Dark Forest [Extract]
A Tale of the Ghost of a King and a Time Traveller...
When Mary-Lou’s love-quest dumps her, a family heirloom brings her back 800 years on a unicorn– to the Rebellion in France, 1173. Mary Lou, morphing into her ancestor Marie, is now on the run from an arranged marriage, and in love with a rebel poet who will meet the gallows if she doesn’t untangle the lies in her heart…
Brief Synopsis: Marie de Champagne (daughter of Louis VII and Eleanor of Aquitaine) is reimagined into a medieval world of unicorns, ghosts, witches and wizards. Combining history with magic, Dark Forest brings the intrigue of JJ Martin’s Game of Thrones (without the violence), to the time traveling adventures of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander, the other-worldliness of Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn and for a genre fit, The Highland Raven by Melanie Karsak. Young adults who love faery tales, medieval worlds and proxy stories of dysfunctional families, will love Dark Forest…
Here is a sample chapter of Dark Forest, YA historical fantasy novel I wrote in 2021….
“ Despite herself, Mary Lou remembered the well with its mottled stones, lichen spread over them like pressed flowers. She drank the clear water, scooped it up in her hands. But when the water settled, she saw her reflection. Her hair was five inches longer, red-gold, full of wavy curls. And in the water she saw another figure- a taller woman with the same red-gold hair and green eyes. She wore a blue dress. And then she disappeared. Mary Lou stepped back into the hazel trees.
My name is Mary Lou, Mary Lou, Mary Lou, Mary Lou, Mary Lou, Mary Lou, I will not forget my name no matter what that old witch said...
She picked up a sharp stone and began to scratch her name into the branch of a hazel tree. Somebody would see it. They’d have to. She’d leave it here, cut into the tree, in case she forgot. She carved the initials ML into the bark, and they stood out raw and bleeding on the bark. What if she never returned? What if this cold, mossy forest was- her fate? Something rustled behind the hazel trees. Something that sounded like a trapped bird at first, but then she heard footsteps. A man with a very large belly and bandy legs pushed his way through the hazel trees towards her. He had a beard and curly, silver hair with a crown on his head. He wore a blue tunic covered in golden fleur-de-lys and he faded, like a flickering image on a screen but gradually he became a fully fleshed out and very fat human being. Mary Lou jumped behind the well.
“I am honored to see your kind again.” he said to the unicorn, holding his hand to his chest, tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t enter the Kingdom. You know what they will do.”
He stepped around the well, peering down at Mary Lou who was sitting hunched up at the side of it.
“I’ve been watching you cutting the trees.”
“My name is Mary Lou.” she said, clutching the sharp rock in her fist.
“I know those eyes and that red golden hair. You are from the Kingdom, of that I am sure.”
“I’m not from the Kingdom, I’m from somewhere else. I’m from-“
She couldn’t remember. The name was gone.
“There is a strange look about you, and you are in rags. You are lost, like me. Have you traveled through the rocks, my dear?” He took a step towards her, and she froze. He was flabby and he smelled of river weed and smoke.
“I don’t remember the exact point where everything changed. I was at home waiting for my dinner. I stole something, and my father was very angry. His name is Tristan- I remember that. But I’ve just forgotten the name of the place I came from. I can’t believe I’ve forgotten already.”
“Such an unfortunate name, my dear. Tristan, so full of sorrows.”
“He’s not sad, he’s just obsessed with his research.”
“‘Tis a cruel fate to never belong anywhere. I am bored here, among these mules.”
“Which mules?”
“The ones I feast with day in, day out.” He scratched at his head and fell silent, as if he did not know what to say next. He had a broad face, with a long red nose. She looked at his crown again- it had little Fleur de Lys sprouting from the band.
“Your Majesty?”
“Correct. I am Louis. King, once, but no longer. Be careful with that unicorn. I beg you don’t bring him to the Kingdom. They lust for the blood of unicorns. Especially my son. I beg you.”
Mary Lou jumped up on the unicorn’s back and the old King crossed himself.
“God speed! Curse the brigands and the robbers!” They cantered through the trees away from him. Mary Lou threw her arms around the unicorn’s neck.
“Go, go! Don’t listen to him. Nobody will harm you.”
He whinnied and kicked the path, reared up and tore through the trees.
“Who is that fat man? A King?”
He is your ancestor.
“He’s a ghost.”
Ghosts can be very helpful.
They reached the Service trees with the white flowers and the waxy leaves, where they had first collected flowers for Hannah. The golden warblers sang hysterically into the morning air. Mary Lou jumped down. The unicorn looked up at her from across the stream.
You take that road, and you keep going. I cannot go to the Kingdom.
Mary looked at the muddy road, full of fresh hoof tracks. She could nearly smell the men that had been here. Twigs were broken on the track. She looked back to the stream but the unicorn was not there. She ran behind the trees, back into the forest. He’d left no tracks. She unraveled the unicorn hair from her wrist, tried to make it go straight like a rod but it lay limp in her hand.
Then she looked out of the forest and saw a Castle rise over the field of blue flowers. It had a large, rectangular keep and fat turrets with blue flags flapping from the summits. It looked grey and austere, surrounded by high, protective walls. She pulled her shawl around her and trailed through the field of blue flowers.
This was the Kingdom they had spoken of. The birds warbled in the service trees, where they had picked flowers for Hannah. Over the fields, a herd of horned cows grazed in the pastures below the Castle. In the field of blue flowers she could see tracks where the flowers were flattened. One track went up towards the hill where the Castle rose into the sky. Rushing past the blue flowers, she saw a white hair dangling in front of her. It caught the light, swinging from the flower. He’d been here.
Blue and gold flags hung limp on the poles jutting out of Castle walls in the searing heat. Mary Lou steadied herself with her hand against the cool stone of the wall. She heard noises. Terse orders. The clank of wood on metal. The whinny of horses. The cows in the pasture stared at her, chewing methodically. Buzzards and kites circled over her, eying her suspiciously. Or perhaps they were falcons, she wasn’t sure.
She heard hooves clopping and voices- low, deep staccato tones. Somebody had seen her, she knew that. Her legs shook, her arms dangled limply. Her throat was dry. She slipped on a rock and fell on the path just as she saw two men ahead at the turn in the road carrying scabbards and flags with the Fleur de Lys. They wore helmets like silver kettles over their faces with black, demonic holes in them for their eyes, blue tunics and rattling chainmail.
She tried to get up. They gripped their swords in the scabbards. Everything went black- the castle, the sun, the men in armor disappeared. But she could still hear them.
“Bring her inside.”
They spoke a strange dialect, but she understood. What a great time to faint, she thought as they hawled her up, turned her around and picked her up again. One held her under her arms and the other held her ankles and her feet. They carried her up the steep hill.
“I am Mary Lou.” she said to one of the men who had handed his helmet to some little pageboy who ran ahead carrying the helmet like a watering can. She tried to say her name again. But no words came out. The huge, rusty Portcullis clanked and rattled, pulled upwards by ropes.
“We have found her!” said the knight, pulling her up on onto a chestnut horse, holding her waist with his firm metallic arm. He thinks he’s a hero, she thought. He’s showing off, making sure that whoever is looking out the window sees him with his prize. The walls towered over her now and the Portcullis was completely lowered, had had its last clank and fell still. The guards stood at the gate, their shields pinned over them like giant badges, staring ahead into the bailey. Why had she run up the hill as if her life depended on it? And then fainted at the feet of those clattering knights? Great move. As Hannah had said, she was back. This wasn’t a spike in her drink at the Den, this was something else.
The woman in the blue dress and cloak stroked her plaits nervously, as she watched Mary Lou. She had a cap with a ribbon strapped under her chin. Her lips were thin and stern. In fact she looked like her sister Louise on a bad day. She took Mary Lou’s hand as she was lifted down by the knight and held her steady as she landed on the cobblestones. Mary Lou looked up at the knight and his eyes stung her. Violet eyes, just like Jake. She tried to remember what Jake looked like- but she could only remember the eyes. This gleaming knight had a couple of dents in his breastplate. The servants came through the door looked away, not daring to look up at the knight. The woman in blue took her arm.
“Foolish girl.” she said.
“Let me tell you who I am, first.” said Mary Lou, but her legs gave way beneath her and two lean servants rushed in to grab her arms with their bony hands, holding her upright and firm so that she glided in through great wooden doors that opened with a groan of old, black hinges. They entered the Great Hall, where the floors were strewn with lavender and straw, barely hiding the stench of oil, wine and urine. Servants scurried up and down the hall, brushing the floors, lighting the lamps that hung from the damp walls on brackets. Voices hissed around her.
She is back. She looks like a beggar. Look at her hair, like the devil’s wife! She’s been in the Dark Woods. Bring her to the chamber!
How did they know who she was when they did not know who she was? What if that old witch had done something to her that was irreversible? She climbed the thin spiral staircase, supported by a servant who pressed their hands into the small of her back, gently shoving her upwards. She passed a narrow window and saw grizzly, dry vineyards below the sky, blue without a cloud and the fields full of dry summer flowers.
Her bed had thick wooden pillars and a ceiling of square panels carved with animals and fruit. Her pillow was so hard she thought it was full of sawdust. Yet the sheets smelled sweetly of lavender and roses, covering up the heavy damp, dreary smell that pervaded the castle. The servants fussed around her, shaking the sheets, poking the fire in the huge open fireplace, dusting the floors with reed brushes. Women came to her bed, austere and silent, wearing velvet hoods and wide sleeved, fitted dresses with keys hanging from their belts. They watched her with gloomy concern.
“Where is this place?”
“Hour of Mercy, My Lady. Please rest.” said one with a pointy chin.
“I want to know where I am. I mean the exact location. Just tell me.”
“You must not strain yourself.” The servant blessed herself, and looked away.
“I’m not straining myself. Tell me where I am.”
The lady in the blue dress and the stern lips swept around the bed.
“What will you do, My Lady? What will you do that you have not already done?”
“Tell me where I am.”
“Be rested, My Lady. If you do not know where you are, then the devil has surely taken you.”
“Close your eyes, My Lady.” said another.
“Rest, Lady Marie.”
“Marie? Am I in the locket?”
They looked at her curiously, and didn’t answer. One of them tutted.
Lamps were lit in the chamber, making the air thick with smoke. The sky went dark outside and the stars came out pulsing like torches, closer than she had ever seen them. She was sinking, but she couldn’t sleep with all their fussing- peeling off her rags, carrying buckets of hot water from the fire pot, pouring them into a large, wide wooden bucket. A servant poured lavender oil in her bath and the steam rose up, billowing into the smoky air around them. She saw the Lady in Blue standing sentinel by the fireplace with another bucket of steaming water in her hand. Her lips didn’t move. Two servants scrubbed her body- every crevice of it- as if she had some blighted disease. Another combed the twigs out of her hair, and picked out the knots with delectable patience, depositing each lump of matted hair in a small ceramic box. Her whole body was different- skinny, pale and creamy and lighter. They patted her body dry with cloths and slipped a stiff linen nightgown over her head, rough against her skin.
“Have you seen a locket?” she said to the Lady in Blue.
“This time you come back in rags. Why have you been in the forest again? Were you not told?”
“But have you seen it? It has the names Marie and Alexis carved on it.”
“Nothing but rags, My Lady. And a strange thing wrapped around your chest. A sort of string. You torture your father, you are a cruel girl.”
“But I came back, didn’t I?”
The Lady in Blue glared at her. Mary Lou knew that face.
"You look like my sister."
“Stop the Devil’s talk. And there’s to be no talk of poets again.” Mary Lou looked at the Blue Lady again: she had the same thin, muscular body as Louise. She had the same thin hands, the same determined face with angry blue eyes, the same narrow nose and that nervous, anxious atmosphere that surrounded her. Her hands were a little more bumpy than Louise's- they were older, and there were veins along the bones, like soft little snakes. This wasn’t Louise.
“You have no sister, my Lady. And if you ever do, she will have English blood running through her veins.”
“Really, why?”
The woman ignored her and slipped a vial from her pocket, full of greenish yellow liquid. She poked the side of Mary Lou’s cheek, as if she should know what to do but she found herself opening her mouth, felt the liquid ooze down her throat, relishing the calmness that came over her, still aware of the hissing whispers around her as she drifted to sleep.
“Her fever must be driven down. Pass the coriander poultice. She must be well for the morning. I’ll stay with her the night. She must be watched. She must not leave the room. Never. Under no circumstances and for no reason. This is His Majesty’s command.”
The woman put the coriander poultice on Mary Lou’s forehead, and that was the last thing she remembered of that first strange night in the castle.
In the morning the sun blasted into the chamber making a great beam across the room, swirling with dust. Finches chirped at the open window. Mary Lou glimpsed the view through the window- the blue hills, the blue fields full of flowers, the impossibly bright blue sky. There was a raw and vibrant beauty beyond this gloomy castle. Then, the whispers came back:
She must marry. She is wayward, cruel and spiteful. Bring her clothes. No, she must wear blue today. Find her bliaut, and the blue surcoat with ermine. Yes, that one. Today is the day.
She kept her eyes closed as the Lady in Blue came over to her bedside, muttering prayers on her lips, her rosary rotating bead by wooden bead in her hand.
“Matins, My Lady. Sit up.”
She felt Mary Lou’s forehead. Her hand was cool. She placed a poultice on her again.
“You are a plague on your father.”
“I don’t know what I have done.”
The door to the chamber creaked open and in came a pert little woman with small brown eyes like a mouse, holding a bible with a golden cross on its spine. She had a button nose and she had no eyebrows. She had one pewter ring with a purple stone on her finger. She curtseyed when she saw Mary Lou sitting upright in the bed.
“They are here, Madame.”
Three withered looking monks came through the door after her swinging incense carriers around Mary Lou’s bed, singing a solemn prayer. In Domine something or other. The two Madams kneeled down on cushions and clasped their hands in prayer. The Bible was laid out on a small table in front of them- Mary Lou could see writing in blue, green and golden ink.
“Pray.” commanded the Lady in Blue. “Pray!”
Mary Lou looked away through the window. Nobody was going to force her to pray.
“Heaven knows what he will do.” said the brown eyed woman with the mousy face. The Lady in Blue blessed herself and threw her eyes to heaven. The monks chanted fervently, as if begging God to bring her back. She decided that she would never forget her name from the other place she had come from, even if everything else sank into the quicksand of her memory. Mary Lou suddenly remembered the name of the Lady in Blue.
“Madame de Beauvais!” she shrieked. Madame de Beauvais looked at Mary Lou.
“Yes, My Lady?”
“Have they washed my feet?”
“Yes, my lady.”she said.
“And, have they perfumed me?”
“Yes, my lady. What is the purpose of this?”
"Well then, Madame Bliaud,” she said, looking at the brown eyed one. “Did you happen to find a locket in my clothes, those dirty old clothes I came back in?"
The two women looked at each other, and tutted like two old hens. The monks stayed engrossed in their solemn chant.
“Brother Alphonsis, she speaks nonsense.”
He bowed his head and blessed himself. He was a burly monk with a gleaming bald head, crowned by a crescent of white hair, like a new moon.
“She is not a sinful girl, just wilful. His Majesty will know what to do.” he said, gently, as if Mary Lou was not in the room at all.
“I only asked about the locket.”
“You were bathed when you returned. Your rags were burned. Let there be no more talk of it.”
Brother Alphonsis leaned over, and whispered into her ear, spitting slightly. His breath smelled of oats and eggs:
“We have heard you have been with the unicorn.”
His eyes rose up with the lines on his forehead. Mary Lou held her breath and shut her eyes.
“You are mistaken.” she said with her eyes still closed.
“Nobody has seen the unicorn since-“
“Leave her in peace, Brother Alphonsis. I won’t hear talk of those tales.”
“Those are not tales, Madame, but signs of a better life to come.”
She tutted and threw her eyes to heaven as the monks left the chamber, disappearing into the cold, dark hallway.
Madame Bliaud brought Mary Lou’s dress from the Garderobe, unfolded it and laid the long, wide sleeves out. The Woman in the blue dress took the second sleeve. The left side of the dress had a white sleeve, and the other side was blue. It was inlaid, in the braiding, with the insidious Fleur de Lys.
Madame de Beauvais pulled the nightdress up over Mary Lou’s head and replaced it with a tight shift, tugged at its back strings as if she was pulling ropes on a ship mast.
“Breath in!” she demanded. Her small chest was pushed up and the gown was poured down over Mary Lou’s head, sinking down on her like a heavy curtain.
“Now lift your skirts.” said Madame de Beauvais. “Let me see your toes. We have to fit the shoes."
"Blue. Yes, and the surcoat. Hurry. She is to meet His Majesty in the Cabinet."
“His Majesty? I met him in the forest.” said Mary Lou, gazing down at her blue and gold gown.
My name is Mary Lou, she said to herself. Each lady stood at either side of her, fastening and tightening her, powdering her face, plaiting her wild red hair into two neat plaits and fastening them together with narrow bands of silk and gold tissue. They sprinkled rose oil on her chest and tied a silver pendant with blue stones around her neck. They slipped a surcoat over her, and clasped it with an afiche set in pearl. The fur on the surcoat made her neck itch, and when she went to scratch it, Madame de Beauvais slapped her hand back down.
“Leave me alone.” said Mary Lou, as the door burst open. She saw the knight with the violet eyes standing in front of her. She could smell his sweat.
“My Lady.” he said, sweeping the stone floor with his cape. His clothes were sewn thickly with gold and silver threads, and dark, precious jewels. A sweep of thick, brown hair framed his handsome, tanned face. And he had violet coloured eyes.
“My Lady, where have you been?” He looked at her for too long. She was only just dressed, after all. Had he been waiting at the door?
“Nowhere.” she said, cautiously.
“Your father is in a penitential mood.” He stroked the bedcover, and smiled. She didn’t like that smile. “We have heard you have been with the unicorn.”
She looked away. He stepped closer to her, and she could smell wine on his breath, spice and meat.
“You must tell. His Majesty demands it.”
She looked out the window, wished he’d go away. But he gripped her arm. There was something both tender and hard in his grip.
“What King?” she said. Everyone in the room gasped, blessing themselves. “I met a King in the forest, alright. he was really fat and-“
“The forest, My Lady?”
“I don’t know where I’ve been. I’ve forgotten. Now leave me.”
The words that came to her mind were- The Count put me in chains.
“You were seen with the unicorn.” he said, gazing at her, running his violet eyes down her cheeks and through her red-gold hair. She remembered somebody warm and familiar. A memory of her floated up from the silt in her mind. A woman with long, red-gold hair like her own- the woman she had remembered at the well, where she had met the fat old King. A woman who sang with a lute player at one side, and a harpist at the other in a voice that sounded like honey. She remembered the softness of her hand on her face, as she went to sleep at night.
“I want to see my mother. I miss her.”
“Do not speak of your mother.” said Madame de Beauvais. “We do not speak of her here.”
“His Majesty needs the unicorn.” said the Count, as he turned to leave the room, sweeping the floor with a flourish of his coat. He did not look pleased.
“Who is that man?”
“He is your father’s chief counsel. The Count of Alsace. I don’t know why you don’t remember him, he’s only been gone for a year.” Madame de Beauvais said.
“I should not have come back.”
“But you did come back. Because you know your duty. Because you know your fate."
"I don’t like that word." said Mary Lou, as she was led through the creaking wooden door of the chamber and down a dark, damp hall. The servants scuttled down the halls like mice, sweeping the walls, spreading reeds and lavender on the floors, filling the oil lamps, and sharpening the wicks. The lamps flickered, throwing strange shadows on the walls and Mary Lou wondered where on earth she was being brought to in her blue dress.
© Siofra O’Donovan, Extract from Dark Forest, 2021
What an exciting extract! The book will be amazing! :)
Can't wait to read what happens next, fabulous extract, thank you 🥰💙