“It will just not die,” the other short Fausti man said.
In truth, these short Fausti men were extremely young, but they were speaking to me like teenagers. They were speaking to me like men who still had physical growing to do. I got the short Fausti man/men description then.
I waved a dismissive hand. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help. Keep an eye on the fire. I’m going right over there to get some water from the donkey’s trough.”
The Shorty who came and got me sucked in a shocked breath. “You will not go alone,donna bella!”
I grinned as he took my arm and escorted me to the trough. He retrieved the water, filling the pail up. Before we turned to walk back, voices echoed in the woods around us. His eyes widened and, I guess, so did mine. He put a finger to his mouthand crept toward the edge of the wood. He made a motion for me to come closer. I crept just as he had.
The other Shorty exploded into the area we were at, and we both jumped a bit. The Shorty who escorted me had a certified name. Ermanno. That was what the other Shorty called him after he tore through the wood like a Fausti tornado.
Ermanno put a finger to his mouth, rather forcefully, and made an eye gesture at hisamico, as if to say, be quiet! Then he whispered his name. Gennaro. Ermanno shoved the pail at Gennaro and pointed in the direction of the fire. Gennaro didn’t need to be told in words. He took off in the direction of the fire.
Firstly.The two didn’t seem to truly need me. I was guessing they didn’t know the property and where to find water.
Secondly.I was torn. The voices in the woods were still coming toward us on the wind. Whoever these people were, they were sneaking around our property. Was it Massimo? Or was he at the meeting with Luca and Rocco? The voice drifting with the wind wasn’t masculine. It was feminine. Feminine and crazed. She was laughing like a witch.
Setting my hand on Ermanno’s shoulders, I turned him toward me. His eyes were wide and glistening with the light of twinkling bulbs above our heads.
“What?” I whispered.
He rubbed his arms. “That is astrega,” he whispered back. “I know these things!”
“Stregaor not,” I said, “she shouldn’t be here.”
“Are you not afraid?” He took a step away from me.
“Should I be?”
“Any woman should be afraid of that.” He pointed in the direction the voice was coming from.
I didn’t have time to debate with this short Fausti man about whether the woman in the woods was a witch or not, and why I wasn’t afraid of her. I was more afraid she’d try to sneak into ourbedroom at night and cut my husband for scorning her, or me for having him.
“Do me a favor, Ermanno?”
It took a few seconds, but finally, he nodded.
“Once we get back to the party, help me find one of the soldiers.”
He stood taller, like a soldier, and nodded. He took my arm again, and his hands were clammy, either from the water or from his unease. A man in the woods? He’d probably want to fight him, but a witch? That was crossing a line. I almost laughed but kept my face intentionally blank. Ermanno was taking his job very seriously. Didn’t want to wound his male pride before he fully developed one.
We took a step in the direction of the party, but as our feet fell and woodland debris cracked underneath, a blood freezing growl seemed to echo from the woods behind us. It wasn’t a regular growl. It was snorting mixed with anger. Ermanno jumped in front of me, opening his arms to shield me.
He whispered one word that made my blood run cold.
“Cinghiale!”
Wild boar!
Rocco had mentioned how wild they were, and how overpopulated they were getting from a lack of hunting. This one seemed possessed, but the scariest part was, its body blended in with the night.
Until it came close enough to be brightened by the twinkling lights spreading tender light from the celebration. The fog parted for its powerful hooves, and it truly seemed like an animal sent from the depths of hell.
“The witch has sent it after us!” Ermanno rushed out in a whisper. “She is punishing us for eavesdropping! I heard her casting her dark spells. The screeching! Did you hear anything more,donna dolce?”
The situation was more like we pissed it off either becauseone, we had stepped into its territory, ortwo, the mean pig was a female and she had…piglets or boarlets?… close by.
“Don’t run,” I whispered. “I watched a documentary once. They’re fast.”
