Fairer Than Fae

The Black Forest

Eighteen Years Later

The young knight drove his horse through the twilight wood. The heaving sides of his steed were slick with sweat as he urged the animal to go faster. The knight had seen his first battle and had run from it as fast as he could. The twisted shadows of ancient trees curled around him, his sight inhibited by the visor on his helmet. An inhuman screech in the trembling green canopy overhead distracted him.

The horse cut a sharp corner, bringing them directly under a low hanging branch. The knight did not duck in time to miss it. The branch struck him across the throat, throwing him from the horse. His spooked steed continued it's mad dash through the dark forest without it's rider.

The knight lay on the spongy bed of moss where he had fallen, croaking out breaths through his throbbing neck. He struggled to sit up and tore the helmet from his head. Strands of white blond hair caked with sweat fell over his shoulders. He turned his face to the sky and breathed in deeply through his nose.

He had to calm himself. He had to think clearly. It was the only way he was going to get out of this now.

In his panic, he had ridden his horse directly into the Black Forest. Though the wood was known for it's dangers in every season, springtime was the bloodiest. The last touch of winter had only just retreated and summer was still months away. The chances of him seeing the dawn were slim. He had to act fast.

The knight rose to his feet and cast a wary glance at his surroundings, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. The faint violet light of sunset was almost gone, clouds stretching over the stars and moon peeking out of the east.

Monstrous spiders infested this wood in the spring, spinning webs big enough to trap a man. There were packs of fanged dogs, black as midnight and hunting for human flesh. Ghosts roamed the hollows. All manner of poisonous fruit that appeared palatable grew temptingly at eye level.

And there were also the Fae. Ancient, heartless and blindingly beautiful. The greatest enemy of King Layre, the ruler of the Kingdom of Coelyn.

His kingdom had been waging a war against the Fair Folk for the last twenty five years. King Layre with his valiant son Gebhardt, the Iron Prince himself, had spent countless seasons fighting against the race of folk who had murdered so many mortals. Layre's armies had cut down sacred groves, burned the ruined temples of generations past, and even engaged them in combat.

The young knight had been so proud as he had ridden out of the capital city, one of a company led by Prince Gebhardt. A legion of Fae Huntsmen had been spotted on the border of the Black Forest, the shadowy horsemen that were seen only in the autumn when the sharp toothed Fae queen of that season led the Wild Hunt. The Huntsmen were weakest at the end of winter after a season of starvation. It seemed all would be well for the knights of Coelyn.

But then a herd of Kelpies with razor teeth and throbbing muscles drove through the company of knights just as the Huntsmen were losing their footing. The Kelpies let loose their screeches, manes slick as water weed and eyes red as firebeds. The devilish horses scattered the troop of knights, the youngest of them losing himself in the depths of the wood.

The young knight was only nineteen. This was his first true taste of battle. And he had failed. He heaved another breath and scrubbed a hand over his mouth. He would face the shame of his defeat and desertion later. Now he had to get out of there alive.

Amid the eerie rustling in the wood, an odd sound caught the knight's attention. The chirp of insects, hoots of owls and frantic flap of bat wings filled the budding trees overhead. And again, the sound came to him.

It was a sob, a woman weeping.

Of course, he had heard many tales of Fae wives who murdered their mortal lovers or kept them entranced till they were grey and bent after spending only one night with them. King Layre claimed he had nearly fell prey to such a poisonous vixen in that very wood.