Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection (2 page)

“I’ve heard none,” he said.

“Have you listened?”

He hadn’t. He’d been too busy with his own
thoughts to hear others.

Faith ran a tender hand along his cheek and
he near groaned with the pleasure it brought.

“Worry not,” she said. “Tongues have just
recently been wagging and it is with whispered breathes they
speak.”

“They gossip but want no one hearing?” he
asked perplexed.

“It is what they whisper about that they
fear. It is what keeps them coming back to me and more recently
asking for anything that will protect them.”

“Protect them from what?”

She rested her hand to his chest and
whispered, “The hobgoblin.”

Eric was struck silent for a moment. He had
heard stories of hobgoblins and how mischievous and devilish they
could be, but he never truly believed in them. He thought them
conjured by fear when no doubt there was a reasonable
explanation.

“The people truly believe a hobgoblin lurks
on the land?”

Faith nodded. “They do and the thought makes
them more fearful by the day and with all the incidents, I must say
that something lurks on our land and it is not friendly.”

Eric knew then and there he had no choice. If
he wanted to have free, undisturbed time to make love to his wife
he had only one choice... he had to capture the hobgoblin.

~~~

Eric kissed his wife Faith, a prelude of what
was to come tonight when he made love to her. He wanted to remind
her of what she was missing even though she had admitted as much;
he wanted to leave her with a stronger reminder.

He, of course, had missed the taste of her as
well and so he lingered in the thirsty kiss that satisfied but
didn’t quite fully quench his thirst, or Faith’s. It was obvious
they both wanted more, their bodies demanded it, drifting ever
closer until they looked as if they would meld together. And he
certainly wanted to meld.

Eric stopped the kiss, though he would have
much preferred to linger in it. That however would be too
dangerous, for he would want more than a kiss from Faith; he would
want all of her. And at the moment he had to catch an insufferable
hobgoblin that had put the fear in the hearts of his people and had
kept him and his wife apart.

Whoever the hobgoblin was he intended to see
him suffer for his misdeeds.

“I’ll take care of this posthaste,” he said
his arms slipping from around her and his hands going to rest at
her waist. “I’ll have the culprit who has caused so much unrest
caught and punished before nightfall. Then you will be all
mine.”

“Gossip has it that no hobgoblin has ever
been caught,” she said quite seriously.

“Do you doubt my ability to protect you and
my people?”

“Never,” she said. “I have seen you best the
biggest of men and fight against enormous odds and always emerge
the victor. But this—this is not like anything you have ever gone
up against. The hobgoblin is of the Other World and from what I
have heard and seen of the wounds, does not fight fairly.”

“I have not always done the same myself,” he
said.

“You will not go alone,” she instructed
sternly.

“My wife commands me?” he said on a
laugh.

She gave him a playful jab. “I will not see
the hobgoblin get you.”

“He taunts, teases and puts fear in people,”
Eric reminded. “He has yet to do more serious damage.”

“But you don’t know if—”

“I know that if he is not caught I will never
get my wife back into my bed. And that bed has been far too cold
and lonely without you. Besides how can I allow my wife to forage
for her precious healing plants if a hobgoblin runs loose in the
woods?”

Faith took a quick step away from him and
walked over to the fireplace stirring the contents of the big black
cauldron that hung from the iron rod over the flames.

“Faith?” he questioned walking over to her.
When she failed to turn around, he slipped his arm around her waist
and turned her gently to face him. “What do you keep from me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. I thought it was
nothing and then so many villagers began showing up on my
doorstep.”

His heart began to pound in his chest and
anger bubbled up from deep inside him. “Tell me.”

She attempted to roll the sleeve of her blue
linen blouse up along her arm but her hand trembled making the task
difficult. Eric brushed her hand aside and continued and what was
revealed filled him with raging anger.

He rested her arm in one hand while the other
brushed gentle fingers over the deep red welts that ran from just
past her wrist to her elbow. Someone or something had viciously
scratched her leaving her lovely flesh marred.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were
attacked?”

“I wasn’t sure I had been; it happened so
fast. I thought it an accident, that I tripped and my arm suffered
from the fall. And even after tending a few villagers with similar
wounds I didn’t connect my incident. They had talked of seeing a
shadow, where I saw nothing. It was only recently I began to think
that I had been one of the many who had suffered at the hands of
the hobgoblin.”

Eric rested his hand to her cheek, warm and
tinged red from the heat of the hearth. “I am going to kill him for
what he has done to you.”

Faith smiled and turned her face into his
hand to kiss his palm. “I appreciate your gallantry, but such a
harsh punishment does not fit his crime. And I think all would
prefer that you send him back where he belongs with a stern warning
never to return here.”

“When I finish with him he will never want to
leave the Other World.”

Faith drifted into his arms once again. “You
will take someone with you?”

“I have told you not to worry over me,” he
said as if it were a command.

“It does you no good to instruct me such for
you know full well I will pay it no heed. I love you and I worry
over you and that is the way it will always be. Now tell me you
will take someone with you.”

To settle her concern he said, “I’ll take
Rook.”

The big ugly dog dozing by the hearth raised
his head and yawned.

Faith shook her head. “He will not go with
you. He hasn’t gone back into the woods since the day it happened.
And you know how he loves to explore on his own at times.”

Eric shook his head. “Rook was with you and
didn’t attack whatever this thing was?”

“No, he cowered beside me and shook. I
thought he was upset over my incident.”

Eric was not happy with the dog’s cowardly
actions. Even though Rook was known to be spineless at times, he
had always protected Faith with his life. What had caused the
animal to fail to protect Faith?

“This hobgoblin will be no more by day’s
end,” Eric said and gave Faith a quick kiss then walked to the
door.

“Be careful,’ she called after him.

“It is the hobgoblin you should be worried
for, not me.” And with that he was out the door striding past ill
villagers who had gathered on the benches once more.

Eric stopped at the keep to see his son and
inform Borg of his intention and wasn’t surprised that he offered
to accompany him. Borg believed strongly in the Other World whereas
Eric believed in what he could see, and if something could attack
and leave scratches then that something could be caught.

He declined Borg’s offer though his warning
was clear.

“Take no chances with a hobgoblin. They are
mean and troublesome.”

Eric gave his son a hug and a kiss, the
little fellow throwing his tiny arms around his father’s neck and
hugging tight. That he was Eric’s son could not be denied, he was
the exact image of him. He left the two playing with the wooden
animals Borg had carved for Ryan.

The villagers nodded knowingly as he stomped
his way through the village to the woods, his intentions clear.
Besides, word had already spread that the Irish Devil was going
after the hobgoblin and it seemed that everyone heartily
approved.

With the skies gray, no sun to penetrate the
thick woods, it was dark. Not as dark as when night settles over
the land but dark enough to make one pause and watch one’s
footings. Eric did both as he made his way around trees and avoided
large fallen branches.

He never entered battle without a clear plan,
which was why he so often saw victory rather than defeat. This time
however he had a good reason for proceeding without a plan—he’d be
damned if he’d let a hobgoblin keep him from a night of love with
his wife.

Though now here, he began to think on what to
do next. If his people were avoiding the woods then perhaps the
hobgoblin had grown bored with no diversion and would be looking
for a target to torment. If he simply meandered along not paying
any heed, though keeping aware, the insufferable creature would
show himself and he could be done with this.

His warrior side warned not to be in a hurry,
to remain ever cautious and watch for shadows that moved too
quickly. And to keep his mind focused and off his wife, though that
wasn’t easy.

Her scent was on him, on his shirt where she
had rested her head to his chest, on his palm she had softly kissed
and on his forearms, his shirt sleeves rolled up when he had
wrapped his arms around her. It was pungent and sweet and more
enticing than he remembered. And it made him ache for her all the
more.

He smiled picking up the delicious scent of
honey bread she often made and so generously shared with those who
needed tending. He sometimes wondered if illnesses were concocted
just so the honey bread could be enjoyed. But regardless Faith
welcomed them all and it had endeared her to all.

A crack of a branch brought Eric out of his
musings and his hand went to the hilt of his sword that hung at his
side. He saw only shadows, though in them he knew the hobgoblin
could lurk. So he kept a steady eye on everything around him.
Whether it was the shadow of a tree swaying in the wind, an animal
busy in preparation of the coming winter or simply life in the
woods, he kept aware. He never allowed a trick of the eye to fail
to keep him from spotting the obvious or that which was hidden. The
hobgoblin would not get passed him. He would fell the creature and
be done with, sending him home where he belonged and then... then
he would finally have his wife to himself.

The attack came so swiftly that it took Eric
a moment to realize that he had been hit. And when he did and was
about to retaliate, he was hit again so hard that the blow felled
him to the ground.

Stunned by the second attack he lay on the
ground furious that he had failed to see the creature’s approach.
He cast a cautious though hasty glance around and that is when he
caught sight... of the hobgoblin.

~~~

The Irish Devil stormed through the village,
nostrils flaring and his eyes filled with fiery anger. When he
didn’t find Faith in her healing cottage his frustration mounted
and his strides hastened. The villagers were quick to retreat from
his sight and fearful of what they saw. Not only was the Irish
Devil angry beyond measure, he also bore the marks of the
hobgoblin.

Eric stopped abruptly in the middle of the
village and called out, “Listen all and listen well.”

The villagers reluctantly paid heed and
gathered closer to their chieftain.

Eric raised his bloody arms. “You all see
that I met the hobgoblin. The creature has yet to be sent home to
the Other World, but I promise you that before this day ends he
will be no more, for I will see him dead!”

Gasps filled the air. No one ever killed a
creature from the Other World. It just wasn’t possible and it
wasn’t wise. They were too powerful, but then an Other World
creature had never come up against the Irish Devil.

Eric left the villagers mumbling amongst
themselves, though left little doubt that his words rang true as he
hurried to find his wife.

He burst into the keep and his glance fell on
Faith the same moment her eyes met his. In seconds she handed over
their sleeping son to Borg and hurried to him. He was near on top
of her by the time she took only a few steps.

“You’re hurt,” she said and took his hand.
“Come and sit so I may tend your wounds.”

He loved the feel of her hand in his, it not
only comforted it reminded him of intimate touches that of late he
ached for and ached to return. Her skin was velvet soft and the
concern in her eyes reminded him just how much she loved him. He
had known little of love until he had met Faith. He had tasted of
it briefly, but once he had met her and had the full flavor of it,
he hungered for more and she had willingly given it to him. She
forever quenched his thirst and he could not see life without
her.

“I told you not to go alone,” Faith scolded
with gentleness.

“And I paid no heed, for I am a warrior—”

“And was attacked for your stubbornness,” she
admonished, already busy at work on his wounds.

Eric didn’t argue. He enjoyed her gentle and
caring touch and wanted to linger in the pleasure it brought
him.

“Tell us what happened,” Borg said keeping
Eric’s sleeping son tucked safely in the crook of his arm.

“I saw the hobgoblin,” Eric said as he
finally sat.

The room went silent except for a low whine
from Rook who put his head down and his paw over it.

“Hobgoblins are not meant to be seen,” Borg
said.

“I can understand why,” Eric said. “Wild hair
that stuck out in points from his head, small and wiry in size,
large eyes that glowed green and he was made of dirt, a creature of
the earth.”

Faith stopped cleansing his wounds with the
wet cloth. “This is not good, stubborn husband of mine.”

Eric grinned. She was even more beautiful
when she got angry, not that she got angry often. She would raise
her soft voice, though truthfully the difference was barely
detectable, and her cheeks would flush, like now, as if the heat
from the hearth had singed them. Then she would say her piece, he
would smile then kiss her and then they would...