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

by A. E. McCullough

  Lifting its head, the dragon roared in anger. The sound echoing off the cavern walls was deafening. The crowd just laughed and screamed louder. Khlekluëllin and Mortharona could see a large chain, like a leash, running from the dragon’s neck to the five jotens which held the other end.

  Turning its head, the dragon stared at the leash holders. Its eyes narrowed with an intense look of hatred as the dragon inhaled deeply. One of the jotens spoke a magical word and the chain suddenly turned bright red. Even the brothers, on the far side of the Pit, could feel the extreme heat radiating from the chain. Rearing its head back, the dragon roared in pain and a large bolt of lightning exploded into the night sky. A moment later the chain cooled down and the dragon turned its glare of hatred on the brothers.

  Speaking softly, his tone showing his nervousness, Mortharona asked, “Well brother, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into. Any ideas how to get out?”

  Khlekluëllin replied in an even tone. “Not really but it seems that the dragon doesn’t want to be here anymore than we do. I wonder if we can use that to our advantage?”

  Unfolding its wings, the dragon flapped them once and launched himself across the Pit. The cyclops gave the leashed serpent a lot of slack in the chain. Landing gracefully in the center of the Pit, the dragon roared and lifted itself onto its hind legs and started flapping its mighty wings. The sand in the bottom of the Pit suddenly became airborne and the twins found themselves in the center of an intense sandstorm. Sand tore at their exposed flesh and entered their eyes. The last thing they saw before being blinded by the sand was the sight of a very angry dragon moving towards them quickly. Knowing they were at a great disadvantage at this very moment, they both reacted quickly.

  Mortharona dove towards the far wall, where he knew the net lay empty and forgotten. Reaching it, he crawled inside and lay absolutely still.

  Khlekluëllin wasn’t so lucky. The dragon was closer to him. So, he did the last thing expected of him, he dove towards the dragon. Figuring only a fool would attack or go towards the dragon; he didn’t think that it would anticipate this move. A second later, his suspicion was confirmed as the crack of lighting struck the area he had just vacated.

  Khlekluëllin thought to himself. ‘That was close! How can I turn this to my advantage?’ He could feel the dragon-made sandstorm still raging but it seemed to be not as intense. ‘I’m sure that I’m close to the dragon, but how close? And where is he? I’ll just take a quick peek to try and get my bearings.’

  Khlekluëllin immediately regretted opening his eyes.

  Right before him, less than a foot away, was the most beautiful and terrifying sight he had ever seen. Khlekluëllin found himself nose to snout to the angry dragon. As terrifying as that was, he was overwhelmed with the intensity and beauty of the dragon’s eyes. They were the color of the sun during spring but there was also intelligence in the eyes that sparkled like the stars at night. Khlekluëllin knew that his death was before him but didn’t close his eyes again and stared back with his own blue and gold flecked eyes.

  Suddenly, Khlekluëllin heard a slight voice in his head. It was just a whisper but it was there. *I am sorry about this young elf but I have no choice. I must kill you and your brother or they will torture me again. Please forgive me.*

  Khlekluëllin replied Elvish. “I understand and I forgive you.”

  Pulling his head back quickly, in what Khlekluëllin guessed was surprise. He heard the whisper again, this time it was a little stronger. *You heard me! No one has been able to hear me in all these years! This is great!* Lifting his head straight up, the mighty dragon roared loudly. As his wings kept up the sandstorm, he lowered his head again. *Who are you young elf?*

  “I am Khlekluëllin Amarth, a Bladeweaver in the service of the Goddess Aurora, the Mistress of the Morning.”

  Each time the dragon spoke, his voice got a little stronger. *I am Halhulingrath, which translated into your tongue, would roughly mean ‘the Ice Blue Death.’ I am a loyal servant of Terra the Earthmother.*

  Taking comfort in the conversation, Khlekluëllin slowly sat up. “That is very interesting, my name when translated to the Elder Tongue, means ‘the Ice Blue Doom’. It seems that we were destined to meet some day. I am proud to have met you and would be honored to call you friend. Can I call you Hal, for short?”

  Halhulingrath cocked his head to the side in a puzzled expression. *I would like that and I would like to be your friend but I am supposed to eat you. That would tend to put a damper on our friendship.*

  Khlekluëllin nodded. “Agreed but what if we work together to escape? My brother and I can use our blades to cut you free as long as you keep up this sandstorm.”

  Hal shook his mighty head. *No blade forged by mortal hands will cut these chains. My claws and teeth are as strong as any blade and I have not been able to break them in all these years.*

  Khlekluëllin smiled. “My brother’s blade and mine are two of the legendary Swords of the Moirae; the Swords of Fate. They were forged in the dawn of time by Bromois himself and enchanted by the Sisters of Fate. They will be able to cut the chain.”

  *Do you think it will work?*

  “Do you have anything to lose?”

  *Not really. Go to work. I will keep up the ruse of our fight and find your brother.*

  Climbing onto the back of Hal, Khlekluëllin called upon the magic of his blade. “Aurora, the Grand Mistress of the Morning, please grant me the strength to sever this foul chain.”

  A moment later his blade, known as the Dawnsword, flared to life and radiated a brilliant yellow light. He immediately began hacking away at the chain. The noise of the crowd, the banging of their shields and their constant yelling, all blended together to make a terrific noise. Hal did his part too. Walking and stomping around the Pit, he continued to scream and roar or spit bolts of lightning and crack the floor of the Pit with his tail. In other words, Hal made a terrible racket.

  A few moments later, Mortharona came crawling up the back of the dragon. His face was as white as a ghost but he flashed his brother a weak smile. “You make the strangest friends.”

  Since his blade was known as the Darksword and dedicated to Hecate the Goddess of the Night, his whispered a quick prayer to her. His ancient blade began to radiate a soft black light and hum with magical power. He immediately joined his brother at hacking away at the chain. With the two of them striking the chain, the twins severed the first side of the huge chain quickly.

  Shifting to new positions on the back of the mighty dragon, the attacked the second side of the chain. They had just hit the new side of the chain a few times when it turned a bright red. Hal and Mortharona screamed in pain as the searing heat penetrated through Hal’s thick scales and the red-hot chain grazed Mortharona’s thigh. The intense heat caused Hal to drop to the ground quickly, throwing off the twins. Mortharona landed on his back hard but Khlekluëllin went into a quick roll and came up standing.

  Khlekluëllin glanced around. No one moved or spoke for a moment, even though they were visible to everyone in the cavern since Hal was no longer beating his wings and the cover of the sandstorm had faded.

  Standing slowly, Mortharona made a very rude and crude gesture toward Blackfang. The echo of Rjurik’s laughter filled the immense chamber.

  Blackfang pointed at them and yelled at the top of his lungs. “GET THEM!”

  Rushing toward the fallen dragon, Khlekluëllin hacked down on the chain one last time with all his might and the huge chain fell free. Leaping onto Hal’s back, he screamed. “Fly Hal, we’re free!”

  Feeling the immediate cooling of the chain, Hal didn’t need a second urging. Mortharona scrambled onto Hal’s neck and nearly lost his grip as the mighty dragon shot straight up into the night air. Suddenly, the air was full of arrows.

  One large object hit Hal’s tail and seemed to get lodged there. Ignoring it, Hal flew upwards while hundreds of arrows and rocks rained in all around them. None of them scored any type of a wound. A
s they flew off into the cold night air, one thought ran through each of their minds. They had escaped. They were free!

  * * * * *

  Clenching his fists in a barely controlled rage, Blackfang scowled as he watched them fly off into the cold night air. Blackfang almost jumped as two ebony hands gently caressed his left arm and back.

  “Are they away?” Lalith asked in her sweetest voice.

  Blackfang nodded. “Yes. All three escaped with the dragon, just as you planned.” Turning to look at the dark elf, “How did you know that they would be able to communicate with the dragon?”

  Lalith flashed him a timid smile. “I didn’t. Clotho did. She told me what to do; I only did as I was commanded.”

  Nodding his head, Blackfang glanced up at the empty sky. “I don’t know why I had to lose my dragon though?”

  Digging her fingernail into his back playfully, she shook her head. “What Clotho wants, she gets. Remember, ours is not to reason why but to do and die.”

  “True but I will miss that dragon. He was a challenge. I swore that one day I was going to break him and make him my mount.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I guess not.”

  Leaning up, Lalith bit him on the nape of the neck. “Come on lover. Let’s go and enjoy the rest of the night, for tomorrow you march to war.”

  Glancing down, Blackfang noticed for the first time what Lalith was wearing or what she wasn’t wearing. Dressed in a white gossamer silk gown, her ebony skin contrasted seductively with the flimsy material. Her shapely legs, firm breasts and tight body were both revealed and covered at the same time. Blackfang felt his manliness begin to rise as he quickly reached out to grab her. With a smooth sidestep, Lalith was gone. Laughing, Blackfang gave pursuit. Forgotten for the moment were his escaped prisoners. There was only the chase, his prey and the promise of a sweet reward at the end of the hunt.

  * * * * *

  Grunk watched the escaping dragon with mixed emotions. He was thrilled that they had been able to escape but saddened in the fact that it would only be a brief respite. Everything he had seen or heard since entering the enemy camp foretold the beginnings of war. And in this war, no one would truly be safe.

  Moving out of crowd, Grunk found a place to rest for the night, knowing that tomorrow would bring only death and destruction.

  Chapter 18

  On the morning of Hawkeye’s challenge, the snow had stopped falling while the wind had ceased its constant blowing. It was as if nature was waiting and watching in intense anticipation of the upcoming combat. The Tsanahwit was to take place in the wilderness surrounding the village. It was not the type of combat where you walk up and swing weapons at each other until one combatant falls. No, this was a combat of wits, skill and a sense of survival in the wild. The challenger is not allowed to leave the village until after moonrise, while the defending warlords have all day to prepare their combat sites.

  There were only three rules to the Tsanahwit; one, if the challenger falls, he must be killed. Two, the defenders must act alone and three, there are no rules.

  Hawkeye had spent the three days prior to the Tsanahwit in prayer, meditation or in the sweat lodge. Tatianna didn’t like what he had planned but she had learned to accept it, sort of.

  Late in the afternoon on the day of the challenge, she went to see Anasazi. Knocking on the totem pole in front of the medicine lodge, she waited until a young shaman led her in. The ancient shaman was seated cross-legged before a roaring fire. Staring deep into the heart of the fire, he seemed to be in a trance and didn’t show any signs that he knew she was there. Waiting patiently for several minutes, she gently cleared her throat.

  Blinking his eyes, Anasazi came out of his trance. “Greetings Red Eagle to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  Bowing her head slightly, “Ancient one, I have come to beg you to talk your nephew out of this crazy action of his. I am afraid he will get himself killed.”

  Looking at her, Anasazi could tell that Tatianna was about to break down into tears. Rising, he walked over to a small wooden shelf on the far wall. Pushing aside bowls, scrolls and braziers, he pulled forth a small dust covered crystal decanter. Humming to himself, he picked up two small wooden cups and returned to the fire.

  Raising one eyebrow slightly, Tatianna fixed the old man with an inquisitive look.

  Anasazi kept humming to himself as he placed one hand-carved cup in front of her and the other in front of himself. Placing the bottle in between them, he placed both hands on the base of the decanter and looked at her. Signaling with a nod from his head he waited while still humming.

  Puzzled, she placed both hands on the neck of the decanter. She could feel a slight vibration in the crystal decanter that matched the tune he was humming. Not knowing why, she picked up the tune and hummed along side of him.

  As their two voices merged and became one, the crystal decanter began to glow. The dust disappeared to reveal a golden liquid, slowly spinning inside the crystal decanter. The vibration and glowing seemed to increase in intensity with the increase in their humming. For several minutes, they continued their humming and the golden liquid continued to spin. The vibration and glow from the decanter flowed up their arms to fill their bodies with a warmth that was strangely invigorating. Soon the vibration had grown so much that Tatianna was afraid the decanter would shatter. Finally, there was a flash of brilliant white light that filled the whole room and threw them back onto the furs. Ceasing its vibration, the glow slowly faded from the decanter.

  Gasping for breath, Tatianna asked, “What was that?”

  Leaning down, Anasazi opened the decanter and poured some of the golden liquid into each cup. The fragrant smell of daisies on a spring meadow filled the room. Lifting his cup to his lips, he took a small sip. “That my dear was an ancient ceremony of friendship passed down through thousands of years known only as the Ritual of Elven Mead.”

  A confused look crossed her face. “The Ritual of Elven Mead? Why haven’t I ever heard of it?”

  Anasazi shrugged. “Because very few elves care for the ancient ways. The only ones that know it are usually scholars and mages and they don’t perform it very often.” He pointed at the bottle. “These decanters are very rare and quite expensive. The secret of making them have been lost for thousands of years.”

  Tatianna took a small sip. A smile spread across her face, as she tasted mead, elven mead for the first time since leaving her homeland. It was delicious. A comfortable warmth ran down her throat and spread throughout her body. It was relaxing. Leaning back into the furs, she let the mead do its job.

  Settling back into his own furs, Anasazi sipped on his cup as he talked. “This decanter was a gift from your mother a long time ago. She gave it to me shortly after an encounter we had with a particularly nasty earth dragon. Let me tell you the story, it might help you in your own predicament.”

  Refilling his cup, he gazed into the fire as he began his story. “Many years ago, long before you were born, there was a rogue earth dragon that was terrorizing a small village of halflings in the mountains south of your homeland. This earth dragon had kidnapped every child of the village and killed most of the men folk. The children were used as leverage to make the remaining halflings mine some precious gems out of a local cave.”

  Anasazi refilled Tatianna’s cup and continued his story. “We, the Wings of Justice, came to the village to help. It was obvious we could not just attack the earth dragon, as the battle was sure to kill the captive halflings. So, your mother came up with a bold plan. It was simple, yet extremely dangerous. She would challenge the dragon to a duel of wits, a riddle contest. If she won, the dragon would free the villagers and leave the area. If the dragon won, he could eat your mother and we would have to leave the area.”

  Leaning forward eagerly, Tatianna’s eyes and mouth were open in excitement. She had never heard stories about her mother’s past. Anasazi, engrossed in his story didn’t notice the look on her face as he continued.

&
nbsp; “I was the only one of the group to support her plan. Obviously, we argued. None of the others wanted her to do that, it seemed too risky. But no one could come up with a better plan. In the end it came down to one thing.” Turning to her, he leaned forward. “Do you know what that was?”

  Tatianna shook her head. “No. What?”

  “Trust! Pure and simple trust. We had to have faith in that she knew what she was doing. Her argument was simple and straightforward. If we trusted her to guard our backs during combat, then why would we not trust her now? The others could not argue with her logic. So, we trusted her.”

  Settling back into the furs, he pulled forth his pipe and began to fill it.

  Her anxiety getting the better part of her patience, she asked, “Well, what happened?”

  The old man smirked. “Why, she won of course. It wasn’t easy. The riddle contest lasted the better part of the day but in the end your mother stumped the dragon with a simple riddle.”

  Tatianna smiled at the thought of her mother, small and frail, face to face with a huge man-eating dragon and winning a riddle contest. “What was the riddle?”

  Pausing long enough to take a drag off his pipe and to complete the pipe ceremony he said, “Let me see, how did it go? I am the constant companion of all, from warrior to thief, from king to pauper, and dragon to otter. I steal the spring out of the elves’ steps and the gleam from the dwarves’ eyes. I am the thief of hearts that wipes the innocence from children’s mind. With my coming, mountains crumble and rivers dry up. All may run, yet none may hide. I am the greatest thief of all, who am I?”