Wolf Blade: A Sword and Sorcery Fantasy Harem

by Marco Frazetta

  “But there hasn’t been an Orc horde that large since…”

  “Since our fathers’ lifetimes at least,’” Kyra said, “even our fathers’ fathers’.”

  “We can’t let that horde assemble. If we can keep Ghazrak from reaching it, it’ll break their morale,” I said, “They are Orcs. They have to band together under a leader or they fall to infighting and chaos.”

  “Right,” Anvir agreed.

  “If we can intercept Ghazrak before he reaches the gathering horde in the far north—”

  “We can keep them from invading,” Kyra said.

  “And it will buy time,” Anvir said, “letting the other jarls and the king assemble a proper force so they can scatter the Orcs completely once their leader is gone.”

  “But my vow keeps me from enlisting the help of Wolf Rein men,” I said. “I swore it upon my honor.”

  “To hell with your honor!” Kyra yelled. “This isn’t about your honor or about you marrying that pretty girl in the pretty dress, or about anything. If that horde comes down on us… there’ll be fields of skulls instead of fields of snow in the North.”

  “You speak true,” I said, though in my mind I was already searching for a way to hold my vow after all. “This is what we must do then,” I said. “How many men were back in Nevolruud?” I asked Kyra.

  “Three hundred about. But some half of them were too wounded to fight.”

  “We’ll have to find more. Are there any other places where we might gather fighting men?”

  “There are small settlements north of Nevolruud,” Anvir said, “Bigorstead, Ox Yoke, Icy Bend. I reckon we can find four dozen men, perhaps five. All other cities or fortifications are too far. We’ll have to push and travel as hard as we can as it is.”

  “You speak true,” I said. “Come, we have no time to lose.”

  We made our way back toward the Lantern Forest, foraging along the way. With my heightened senses and Kyra’s knowledge of the the prey here, we hunted enough. The men were hardened soldiers and knew how to forage for berries, roots, tubers, fish. Fresh water was in abundance.

  As we moved, the men regained their strength, their jaws hardening once again, their backs straightening. They were free once more and had a purpose. We entered the Lantern Forest, and the fire had completely died down. Most of it was all black charred wood and gray ash, but at least it was no longer burning.

  “Do not forget our promise to Wart and his kin,” Quistainn reminded me.

  “I have not.”

  “We have no time for that!” Kyra said.

  “We made time for your brothers,” I said, “we’ll make time for Wart and his kin. Besides, they proved useful. They were the ones who led us to your brothers and the rest of the captives. Perhaps they may be of more use still.”

  As we made our way through the forest, I had Bellabel call out in the old Sarathean tongue. The fire creatures came eventually, their stony limbs creeping out from behind fallen tree trunks and large stones. They were more cautious as they saw that we numbered some twenty humans now. But the biggest change was that they had grown immensely.

  “They’re thrice the size as before!” Quistainn said.

  “Aye,” I said, looking at Wart, who had once been the size of a dog but now was more the size of a great razorback boar. Stony spikes had grown all along the ridge of his back, and a fiery red substance glowed brighter in spots on his charcoal skin. “What has happened to them, Bellabel?”

  My Sarathean concubine spoke with the creatures. “They say they have grow even more because of how much they have fed. They ate the entire forest fire.”

  I nodded. “That is good I suppose. Tell them to follow us and to not be afraid.”

  The creatures kept their distance from the released prisoners, but followed, and we made haste through the charred forest. As we went the creatures fed on small remnants here and there, and this was a great help as it finally extinguished the last of the fire that had been raging for days now.

  We emerged on the other side of the Lantern Forest.

  “Bellabel, ask Wart and his brethren to wait for us here at the edge of the forest. I do not want to alarm the town.”

  We walked through the town’s central road, amidst the wooden buildings flanking it on either side. The former captives and the recovering soldiers greeted each other, surprise on both sides that they had made it out of the hell the forest battle had descended into.

  “Soldiers of Skald!” I shouted, raising my hand to the air. “Soldiers of Skald!” They began gathering around me, eager to see what all the commotion was about, to hear how we had rescued the captives and made it out alive through the Lantern Forest.

  “Soldiers of Skald!” I said once more as I stood before them. “You have bled, and you’ve burned. And now I’m asking you… to bleed and to burn once more.”

  A ripple of confusion went through the captives who had made it back to Nevolruud and the ones who had been tending their wounds there from the last battle.

  “You wounded Ghazrak’s forces greatly in the forest. Had you not fought as you did, he would have pressed south and west with the force he had. Perhaps he would have gone onto my home of Wolf Rein. I am grateful to all of you for your valor and your deeds. But such was our ill fate, Ghazrak survived the forest, and there is another force waiting for him in Jarkandur. This horde will be even greater than the one that entered the forest, some 100,000, it is said.”

  A ripple of astonishment went through them.

  “But if we can draw on the last of our strength, fight to the last man, march and ride until our legs can’t go further, we can stop them. We can reach Ghazrak before he joins that ungodly horde in the far north. All I ask of you is that you buy me time. Engage his horde just enough that I can cut my way to Ghazrak. I give you my word, I will slay him or die. I would not ask you all to lay down your lives without being willing to lay down my own.”

  The men looked back in shock at what I was asking them. Then one of them spoke, a gray stubbled man with curly hair. He held up a blackened stump where his left hand should be. “If this invasion is coming, I would rather go back to Alfheim, and see to my family and my kin. I have already given a hand defending Ironrise, and it’s not even my home Jarldom! Fact an Ironriser killed a cousin of mine over a mule. And now I’ve given a hand for them. King Albrecht has thousands of men at his command. Let him deal with Ghazrak and his horde!” Many men nodded in agreement.

  “We are the thousands of men at his command!” I looked as many of these men in the eye as I could. “We are not the Empire that has large standing armies, paid in gold by the month. The King has a small royal force, but since the first kings Skald has been defended by its common men, men from every Jarldom setting aside their differences and banding together. Some of you are Wolf Rein men, some of you are from Goldwater, some from Alfheim, some Ironrisers, a few of you even hail from Jarkandur. But right now, we must all be Skaldeans. Yes, many of us will perish, but we can stop thousands upon thousands more from the same fate. Is this not what separates us from other men of other lands? That we are fearless in battle! That rather than cower from long odds we run toward them because we thirst for honor and glory! Now I ask you, are you still the same Northmen as our fathers were? Will you all fight beside me?”

  There was a long silence.

  “Who are you to lead us?” a voice called out. It was a man with a chainmail hauberk, a ragged tunic underneath and shaggy, ill kempt hair. “You’re not the king. You’re not a general. You’re not even a Hammer of one of the Jarls.”

  “I am the son of Gustaff, Hammer of Wolf Rein!” I replied in frustration.

  “What is that to us? We’ve already burned. Given limbs, seen comrades fall.”

  “And you’ll only see more fall and lose more if that Orc horde descends down on us.”

  “I’m not fighting until I’m paid! I haven’t eaten a proper meal in weeks! And what about women?! There aren’t any whores in this town.
The few good ones ran off. Some of us are resorting to fucking pigs. But you seem to have yourself all kinds of women. Maybe we ought to take them off your hands!”

  “Try it and I’ll—” Kyra began but was silenced as she saw me drive my fist into the soldier’s gut. He wilted like a worm writhing on the ground.

  “Does anyone else want to insult my companions?”

  There was a hushed silence.

  “What’s the matter with you all? Aren't you Northerners? Aren’t you Skaldeans? Haven’t you sworn your swords to defend this land? How is it that a woman has more courage than you? How is it that this cleric and this foreigner fight more willingly for this land than you do? I know I am not the king, or a Hammer or your leader. But this moment has come upon us, and we must act. We must act! Now are you with me?”

  Most of the men began to walk off, grumbling and leering back at me. I was in utter disbelief.

  17

  “How many do we have?” I asked Kyra and her brothers as we stood by a barn on the outskirts of town.

  “Twenty eight,” Kyra said.

  “Plus the four of us,” I said, rubbing my chin.

  “No, counting us. We released fourteen captives, twelve of which are coming to fight with us. Then there were ten men among those here in Nevolruud who are willing to come chase after Ghazrak.”

  “As disappointing as these men are, at least there are ten. I thought after their reaction that they were all cowards and not a one would come fight. Then there are the men we might gather from the small settlements north of here.”

  “It’s still not enough,” Anvir said, “Rothan, even with you as a Fenrir leading us. Ghazrak still has some 1,000 Orcs with him, not to mention an elite force of some dozen Orcs in full plate, and their beastly mounts and other fell creatures. Ghazrak himself rides a monstrous spider that is worth a dozen or more skilled warriors on the field.”

  “You speak true, we’re not enough,” I spat.

  “Let the Orc bastard go then,” Tovir said, “we’ll regroup, get word to the king. They might be 100,000 Orcs up there waiting for Ghazrak to lead them down, but I bet King Albrecht can muster some 30,000 by the time they’re descending down on us.”

  “No! It has to be now. I’ll face the band of Orcs by myself if I have to, but we can’t let them link up with the force up north. Such a horde wouldn’t be a raid, it would be a full on invasion.” Tovir glanced at his twin and shrugged. “Quistainn,” I said, turning to my armored companion, his cloak protecting him from a harsh wind, “what of your brother priests? Will they not help us?”

  “I believe they would… but even if I sent a raven and convinced them to join this fight, the Northern Citadel is at least a fortnight's ride southeast of here.”

  “Ghazrak will be moving north even as we speak.”

  “Precisely,” Quistainn said, and turned his eyes down in disappointment.

  “Well…” Tovir began, “as the great general Firebeard once said: I think we’re fucked.”

  “There has to be a way.”

  “Rothan,” Bellabel said, “I know of some allies.”

  “Who?”

  “The Fire Toads, from the Lantern Forest.”

  “But they’re just… toads.”

  “They are fire elementals who spit fire and have no love for Orcs.”

  “Perhaps she’s right,” Quistainn mused, “Rothan, we really must take every last soldier… or creature we can find.”

  “Very well then, we have a few more… allies. Tovir, Anvir, I want you to make sure all the men who are coming with us are armed as best they can, with mounts at the ready. We leave in an hour.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Kyra said, “I know some of the men here are not willing to fight, nor will anything make them willing, but there are many who just needed a bit more to convince them. I saw it in their eyes.”

  “What more do they need? Their land and kin will be destroyed if they do not act!”

  “They need to believe they might not ride to their deaths. Or that if they do ride to their deaths, that you have a chance at defeating Ghazrak at least. You asked them, one man to another. Only as a man to another.”

  I looked to her and understood.

  The muscles of my warhorse glistened as I rode at the head of our warband. The men behind me had washed themselves, donned new clothing and armor, were armed once again. Tovir and Anvir looked like true Wolf Rein warriors once more. Anvir wore mostly padded leather armor with studded shoulder plates and a chainmail kilt, as well as lobstered gauntlets. Tovir wore half-armor similar to myself, with a shoulder plate that was fashioned into his symbol, the bear.

  Kyra carried a banner which she had found in town, a banner of Wolf Rein. It fluttered above us, and the men took it as a sign, that the oldest god of the north was with us.

  We rode a warband of some thirty, with five Fire Toad creatures in our midst, hopping along at the end of the column.

  The clamor of hooves and armor came to a halt as I raised my hand to the rest of my troops behind me. My mount snorted and paced impatiently, sensing that we were riding off to battle and eager for it. I had paused in front of the tavern where the men gathered outside, tending to their wounds and drinking like frightened cats.

  “Oh look everyone, it’s the great general, son of the Hammer of Wolf Rein.” It was the same bulgy eyed man from Goldwater who I had crumpled in two. “So tell us, if you’re the son of the Hammer, does that make you the Nail?” Men around him chuckled. “Because one thing’s for sure, Ghazrak Thousand Fangs is gonna hammer you into a grave, you and anyone stupid enough to ride along with you.”

  Apparently, he hadn’t had enough. But I had no time to waste on him.

  “Skaldeans,” I yelled out, loud enough that the whole town could hear. “We ride off to battle. Thirty against a thousand and all the fell creatures of this Ghazrak Thousand Fangs. It’s true, many of us will perish. Many of us will die.” The rage of seeing good men cower like this began pulling at my beast. “When you all went into that forest to fight, there were many banners. Ironrise banners, Goldwater banners, Alfheim banners. Yet they all fell, and were lost.” I felt my fangs curving out from my mouth as I shouted, felt my arms thickening with strength, the itch of fur beginning to push through my skin.

  Murmurs of those closest to me began rippling through the crowd of men.

  “But one banner lived through the chaos and the flames. One banner that marched here remains. The banner of Wolf Rein!” Saying this, I felt the bones in my face contort, felt a great snout begin protruding, a wetness in my nose. “If you do not take this for a sign that our oldest god is with us, then take me for a sign!” The crowd of men were standing now, some in utter bewilderment, some in fear, some in exultation. “I have seen the great wolf with my own eyes. He has given me his blood. And I tell you, he can give us victory! Now come, have honor again! Be Northmen again, come hunger for battle as wolves hunger for prey!”

  All the men were standing now, and a great cheer rose out from them. Shouts of “Fenris! Skald! The North!” all rang out from them, and there was a great clamor as they clinked mugs and hoisted weapons.

  18

  We rode, now near a hundred of us, the hooves of our warhorses stampeding across the great fields that hugged the western border of the Lantern Forest. Some men were too injured or sick to fight—but many of them gave up their armor, weapons, and mounts to those who could, something I promised Wolf Rein would recompense them for, as this was a soldier’s livelihood. Others still refused to fight—and for these men there would be a great place in the six hells waiting for them, I imagined. Still, we had grown the size of our force my magnitudes. And as we rode through the small settlements, we picked up still more men eager for battle. Angstrom the Smith, Mikk the farmer, Bosro the tanner, and some five dozen others—all common men, but proud, fierce Northern warriors. I felt the strength of Fenris churning inside me, could hardly stay on my mount as I wanted to run as wolves do, charging
again with my legs flickering along the ground. Kyra rode next to me, the banner of Wolf Rein fluttering along with her hair. Men had begun calling her the she-wolf as they sensed she knew no fear.

  As we pressed on through hills and woodlands, the beast in me receded, and I was a man once more. I rallied my close companions around me for a moment, asked for the map. We laid it out and stared at it by the fire.

  “We are here, are we not?” I said as I pointed to a spot on the map.

  “Right,” Kyra said, “north of the Lantern Forest, west of the Ironrise mountains.”

  “Tovir, Anvir,” I said, “where do you think Ghazrak is now?”

  “I can’t say for certain,” Anvir answered, “but the warband could not have moved so quickly. They must feed as they go, and they carry war machines with them, the ones they used to lay siege to the Anvil Keep. I would guess they are somewhere here,” he pointed to a swath of land between where we were and the northern curve of the Osko river. “Such a large force, with machinery and mounts must cross at one of the main river fords. And if they are making haste then they must cross the river at one of these spots: the Wailing Ford, the Snake Ford, or the Skullgrave Cross.”

  “Then we must intercept them there. At the fording of the river. If we can catch them unawares, just as they are fording, their forces will be completely unprepared. And they’ll be divided, some on this side, some on that side.

  “To time things just right, we will need scouts,” Anvir said.

  “We have the perfect scout.” I grinned.

  “Who?” Anvir’s eyes quirked.

  “Me.”