An Arranged Marriage - 19

     The forest was damp and cool.  Detlef guided his horse through the maze of trees.  It was not his first time here, but the last time had been, oh, so long ago.

     The sun was high but a chill still hung in the air.  It had been over an hour since Detlef heard any of the other men.

     The land dipped down, and Detlef rode into a gorge.  He looked around, half-hoping to see his horse tree – the one that he…

     And there it was.

     A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he surveyed the bent tree.  He could almost see himself as a little boy, straddling the sway of the trunk like a saddle.  “Look, Timothy,” he murmured.  “This was my first horse.” He pressed his leg against Timothy’s side until his horse stood next to the bent tree.  Detlef leaned over and patted the tree.  “I named it Hartlin.”  He looked up and down the trunk fondly.  “And it was here that THEY found me.”

     He remembered it like it was yesterday.  One day, for some reason, Ilona could not come down to play so little Detlef ran away to the forest.  He explored until he found the swaybacked tree.  For an hour, he amused himself with imaginary adventures atop the tree-horse.  And then he saw THEM.  The Derwald people.

     Detlef could still remember their dark skin and green leggings.  But they were friendly – he remembered the honesty in their eyes -- and he followed them without hesitation.  They took him to a wonderful place with lots of children and a banquet of food.  He stayed overnight and part of the next day.  Then the forest people carried him out of the forest, leaving him on the road in sight of the castle.  And he had never seen them again.

     Detlef pressed his leg against Timothy’s side and guided him through the gorge.  He searched for a landmark – like a willow tree that haunted his memory - that would guide him back to the Derwald people.  In finding them, he would find Ilona.

      But no clues presented themselves to Detlef.  He found an easy slope out of the gorge and urged Timothy upward.  Barely had he reached the top and surveyed the continuing forest before him, than he heard a cry.  A moment passed and it was repeated – this time sounding more like a scream.  Detlef pressed Timothy into a trot, pursuing the sound.  He had not gone far when the undergrowth became too dense for the horse.  Detlef swung to the ground, continuing to search for the person in distress.

     The forest around him grew silent.  Detlef wound his way through the underbrush.  Hearing a whimper, he turned his head and saw her.  A little girl with long black hair and tea-stained skin crouched with her back pressed against the base of a tree, terror in her eyes.  Trees blocked Detlef’s full view.  He moved until he caught sight of a wolf-like creature that had cornered the girl.  Foam dripped from its mouth and its eyes rolled wildly from side to side.  It stalked stiff-legged closer and closer to the girl.  One leap and he would be on her.  Detlef whipped an arrow from his quiver, smacked it on his bow, and fired.

     Zing! Thump! The shot was true and the animal fell dead.  The little girl stared at the slain foe and then lifted her eyes to search for her rescuer.  Her eyes fell on Detlef.  For a moment they watched each other.  Then the girl ran away, disappearing into the dense underbrush like a rabbit.

     Detlef made his way to the animal’s side, shifting the beast with his foot.  “Sorry, old dog,” he murmured.  There were unmistakable signs of madness – the animal had lost all reason to some terrible sickness.  Detlef sighed.  It needed to be burned.  He whistled to Timothy and started gathering firewood.

     By the time Detlef had built a blaze, Timothy had found a roundabout way to reach him.  Detlef squatted by the fire, his horse grazing nearby, and thought about the little dark-skinned girl.  Was she one of the forest people?

     As the fire died down, leaving nothing but ashes where the mad wolf had been, Timothy grew restless.  Detlef stomped the last flickers out of the fire, smoke swirling around him. 

     Timothy squealed.  Waving smoke from his eyes, Detlef looked up to see a man standing by a tree, his bow drawn.  He wore a red cap, green tunic, and leather breeches.

     Detlef threw his hands up.  “I mean you no harm.”

     “You will come with me to the town of Lidanah.” The red-capped man aimed his weapon at Detlef.

     “I’m afraid I don’t have time for that.  I am on an urgent mission to find the missing princess.  I could use your help.”

     “We are friends of the princess.  Would you be willing to testify against an innocent man in order to spare your life?”  As the red-capped man spoke, seven more men stepped into sight with their bows drawn, surrounding Detlef.

     Detlef squared his jaw.  “No, I would not.”

     “Excellent choice.  You will come with us.”  The red-capped man lowered his bow and strode into the forest, his steps soft and sure. 

     Detlef hesitated and then followed.