Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection Read Free Page A

He sometimes wondered if illnesses were concocted
just so the honey bread could be enjoyed. But regardless Faith
welcomed them all and it had endeared her to all.
    A crack of a branch brought Eric out of his
musings and his hand went to the hilt of his sword that hung at his
side. He saw only shadows, though in them he knew the hobgoblin
could lurk. So he kept a steady eye on everything around him.
Whether it was the shadow of a tree swaying in the wind, an animal
busy in preparation of the coming winter or simply life in the
woods, he kept aware. He never allowed a trick of the eye to fail
to keep him from spotting the obvious or that which was hidden. The
hobgoblin would not get passed him. He would fell the creature and
be done with, sending him home where he belonged and then... then
he would finally have his wife to himself.
    The attack came so swiftly that it took Eric
a moment to realize that he had been hit. And when he did and was
about to retaliate, he was hit again so hard that the blow felled
him to the ground.
    Stunned by the second attack he lay on the
ground furious that he had failed to see the creature’s approach.
He cast a cautious though hasty glance around and that is when he
caught sight... of the hobgoblin.
    ~~~
    The Irish Devil stormed through the village,
nostrils flaring and his eyes filled with fiery anger. When he
didn’t find Faith in her healing cottage his frustration mounted
and his strides hastened. The villagers were quick to retreat from
his sight and fearful of what they saw. Not only was the Irish
Devil angry beyond measure, he also bore the marks of the
hobgoblin.
    Eric stopped abruptly in the middle of the
village and called out, “Listen all and listen well.”
    The villagers reluctantly paid heed and
gathered closer to their chieftain.
    Eric raised his bloody arms. “You all see
that I met the hobgoblin. The creature has yet to be sent home to
the Other World, but I promise you that before this day ends he
will be no more, for I will see him dead!”
    Gasps filled the air. No one ever killed a
creature from the Other World. It just wasn’t possible and it
wasn’t wise. They were too powerful, but then an Other World
creature had never come up against the Irish Devil.
    Eric left the villagers mumbling amongst
themselves, though left little doubt that his words rang true as he
hurried to find his wife.
    He burst into the keep and his glance fell on
Faith the same moment her eyes met his. In seconds she handed over
their sleeping son to Borg and hurried to him. He was near on top
of her by the time she took only a few steps.
    “You’re hurt,” she said and took his hand.
“Come and sit so I may tend your wounds.”
    He loved the feel of her hand in his, it not
only comforted it reminded him of intimate touches that of late he
ached for and ached to return. Her skin was velvet soft and the
concern in her eyes reminded him just how much she loved him. He
had known little of love until he had met Faith. He had tasted of
it briefly, but once he had met her and had the full flavor of it,
he hungered for more and she had willingly given it to him. She
forever quenched his thirst and he could not see life without
her.
    “I told you not to go alone,” Faith scolded
with gentleness.
    “And I paid no heed, for I am a warrior—”
    “And was attacked for your stubbornness,” she
admonished, already busy at work on his wounds.
    Eric didn’t argue. He enjoyed her gentle and
caring touch and wanted to linger in the pleasure it brought
him.
    “Tell us what happened,” Borg said keeping
Eric’s sleeping son tucked safely in the crook of his arm.
    “I saw the hobgoblin,” Eric said as he
finally sat.
    The room went silent except for a low whine
from Rook who put his head down and his paw over it.
    “Hobgoblins are not meant to be seen,” Borg
said.
    “I can understand why,” Eric said. “Wild hair
that stuck out in points from his head, small and wiry in size,
large eyes that