Crows - Part 3
A short story
He followed the wolf through the strange forest for some time. He couldn’t tell how long. He noticed that some of the trees were bare of leaves whilst others were laden with fruit. Here and there lay patches of snow that should surely have melted in the warm air.
The wolf stayed some way ahead of him. It could undoubtedly outrun him if it wanted, but it seemed not to want to. He wondered once again whether he was following or being led.
Along the way he occasionally passed a statue. Some were laid down, with their eyes shut, looking like a recumbent tomb effigy. Others were stood upright and, though their expressions were hard to read, looked by their posture to be in various states of agitation or confusion.
He arrived in a small clearing, in the centre of which was another statue. This one was a woman lying on her back atop a stone dais. The statue was free of the moss that covered the others and around her were flowers and lit candles. On the woman’s head was a crown. The whole tableau seemed like a well preserved grave.
A movement caught his eye and he looked up to see the wolf walking through the trees at the far side of the clearing. It passed behind a particularly large trunk and from the other side appeared the woman in black. He drew his sword and wielded it menacingly.
“Please,” said the woman calmly, “you should not draw that here.”
“It is no more than you deserve for what you did to my family.”
“It is not with me that you have quarrel. I beg you, sheath your weapon and we may talk.” The woman did not seem fearful of the man’s weapon but there was an urgency in her voice, though the man was oblivious to it.
“You killed them. I saw—”
“You only saw that I could not save them from him.”
“Save them from who?”
There was a sudden cackle of cawing some distance behind him.
“Oh no,” said the woman in a small voice.
He turned to see a swirling mass of crows. From the centre of which came a thick cloud of grey mist which grew until the crows were enveloped. Then from the mist strode the tall, imposing figure of a man. He was dressed in a surcoat that was fine in style but made of a strangely plain grey colour and upon his head was a crown. The impression was unmistakably that of a king and though the king’s expression was one of sorrow, his appearance struck fear into the man’s heart.
The man turned back to the woman but instead found the wolf, which turned and ran. He briefly considered his options and then fled, following the wolf.