16th October 1102

Cindra awoke in the dank embrace of the autumn forest. The sun was sinking steadily towards the horizon, smearing the sky crimson with blood as his dying body was dragged inexorably down. The clouds were stained, pink and fleshy as they soaked up the gore left behind. Pale streaks of blue appeared as the wind swept them aimlessly across the sky, mopping up the fetid mess.

Peering up through the fine material of the black veil that covered her head the light shone grainy, diffuse as it struggled to wind its way through a thousand tiny holes. Cindra did not know where she was going as her feet crunched softly, golden leaves curling around themselves as she slowly passed overhead.

She heard laughter, heavy boots stomping through the forest, the thud of the earth beneath their tread, the muffled squelch of crushed wet leaves.

She hastened her stride, darting behind a large oak tree. Her trembling hands found purchase on the knotted bark of the sturdy trunk as her feet slid treacherously in the mud.

“Where the hell…?”, she heard a boy’s reedy voice coming from the direction of the footsteps.

The boy’s voice broke at the word hell and he coughed embarrassed and continued in an exaggeratedly deep tone, “did it go?”

They burst from the undergrowth, three faces she recognised very well though she had not seen them like this for a very long time.

“Well if you would stop your bleating squeaky maybe it wouldn’t have run so fast”, her husband turned to Lochan, “Christ’s blood man, you sound like a blocked set of bag-pipes. No wonder the boar turned tail and ran. I would too if I wasn’t supposed to keep an eye on your scrawny asses”.

Lochan cuffed a sniggering Eallair soundly on the head, “What are you laughing at lad. You sound like a squeaky pipe all the time”.

Eallair looked abashed, but then turned to Garrick, “Garrick pleeeease. Couldn’t I just shoot the bow once. I promise I won’t hurt it. I know I could hit the boar, you should see me hit the target. I almost got in the centre once”.

He smiled proudly as he remembered the feat, “It was something to be seen that’s for sure. So can’t I just have a go?”

Garrick peered down at him. For a boy of fifteen he was already tall, his legs shooting upwards from the ground like sturdy tree-trunks bursting into a canopy of red curls.

“Listen squib, I’m inclined to believe you since I know you never lie”, he wiggled his eyebrows while Lochan snorted behind him, “but this bow is almost the size of you so perhaps you should leave it to us big boys who know what we’re doing. You should just be glad we let you come along”.

“Oh, alright then. But maybe next time I can try. And perhaps you could inform my brother Weylan that I did in fact shoot an arrow that very nearly hit the boar. If that wouldn’t be too much trouble”.

“No I suppose that wouldn’t be too much trouble”, Garrick replied with a throaty laugh.

“But can you show me again how I should stand”, Eallair asked very nicely.

“Alright squib, so you’ve got to make sure your stance is quite wide, feet beneath shoulders is a good measure of the thing. You’ve got to put a lot of your weight into pulling back the gut, it’s stretched very tight. Here feel”.

“Goodness gracious ladies”, Lochan feigned a wide yawn exposing slight bucked teeth, “If you’re about done I thought we were supposed to be hunting a wild boar. Not faffing around with a sodding archery lesson. If you don’t mind I’m off to make the kill”.

“You don’t even know where the boar went so don’t give me that nonsense”, Garrick retorted, looking slightly miffed.

“What’s that?”, squealing Eallair.

“What’s what?”, asked Lochan wide-eyed.

“Both of you quit your gabbling that’s what. I think it’s the boar. In those bushes over there. Now shut your whiny mouths, I’m going after it”, Garrick tiptoed towards the edge of the clearing.

The golden leaves shivered as whatever moved within them shifted position. Cindra could almost imagine the bush was alive, trembling in anticipation of what was about to happen. Cindra was trembling too, forcing herself not to cry out as she clung to the rough edges of the tree, her fingernails ragged where they dug into the unyielding bark.

With a single fluid movement Garrick notched an arrow and sent it soaring in a perfect arc towards the boar, the forest resonating with a load twang.

The arrow found its mark with a sickening, wet thud. The bushes emitted a shriek of pain that reveberated through the still clearing. Then there was silence, the only sound the faint rustle of falling leaves as they found their target on the damp earth below.

“Lochan… “, Garrick turned towards his friend, stuttering, eyes wide with fright, “Lochan… it didn’t sound like…”.

There was a guttural moan of agony, rising up from the midst of the bushes like the wet earthy scent that rose, repugnant, from the forest floor.

“Oh God… oh God”, Garrick ran to the bushes, panting in terror, plunging amongst them scrabbling frantically.

“No! Oh God please no!”, Garrick’s cry ripped through Cindra’s shaking body and she clung tightly to the ancient gnarled bulk of the oak, her body racked with silent sobs.

The trees around them twitched sending blood red leaves spiraling to their deaths, their prostrate bodies flecking the slimy ground, a testament to autumn’s mass carnage.

He came stumbling into the clearing, a small figure clasped in his arms, her hair flowing down her back like a blood stain.

“Oh God, Isabelle”, Lochan croaked.

“Get help”, Garrick muttered through gritted teeth as he staggered towards them.

They stared at him, faces twin masks of horror, the crimson flare of the setting sun’s heavy body reflecting in their blank eyes.

Garrick carefully lowered Isabelle to the ground, eliciting a dreadful groan of pain from her.

“I’m sorry love, oh God Isabelle. You’ll be fine Izzy girl. Don’t fret. Don’t fret. The boys are just getting help”, his voice was slumping from his mouth in a garbled avalanche of distress.

“Get help you bloody fools”, Garrick’s roar startled them out of their paralysed terror and Lochan and Eallair ran from the clearing, smashed leaves squirming beneath their clumsy feet.

The sun was setting, writhing in the final throes of death as it sent up last panicked flares of gold, flashing across the sky. It oozed towards the horizon, smudging across the darkening shadow of the forest.

“Shh, love. You’ll be alright Izzy. They’re coming with help they are”, Garrick was murmuring his cheek against Isabelle’s lolling head.

Cindra could see the arrow standing straight from Isabelle’s heaving chest. With every haggard breath the fletching quivered faintly as though the arrow had become a living part of her, planting its roots deep in her chest.

“Hold still Izzy. I’m going to break off the arrow at the head. It won’t be hurting you as much then. Just hold very still and grab onto my tunic. It won’t be long”.

There was a wrenching crack followed by an inhuman shriek that stiffened the hairs on the back of Cindra’s neck as she pressed her face against the sodden wood of the oak tree.

“Hush now my girl. You’re alright aren’t you. Shh shh. Better now that’s d…d… done”, Garrick was babbling mindlessly as he knelt beside the drooping body of his twin.

A dark red was spreading out in every direction from the sheared off arrow that protruded from her breast. A trickle of blood dribbled from one corner of Isabelle’s mouth, drooling unchecked over her chin and dripping onto her knees.

“Shh shh. It’s alright”, Garrick was smoothing Isabelle’s hair with his shaking hands as he kissed the top of her head with quavering lips.

Slowly, Isabelle’s body unfurled like a moist leaf placed deep in a fire. She sank out of Garrick’s limp arms to lie prostrate on the damp ground. Blood was oozing from her chest, a fresh gout with every stuttering heart beat. It mingled with the flashing golds, the deep reds, the dull yellows, the bright oranges, the faded withered browns.

Amongst them all was Isabelle, her red hair flowing from her pale face like blood as she died with them there on the forest floor, autumn’s final slaughter.

Murchadh, Tadhgar, The Royal Family