Nothing so extreme happened on her journey and she soon heard the sounds of talking men and the steady tread of their horses. Gold knew where she was now and positioned herself so she could get a clear view of the road that lay beyond the final line of bushes. Even though the sky was now pitch black and the moon was yet to appear she could see perfectly, aided by the lights the men carried with them.
The road led into town. It was always busy during the evening when the owners of the farmlands Gold and her sisters carefully avoided traveled along it. The men would head toward the tavern to learn of recent events, place bets on cockfights and, of course, drink the evil drink that made them wild and crazy.
The evil drink was dangerous, Gold’s mother had told her, and would turn even men of the noblest stature into wild and uncontrollable beasts. Gold sometimes wondered why men would choose to drink it at all. Perhaps, she thought, it was sometimes easier to live as a beast. To exist in a frenzied state where all was possible and nobody was responsible. She imagined that the evil drink whispered to men the same way her sacred place did to her, but told them all the wrong things. And they consumed it!
Gold had gotten very good at picking them out by now. The men that would be most sensitive to her beauty. She could see it in their faces, somehow, particularly when they were illuminated by the lights they carried. The gleam in their eyes would be soft and playful. A feigned innocence, Gold knew, because her mother had told her men were never truly innocent.
Boys could be innocent, Gold thought, but not men. There came a moment of passing—if you blinked you could miss it—where a boy would turn into a man. It could be a statement, or a single act that took on more responsibility than a child could shoulder. When that happened, the dark taint of manhood would come over a boy and claim him, force upon him wild and evil thoughts that women had to pay for.
Such a man passed her by now, on his beautiful black horse, with his hand extended in front of him to hold his light. Gold saw a playful spark reflected in his dark eyes and knew that she had found one. Her heartbeat rose slightly—it always did during this part—and her palms went just that little bit greasy from the sweat.
With a voice so magical that it could have shipwrecked any sailor she called out, “Oh, sir! Won’t you please spare a moment for me?”
The man stopped the horse dead in its tracks and turned his light to the left, where the voice had come from. He saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
“My dear! What are you doing out here in the lone dark?”
With a swift movement he jumped off his horse and walked toward her, his light so far extended in front of him that he could see her even better.
When he looked into her deep blue eyes he was lost. It wasn’t the perfect blonde hair, or her length that almost rivaled his own. It wasn’t even her ample bosom that rose slightly with every heavy breath she took. It was those eyes that drilled into his chest and touched whatever lump of a heart he had beating there. Grasped it, squeezed it tightly, and held it in a warm but steadfast grip.
He was her hostage then and whatever her magic voice said would forever be his command.
Gold stepped forward and reached for his empty hand. She pulled him close to her as she whispered, “I know a place. Won’t you join me at my beautiful place?”
She rubbed against him for good measure, though she knew she already had him. As she did so she felt the rough stubble on his chin against her cheek and smelled the fresh sweat of his labor. It aroused her.
Gold turned around and, with his hand still in hers, guided him deeper into the woods. Accompanied by his light, she found her way back to her sandy trail in no time and turned right.
“Just follow me,” she said to him in her sweetest voice.
Experience had taught her that the spell of her beauty could sometimes be broken, but not if she occasionally blew warm words from her lips. Sometimes the men spoke back, but not this one. This one was so caught up in the prison of her beauty that he would have followed her to the end of the world and back again. Gold felt flattered by his unsaid devotion.
The sandy trail led them to the sacred place Mother had shown Gold and her sisters when they were children. It was where the pines refused to grow and only thin foliage graced the edge of a big, open field. In the middle of that field stood a mighty oak that towered over all that dared to approach it.
For a moment the man behind her hesitated as Gold stepped onto the field. The sweet nothings she whispered to him eased his mind.
He was such a good, brave man. And she needed him. Needed his presence. Needed his warmth. His hands on her soft skin. His lips on her fragile neck. Wouldn’t he please love her? And protect her? Keep her safe from all the evil that haunted this terrible, terrible new world?
And he would, so he followed her all the way to the dark, terrible oak that sent shivers down his spine. Even in his current trance he was aware of the tree’s deep and dark power.
Gold took the light he kept in his free hand and put it on the grass. Then she pulled his shoulders so he stood directly parallel to the oak, with his right side toward it. This was how Black wanted it; said it was easiest.
Gently she caressed his stubbly cheek and just when he leaned in to kiss her an arrow flew from the side of the field and pierced his throat. His blood splattered all over Gold’s face.
The man’s eyes grew as his knees faltered and, reaching out to the last beauty he would ever see, he fell forward. Gold quietly thanked him for his final adoration.
From the side of the field sounded Black’s excited roar. “I got him! Did you see that?! With one shot!” She howled like a rabid wolf into the darkness of the night.
Gold turned and watched as her family entered the field. The excited Black was in the lead, followed by Red and her mother carrying the wood.
Black jumped toward Gold and grabbed her face. “Let me taste him!” She licked the blood off Gold’s cheek. “Pretty good!”
Gold pushed her away as she said, “Black! Control yourself. There’s an entire body left for us!”
Red and her mother built a fire as Black went to work on the body.
Cutting him up so they could roast the good pieces, Black could barely contain her excitement. “You got a good one, Gold! He’s good! Good meat on him!”
Gold was happy her sister was happy but she paid her no visible mind. She was more interested in the whispers of the oak that graced her soul with its presence. It told her of the stars and the moon, and their beautiful but chaotic dance. Existence was about destruction, about the fire that burned in the hearts and minds of all that lived. It was a dance, the oak told her, that would never end. She and her sisters were the most beautiful piece of music it had ever heard.
Their campfire burned and on it they roasted the man’s delicious meat. Gnawing away at his flesh, the women sat in perfect silence, listening to the oak’s hymn running endlessly through their heads. They focused only on the man’s skin between their teeth and the rhythm of a night that promised them it would never end.
Gold closed her eyes and relished the scent of the meat roasting on the fire. Only Black had said so, but she knew she had done a good job. Red never praised her, but she could tell her sister was enjoying the meat as much as she was. Her mother, too, looked quietly pleased.