Seductive Persuasion (Panthera, Book One)

An Excerpt From: SEDUCTIVE PERSUASION

Copyright © FRANCES STOCKTON, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“What brings you to our village on such a night as this?”

“I mean no harm, fair lady,” Haywood promised. His smile was little more than a gap-toothed leer. The balding man made her the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rise, causing her to ignore her worry over the sawing rumble in the distance. “I wish to entertain the village. I have traveled far through the day’s rain in the hope of warding away your troubles for at least a night. Might I inquire as to whom quells my efforts?”

“Aisley, a healer, and I speak not for myself, but for the villagers. This village has not gone unscathed by plague. We have lost many. I would not wish for the sickness to return.”

“Nor would I,” Haywood responded. Feigning elegance, he bowed at the hips. The expense of his green and tan robe and the silk of his gypon made him appear a man of means. At the hem of his robe, Aisley caught a glimpse of a sword. “I am free of plague. You may inspect me for lesions if it would set your mind at ease.”

The rumbling she’d heard grew more prominent, sounding like an animal. It felt as if the beast was warning her against inspecting the man. Oddly, no one else seemed to hear it.

“I think it best if you leave before the villagers lose more coin.” Inspecting this man would require three areas, the armpit, neck and the inner thighs. Touching him was not something she relished, regardless of her vow to attend those in need.

“Aisley, do not rush him off. He promises to reveal the creature behind that curtain, and I, for one, have paid to see it,” Howard Jones said.

It was difficult to avoid staring at the curtained stage resting behind the stranger. The jester had tumbled his way to one side of the wheeled contraption and hung from a ladder. The minstrel strolled toward the opposite.

“Throwing away money like this can only lead to trouble,” Aisley said.

“How is it that a woman speaks so bold?” Sedgewick Haywood demanded.

“It is common for Aisley to do so,” Andrew White answered. “Her father was a physician for the Earl of Danford. She is valued amongst us.”

“Then why have you given what this man has asked?” Aisley wondered aloud.

“Curiosity.”

“We want to see what he has to offer.”

“Worry not, Aisley. All will be well.”

The villagers relayed their wishes and Aisley stepped back. She could not deny them a few moments pleasure. Even her curiosity was piqued.

More pennies hit the ground as Sedgewick demanded. Apparently pleased with the villagers, the visitor bowed once again in acceptance.

“Ah, at last my performers will grant your due,” Haywood pronounced. Proudly, he moved to the side. “Beware, dear friends, sometimes myths can be proven.”

Both the minstrel and the jester beckoned to the crowd and the curtain before them. Whispers filled the air, but they could not mask the eerie sawing drawing ever closer to the village.

Did no one else hear the beast? It sounded as if he roared from a mountaintop.

“What is that I hear?” she asked. “Is someone cutting branches in the forest?”

“I hear nothing of the sort, Aisley,” Howard said.

Ease your worry, little one, only you can hear me, someone said, someone male with a deep, gruff voice. I am close. Do not provoke the visitor.

“Who spoke to me?” Aisley demanded, glancing about. The villagers stared back as though she’d gone mad.

“Your attention, healer,” Haywood insisted. “To one and all, I give you living proof of werewolves in England!”

“Werewolves…are you mad, Haywood?” Andrew asked.

“Nay, I tell you true, feast your eyes on a werewolf’s babe.” Sedgewick swept his right hand toward the jester, who sliced a rope and the curtain shushed to the ground.

“Oh!”

“Evil.”

“Witchery.”

“What do you mean by this?”

“Deplorable…”

“Barbaric…”

Aisley gasped in horror as the villagers voiced her feelings. A child with large, rounded blue eyes stared at them and wept, pleading for love. It was barbaric to see such a beautiful girl subjected to such cruelty.

“Dastard,” Aisley accused. “How dare you cage a child?”

“It is for her safety and yours, dear lady.”

“Nay, this is an atrocity the likes of which none of us have seen.”

“All should know by now there are no werewolves or men that can change into animals,” Howard said. “You show us an unfortunate child.”

“Can you not see her deformity?” the visitor insisted. “This occurs in children of a werewolf.”

“You speak of what is evil, Haywood!” Andrew White shouted.

“Nay, cease! I beg you,” Aisley warned. Talk of evil could spread quickly amongst the crowd. “There is no evil here. This child is an angel from God, not some creature.”

“Mayhap the healer feels herself capable of speaking for God,” Sedgewick hedged, rounding on Aisley and marching toward her. “Be careful in your speech, healer. It would be unwise to speak of His will in such a way.”

“There is nothing wrong in speaking of God.”

“Yet you are certain you can dispel the existence of evil.”

“Evil is a man who can cage a child!” Aisley accused.

“Step away from me, woman! How dare you speak to me with such disrespect? I see standing before me a woman of flame red hair, freckles upon her face and a dark patch of skin right beneath her chin, a woman who shouldn’t be so outspoken.” Sedgewick looked at the villagers. “Your healer bears the marks of a witch. She should be sent to a priest to confess her sins.”

Unbidden, tiny bumps pricked Aisley’s skin as Sedgewick spoke of witchcraft. Because of her father’s teachings, the villagers of Danford did not believe a birthmark was the mark of evil. Such talk could sway minds, causing hysteria and fear.

“My mother bore freckles and my father the same red hair. He also had a mark on his shoulder similar to that which you see beneath my chin. You’ll not find a villager amongst us who would think they were anything less than good, decent Christians, nor I,” she said.

“She speaks the truth,” Andrew added in her defense.

The jester and the minstrel pulled long, sharp daggers from their scabbards. Andrew and others stepped forward to protect the women of the village. Aisley turned away and rushed to the cage.

Realizing she shouldn’t have spoken so harshly to Sedgewick, Aisley tried reason. “Please sir, please free this child and let me take care of her,” she urged and reached for the door.

“Step away anon! That child is not what you think. She is eight with the mind of a babe. There is nothing that you can do to change that. She has been in my charge for nigh unto three years. She is clothed and fed. Another man would have left her to die. “

“It matters not what you say. I beg you to allow me to attend her. I am a healer. I can take care of her.”

Aisley faced the child, attempting to smile, to soothe as best she could from the slight distance. She would love to trace the girl’s wispy brown hair back behind her ears and wash away the dirt streaked across her plump, round face.

“You will be all right, sweet angel. Fear no more.” She paid no mind to the rush of voices warning her to stop.

“Healer, touch what belongs to me and I will make you pay dearly for it,” Sedgewick threatened in a voice so frightening it sent tremors down her spine. “Take your hand from that door or I will cut it off.” The sound of a sword being removed from its scabbard sang close to her ear. From the corner of her eye she saw the stranger raise his arm. She was certain he was about to let the blade slice through her wrist if she didn’t let go of the cage, but she was too frightened to move.

“Threaten what is mine, knave, and you will face a wrath unlike anything you could comprehend!” A man’s unexpected voice rumbled behind them. The unusual sawing she’d heard from the woods reached her then and she trembled, yet she couldn’t understand why no one else reacted to it.