The Wolf On The Run (The Wolf of Corwick Castle Book 3)

by Terry Cloutier

  I frowned. Emand’s continued presence was beginning to annoy me. “You seem to know a lot,” I grunted. I looked at him appraisingly. “For a cordwainer, that is.”

  Emand shrugged. “I like to stay informed.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I muttered.

  “What happened to you both back there, anyway?” Emand asked. “I thought we were going to eat together?”

  “You thought wrong,” I said. I turned to face the cordwainer. “Listen, Emand, we appreciate the help you have given us so far, but we need to be on our own from now on.”

  Emand fiddled with the sash of his cloak. “Did you know that I wasn’t always a cordwainer, Rorian?”

  “How could I?” I responded.

  “True, quite true. How could you, indeed? The fact is, even though you might not guess it to look at me now, I was something of an adventurer as a younger man. I traveled much of the known world, selling my sword to the highest bidder.” Emand looked at the ground. “I’m ashamed to admit this to you, but back then, I didn’t worry much about the morals of what I was doing.”

  “And now?” I asked. “How are your morals now?”

  “I have changed for the better,” Emand pronounced modestly. “What I did in the past was wrong, but I’ve made amends for it since then.”

  “Something tells me that you haven’t changed that much,” I said sarcastically.

  Emand laughed, looking unoffended as he waved a hand. “Don’t be silly. I’m just a simple cordwainer now, on his way to meet The Mother and The Father with his beloved wife.”

  “You may be a cordwainer, Emand,” I said as I drew Sabina away, “but I don’t believe you are simple by any means.” I paused three steps from him as a thought struck me, then I turned and went back until I towered over him. I held his eyes. “I’m only going to say this once,” I growled low enough that only he could hear. “So, you had better pay attention. You keep showing up wherever we go, and I don’t think that is a coincidence. If I see you anywhere near us again, I promise I will kill you.”

  Emand’s eyes turned hard like glass. “Then I’d best not let you see me coming the next time, Hadrack of Corwick,” he said softly.

  I didn’t see Emand or his unpleasant-looking wife for the remainder of that day, and Sabina and I reached Third Step without any further problems. Thirty-two climbers had been unable to make it to the third stage, turning back in exhaustion and defeat. Eight more Pilgrims had lost their lives in various accidents, including Lord Evensmire, who I had learned about from the drunk who approached me in First Step. I wondered idly if that drunken Pilgrim had managed to make it this far as Sabina and I settled into a small round tent that had been provided for us.

  We had been given food and drink earlier and, with bellies full and feeling tired but content, we sat wrapped in furs against the cold, neither of us quite ready to go to sleep. I had initially worried that Sabina might try something like she had the previous night now that we were alone, but she gave no signs of being interested in anything of that sort.

  “I still think Emand is harmless,” Sabina said with a sniff. We had been given a stubby candle made of sheep wax and her features in the weak light were cast in deep shadows.

  I stretched my legs and sighed. I hadn’t told Sabina what the cordwainer had said to me earlier, not wishing to worry her. I’d wanted to keep her mind focused on the climb and not be forever looking back over her shoulder. Now seemed the appropriate time.

  “He knows who I am,” I said simply.

  “What? Sabina gasped. “How?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is Emand isn’t the man he claims to be.”

  Sabina sat in silence for a moment, digesting that. “Is he dangerous, do you think?” she finally asked. “He’s so small and fat,” she added doubtfully.

  I snorted. “Rock snakes are small too, but they can kill you faster than you can blink.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what Emand’s stake in all this is, but there is a lot more to the man than meets the eye. We would do well to avoid him from now on.”

  “Whatever you think is best, Hadrack,” Sabina said, sounding tired now as she lay down. She shifted on the furs. “What is our plan for tomorrow, anyway?”

  “We’ll slip away the first chance we get once we reach the Complex,” I said. “I’m sure with so many Pilgrims wandering around up there, that nobody is going to notice we are gone.” I lay back and put my hands behind my head, staring up at the dancing shadows flickering across the tent’s sloped ceiling. “Waldin said in his note that the cave is about four miles from the Complex. I just wish he’d been a little more specific about which direction. We might be out there a while before we find it.”

  “And when we do?” Sabina asked. “Then what? Getting up the mountain might seem easy compared to getting back down if they are watching for us.”

  I had been thinking much the same thing. “I know. One thing at a time. We’ll find the codex first, then worry about how to get it to Malo after that.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling the day wearing on me as we lay in silence. I thought Sabina had finally fallen asleep until she surprised me by talking.

  “Hadrack?”

  “Hmmm?” I asked drowsily.

  “Do you love her? I mean, really love her. Or is it just about her title and lands?”

  I felt instant anger well up inside me, about to reply hotly, then I caught myself. The insinuation was maddening, yet I knew yelling at Sabina would accomplish nothing. It would probably only add to our problems. I swallowed my anger. “If you think that,” I said instead, trying to keep my voice even, “then you don’t know me at all.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sabina responded. “I never should have said such a hurtful thing.” I heard her move on the bedding, and I opened my eyes. She lay on her side, one hand propping up her head as she stared at me. “Sometimes, my mouth just blurts things out before my brain has had a chance to think about it.”

  I grinned back at her despite myself. “I have been doing that my entire life.”

  “So, you forgive me, then?” Sabina asked.

  “Of course,” I said. “It’s been a long day.” I paused, thinking about how Sabina’s mood had shifted so dramatically this morning from the night before. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” Sabina replied instantly.

  “Why were you so angry at me last night, and then so different this morning?” I asked. “What changed?”

  Sabina lay back down and stared at the ceiling. I heard her breathe out slowly. “I was furious at you last night,” she said. “I can’t deny that. But then I realized something after a few hours and all my anger went away.”

  “What?”

  “That Lady Shana is a long way from here,” Sabina said in a soft voice. “She is in Calban and I am here with you.” She rolled over and looked at me steadily. “A lot can change before you get back to her, Hadrack.” She smiled confidently. “A lot.”

  17: The Complex

  The next morning, we woke up to a bone-chilling cold, with snow falling heavily as a brisk wind whipped it about, reducing visibility down to mere feet. The harsh weather for this time of year was quite unusual, I was told, and the final climb to the Complex was now expected to take most of the day. There had been some debate initially about whether to wait until the following morning to set out, but that was quickly voted down by the highborn, who were anxious to end the journey. Besides, as they had quite rightly pointed out to the dissenters, the Pilgrimage rules were clear—no stoppage for any reason except during the designated times. Anyone had the right to turn back if they desired, but that meant The Walk was over for them. Those that chose to continue forward had only one task—keep going until the destination was reached.

  We commoners had no say in the decision, of course, and though I was concerned about the storm, I was still relieved that we were leaving. I wasn’t overly keen on the cold and I knew the going would be rough, but if the snow held u
ntil we reached the summit, I reasoned it might afford Sabina and me the perfect cover to slip away unnoticed.

  Red banners snapped and crackled from tall poles that lined our route, guiding us upward as we plodded through drifting snow that was already reaching well past my ankles. Soldiers followed to either side of the struggling Pilgrims wearing heavy cloaks and burlap sacks wrapped around their faces that they had taken from the kitchens. I had managed to steal some rope and four of the burlap sacks for Sabina and myself the night before. But rather than use the bags on our faces, we filled them with provisions, then tied them together and hung them around our necks beneath our cloaks.

  I had no idea how long it would take to find Waldin’s cave, but I knew we wouldn’t last long if the weather continued as it was without a ready source of food. The rough rope wore uncomfortably against the back of my neck with every step, but it was something that I knew I would have to learn to live with. I was sure the discomfort would prove to be the least of my problems that day. I tied the remaining rope around the thick glove on my left wrist, then secured the other end to Sabina’s right wrist. There wasn’t much more than five feet separating us this way, but I still preferred that to one of us wandering off in the confusion caused by the storm.

  As the morning progressed and conditions worsened, we were forced to walk with our chins pressed to our chests and our hoods held closed as the pelting snow sought out our vulnerable eyes and faces. I lost track of how many Pilgrims fell in front and around me. Sabina fell four times herself during the first few hours of the climb, but she got up gamely and plodded onward each time. The fifth fall belonged to me as I lost my footing on the lip of a hidden rock. I tumbled to the ground as though pole-axed, cracking my shin hard on the edge of an exposed stone as I pulled Sabina down with me. I lay still for a moment, half-buried in snow and cursing at the pain in my leg. If it was broken, I knew I was a dead man.

  “Are you all right, Hadrack?” Sabina shouted over the wind as she crawled through the snow to my side.

  I slowly flexed my leg, wincing at the burning sensation that screamed down the length. It hurt something fierce, but I could tell that my leg wasn’t broken. “Thank The Mother,” I said to the blizzard-filled sky.

  “What?” Sabina shouted at me.

  “I’m fine,” I said loudly. I struggled to my feet and put weight on the leg. There was pain, but not as bad as I had anticipated. I motioned upward. “Let’s keep moving.”

  The snow continued to fall as we climbed, and eventually, we reached a narrow pass guarded by twin spires of ice-capped rock. Towering drifts had built up around the rock formations' bases and then joined in the center, creating a solid wall of white. The leading Pilgrims were forced to push their way through the drifts with the snow reaching well past their waists. I chuckled to myself, wondering what the highborn thought of their vaunted privilege now as I followed the trail that they had conveniently left for the rest of us.

  Another hour went by, with nothing but howling winds, blowing snow and deep cold to keep us company. I hadn’t seen one of the red banners marking the route in a long time and wasn’t entirely sure that we were heading in the right direction anymore. We were still going up, however, so I reasoned that meant we must be on the right course.

  Hundreds of Pilgrims had started the journey with us that morning in a tightly-packed group. But now we were alone, with only the occasional fleeting glimpses of snowy forms stumbling around like half-frozen corpses. Were the others nearby, hidden by the snowfall? I wondered. Or had they just given up and turned back? I glanced behind me at Sabina, whose head and body were sheathed in a solid layer of white. She was wobbling like a drunkard through the drifts while the taut rope attaching us pulled her along like a hooked fish. I was so numb from the cold that I hadn’t even noticed the resistance. I slowed, cursing myself for a fool as I let her catch up.

  “Not much farther now!” I called out hoarsely, trying and failing to sound cheerful. If Sabina heard my words, she gave no sign.

  Time lost all meaning after that, with no choice but to press onward or fall down and die where we were. I turned my mind inward as I put one foot into the deep snow ahead, then dragged the other out, then did it again, over, and over and over with mindless precision. Finally, I paused, sensing that something had changed around me. I wiped the ice from my eyes, blinking up at a formidable wall of rock that rose directly in my path two hundred feet away. Blowing snow swirled off the top of the cliff, twisting and spinning crazily with the wind. Several familiar red banners stood near the cliff’s base, with a barely-seen soldier bracing himself on one of the poles as he urgently waved us in. I whooped for joy.

  “We made it!” I cried out as I ran back and put my arm around Sabina. I half-pushed, half-dragged her forward as she stared at me in numb confusion.

  “This way! Over here!” I heard the soldier shouting faintly as we drew closer. Snow had curled like frozen waves all along the cliff base, creating a hard, crusty wall that Sabina and I had to fight our way through before finally we reached the man. He clapped me on the back in congratulations. “Welcome, Pilgrims! I’m glad to see you. Are there any more out there?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, barely able to make my frozen lips work. “Maybe.”

  The soldier nodded, his face covered with an ice-encrusted burlap sack. “I’ll keep watch for a while longer, then.” He motioned behind him to where the darkened entrance of a cavern awaited. “Get inside. A fire and a mug of hot ale is waiting for you. By the looks of you two, I’d wager you need it.”

  Sabina and I passed through the opening, then we both paused in surprise. The cavern wasn’t really a cavern after all, I saw, but instead was just a convenient hole that led down into a narrow box canyon. Perhaps as many as sixty Pilgrims sat along the canyon’s rocky floor, drinking ale and warming themselves near a crackling fire. Sabina and I made our way down several step-like shelves of flat rock toward the flames as silent, exhausted Pilgrims moved aside to make room for us. Sabina dropped gratefully to her knees in front of the fire, while I stood over her, enjoying the heat.

  Someone thrust a mug at me and I accepted it gratefully. For the first time in hours, the biting wind that had torn at us was gone. It was a welcome relief after so long in its unforgiving grip. I drank and peered upward into the gloom, then grunted in amazement. Massive cornices of ice and wind-sculpted snow curled outward from the clifftops, as majestic as anything fashioned by man. The ice had expanded over time, thickening into beams that crisscrossed the canyon before becoming fused in the center, creating a supportive network that held up tons of crusted snow and ice. Small areas remained open to the skies and the elements here and there, but hardly any snow managed to make its way inside. I tried not to imagine what would happen if those beams suddenly gave way beneath all that weight.

  The canyon wasn’t large, but it was still big enough to hold at least twenty times the number of Pilgrims that were here. I wondered what had become of all the others. Surely more had made it than just these few. Soldiers stood at the far end of the canyon near a darkened opening, and one of them finally stepped toward the fire purposefully.

  “All right, everyone,” the man called out, his voice echoing loudly. “The others have already gone ahead. It looks like you are the last ones to make it this far.” He pointed toward the opening behind him. “Each Pilgrim pair will go through here on their way to the Complex. This is the final leg of your journey, and the final test of your resolve. Keep your wits about you and work together, and you will make it.” He turned away, then swung back and let his eyes roam over us. “I know you all have had a tough go of it out there. More so than any Walk that I have ever been a part of. The Black Way that leads to the Complex is intimidating in good weather, so I can only imagine what it will be like in this. Whatever you do, make sure you stay focused and don’t look down. Good luck to you all.”

  The soldiers began to usher pairs through the passage one by one, leaving a gap of s
everal minutes before sending the next.

  “How are you holding up?” I asked Sabina as I squatted down beside her.

  Sabina had taken her hood down and was drawing chunks of half-melted ice from her hair. I noticed someone had given her ale, but it sat untouched on the ground beside her.

  “I have had better times,” Sabina admitted. She flicked some ice into the fire as the flames hissed back angrily at her. She looked up at me and smiled wearily. “I’ll be glad when this is finally over, Hadrack.”

  I nodded in agreement. I didn’t think it prudent to mention our ordeal had only just begun. Sabina knew that as well as I did without having to be told.

  “You two,” a soldier called out, pointing our way. “You’re next.”

  I helped Sabina to her feet, holding her hand as we passed through the torch-lit tunnel entrance. We walked for a hundred feet or so before we came to a rough opening leading outside. The wind we had become so familiar with began to buffet us again with renewed fury as we paused in dismay at what awaited us. A thin ridge lay ahead that had somehow been flattened out to create a pathway leading directly into an opening in a square-faced cliff three hundred feet away. The builders who had flattened the ridgetop had laid massive black stone slabs down, which must have been a spectacular sight to see in perfect weather. Today, however, the stones glinted treacherously as wind-whipped snow mixed with tiny ice pellets clattered against the slabs before being whisked away over the ridge.

  I looked down. Thin pine trees grew far below me on either side of a steep slope, the swaying tips of their branches all but lost in the churning snow and ice. I turned my attention back to our destination, where a gigantic statue of a pair of open hands dominated the clifftop with the fingers curled toward the sky. Emand had described this place to me and I knew I was looking at Mother’s Welcome, the gateway into the Complex. I took a cautious step forward onto the first slab, then drew my foot back quickly as my boot started to slide.