Wolf Blade: A Sword and Sorcery Fantasy Harem

by Marco Frazetta

  “You’re brave men,” Kyra said, a hint of an apology in her voice.

  “And we were also stupid. The men at Breg’s Mill couldn’t hold the Orcs. They were too many, and too savage—crazed even more than Orcs are to be. Those of us fighting in the forest found ourselves suddenly fighting Orcs on two sides. We were being chopped down as old trees, and we had to light the oil traps before we had planned. We managed to light about half of them, but by then the battle was chaos. The forest went on burning, but because we had not lit all of them, it was not enough to entrap the Orcs. The forest became a hell of fighting and burning, both sides getting caught in the fires as well as each other’s blades. If I were truly courageous… I would have died alongside the rest of our men. But I was cut off from the fighting by fire. Both Orcs and men began fleeing once the fire became too great to move through. So I found what living men I could, and we made what retreat we could. Even so, some of us were too wounded to make it back.”

  “That sounds like terrible fighting,” Kyra said, “but could there be some men still in the forest? Trapped or wounded perhaps?”

  “There are many men still in the forest. They are either bloody dead or charred dead.”

  “Some could have lived.” Kyra’s mouth went taut. “Couldn’t they? Some must have.”

  The soldier shrugged. “I suppose they might have. If they did, make sure they go down to Kenessos and gamble all they own, because they sure must have a hell’s worth of luck on their side.”

  The mention of Kenessos made me glance at Bellabel and recall five long years. I turned to the soldier. “We have heard that these Orcs fight for one of their kind who goes by Ghazrak Thousand Fangs. Was he among the fighting?”

  “I heard he was. He was supposed to have led the Orc force that broke through our defenses at Breg’s Mill.”

  “Did you see him with your own eyes?”

  The soldier’s eyes shifted uneasily. “I can’t say for certain. But I heard some of the Orcs in the fighting chanting some dreadful thing. ‘Tisik Tesaki’ I think it was, which in their tongue I’m told means, ‘Serve Thousand Fangs’ or some such. So that would hold true to what you claim. As for seeing him with my own eyes… in the fighting and the fires there was a silhouette of a great Orc with armor that is not normal for them, thick heavy plate from head to foot, surrounded by other Orc’s in similar plating. It seemed like all the Orcs around him were fearless. The fires and the fighting made everything to chaos, and I cannot say whether that Orc I saw was truly their warchief. At the time gathering information was not my concern.”

  “No one can blame you,” I said.

  “I can’t ask the three of you to follow me into that burning forest,” Kyra said. She looked to me and our two other companions. “But I must go searching in that fire, even if it means my death.” She motioned to begin galloping off toward the rising black smoke. I held my arm out to stop her.

  “Hold,” I said. I glanced to Bellabel and back to Kyra. “There might be a way through the fire.”

  As we neared the forest the smoke became heavier and heavier. We had left our mounts back in Nevolruud, as the burning forest was not something they could deal with. We moved on foot now, stepping over fallen trees and branches. Walls of fire loomed larger and larger. As we neared the true forest blaze I motioned for Bellabel to come near me.

  “I need you to move the fire. You parted the wizard’s fire in Kenessos, this should be no different.”

  She glanced back at the other two. “But they will see.”

  “I know you’re used to keeping this a secret. But here you need not fear. You are not surrounded by people trying to exploit you and use you for their purposes. I am here to protect you, and while those two have their quirks, they are both trustworthy.”

  She nodded. “I follow your word.” She neared the wall of fire, reached out and began parting it aside as if it were tall grasses rather than a roaring blaze.

  “By Thrawn’s sandals!” Quistainn exclaimed.

  “It’s alright, Quistainn,” I said. “Your god has his domain, hers has his. And we’re walking into it.”

  We took careful steps over blackened wood. There was a great fog of smoke all around us. My feet left heavy prints on the gray ash. Kyra and Quistainn began coughing.

  “Even if we do get through the fire,” Bellabel said as she cleared yet another curtain of flame, “this smoke might harm the rest of you. Paladin, my god will protect us from the flames themselves, and he will protect me from any harm from the smoke or heat. Can your god protect your breath from the smoke?”

  “My god can do all things. But I do not know if he will protect those of enemy gods.”

  “She and I will not be harmed by the smoke,” I said, trusting that the strength Fenris gave my body was enough to withstand this. “It is you and Kyra I’m concerned with.”

  “I trust in Thrawn that he will then. Come, fair maiden.” He held his hand out to Kyra, and she only raised an eyebrow and walked alongside him.

  Quistainn knelt by some charred shrubberies and he began praying. I stayed at a respectful distance and could not tell exactly what he was saying, but he seemed to be in great earnest. Suddenly a golden light gave him a faint glow all around his head, as well as Kyra’s. They returned.

  “Thrawn has granted us this boon, but only so long as my magical strength endures.”

  “Good,” I said, “we should not be too long. This is not a place we will want to linger in.”

  We kept walking, Bellabel moving fires aside, sometimes needing to really push into them as if they were a great weight, other times merely swatting them aside.

  We began seeing bodies as we ventured further into the blazing woods. In these spots the fires had died down some, and only charred black land and smoking tree charcoal remained. There were bodies strewn everywhere, Orc and man alike. Their burnt armor over their bodies made them look like giant dead insects, whole flocks of them. Here and there even some clothed limbs had survived intact, protected from the brunt of the fire by large stones or a clearing that had no fuel for the fire. For these men’s sakes, I was glad they were dead and not lingering in agony.

  We came to a stream what was nearly dry, and here too there were some bodies that remained unburned.

  Kyra frantically searched every body we came across. I had to keep us moving as she would now and then find a body and study it, though it was charred beyond recognition.

  “I will know my brothers’ bodies… should that have been their fate,” she muttered to me. “There! That helm!” She ran toward something shining. I ran after her. She knelt by some ash, and drew out a shining helm with a horse atop it.

  “Anvir….no…” Kyra’s voice broke as she stared at the helm. “He must be here then. He must have fled.” Her sobs began flowing from her throat. “He’s… he’s…”

  “Kyra,” I said and grabbed hold of her. “Calm yourself.”

  “You’re right. He might still live.” She brushed back tears. “This proves nothing. This helm was not on a body. It must have fallen from him in all the fighting.”

  I looked at the shining silver helm in her hands. There was an emblem of a blue horse carved upon it, and filled with a precious blue stone, Topaz perhaps. “Why is it not charred like all the other armor?”

  “Their helms will not burn. They are made of Star Metal. Have been in our clan for generations.”

  “Do not lose hope.”

  “I have not. My brothers are made of tougher things than their helms. If their helms survived, so did they.”

  We made our way toward the tallest fire yet. It seemed more fresh than others, as it consumed massive trees. Then the fire suddenly was swept away and withered to nothing, leaving only charred trees.

  Noise.

  A quick fleeing motion.

  My nostrils flared and my lip curled.

  Danger.

  I sensed something moving, something—a creature perhaps—though I found it strange as all c
reatures had fled the forest or perished.

  I jerked up as I thought I spotted the thing, whatever it was. I chased after it. Even without shifting to my Fenrir form, I caught up to the creature. As I neared it I saw its form more clearly. It stood on two legs and had a tail, standing about four feet tall. It was fat, near ridiculously so, toad-like, and was made of stone if I could guess. “Stop!” I yelled to it. As I came upon it, it turned and spat something at me. It was flaming spit of some kind, and it was only my enhanced quickness that let me sidestep out of the burning stream’s way. It left a great trail of searing red earth.

  My ax flashed to my hand. I charged to the creature. It hopped back, scrambling away until its back was against an enormous fallen tree trunk. Seeing it closer now, the creature was charcoal colored with glowing red spots here and there.

  It hissed at me.

  “What are you?” I asked. Something about its toad-like face told me it was sentient. “Do you speak, creature?”

  I kept my distance, shoulders tensed, watching its throat bulge and ready to spit its flames again.

  My three companions caught up to me.

  “What is it, some kind of goblin?” Kyra said as she approached and tried to get a good look at the creature.

  “No, I don’t think so.” I replied. “Keep your distance.”

  “I’ve heard of these creatures,” Quistainn said. “Fire Toads. A kind of fire elemental. More than rare in these parts.”

  “Can they speak?” I asked.

  Quistainn shrugged. “I never studied them in detail. Had never even seen one, so thought they all died out.”

  “We mean you no harm.” I said to the creature, trying to speak as clearly as possible. It hissed something back to me that was clearly spoken words. “I have heard that tongue somewhere…”

  “It’s Yrsha, an older form of Sarathean,” Bellabel said as she touched my arm, trying to get me to lower my ax. “It’s saying if you mean it no harm, why did you chase it with an ax.”

  I let my arms relax. “Tell him I thought he might be an Orc or perhaps some other fell creature.” Bellabel spoke in the old tongue to him. “Does he speak common?”

  Bellabel shook her head. “No, but he understands it some.”

  “How is that possible? How could a Sarathean creature wind up all the way here?”

  Bellabel raised a hand to let her speak with the creature uninterrupted. After some back and forth Bellabel turned to me. “He says he is Smoky Wart. He is one of several of his kind that were brought here centuries ago by a wizard. They were servants to him. The wizard was killed, but Smoky Wart and several of his kind survived. However, they were stranded here in this cold land. They feed on fire, and go dormant when they have nothing to eat, become only stones. They woke when this forest fire broke out and gorged themselves as if they hadn’t eaten in a century… which they actually hadn’t.” I looked in confusion to Quistainn and Kyra as Bellabel and the creature went on talking. “He is rather embarrassed about his fat appearance from all that feeding.”

  “He must have seen some of the battle then… perhaps he saw, if my brothers… if they perhaps survived.” Kyra held her brother’s helm out to Bellabel tentatively. “Will you ask him if he saw the man who wore this helm, if he saw what happened to him?”

  Bellabel spoke to the creature and received a shake of his head as a reply. Kyra’s face fell but the creature spoke. “He says that perhaps one of his friends saw.”

  “Friends?”

  “Yes, he was one of several that are stranded here.”

  We followed this fat toad-like creature until we reached a cluster of smoldering rocks, only to find that these were the creatures themselves.

  Wart spoke to them as they all began chattering and scurrying about in alarm. Their speech sounded like water poured over red hot metal mixed with squirrel chatter.

  “He is trying to calm them,” Bellabel said. They went on talking for some time, and when Wart finally convinced the rest that we were not predators, they slowly waddled or hopped over to us, peering at us with curious interest.

  “Will you ask them about the helm,” Kyra said and Bellabel nodded.

  “One of them says he saw many men being carried off by Orcs, like pigs with their limbs bound. He says the man who wore that helm was one of them.”

  “He was alive?”

  “He is not sure.”

  “Which way did they head? Did he see?”

  “He says they headed north, following the stream, toward the side of the forest that didn’t burn. He lost sight of them after that. He was too busy feeding.”

  “Let’s go.” Kyra;s hair tossed as she turned to me. “Perhaps we can still pick up their trail.”

  “Wait,” Bellabel said, “they ask since they helped us, if we will help them leave this place. They never have enough to eat and will have to enter a long sleep again if they do not feed after some some time.”

  “We can do nothing for them now, as we must get to Kyra’s brothers, and still must track Ghazrak Thousand Fangs as well. But perhaps we can help them should we complete our quest.”

  Bellabel spoke. “Cleric, does your order of priests not tend to such things, being an order familiar with magic?”

  “Perhaps. I will speak to them when next I visit our citadel. But that will not be for some time, months perhaps.”

  “Dorgramu is a wizard,” I said, “perhaps he will help the creatures. But I cannot say how everything in Wolf Rein will turn out. Tell them we will help them should we complete our quest, either through Dorgramu or the Thrawn Priesthood. In the meantime they should keep feeding. There is still fire left and it will be of help to the town of Nevolruud if they consume the flames and stop them from consuming more of the forest. We must be on our way now.”

  Bellabel spoke and the creatures croaked in approval of the plan involving them feeding.

  We hurried along the stream heading north, as the Fire Toads had related the Orcs had traveled. Kyra and I did our best to pick up their tracks. The lingering fire and ash made it difficult, even for my enhanced senses, but after some time we found it.

  “See here,” Kyra said as she crouched down to some grasses. You can tell these grasses were bent by something heavy, and more importantly, something hard. And there are small bits of ash that the footfalls left, meaning they had come out from the part of the forest that was burning. Look how many of them there are.”

  “Aye,” I said, “a warband made their way through here. Come, as we follow their trail, it will lead out of the forest and perhaps I will be able to pick up their scent.

  15

  “There,” Kyra whispered as we perched on a stone bluff, our bellies to the ground. She pointed to a cave mouth that was in the canyon below. We had hurried, pressed on running with everything we had. The three of them took sips of the stamina potion Dorgramu had given us, to keep them on their feet all through the night and all through the next day. As for me, the strength Fenris had given me sustained me.

  We had made such haste over an entire day and night of running that we were now staring down a canyon where a trail of Orcs was moving with some human prisoners in their midst.

  “If we separate the Orcs with the prisoners away from the rest of the warband, we can release them and make for an escape,” I said.

  “I want to be in the thick of the fighting,” Kyra said.

  I stared down at the canyon. “The prisoners are being carried near the back of the column, so I will drop down just ahead of them and create chaos in the center, cutting off the back tail of the column from the rest. Bellabel, you stay in the rocks above me, and rain down fire on the Orcs, but do not come down to the trail itself.” She nodded to me. “Quistainn, Kyra, you two attack the rear and make your way toward the prisoners. Once you have released them, I will go on fighting and buy you as much time as you need.”

  I felt a surge of battle lust begin brewing in me. It was becoming easier to summon the beast at will. I felt him i
nside my body and mind, lurking there in the shadows of my being, like a shark stirring in shallow water. Within moments I had summoned the wolf, and was transformed.

  “Come Bellabel, I will be like a horse to you,” I muttered under my breath and crouched in front of her. She straddled my back like a child being carried by a father, her arms around my neck and legs spread over my back.

  I clenched my ax in my massive wolf jaws, and began stalking down the stones of the canyon.

  I reached a spot I felt was safe enough from the trail of Orcs itself, but near enough that she could reach the Orc column with her fire. I stopped and motioned for her to slide off me. Silence hung over the two of us, but below I could hear the Orcs’ noise, their armor rattling as they stomped through the canyon, their gruff speech something between grunts and growls to one another.

  A piercing howl rang from my throat as I fell on them.

  Soaring through the air, my grip squeezed the metal wrapped haft of my great ax and then loosed it in a flashing arch.

  A helmed Orc barely saw me descending on him before the ax blade split his head in two, separating his face at the nose, his jaw twisting in a queer angle as it collapsed under the force of the blow.