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

by Terry Cloutier

  Shana appeared, cooing as she plucked the lamb away. “Ah, there you are, little one.” She smiled at me serenely as she snuggled the lamb to her breasts. “Are you hungry, Hadrack?”

  I nodded dumbly, unable to speak.

  “I thought that you might be,” Shana said knowingly. She hummed to herself as she stroked the lamb with love, then lifted a knife and slit its throat with a vicious slash. Blood squirted, drenching me as the reeve floated nearby, bobbing his head in approval.

  “Why!?” I shouted in horror.

  “Why what, Hadrack?”

  Shana and the lamb were gone now, replaced by Betania, who had died in Gasterny.

  “You’re alive,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion.

  “Am I?” Betania said with a melancholy smile. Her features changed, looking at me now with reproof in her eyes. “You never kissed me, Hadrack. Why?”

  “You were just a child and my friend,” I protested.

  “And that is all I’ll ever be.”

  Betania turned away with tears on her cheeks, only to be replaced by Ania.

  “Are you too tired to rut, Hadrack?” she asked coyly.

  I could only stare in horror. Ania held her head in her hands, using her fingers to make the lips move. I screamed, closing my eyes as the reeve laughed.

  More people came to visit me after that. An endless parade of the dead and the living. Einhard with his green eyes and dashing smile. My brother, Lallo, demanding that I return his Pair Stone. My sister, Jeanna, weeping and naked, her throat slit from ear to ear. Jebido with a missing nose and Baine, who sloshed past me angrily, his clothing dripping wet while dark seaweed writhed like snakes in his hair. Even my younger brother, who had died as a babe, appeared, riding a giant, grinning wolf. On and on it went as I thrashed and moaned, trying to escape the dungeon of my own mind.

  Finally, I felt a hand on my forehead and heard the soft, soothing words of a woman. I calmed and opened my eyes to see Shana leaning over me. I recoiled, remembering the lamb, but Shana just shushed me, her expression filled with kindness. That’s what the lamb had thought too, a part of my brain shouted at me in panic. I reluctantly thrust my unease aside, allowing my body to relax. Shana would never harm me. She loved me and I knew that I was safe with her. A fire crackled somewhere nearby. We were in her bedchambers in Calban. Shana stood, wearing a flowing dress of red made from Cardian capes. She slipped the dress off her milky-white shoulders and the wind took it, whisking it away as she stood naked before me.

  I heard a lewd whistle of appreciation and I glared at the floating, leering reeve. “This isn’t for your eyes, you bastard!” I shouted furiously.

  The reeve had the grace to look embarrassed and he quickly undid the buttons on his face. His flesh drooped to either side obscenely, hiding his eyes, and I screamed in horror at the sight. Then he disappeared into nothingness.

  “There, there,” Shana whispered to me. “Everything is going to be all right.”

  Shana lifted the bedclothes and slid into bed beside me. I was naked, and she took my manhood in her hand, stroking it urgently.

  “I love you,” I said. “Marry me.”

  “I love you, too, Hadrack,” Shana replied, smiling as she mounted me and guided me inside her. “And, of course, I will marry you.”

  I awoke to a pleasant feeling of warmth and contentment. I could hear birds chirping faintly somewhere and I sat up, wiping the crust from my eyes. I looked around. Stone walls surrounded me, rubbed smooth and sparkling with jagged purple and white veins embedded within them. I was in Waldin’s cave, I knew. I looked down at myself. I was bare-chested, with a clean bandage wrapped tightly around my shoulder. I flexed my arm. The wound felt stiff, but there was little pain. Two cloaks had been used to cover me, I saw, and they were now bunched around my waist and legs. I shifted them aside. I was naked underneath. I gingerly ran my hand along my injured leg, stopping at the thick bandaging. There was pain, but not nearly as much as I had expected. The redness to either side of the bandage was gone as well, I noted, though the skin was still mottled and unhealthy looking.

  I shifted my weight, realizing that I was sitting on a thick bed of leaves and grasses. A fire crackled in the center of the cave, burning feebly with a thin tendril of smoke rising to the ceiling. I peered upward. A circular hole in the rock directly over the fire conveniently allowed the smoke out. I twisted to look behind me and my arm hit a brown ceramic bowl sitting by the bedding. Pale liquid sloshed around inside and I sniffed the contents cautiously. I wrinkled my nose at the strong smell of piss. My clothing lay stacked neatly beside the bed, with the rips from the battle crudely repaired. I heard footsteps approaching from the east as Sabina appeared from a passage that I had overlooked, her arms laden with twigs and branches.

  She paused in surprise when she saw me, and then her face lit up in delight. “Hadrack, you’re awake!”

  “And thirsty,” I said, the words sounding odd and raspy.

  “There’s a bowl beside you,” Sabina said over her shoulder as she dropped the wood by the fire.

  I grimaced. “I’m not that thirsty.”

  “Not that one, darling,” Sabina said with a short laugh. “This one.”

  She stooped and produced a second bowl half-filled with clear water and handed it to me. I was still trying to process the fact that she had called me darling as I drank greedily.

  “How long have I been asleep?” I asked between gulps.

  “Six days,” Sabina said as she hunched down beside me. I gawked at her in surprise, barely noticing as she felt my forehead. “Your fever is gone. That’s good news.” Sabina sat back and absently stroked away a few strands of hair that had fallen into my eyes.

  “Six days,” I grunted in disbelief. I brushed Sabina’s hand aside, irritated for some reason by her intimacy. “You brought me here all by yourself?”

  “Of course,” Sabina said with a shrug. “Who else is there? Are you hungry? There are still some biscuits left. I caught a nice fat rabbit this morning and was planning to cook it later. I can start now if you wish that as well.”

  I nodded, accepting the hard biscuits as I tore into them. I was starving. Sabina began skinning the rabbit with Malo’s sword while I ate and took a closer look around. The cave was circular, with a smooth wall jutting out to the east where Sabina had come from, blocking my view of the entrance. What might have once been a bedframe lay in the northern corner of the cave, with a sagging table covered in spiderwebs and mold sitting against the back wall. More ceramic bowls, many of them broken, were piled near the remains of the bed. Waldin’s bed, I thought. Waldin!

  I turned back to Sabina. “The codex?” I asked anxiously.

  Sabina glanced up from her work, her face serious. “You are not going to be happy, Hadrack.”

  I groaned. “Don’t tell me it’s ruined?”

  Sabina shook her head. She wiped her greasy hands on her dress, then got up silently and went to the table. I hadn’t noticed in the gloom that something was sitting on the tabletop. I felt my heart start to quicken. Sabina came back and she stood over me, not meeting my eyes as she handed me a cloth bundle. I took it, afraid to ask as I unwrapped the moldy cloth, revealing four thick scrolls inside. I looked up at her in surprise.

  “I only took a glance at them,” Sabina said with a shrug. “But they don’t look like what we came here for.”

  I stared at the scrolls in disappointment. We had been through so much, lost so much, and now it looked like it had been all for nothing. “What is it, then, if not the codex?” I asked.

  Sabina went back to work on the rabbit. “A journal as far as I could tell.”

  “A journal?” I frowned. “Whose?”

  “Waldin’s,” Sabina answered. “I’ve looked everywhere in the cave, but those four scrolls are all there is.”

  I examined one of the scrolls bleakly. The fennels on the ends were made of heavily-tarnished silver, with the faded likeness of a lion’s head on eac
h side. Someone had stamped the number three into the head of one of the lions. I glanced at the other scrolls. Each of them had a number stamped into it as well. I picked up the first one and gently slid it open. The words inside were faded, but precise and neat, written on parchment sections weaved together with thread. The text ran horizontally rather than vertically.

  I began to read.

  Son Philap hates me! There can be no other explanation for his callousness toward me. I believe his hatred stems from jealousy, which, while understandable, does in no way change my estimation of him. He is a stupid, slovenly man whose only purpose in life, it seems—other than pointing out what he believes are my shortcomings—is to eat, defecate and belch, all in no particular order. Were I not possessed of a superior intellect and patient demeanor, I would long ago have gone over his head and made my feelings known to the First Son himself. I have not done so, however, because I believe Son Philap’s ultimate purpose is to discredit me in the First Son’s eyes. Leveling a claim of bias without proof would undoubtedly do just that. Oh, he is a crafty one, is Son Philap, but I am so much smarter than he, and I refuse to be baited. I am like the spider spinning its web, content to lay back as my enemies ensnare themselves ever deeper while I wait patiently in the shadows, preparing to pounce. Always the spider, never the prey, is the motto that I hold most dear.

  I looked up, groaning with disappointment as Sabina skewered the skinned rabbit and placed it over the fire. She was right. This wasn’t the codex, but instead appeared to be the rantings of a petty man embroiled in petty politics.

  “Well?” Sabina asked.

  I picked the other scrolls up one by one and quickly scanned a few words here and there, then I shook my head bitterly. “It doesn’t look promising.”

  Sabina turned the rabbit, looking unconcerned. “Wait until you read it all, first. The codex might still be somewhere in all of that.”

  “We don’t have time,” I grunted. “We have to get moving. Malo and the others must be beside themselves with worry by now.”

  “Not on that leg,” Sabina said firmly. “You are going to need at least another day or two before you can walk well enough.” She pointed to the scrolls. “Time that will allow you to rest and read.”

  I took a deep breath and fingered the scrolls unenthusiastically. Judging by the little that I had read from Waldin already, I was confident that everything in front of me was simply an exercise in his own hubris. I turned back to the first scroll and skimmed over the writing, pausing at a passage that caught my eye.

  How dare he! The smug, arrogant bastard! How dare he chastise me for a momentary slip, when I and everyone else in the Complex are acutely aware of his own infidelity. The sheer audacity of the man, to threaten me with expulsion. The woman was a common trollop, of no interest or concern to me. Can I help it if the fires below rage in me? Of course not. Am I not a man? Of course I am, born by the First Pair’s grace with a man’s needs and desires that sometimes leave me breathless, squeezing and squeezing until I yield and give in. To think that fat bastard just sat there, looking down his red-veined nose at me and demanded I beg forgiveness from the whore. Me! Beg someone like that! “Expulsion or talk to the girl,” he’d said in that timid voice of his. How dare he! It’s a wonder I can write these words at all, inflamed as I am. What will I do? It’s a question that bears thought. I like neither option, yet I must choose one or the other. I must think about it. Yes, that is what I must do. I will consider carefully, and then I will act.

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I rolled the scroll onward, interested despite myself, to know what Waldin had done. The next entry was a meaningless rant and contained nothing useful about the girl, so I moved to the following one.

  So, the fat bastard thought he had me, did he? Ah, but what joy it was to see the look on his face when that bitch went to him, weeping and kissing his feet during public confession, begging for forgiveness. Son Philap had expected to see me on my knees at confession instead, but that didn’t happen. Instead, I, Waldin of Brethelmire, stood in line with the other Sons-In-Waiting and watched as his carefully prepared trap for me, prostrated herself before him. How did I do it? It was surprisingly simple. I decided upon reflection that if the problem at hand could not be solved by conventional means, then it would be best to adapt and look at the issue unconventionally. One golden chalice removed from the monastery at night and placed in the girl’s room was all it took. Not to mention a gentle nudge to the Complex guards on where to look. Fat Son Philap had little choice but to banish the girl, and with her any chance that he could use her to his advantage against me. The sheer brilliance of it has left me giddy with the need for release, but I know I must be cautious and control myself lest someone come by and see. If only I had somewhere to go. Somewhere private where I can do as I wish, with whomever I wish. I must dwell on it. There has to be a solution.

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I glanced at the remains of the bed behind me with distaste. I had a good idea now what had gone on in this cave long ago. I skimmed through the rest of the scroll and reached for the second when Sabina told me the food was ready. I stood, resisting her offered help, pleased to find only mild pain when I put weight on my leg. I hobbled toward the fire, accepting Sabina’s hand this time as I sat down stiffly.

  “You had me worried,” Sabina said, offering me a hunk of steaming meat on the point of Malo’s sword. “You raved like a madman for days, screaming and smashing your fists on the floor for hours at a time.”

  I ate, ignoring the heat from the steaming meat as my stomach rumbled in appreciation. The meager biscuits had done little to appease my hunger. “I remember,” I said, thinking of the floating reeve and Shana with her little lamb. I shook my head. “I still find it hard to believe that we have been here for six days already.”

  “I know,” Sabina said. She glanced at the scrolls. “I was thinking that once you get those to Malo, we can go to my village. It’s only a few days from here. I want to tell my brother about us. We can send word to my parents in Springlight and they can meet us there.”

  “Us?” I said, rabbit halfway to my lips. “What do you mean by us?”

  “Don’t be shy, Hadrack,” Sabina said as she cut more meat. She chuckled and leaned forward, winking at me. “It’s a little late for that now. We’ll wait for my mother and father to return, then we will marry in the village square. The house is small, but with your help, I’m sure my father can add to it.”

  I stared at Sabina in astonishment, the food forgotten. “Married? What are you talking about?”

  Sabina smiled at me happily. “We discussed all this, remember?” I looked at her blankly. “While we made love, silly,” she prodded, rolling her eyes. “You asked me to marry you. You can’t have forgotten that.”

  I just stared at her. I could feel a blackness coming over me and I had to force myself not to move or say anything. My dream about Shana had happened, only it hadn’t been the woman I loved with me. It had been Sabina. She had taken advantage of me when I was at my weakest, I realized with growing fury. I had been out of my mind with fever and she had used me like a cheap whore. I felt my heart turn cold with anger and I knew the girl’s very life was at stake as I tried to control myself. I could hear the reeve chuckling away in my head at the irony. Was there any difference between what he had done to my sister and what Sabina had done to me?

  “Hadrack?” Sabina asked, looking unfazed. “Are you all right?”

  I threw my food down. My appetite was suddenly gone. “What is wrong with you?” I growled.

  Sabina drew her head back in surprise. “Wrong? What do you mean? Nothing is wrong with me. What’s wrong with you?”

  I stood carefully and looked down at her. “If you don’t know,” I said in disgust, “then there’s no hope for you.” I limped toward my bedding, my only thought to make it there without wrapping my hands around Sabina’s pale throat.

  “Hadrack, stop thi
s silliness,” Sabina chided from behind me. “Come back here and eat. We can talk about this. We don’t have to get married as soon as we get home, if that’s what is bothering you. We can wait a month or two.”

  I shut my ears to Sabina’s words, sitting on the leaves and grass with my back to her. I was still sorely tempted to snap her neck, so I picked up the second scroll and unraveled it, preferring to be in Waldin’s world right now, rather than my own. At least in his world, nobody died.

  I killed them! I can’t believe how easy it was. They thought they were smarter than me, those two. Try to extort me, will they? Ha! I showed them. They insisted we meet at the mountain's base at some beggarly inn near the new garrison being built. Bring the gold they had demanded, or we’ll go to the First Son and tell him what you did. Oh, I brought them gold, all right. Just not the kind they were hoping to receive. A quick dash into the armory, then one of the ceremonial daggers with the golden hilt up my sleeve, and there you have it. Gold for two. Ha-ha! They were confident they had me when I walked into that stinking room, all smug and condescending. They should have realized who they were dealing with and known better. Unlucky for them, I guess. The day I’m bested by two commoners like those scum, is the day they put me in the ground. The big fellow didn’t even see it coming—standing there with his muscular arms and bad teeth. He screamed like a girl when the knife first went in, writhing on the bed and begging for mercy. It was the most disgraceful display of cowardice that I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness. I had to stab the bastard at least five more times before he finally quit blubbering and had the good grace to die. The girl was another matter, though. I took my time with her. Luckily, the inn turned out to be a rotting cesspool filled with avarice and debauchery. The kind of place where screams are as commonplace as breaking wind and belching. The perfect harborage to conceal my deed. That was three days ago now, and I’m still reveling in the thrill of it all. I’ve been aflame with need both day and night ever since, so have taken to walking Oasis after dark each night, hidden from prying eyes so that I can relieve my disquiet in privacy. Plodding through bushes with all manner of creatures slithering and grunting around me is not what I would have wished for, but it’s all there is for now, so it must suffice. I have set my mind to finding a solution to this inconvenient problem of mine, and I will not rest until I have.