof, was made of tall glass panels to let in natural light. The library had rows of tall bookshelves made of carved walnut and oak wood, wrought iron staircases and ladders on rails to reach the higher shelves. Rosa had foolishly thought that all libraries in the world looked like the one at Gwaed Lyn, so it had been an awful shock to find the cold steel, florescent-lit atrocities with their hard plastic chairs and laminate desk in the boarding schools she had been forced to attend.

  Being back in the library with its deep leather antique chairs and warm lamps made her feel more at home than the cottage did. The cottage had changed. The warmth that her parents had put into it to make it a home was gone. The library was exactly the way her child mind remembered it. Rosa walked up the twisted metal staircase to the higher levels and let herself get reacquainted.

  Portraits of writers and philosophers hung on the walls between the shelves. She had forgotten about the paintings depicting scenes from ancient myths and legends. Theseus and the Minotaur, Odin fighting Fenrir, and King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone.

  Her favorite portrait when she was a girl had been of the fierce Celtic Queen Boudicca who had fought against the Romans. She was painted in heavy oils on a black canvas, looking more ferocious than any general with her blue woad-stained arms, wild red hair and triumphant grin. She held a spear in one hand, a pile of heads at her feet. Being an impressionable only child, Rosa had wanted to grow up being Boudicca more than anything in the world. On her walks with Harold, she had swiped at reeds and fat toadstools with her stick sword, smiting her invisible enemies.

  “Lookin’ good, B,” Rosa said out loud, feeling more connected to that little girl than she had in years.

  Rosa kept roaming, small remembrances flooding back to her. She walked through a small iron gate to where the old leather books were kept. Keen bright memories of beautiful pictures on old pages flickered through her mind. Rosa studied the shelves looking for the intr
icate crisscrossing leather binding. It had been a book that she had loved filled with brightly gilded illustrations.

  “There you are!” she exclaimed happily and took the thick book down. She didn’t remember it being so old. The cover was made of green, blue and brown leather, stamped with interlocking Celtic knot designs. Sitting on the polished wooden floor, she placed the heavy book down in front of her. She opened the cover gently and started flicking through it, running her fingers over the thick paper pages.

  What she hadn’t remembered was that it was a book of Celtic fairy tales. The illustrations had been crafted in the same style as the illuminated manuscripts of medieval Bibles. When she was eight, she had found the pictures beautiful with the characters’ long, expressive faces. As an adult, they were still gorgeous, but the illustrations themselves were disturbing. One picture was of a woman, a queen, on a bed of red and purple coverings. Even in the style of the time, the figure was openly suggestive, sensual and alluring.

  There were scenes of violence, of three characters tied up and being beaten and another of a dead king. The script of the book was written in a Late Middle English, the romantic language of Chaucer. Rosa had loved studying medieval languages and tales of chivalry at university. She fumbled over the first few passages, her mind trying to rearrange itself to the complex rhythms.

  “The three brothers, Bleddyn, Trahaearn and Gwaen…were not grown. Their kingdom fell to the…Seelie armies,” she read aloud slowly, “Cool!”

  A small voice in her mind prompted her that she should go and check in with Cecily. She’d forgotten all about family Bibles and finding Jane, instead, her mind was filling up with violent, epic sagas she had never read about in the Mabinogion or anywhere else. I am sure Eli won’t mind you borrowing one book, she convinced herself as she carefully tucked the book under her arm. Eli was the one that wanted her to come back, and to see Gwaed Lyn as a home. Well, in a home you were supposed to share.

  Rosa was walking down the steps when Balthasar entered the library. She tried desperately not to think of him in his dressing gown and the easy conversation that she had spent most of the night thinking about. Or the sex dream. Especially the sex dream.

  “Here she is again,” Balthasar said watching her make her way down the iron steps. “You sneaked through the back door so you could come and hide in the library?”

  “I wouldn’t say I was sneaking or hiding as such,” Rosa replied as she joined him.

  He looked at the book in her hand, “Are you stealing a book?”

  “I’m borrowing a book. You can hardly miss one in all of this,” Rosa defended. “Besides, I was going to ask Eli first.” Liar, liar.

  “Ask me what, Rosa?” Eli inquired as he entered the room, his green eyes shining.

  “Only if I could borrow a book. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but Balthasar seems to think I’m some master thief.”

  “I wouldn’t say a master,” came his dry reply.

  “Balthasar, for pity’s sake, Rosa can take whatever book she likes, providing she returns it,” Eli said smiling fondly at her. “What are you choosing?”

  Rosa showed him, “Just some old fairy tales.”

  “Very old ones. Let me know how you like them.”

  “It’s an interesting choice. Can you even read Middle English?” asked Balthasar.

  “Can’t you?” she replied sweetly. “I will give you a full review once I’m done, Eli.”

  “I would like that, Rosa.” Eli was still smiling, but she knew she was being dismissed. She returned his smile before turning to his son. “Balthasar.” He frowned at her as she turned on her heel and strode confidently from the room.

  ***

  “Are you sure that was wise?” Balthasar asked once Rosa was gone. She was the most unpredictable girl he had met in a long time. He liked her despite the lectures he had given himself the night before.

  “What harm can it do? Relax Bal,” Eli said before adding. “She always loved the pictures, even the violent ones that she didn’t understand. She reminds me a lot of another Wylt I knew long ago. He had the same mischievous look in his eyes.”

  “What if she recognizes you?”

  “I hardly look like the young Unseelie prince anymore. Don’t concern yourself with Rosa. She’s bound to know the truth one day, all the Wylts do. Let her enjoy the illusion of normality for a little while longer.”

  “I’m starting to regret not being here when she was young, the way you talk about her…I can’t imagine you letting a little girl terrorize you so much.”

  “She was an odd, wild thing with old eyes. I suppose she still is. You seem to be warming to her, though if you keep teasing her, I’m sure you’ll live to regret it.”

  “She certainly is different. I thought that growing up in institutions would have made her sullen, but she is quite friendly,” Balthasar said before adding, “and I’ve hardly teased her at all.”

  “If you say so, son. The Wylts have remarkable abilities when it comes to adaptation.”

  “I wonder how well she will adapt once she learns the truth.” Or how friendly she will stay.

  “Rosa will accept us. She did when she was a girl so there is no reason why she wouldn’t now.”

  ***

  Rosa thought about the book to pass the time as she cleaned rooms, made up spare beds and wiped dusty bathrooms. She let the three Js gossip away garnering how they had all been on the receiving end of Pearl’s sharp tongue, Julie who had enjoyed Saul’s tongue the night before and how all three wondered what Balthasar’s tongue would be like. By noon, Rosa was so exhausted by their giggling chatter that she used the Wylt keys to open the door to the North West tower and let herself out onto the roof access. It was a cold day, but it had stopped raining long enough to let bright sunshine through. She leaned against the battlements and looked out over the grounds, the wind battering away all the crowding voices in her mind.

  On the other side of the stretch of forest, the sun reflected bright diamonds on the lake’s choppy surface. Maybe staying for a while won’t be so bad after all. Where else would you get a view like this?

  She turned to the east and saw someone standing on the roof of the tower. She couldn’t make out a clear face, but it was a woman with long, loose black hair. She was wearing a white dress that looked far too thin for the weather. Rosa waved at her, two people sharing the same hiding spot, but the woman didn’t return the greeting.

  “Great…another friendly sort,” said Rosa. When she looked at her again, the woman was gone. A thrill of fear went through her before the laughed loudly at herself. You are far too old to believe in ghosts, Rosamund Wylt.

  Nevertheless, she lingered only a moment more before heading back inside.

  That night, as the storm and wind raged outside, Rosa made a pot of tea and sat down at the kitchen table. She had a notebook and pen with her, both a little floury and stained from writing recipe ideas. Digging through her suitcases, she had found an old Middle English dictionary from University and her copy of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight that had helpful appendixes in the back. She needed to give Balthasar and Jane’s letters a break, the younger Balthasar’s presence making her feel uncomfortable for reasons she couldn’t exactly identify. Couldn’t be that he’s smoking hot with all that Lord of the Manor haughtiness going on. Nope, nothing to do with it.

  Cradling a cup of hot tea, Rosa blocked all thoughts of both Balthasar Vanes and opened her borrowed book, letting herself get lost in the story.

  ***

  During the beginning of the world, the Great Creator God of the Aos Si fashioned night with a moon and stars to brighten the dark sky, forming the Guardians of the Night and naming them the Unseelie. All things must balance, so Day was created, and the sun was born with a brightness and warmth to illuminate and nourish all of the Aos Si, and the Guardians of the Light were called Seelie. In Day, the Creator also crafted shade, dark places that could hold the balance.

  It was foreto
ld the world would move in four great seasons and that the rule of these seasons would fall to the Guardians accordingly. Summer would be ruled by the warm light of the Seelie, and the dark, cold winter would be ruled by the Unseelie. During the time of the autumn, the Seelie would slowly relinquish its power to the rule of the Unseelie, just as with the coming of the spring the Unseelie would relinquish its power back to the Seelie. This was the Great Accord, and during the First Cycle of Summer the Seelie thrived becoming stronger, more beautiful and their magic powerful. But with power also came corruption, and as the summer began to wane the Seelie Court started to despair at the weakening of their magic. It was not long before their voices were shouting their distrust and discontentment at having to relinquish their rule to their Unseelie brethren.

  Autumn began to move through the lands, the green that the Seelie cherished so dearly began to turn to gold, red and brown. Furious that the Unseelie were taking their power a great war ensued breaking the land and soaking it in the blood of both sides of the Fae.

  In the final days of the Last Battle, with both sides nearing extinction, the Seelie Queen created a spell that would have the power to hold the remaining power in her court forever. She convinced her King to hold a court with the Unseelie with the promise of a peaceful discussion to try and come to a new accord. Then, as the two kings sat down together, the Queen of the Seelie took her husband’s sword and slew them.

  The Queen knew that all things must be balanced and mixing the power of the two kings, she cast her curse over all of the Aos Si. The seasons within the lands would move no longer, sealing it into an eternal autumn, making it so she would never have to relinquish her power to Unseelie kind.

  The Unseelie King was survived by three sons; Bleddyn the eldest and the heir to the title of Seren Du, the Black Star, Trahaearn and Gwaen. Taken by the Seelie, they were made hostage slaves to the Autumn Queen. Unlike the other Unseelie kindred, the princes were fair to look upon, and as they grew their pale white skin, soft black hair and bright eyes became admired by the court and the Autumn Queen.