Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf

by A. E. McCullough

  I remember walking to the edge of our camp; I wasn’t sure why but the song of the wolves didn’t frighten me at all. Something in the song pulled at my inner being, at my very soul, stirring deep emotions that must have lain dormant since the beginning of time. I felt the urge to rip off my clothes, sprint into the darkness to join the pack and howl at the moon.

  As a pair of milky white hands gently touched my shoulders, a light musical voice broke my reverie. “Beloved sister, what is it? You seem so sad. Is there anything amiss?”

  Turning to face my eldest brother, I couldn’t help but notice that even in the weak firelight his hair still radiated a shimmering blue. The delicate features of his face, normally bright and shiny with happiness, were dark and overcast with concern. Shaking my head, I said, “It is nothing Khlekluëllin. The song of the wolves just sounds so sad. It is like they’re mourning the loss of someone dear to them.”

  Reaching out, Khlekluëllin gently pushed a few stray locks of my crimson hair behind my ears. “You might be right but only the wolves and the Moon Goddess know what their song really means.”

  A deeper voice broke in.

  “You both are crazy. The wolves are just stupid beasts that howl at the moon because it’s there. They know nothing of Luna or any other god.” A handsome elf with jet-black hair stepped into the firelight. Dressed all in black, my brother glided across the clearing with the grace of a panther.

  Frowning, I snapped at him.

  “Mortharona, you don’t know if that is true or not. There are more things in this world other than the Elven Empire and I seriously doubt that wolves are just stupid beasts, as you call them!”

  Folding my arms, I fixed him with an intense stare.

  Laughing slightly, Mortharona gave in. “That’s very possible sister! You’re right, I don’t know if they are stupid or not but I still think you give them too much credit for why they sing to the moon.”

  I was about to say something more when two figures walked into the radius of our campfire. One was my father; a tall, regal looking elf, dressed in his customarily blue traveling cloak. The other was Stamm Grimaxe; a squat, muscular dwarf with a waist long yellow beard dressed in a shiny chain mail vest. My father seemed the younger of the two, looking to only be in his early thirties but his eyes told a different story. At first glance his crystal blue eyes seemed bright and young but if one stared into them for long, a profound wisdom and sadness could be seen.

  My father called out to us. “Come my children, Stamm has a story you should hear.”

  We glanced at each other, slightly confused but we joined them at the fire and sat down.

  Absentmindedly stroking his thick yellow beard with his left hand, Stamm stared into the heart of the fire. That’s when we noticed for the first time that he was missing two fingers from his left hand. When he spoke, his voice was a great contrast to the musical tones of my family; it was a deep baritone and rough.

  “Tomorrow we will reach the Halls of Haldar also known as the Fortress of the Black Falls. It is a very dangerous and foreboding place. I have been there before and I have very bad memories of my last visit.” He cast a quick glance at my father. “Prince Corwin are you sure you want to enter that accursed place with such a small party?”

  My father nodded slowly. “We have no other choice my friend. The fate of Terreth could hang in the balance.”

  We were even more confused but didn’t say anything. My brothers and I knew all would be made clear soon, we hoped.

  Stamm shook his head as if to free it from bad memories. Reaching into a vest pocket and pulling forth a black leather pouch, he proceeded to fill his cherry wood pipe before lighting it with a small coal from the campfire. Taking several deep drags, Stamm began his story.

  “Several decades ago my cousin, King Padric Grimaxe of Darkmoor, sent a small expedition to the Halls of Haldar with one simple quest; we were to search for the lost vault of Haldar.”

  Scratching his beard, Stamm looked at my brothers and me. “You see, Haldar Darkmoor was the greatest warrior of my people and originally built this fortress. Legends tell of his mighty exploits at the great battle on the ‘Day of Sorrows’ when he fought alongside of Bromios the God of Thunder the father of the dwarves against the evil Arachne. After the battle Bromios rewarded Haldar’s bravery with a mighty axe that had the magical properties of thunder and lightning. Haldar named this axe Taranis, which means ‘sky fire’ in my ancient tongue. There are many legends of his deeds and battles but there is one legend that concerns our two nations.”

  Pausing he took a few puffs from his pipe blowing several smoke rings before continuing.

  “When Haldar was getting older and weary of traveling he built a mighty fortress. Haldar wanted to overlook the land he had spent his life saving but he didn’t want just a small keep. He wanted the mightiest fortress in Dwarven history. And that’s what he got, dwarves, men and elves from all across Terreth came to help construct his fortress.”

  Stamm’s eyes flashed with excitement as he talked about Haldar and the mighty fortress.

  “It is one of the greatest accomplishments of my people. Even before it was finished, it had become the center of trade for my people and stayed that way for nearly a century. Haldar even designed a great vault to store his vast treasure. In it he placed ‘Taranis’, all of his gold, jewels and many books. For Haldar loved to read, it was his passion. He kept a journal of all his exploits and gathered books and scrolls from all across Terreth.”

  Corwin interrupted. “This is why we came all this way, my children, the vault of Haldar. Somewhere inside it are stored the legendary scrolls of Eldath.”

  Khlekluëllin asked, “Wasn’t he an ancestor of ours?”

  Corwin nodded his head. “Yes. He was my great uncle. His ‘Birth Gift’ was the ability of prophecy which he used to aid those in trouble. However, due to his nature of prophesying only gloom, death and destruction the queen gave him the surname of Amarth that we still carry today; which of course, in the ancient tongue of our ancestors translates to ‘Doom’. Although many elves shunned him, Eldath knew it was his destiny to record his visions. So, he created what we now know as the ‘Prophecies of Eldath.’ I have searched all of the libraries in Elfholm but none of them contain the actual scrolls just a few incomplete copies. However, legends point to the vault of Haldar as the final resting-place of these scared scrolls. Eldath and Haldar were companions in the elder days.”

  Stamm nodded. “Yes my friends. There are great many records stored in Haldar’s vault but getting to the actual vault will be very difficult. The jotens control the land around the fortress. If we do get past them, we still have to find the vault, get past the traps, both magical and mundane, and then escape.”

  Everyone was silent for several minutes. Corwin stared into the fire. Stamm was watching the spiraling path of several smoke rings and I was meditating on what I had just heard while Mortharona poked at the fire with a long stick.

  Finally, Khlekluëllin broke the silence. “Stamm, what happened to the dwarven expedition that your King sent in several decades ago?”

  Tapping out his pipe on his left boot, Stamm replaced it in his vest and stroked his beard. “That is a very good question my young friend, a very good question indeed.”

  Everyone leaned forward, eagerly waiting to hear his story. Leaning back against a log, Stamm looked to the heavens and stared at the nearly full moon. His left hand continued to stroke his beard, as his right hand unconsciously gripped the hilt of his short sword.

  “I was still a young lad when my King sent that expedition to explore the fortress. It consisted of fifty well-seasoned warriors and the leader was my eldest brother Edric. He was a brave and cunning warrior. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful midsummer’s day. The sun was out and a slight breeze was coming over the falls to the south. We were in high spirits as Edric left twenty of us, mostly the young warriors, as a reserve on the hill that overlooks the fortress. W
e were to guard the base camp and cover their retreat just in case something bad happened. Well, something bad must have happened. Edric and thirty of my kinsman went into the fortress at dawn and never returned.”

  He looked each of us square in the eyes before continuing. His dark brown eyes showed the grief and pain of the memories. “There was never a sign of trouble. Not a cry, nor sounds of clashing weapons, nothing. It was like the fortress just swallowed them whole. We waited and kept watch all day and deep into the night. We had planned on entering the fortress ourselves the following dawn but we never got the chance.”

  Quickly and smoothly Stamm drew his short sword, my brothers and I jumped back slightly at his sudden move. Stamm ignored us; he was caught up in the memory.

  “Just before dawn when the night is the darkest, we were attacked. Large rocks came hurling in from all directions, Jotens. They had us surrounded. Several of my friends were crushed in that first volley. Reacting quickly, we formed a phalanx and held our shields above our heads and charged their lines. The fighting was intense, many died when our two lines crossed. We tried to drive west toward our homeland but there were too many. We were forced back time and time again. Finally, we were forced all the way back to the river and to the edge of the falls. By this time, there were only five of us left, all injured. They closed quickly, laughing and joking. We knew our death was near.”

  Tears filled his eyes at the memory but he ignored them and continued with his story. “The five of us looked at the gathered jotens. There must have been thirty or forty of them. Then we looked at the falls. We knew there was no chance of survival against that many one-eyes. With a silent agreement, we jumped.”

  I gasped at the thought of jumping from the top of the Black Falls. I had been to the bottom of the falls in my youth. I had never heard of anyone surviving a jump from the top of the falls. Many had died jumping from ledges halfway up the falls. I looked on with disbelief, so did my brothers.

  Noticing our looks, Stamm just smiled and chuckled slightly. “I assure you it was not my first choice and it is not something I would like to do again. But I did jump, along with four of my friends. However only two of us survived the actual jump and we would have died right there, if not for the immediate assistance of some humans. Some monks were fishing in the great pool when we landed. They pulled us out and took us to their monastery and tended our wounds.”

  Pulling up his pants, Stamm revealed several large scars running up and down his legs. “I broke both of my legs, the bones shattering and splintering on impact with the water, sending shards of bones through my leather pants.” Tapping his right arm and ribs, “I broke my arm and several ribs.” Holding out his left hand, “I also lost two fingers in the battle before I jumped. The other dwarf who survived the jump with me had similar wounds but got an infection which spread into his lungs and he died.”

  Sheathing his sword, Stamm continued. “It was almost a year after we had jumped before I was able to return to my homeland to report what had happened. Since then, none of my people have dared venture anywhere near the fortress. I have a burning desire to find out what happened to my brother and avenge his death if possible. So, now you know my story and my desire for this mission.”

  We glanced at each other for a moment, before my father spoke again. “Well, now you know our mission and our goal. We also know a little about some of the dangers we might face. I think it is time to turn in for the night and get some rest. Reflect on what you have learned here tonight, it could possibly save your life over the next few days.” Rising quietly, he walked out of the firelight.

  Stamm followed a moment later. But just before he left the edge of the firelight, he turned back and spoke quietly. “There must be more than cyclops in the fortress. Even a hundred one-eyes would be hard pressed against thirty well-armed and well-seasoned dwarven warriors, especially in the close quarters of the fortress. Keep that in mind as you listen to the song of the wolves and think of tomorrow.”

  Turning away, he left us alone with our thoughts.

  * * * * *

  Tatianna paused. Her eyes were filled with tears at the painful memories. Hawkeye began to walk over to her but a stern glance from Red Crow stopped him in his tracks.

  Standing slowly, the old chieftain walked over to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s painful but the best way to honor their memory is to tell their story. That way, they will never truly die. Their memory will live on long past you and me.”

  Looking deep into his brown eyes, Tatianna saw pain and concern there, but also great wisdom. She found herself thinking, ‘If the eyes are the windows to the soul then here is a kind and gentle soul that has seen much pain in its life.’

  She flashed him a weak smile. “Thank you. I will try.”

  “Take your time. We have all night.” Red Crow moved back to his seat while a young brave brought her a log to sit on and a clay pot of water.

  Taking a long drink, she sat down and after a few moments she continued her story.

  * * * * *

  “The next morning we crested the rocky ridge and found ourselves overlooking a vast valley with a large river cutting through the barren landscape until it poured over the cliff with a thunderous roar. Our eyes were unwillingly drawn to the imposing and ominous looking fortress that was situated on a rocky island in the middle of the river only several hundred yards from the falls. Built in a diamond shape with five towers and made entirely of smooth black stones, it didn’t reflect any light. Rather, it seemed to absorb the light from the surrounding area making the fortress seem as if it were made of shadows instead of stones. Dark rain clouds hung over the fortress giving it an even more ominous look. No movement other than a few dozen crows could be seen anywhere in the dreary valley.

  The largest tower of the fortress was directly opposite of the only gate and was taller than any tree I had ever seen and commanded a great view of the landscape. The two side towers were about half the height of the main tower and situated across from each other. On the top of each tower were two ballistae and a catapult.

  From our vantage point, we couldn’t tell if the siege equipment was in working order or not. Two small towers that probably housed the controls for the main drawbridge guarded the only visible entrance into the fortress. The drawbridge, which was down, lead to a smaller rocky island that was within a stone’s throw of the falls. Situated in the center of some very rough rapids, its garrison had two drawbridges that were also down and ran to each side of the river.

  Mortharona was the first to break the silence. “My, what a lovely place.”

  I snapped at him. “You would like this dismal place. I don’t like the looks of this at all!”

  Feigning a wound to the heart, Mortharona snickered silently. Turning my attention back to the fortress a strong gust of wind came off the falls spraying the party with a fine mist.

  Barely audible above the wind, I heard Stamm say, “Brother, I have returned as promised those many years ago and by the beard of Bromios, I will not leave until you are avenged.”

  Khlekluëllin and I turned to look at Stamm who seemed not to notice anything except the dark fortress below. Khlekluëllin shot me a concerned look. I started to say something, when my father interrupted my thoughts. “We need to enter as soon as possible. It is still several hours before highsun so we need to go now.”

  Turning away from the fortress, Stamm nodded his head in agreement. “The sooner we enter the better chance we have of surviving.” He pointed at the brown grass of the surrounding valley. “When I was last here this valley was green and fertile. I’m afraid that something evil is poisoning the land.”

  My father turned to the warriors that had accompanied us. “Five of you find a suitable base camp. Keep your eyes open and remember what Stamm has told you of his last trip here. The rest of you come with us.”

  Turning toward the fortress, he moved down the hill at a quick pace with Stamm right at his heels. The other s
even warriors fell into place while Khlekluëllin, Mortharona and I lagged behind.

  Khlekluëllin advised, “Keep a close eye on Stamm. He’s out for revenge and that will make him careless.”

  I didn’t agree with him. “Of course he’s out for revenge. The jotens killed his brother but he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mission.”

  Mortharona snickered. “Sis, your naiveté is showing. Not everyone is as honorable as you are. I don’t trust Stamm any more than I would trust a spider.”

  I was angry with him for being so rude, so I turned away from him to hide my anger and embarrassment.

  Mortharona added, “Don’t worry about me; I plan to keep one eye on the dwarf at all times.” Turning, he headed down the valley after the others.

  Khlekluëllin gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “He didn’t mean to hurt you by that remark but he is right. You cannot expect everyone to have the same values and beliefs as we do. Remember that.”

  Moments later, we followed the rest of the company down the hill. Noticing that my father and the others had almost reached the first drawbridge, we had to run quickly down the trail to catch up. Reaching the drawbridge, I was last and caught up to them just as they were crossing the final drawbridge that lead into the ominous fortress. The massive oak gates were wide open and the iron portcullis was up.

  Mortharona added dryly. “It looks like they’re expecting us. I hope they have dinner ready, I’m hungry.”

  My father and Stamm flashed him a dirty look which Mortharona ignored and just continued walking. The seven elven warriors slowly drew their weapons and fell in behind.