The Woods Are Dark

EPILOGUE

“What ho! What ho!” Lander sang quietly as he limped through the dark woods. His gunshot leg had nearly healed.

“What ho! What ho! Sing merry-a-day!”

He carried the girl through the clearing, and dropped her at his feet. She groaned.

Not dead?

“Passing strange,” he muttered. “Soon fixed.”

He slid the hatchet from his belt.

Her eyes opened. She reached up, and clutched a handful of hair, nearly pulling down his nice new skirt. “Please,” she said.

“Please? The King’s tongue?” He knelt beside her. He gazed at her moonlit body, a body he’d taken such pleasure from, earlier, after bashing her head. A young, lithe body. “What do they call you?” he asked.

“Lilly.”

“Lilly. Oh, Lily sweet and fair, how like a flower you are.” He touched her small breasts. “Buds and petals. Sweet nectar. Shall I spare you? Shall I take you to my palace?”

Her hand slipped through the hanging hair, and touched him.

“Perchance I shall.

He put the hatchet away, and lifted her. He kissed her breast. “Come, let’s away. We shall be God’s spies.”

He carried her into the forest of impaled heads.

“Grar,” said the girl, looking at one.

“You knew him? A fellow of infinite jest. Quite chapfallen.”

“A prick” said Lilly.

Lander laughed. “What ho! What ho! So merry-a-day” he sang, and carried her toward the cabin.