Chapter 4: The Black Fox
The Mystical Forest, Skipton, Yorkshire, England, 1545.
The forest has its own energy; the trees, plants, streams, creatures and weather all play their part in a timeless dance that’s existed for thousands of years. Each knows their part and accept their role willingly. When something upsets the delicate balance of the forest, the forest usually deals with it. This leads our story to the Witch.
The Baron of Skipton Castle was a kind man, but he suffered from acute chest pains. As he aged, the pains became sharper and occurred with more frequency. The Baron had one Son, whom he doted on and adored. As a young boy, he impressed his Father with his maturity, patience and understanding. He was the ideal son. Growing up in the Castle, he'd spend most of his time playing with two girls of his age. They were like Sisters to him, but they were actually daughters of two prominent families. After some political maneuvering, each family hoped a bond would form, leading to a marriage that would strengthen family accords. This would create a powerful land empire and entwine the families’ power.
Claire was always the outspoken one. She was fun, witty and possessed the most beautiful deep blue eyes. Claire was a small girl, with long braided blonde hair and a large welcoming smile. Gwyneth was shy, intelligent and thoughtful. She was always pleasant and well mannered. Gwyneth had a long elegant neck and a narrow face, framed with straight auburn hair. She was calm with simple, plain looks. Gareth spent time with both girls, but it was obvious that he favored Claire. Claire was intensely jealous of Gwyneth. Fighting to gain more of Gareth’s attention, Claire would be mean towards Gwyneth. Gwyneth often withdrew, deferring to Claire.
Gareth’s parents watched the three children play; they suspected Gareth would choose Claire as his bride one day. As they entered the matching age, Claire and Gareth grew closer, laughing, walking and sharing their hopes and dreams. Gareth had grown into a strapping young man. He’d inherited his Father’s looks and muscular frame. Claire had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, but she wielded a wicked temper. Claire would shout at the servants and once scolded a young servant girl, splashing her with boiling water.
Gwyneth remained at the Castle; she'd spend time on her own and learn skills from her matrons. She'd gained proficiency in sewing but more important, she would sit and listen to the older women talk. As time passed, she would learn how to be diplomatic and communicate in a thoughtful way. She'd observed the power of language and was no longer a timid, scared, little girl. Gwyneth had blossomed into a woman. No longer the shy, plain looking girl; she’d grown into a beautiful, elegant, confident, woman. Gwyneth was funny, smart, refined and witty. Gareth started to pay more attention to Gwyneth; he noticed her stunning green eyes, soft features and sharp mind.
Gareth liked what he saw; Gwyneth was beautiful. In comparison, Claire was still a young girl; she wielded a wicked temper and a mean, distasteful side. Gareth arranged to spend more time with Gwyneth and Claire became incensed. Her jealousy raised its ugly head like a thunderous cloud, consuming her. Claire shouted, threw objects at the servants and demanded a chance to speak with Gareth. Gareth obliged and told Claire the truth. They'd slowly grown apart, and to make matters worse, he’d fallen in love with Gwyneth. Claire was furious, she felt betrayed. How could this have happened? She’d been convinced they were to be joined. She'd watched these glorious events unfold numerous times within her mind. She'd imagined it so many times that, to her, it was already true.
To Claire, Gwyneth was unworthy of Gareth’s attentions. It was common knowledge, for so long, that Gwyneth would make an unsuitable bride. Claire had failed to see the transformation that had occurred within Gwyneth; she had blossomed. Gwyneth was a late bloomer; now she was confident, beautiful, refined and desirable. When Gareth informed his parents of his intension to take Gwyneth as his bride, they were surprised, but delighted. Gwyneth came from an honorable family, with valued traditions. It would make a good political union and Gareth seemed genuinely affectionate towards the girl. They were surprised, because for years, he'd acted as if Claire was the one. This news was devastating to Claire and her family; Gareth's family would have to manage this rejection very carefully.
Claire left the Castle shortly after, and although Gareth made discreet inquiries; he wasn’t informed of Claire’s location or fate. She disappeared from his view and his life. Over time the Baron managed to restore good relations between his estate and Claire’s family. No ill will would result from the breakdown of this potential union. Many times, the Sun rose to be replaced by the Moon, and the bond between the couple grew stronger. One beautiful summer day, Skipton Castle hosted a glorious wedding. Gareth and Gwyneth seemed a perfect match; the Baron could not have been happier.
With the passing of time, Gwyneth was with child and the Castle prepared for an addition to the family. Gareth was attentive and loving throughout. The Baron’s health continued to fail; he became weak. The sharp pains increased, deep within his chest. The Castle fell under dark times, with winter bringing a fever that swept over the countryside and throughout the Castle’s population. Many fell sick, including the Baroness. Her aides fought gallantly to save her, but she succumbed to the fever's grip. The Baron, in his weakened state, did manage to survive. His broken heart was never repaired. The loss of his beloved wife gave him little to live for. Not even a Grandchild could spur him onwards. The Baron passed away shortly after the spring season. Gwyneth gave birth to a beautiful girl with rosey-red cheeks. They named her Ruby. Ruby seemed to bring good fortune to the Castle; shortly after her arrival, the fever cleared and with it, came the warm summer weather. The Castle adopted Ruby as the bringer of good fortunes. That year's harvest was the best in living memory, and the good times returned to the Castle.
Claire had a different story. She'd left the Castle with feelings of embarrassment and disgrace. Her parents had inquired about the circumstances surrounding Gareth’s decision. Why had he changed his mind, when for so long it seemed a certain union? She was confused, upset and angry. Claire returned home to her family’s estate, but always felt inadequate. Her parents tried to find her another suitor, but the men she met were old, disrespectful and dirty. She would never find another Gareth.
Under the cover of darkness, Claire would dress in peasant robes and slipped out of her family’s residence. She didn’t have a plan, but she knew she couldn’t stay. Her parents would eventually pressure her into marrying and she'd be trapped in an arranged union, with a spouse she wouldn’t love. It may have been a strong political union for the family, but she wasn’t staying around to find out. Claire walked calmly to the edge of the village; she didn’t want to raise any suspicions. At the edge, she was faced with only one frightening option. She had to choose the path leading away from the village and into the woods. Claire knew her absence would soon be discovered. The village would soon be alive with activity and they would surely find her. She would have to face the consequences, and her parents would increase their search to find a suitable union.
Her dark robes provided cover, but she shivered as the cold night air swirled around her body. A man moved in the shadows but his staggering steps showed the effects of too much ale. Claire hurried towards the clearing, a small section of the village that led to the forest path. Winding her way quickly through the dark empty streets, she began to question her plan. What is she doing? What awaits her in the forest? Will she find safety or purgatory? Would she survive the night or would a wild animal feast upon her flesh? The more she thought, the more she hastened her stride. As if to face the very fear that fuelled her every move, she became more determined to leave. She threw herself into a corner, a dark junction of a fence, made from Ash branches and mud. She'd heard men’s voices and she quickly melted into the damp, dark, shadows.
Two soldiers, assigned to watch the perimeter of the village, passed by. They didn’t see Claire, crouching within her hooded cape, as they rubbed their hands together for warmth.
They laughed together, be
fore walking onwards to their next stop. Now, was the right time to emerge into the open. The guards had moved onwards and the Moon was smothered with a thick layer of black clouds. The path leading into the forest seemed dark and ominous. What choice did she have? The path was still wet from the day’s rain. A thick layer of mud coated the path’s surface with pools of water. She noticed the water nestled deep within the tracks carved by the wooden wheels of the merchant’s carts.
Claire decided to run through the heavy mud towards the forest path. The mud stuck to her feet, making them slow and wet. She was determined to remain hidden as she hastily pushed her body forward. She passed through the clearing, into the dense cover of the forest; a wave of relieve swept over her. In her heart, she knew she was doing the right thing. Protected from the wind, she hurried along the path, now enveloped by dark branches, leaves and ferns. No one would suspect she would enter the forest alone. It would take a full search of the village before this possibility would be examined. This would allow her more time to escape and move deeper into the forest. From there, she didn't have a plan. She would have to trust fate and the path that was now chosen for her.
Claire walked deeper into the forest, narrowing her eyes to focus on the way ahead. The dark blanket provided by the trees shielded the light. Claire had to concentrate; she had to stay on the path. She passed a large stone bolder that encroached upon the dirt path. She carefully walked around it, noticing the deep scrapes along its side. It was a large stone often struck by carts, wheels and objects that had traveled down this path. Claire was getting cold and she pulled her hooded cloak tightly to her body. She talked to herself as she walked. “Keep going. You’re safe. You’ll find happiness. It’ll be morning soon.”
It would be a long time before morning broke; the beasts of the night were just starting to wake. The forest came alive with animals foraging in the darkness; trees swayed in the wind, strange noises seeped across the cool night air. Claire became frightened; she heard every sound. She saw brightly colored eyes following her from the darkness. Claire was unarmed and suddenly felt exposed. She pressed onwards and hurried her pace. A loud shrill sound pierced the darkness emanating from her right. “What was that?” she heard herself mutter.
This scared her but she was determined to continue. She surveyed the path ahead; she stopped for a brief moment. Something was waiting for her ahead; something large and dark. She stood frozen as she narrowed her eyes trying to focus on the shape ahead. It didn’t move.
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