A little bit of the story

Helen and the guard, who she noticed had a half-formed beard, made their way down the hill. She had little need for him, but it was after dark, and after all she had heard some terrifying tales of what might be encountered out in the paths and roads at nighttime. The guard seemed to want to go slowly, and kept on remarking about how fine the light of the moon was, but Helen really just wanted to get to the cottage where she would find her sister and a fire in the hearth waiting for her. Just as the cottage was perhaps 20 yards away the guard slipped an arm around her shoulder and, bending his head toward her ear, whispered “A fellow gets lonely sometimes, stuck in that castle.”

The stench of his after-feast after-drunken breath was as awful as what he was suggesting. Helen removed his arm from her shoulder firmly and said “Oh, see I am quite sure I can make it safely from here. Thank you so much for ensuring my safe passage. I do think you ought to head back to the castle now. After all, the young lady bid your quick return, and though I do not know her well, I dare say her wrath would not bear pleasant fruit.” Her eyes flashed in the light of his lantern’s flame; there could be no mistake in the dismissal or the warning.

He shook his shoulders; his face blank of expression, he said, in brusque military fashion, “As you wish,” turned away abruptly and headed back the way they had come.

Helen then ran down the hill to the cottage, where she hugged her sister and told her all she had seen that day, barely remembering to breathe as descriptions of the castle’s cold enormity and powerful impressions tumbled out to Maggie’s quiet pensive listening.