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

by Terry Cloutier

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I paused as I heard Sabina get up, already preparing an angry rebuke if she spoke of marriage again.

  “I’m going for more water, Hadrack. I won’t be gone long, darling.”

  I grunted without looking at her, relieved that she was leaving. What Sabina had done to me was unforgivable, yet at the same time, she had saved my life twice already on this cursed mountain. First, with Emand, then again, by bringing me back to health. That bore some weight that couldn’t be discounted, helping to even the scales somewhat. But even if she saved me a thousand more times, I would never be able to get past how she knowingly corrupted me for her own selfish purpose. I heard her walk away and I relaxed as her footfalls diminished.

  I turned back to the scroll, frowning with distaste. With every passage I read, my dislike for Waldin was growing, but even so, I was curious to see what the final result of all his scheming would be.

  I have found love! There is no other way to describe what I feel inside my breast. Her name is Verica, a Daughter-In-Waiting newly arrived from the savage southern lands. She is young still, a child really, but already showing the promise of the curvaceous and bewitching woman that she will become. Her hair is golden blonde and shimmers like the brightest star, and her eyes are the strangest green. Captivating and intoxicating like lustrous jewels, with the shimmer of innocence and something more residing in their depths. I cannot take my gaze off her, and I feel my heart palpitating every time she is near. If she were to ever speak to me, I expect that the poor, over-worked organ would surge from my chest in a momentous eruption. But, if that is to be my fate, then it is one which I will gladly accept, if only to have a heartbeat's worth of her attention. I shiver with anticipation each day before prayers ever since she arrived on our mountain. Not for the chance to have pleasant discourse with The Mother and The Father anymore, but only to hear Verica sing. Her voice, ah, it is a marvel to listen to. The sweetness of it makes me weep for pure joy, while the strength and character of her timbre fills me with confidence and hope. She has not noticed me yet. I keep in the shadows, watching, listening, like the patient spider that I am. But one day, an opportunity will present itself, and I will be ready.

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I paused in my reading and stood, stretching my stiff back. Sabina hadn’t returned yet, and I was beginning to get an uneasy feeling that something was wrong. I limped along the cavern until I rounded the outcrop to find myself in a narrow, darkened corridor. I could see faint light ahead, more a crack than anything that might resemble a cave opening. I frowned, perplexed. Was something blocking the cave mouth? I used my hand to brace myself on the cold rock until I reached the end, then I shook my head in surprise. No wonder Waldin’s cave had never been discovered. It had been in direct view from the gorge the entire time, but no one could tell. A solid rock wall protruded out from my right, with a second wall jutting out from my left about two feet further out, overlapping the first. I had to twist and turn to get around them, walking sideways until finally, I was outside. I paused on a short ledge overlooking the gorge as bright sunlight hit my face. It was well past midday, I realized. I’d never thought to ask Sabina when I awoke if it was day or night outside.

  I heard sudden voices and I shrank back into the shadows, then cautiously peered around the stone shielding me. Men were moving in a line through the trees along the gorge's floor—men with dogs. I cursed, wondering what had happened to Sabina. Finally, I turned away and headed back. I was safe where I was, I knew, unless those men down there had captured the girl, that is. Would she tell? I shrugged. If she did, I would know soon enough.

  Sabina had taken Malo’s sword with her, which left me with few options to defend myself. I limped over to the remnants of Waldin’s bed and rummaged through it, finally making do with a mostly-rotted plank that looked as though it would shatter at the slightest touch. It was better than nothing. I lay back down with the plank close to hand and began to read again.

  Now he’s gone too far. How dare he! First, I am overlooked once again to ascend to the position of Son. And now, I’ve been relegated to sifting through dusty tombs and maps in the monastery library. Sons-In-Waiting far my junior in chronology and acumen have been presented the black robe, while I wither away unnoticed over meaningless manuscripts like some eccentric, bygone relic. It’s infuriating. How can I ever aspire to rise to First Son, if the one man standing in my way won’t advance me my black robe? It’s jealousy, I say, nothing but outrageous, bald-faced jealousy. I won’t stand for it any longer. My honor and pride are at stake now. Either Son Philap goes, or I go. The Complex cannot contain the both of us. But how to do it? That is the question I must wrap my mind around. I must deliberate on this course I’ve charted very carefully, for killing the sniveling dimwit on my own—while a truly delicious idea—will have repercussions that may point back to me. I cannot allow that. I must find another way. But how?

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  Cardians! I had heard tales of these foul creatures but had given them little thought until now. They came on Pilgrimage last week, at least twenty or more, and some have decided to stay longer as they immerse themselves in the lore of the mountain. It is quite fortuitous for me that they did. I met one of these Cardians yesterday, a surly, unpleasant sort, who goes by the ridiculous name of Furt. He is a hulking brute, but appears just crafty enough to get the job done, though I find his churlish demeanor highly offensive. He has agreed—for a hefty price—to eliminate my foe, opening the door so that I might finally obtain the black robe that is my due. This Furt has demanded a princely sum for his services, which of course, I do not have, but he’s too stupid to understand that. I gave him several gold coins that I found on the frozen body of some hapless Pilgrim, with the assurance that he’d be paid the balance after the deed has been done. Ha! We’ll see about that.

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I rolled the scroll to read more, but mold had spread along the parchment at the end of the text, leaving only a few lines here and there legible.

  I have found a safe haven, away from prying eyes. One which could only be—

  Verica is everything and more that I could have—

  Oh, how I pine for the days of Son Philap, may his soul burn for all eternity. It has been a year since the loathsome Son left this world, and in that time, I’ve come to realize that his replacement, Son Jaynis, is, if it’s possible, even blinder to my brilliance than—

  That was all. Everything else was gone. I picked up the third scroll and unraveled it, my heart surging at the first words to greet my eyes.

  I have made a momentous discovery! It is hard to comprehend just how prodigious this discovery is, even for someone of my advanced intelligence. The vastness of what I have learned takes my breath away, and I know I must guard this secret with my life until I decide what to do. I have found a codex within the monastery. A unique, wonderous codex that I am convinced was fated to end up in my hands all along. I don’t know how it had come to fall behind the shelving in the library, lost from casual eyes these hundreds of years, but it’s mine now. What I have gleaned from the words inside has the power to bring down all that we know. Should I burn it? It’s a tempting thought, to be sure. Doing so, I know, would save both sides of the House profound embarrassment and protracted grief, should the connivance perpetrated on us all become known. But if I do that, then what? Toil within the monastery forever, waiting for my black robe that might never materialize, until finally my fingers cramp with arthritis and my back is twisted like a hook? No, that won’t do at all. For now, I’ve hidden the codex inside another book in the library. Lately, I’ve had the uncomfortable sensation that I’m being watched, so I must be cautious. Perhaps it’s just paranoia about Verica and has nothing to do with the codex? I’m not sure. We have been rendezvousing each night in the cave, glorying in each others’ bodies, and doing all manner of unspeakable things. I have nev
er been so happy in all my life, yet I am terrified of being found out. Not enough to stop, though. No, never that. I cannot stop, even if my life depended on it, which it just may. Verica’s allure is too strong, and I am too weak. I will see her tonight and will tell her of the codex. Together, she and I will figure out what to do.

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I realized I had been holding my breath the entire time that I’d been reading. I let it out slowly, noisily, trying to still the excitement inside me. Hours had gone by, but I gave it little thought. I wasn’t even remotely tired. I had slept for six straight days, after all. I picked up the last scroll and read onward eagerly.

  I have a particular gift, one that, I believe, should have propelled me long ago far above my current, lowly station. Others do not seem impressed by it, however, including Son Jaynis, which conclusively proves my theory that the man is an incompetent fool and a simpleton. I was born the fourth and, I daresay, most unwelcome child of a minor lord. Which in and of itself alone, could hardly be deemed worthy of comment. But I was different than other children. By the time I was five and had begun my lessons in earnest, it quickly became apparent that whatever I read could, upon request, be recited back perfectly, word for word. At first, it was simple nursery rhymes, but, as my reading skills increased, so did my abilities to recollect the written word. I became so adept at this remembrance that my father, who was usually a serious man with little time for children, would plant me on a stool to entertain his guests. I was eager for any attention from my father back then—I can’t for the life of me imagine why now—so I indulged him and performed my so-called oddity like a well-trained monkey, to the obvious delight of everyone present. Which brings me to my point. I have begun the laborious task of copying the hidden codex word for word simply from memory. I believe that a storm is brewing on the horizon, and I must be prepared to seize the moment when it does. Twice now, I’ve come back to my room after prayers to find that it has been ransacked. Oh, not so that the casual observer might notice, of course. But I am so much more than that, and I know what has transpired. I was wise to hide the codex where I did, but sooner or later, it may fall into the wrong hands and disappear forever. Therefore, I will store the copy of the original codex here in my sanctuary, along with these priceless records of my struggles. Someday, I believe, these eloquent words written by my hand will be studied widely, as the great minds of the day try and undoubtedly fail, to interpret my brilliance.

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. Waldin was long dead, and I was glad of that fact, but his ego was alive and well in my hands. I didn’t relish it, but I knew that I had to press on with his story on the off chance that he did mention the codex’s location. Occasionally while I read, I’d wondered about Sabina, but I guessed if the men outside hadn’t come for me by now, that meant they probably never would. Hopefully, the girl was all right and was waiting for an opportunity to return to the cave unseen. There was nothing for me to do but wait, so I stood and threw more wood on the fire, brightening the cave, then began to read the next passage.

  Disaster! I am being transferred to that blight on the landscape, Gandertown. A place so foul and dirty, even the rats refuse to enter. What will I do? The codex copy is finally complete, bound and written on sheepskin just like the original so expertly that I doubt anyone other than myself could tell them apart. Yet, what good will it do me now? I have still not formulated a proper plan on how best to use the copy. But that must wait for the time being, as I must leave my hallowed sanctuary in two days, and, even worse, leave my sweet Verica behind. The indignities to my person continue, as I’m to travel—by foot no less—to the burgeoning library in Gandertown, where I’ve been instructed to organize its expansion. It’s not enough that Son Jaynis wasted my talents all these years, having me move long-obsolete books and maps around, now I must do the same hundreds of miles away in a strange and barbaric city. The degradation that I’ve suffered at the hands of those who think themselves above me has become insufferable. I am tempted to refuse the assignment, but that will leave me open to banishment if I do. Something, I have no doubt, Son Jaynis would gleefully approve. I must plan how to use the codex to my advantage. But how? I must think about it.

  Always the spider, never the prey.

  This will be my last entry for some time. I journey to Gandertown in the morning and dare not bring the scrolls or either copy of the codex with me. Verica has stunned me by shunning her grey robe and shearing her hair. She will be free from the clutches of the Daughters in a week, once the First Daughter arrives in Halas and approves her resignation. I cannot say enough about how grateful I am to have met a woman such as she. I intend to ask for her hand in marriage, but only when I have obtained all the power and renown that I justly deserve. I will return to the Complex as soon as I possibly can, the gods willing. The library expansion in Gandertown is already well underway, and I pray that once I arrive, the organization of said institute will be mercifully quick and trouble-free. Let it be so, for already I feel a keening of loss for this place in my breast. Until my return, remember:

  Always the spider, never the prey!

  I muttered in disappointment as I got to the end of the scroll. That was it? There was no more? I paused. There was another inscription, I saw, written sideways that I had failed to notice pinched up against the roller. The writing was done in a different style than Waldin’s. I carefully peeled the parchment paper back and began to read eagerly.

  My dearest love, Waldin,

  If you are reading this, then you have returned from Gandertown and are now aware that I have left the mountain. It has been over a year since you departed. A year in which I have labored under the strict eyes of Daughter Lucey. I have spent every day since you left thinking of you and wishing that I could feel your arms around me once more. The First Daughter, as you no doubt are aware, refused my resignation. She did not explain her reasoning for this, much as I pleaded with her. Instead, I was indoctrinated into what she referred to as my re-education. A term that I have grown to despise. Each night after lessons and chores, I was locked up in a cell alongside other malcontents like myself.

  Yes, there are more of us. Seven others, to be precise—both men and women—who have lost their belief in the ways of The Mother and The Father. I have been careful, but I trust these people and have told them what we learned from the codex—though I made no mention of the tome itself. I hope you approve, my sweet Waldin, as I have been so lonely and needed to speak with other like-minded souls. I have waited impatiently for your return this past year, but I realized recently that I could not spend another moment bathing in the lies and hypocrisy that the House has become. And so, we eight have broken out tonight and plan momentarily to escape through the tunnel in Oasis. They will be hunting for us, and if they find us, I know they will kill us all.

  I have risked much to come to your precious cave tonight and write these words, but I could not let you wonder what had become of me. The thought of the torment that not knowing my fate would cause you was just too horrible for me to contemplate. To go north is death, so we will be fleeing south, past the Kingdom of the Flins to the place where my mother was born. They will never find us there. I have drawn a map below of a special place where my mother’s tribe worships. I will go there every day, waiting for your arrival. As for the codex itself, I have decided to take it with me. Please do not be angry with me about this, dear Waldin. I am fearful that—the True God forbid it—if you do not return to Oasis for some reason, the codex might be discovered and its secret destroyed. Rest assured, I will guard it with my life until it is in your hands once more. Be safe, my love, and come to me!

  Yours in love and faith,

  Verica

  I sat back, reeling. Verica had taken the codex, which was surprising enough, but what had hit me like a punch in the stomach was that I recognized the drawing she had left behind. It was crudely done, true, yet good enough to
make out a flat landscape surrounded by thick forests. Tall, shaft-like rocks stood at equal intervals around a stone square in the middle of the clearing. Smaller circles of stones lay on the ground some distance away from the base of the shafts. Ania had described this very place to me long ago. I lowered the scroll in wonder.

  I was looking at the Ascension Grounds of the Piths.

  21: The Markhor

  I had only moments to reflect on what I had learned before I heard footsteps coming from the east. I stood, picking up the rotten plank, then relaxed as Sabina appeared, looking dirty and disheveled.

  “What happened?” I asked, gruffer than I had intended. I was still angry with her and it showed in my voice.