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

by Terry Cloutier

  The mother bear barrelled directly for the lead House Agent, while the rest of us fought to control our terrified horses. The cub ducked back into the bushes, wailing as the mother arrived and tore at the House Agent’s screaming horse. Dust swirled in heavy clouds, making it hard for me to see what was happening. I could hear men shouting and horses shrieking as I swung the mare around, sending her at full gallop toward the trees. My opportunity had come.

  I didn’t look back as I rode, the sounds from behind slowly fading as the mare cut her way through the rapidly darkening forest. I had headed east initially, just happy to go in any direction, but after a mile or so, I turned north, hoping my pursuers would assume I would go south. I rode for another hour, always watching my backtrail, then I turned west, heading for the coast. I had no idea where I was—I just kept going—my ears attuned continuously to any sound that might be the House Agents.

  I rode all night without seeing anyone, and the next morning, I reached a gentle valley where a flock of fat sheep were grazing peacefully on rich-looking grass. A boy lay on the grass near the valley crest, his hands behind his head, a battered straw hat covering his face. He didn’t hear me approach until I was almost upon him, then he sat up, his face twisted in surprise as he squinted up at me.

  “Good morning,” I said amiably. The boy glanced around nervously, chewing on his bottom lip. “What is your name, lad?” I asked.

  “Arel, lord.”

  “A fine name,” I said. “What is the name of the closest town?”

  “Wormwood, lord.”

  I pursed my lips. I’d never heard of the place. “What is the name of the closest town that matters,” I asked, smiling to let the boy know that I meant no offense.

  Arel blinked. “Uh, Hillsfort is twenty miles west of here, lord.”

  I grinned. I knew where I was. “Tell me, Arel,” I said. “Have you any food?” The boy nodded reluctantly. “Good,” I grunted. I glanced at the dull knife tucked away in his belt. “And I’ll take your blade, too,” I added, hoping the steel was sound enough to pry open my manacles. Arel handed me what little food he had, then the blade, his eyes widening when he saw my bonds. He glanced closer at my face beneath my hood and he gasped. “What?” I growled.

  “It’s you,” the boy whispered. “The Outlaw of Corwick.”

  I frowned. “What nonsense is this?”

  “I saw your face this morning on the posting tree,” the boy said. I could see his body was trembling as he stared at me in awe. “The True King has offered a hundred Jorqs for you.”

  I groaned. Lord Corwick had certainly moved fast with his games. I turned the mare away just as the boy called out to me. I hesitated and looked back. “What?” I grunted.

  Arel peered up at me, his face twisted in seriousness. “Why did you do it?”

  “Here’s some advice, boy,” I said gravely. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  I was tired but relieved when I finally crested the ridge that overlooked Witbridge Manor. I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do about Prince Tyden, but at least I would have the sage advice of Jebido, Tyris, and the others to help me come up with a solution. It was well past midday with the sun glaring down on me as I paused on the ridge and stared down at Witbridge Manor. Whatever feelings I thought I would have at that moment fled as I stared with growing alarm at the faint tendrils of wispy smoke drifting up from where the village had once stood.

  “The lying bastard!” I shouted in fury, slapping my horse into motion.

  I rode haphazardly down the ridge face, my heart thudding with dread as I reached the valley floor and gave the mare her head. I could see more smoke coming from within the walls of the manor itself as the bell began to clang from the watchtower. Several riders appeared through the open gate, heading toward me. I recognized Jebido, Tyris, and Sim, so I slowed to a more moderate pace. Whatever had happened here, I realized, had happened some time ago. Breaking my horse’s legs would do nothing to change that.

  Jebido was the first to reach me and he jumped to the ground as I dismounted, almost pulling me from my feet as he embraced me.

  “Thank the gods!” he said, pushing me away to examine me. “You look terrible.”

  I grimaced, my eyes sliding past him to the ruins of the village. “What happened?” I growled.

  “Outlaws, my lord,” Tyris said. “They came two days ago.”

  “Outlaws?” I grunted, glaring at him. “You are certain of that? Not soldiers?”

  “Not according to Finol, my lord. He insists it was outlaws.”

  “Finol? Weren’t you here?”

  Tyris shifted his gaze to Jebido, then looked away.

  “No,” Jebido said. “The outlaws must have been watching the manor and saw us leave.”

  “You left Witbridge undefended?”

  “I did,” Jebido said, his face coloring, though his eyes had a stubborn cast to them. “It seemed the right thing to do at the time.”

  “And how many people died because of that decision, Jebido?” I snapped. “How many?”

  Jebido looked away and I could see the hurt in his eyes. “More than I care to think about,” he whispered.

  “Then why in the name of The Mother did you do it?”

  Jebido sighed, looking old and worn suddenly. “Because we heard rumors that the Outlaw of Corwick had been seen to the east.” He shrugged and stared at the ground. “I thought you were dead all this time, Hadrack, lost on that damn mountain. The information seemed credible, so I—” He hesitated and looked up at me, guilt heavy on his weathered face. “I had to know if you were alive. I’m sorry, I should have gone alone.”

  I closed my eyes as anger surged through me. The imposter again. I would deal with him once and for all, I promised myself. Finally, I nodded, accepting Jebido’s explanation. Now was not the time to lay blame. Besides, I probably would have done the same thing, had I been in Jebido’s position.

  “There is something else you need to know,” Jebido added.

  I waited, steeling myself for more bad news.

  “Flora is dead,” Jebido said. “The babe too.”

  I groaned at the unfairness of it all and looked at the sky. Why Flora? Why the child? Wasn’t taking Baine from me enough?

  “Hadrack,” Jebido said sorrowfully, putting a hand to my shoulder. “I had to let him go after the bastards. Nothing I said would keep him here. We only heard yesterday about what happened in Gandertown, and I knew you would be making your way back to us. I pleaded with him to wait for you, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I’m sorry.”

  I blinked at Jebido in confusion. “Who? You begged who to wait?”

  Now it was Jebido’s turn to look confused. Realization finally struck him and his mouth sagged open. “Mother’s tit, Hadrack, forgive me for being a stupid old fool. I just assumed you knew for some reason. Baine is alive.”

  26: On The Run

  I stood by Flora’s freshly dug grave, buffeted by so many emotions that I had trouble thinking. Somehow, miraculously, Baine had survived the storm, only to return to Witbridge after his ordeal to find that his wife and child had been brutally slain. I bowed my head wearily, thinking about how pitiless the gods can be to us mere mortals. The soil over the grave was still wet from the previous night’s rain, and I could see deep depressions in the dirt where my friend had knelt, weeping. Shallow puddles filled the hollows, as if the grave itself had chosen to collect Baine’s tears as a testament to his grief. I dropped to my knees where my friend had been, heedless of the muddy water, my own tears falling unchecked as I read the inscription Baine had cut into the marker over the grave.

  Here lies Flora and baby Hadrack

  Wife and son of Baine

  I will not rest

  I will not eat

  I will not sleep

  Until their killers pay

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up at Jebido. “He should have waited for me,” I whispered. “We could have dealt with this together.�
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  “That’s what I told him,” Jebido said grimly. He squeezed my shoulder. “He told me to tell you that you, of all people, will understand that this is something he must do on his own.”

  I bowed my head in acknowledgment. I did understand. I understood all too well.

  Jebido left me after that, and I knelt by Flora’s grave for some time, thinking of the opinionated ex-whore and what she had meant to all of us. Flora had been beloved by everyone in the manor, as well as a favorite among the villagers, and I knew she would be sorely missed. I’d always felt guilty about how I had left Flora to die beneath Calban, bent only on saving Shana. I had even taken Shana to bed after the battle was won, more intent on my own selfish pleasure than the welfare of someone who had risked so much for me. I believe that was the lowest moment in my life, something that I have always deeply regretted. I’d meant to properly apologize to Flora at some point during the last year, but the time had never seemed right. Now it never would be.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I stood and stared down at the grave. “You and your babe deserved better.”

  I turned and headed back to the manor house. I wondered where Baine was right now as I walked, a part of me thinking that I should just forget what he’d asked of me and go after him. Then I thought of Shana and Lord Corwick, knowing that I would have to sacrifice a friend in need for the woman I loved once again. I climbed the long slope up to Witbridge, feeling old beyond my years as I reached the summit and passed through the gate.

  Finol was waiting for me in the courtyard, a squalling baby squirming in his arms. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord,” Finol said, “but our supplies have dwindled and there is no money left. What would you have me do?”

  I glanced at the child. His name was Walice, a recent orphan from the village who Margot, the ex-whore, had rescued from a burning hut. For reasons that escaped me, Finol, though older even than Jebido, had claimed the troublesome babe, vowing to raise him as his own.

  “My lord?” Finol repeated.

  I hesitated, my mind weary from the need to forever solve other peoples’ problems. The imposter Outlaw of Corwick had somehow learned of our stash beneath the floor of Witbridge Manor. That’s why the bastard had raided the holding, leaving us with nothing but a few silver coins. We were still trying to figure out who might have told him of the stash, but for now, I had neither the time nor the energy to conduct a raid to get us more money.

  I shrugged. “Do what you can,” I muttered, waving Finol off as I headed for the manor.

  “But, my lord,” Finol said in exasperation over the cries of the child.

  The bell began to ring on the watchtower and I turned, shading my eyes as riders appeared over the crest of the hill.

  “Close the gate,” I commanded, my lethargy dissipating at the promise of action. Woe to any who tried to attack us now, I thought grimly.

  “It’s all right, my lord,” Putt called down from the watchtower. He pointed over the wall. “It’s Daughter Eleva, back from Halhaven.”

  I nodded, relieved and disappointed at the same time. Daughter Eleva was the village priestess and had been away from the Holy House when the attack occurred. Like me, I imagine she knew nothing of what had happened here. I walked to the gate and watched as she and her retinue hesitated on the ridge as I had, surveying the ruined village. Then they rode toward the manor house. The Daughter was in the lead, with two Daughters-In-Waiting following close behind, along with a grim-faced House Agent that I didn’t recognize. One of the apprentices looked familiar and I squinted as they drew closer. I felt a sudden surge of pleasure and warmth come over me. It was Jin.

  The Daughter reached the gate and I stepped aside as the horses entered.

  “Hadrack!” Jin cried, leaping from her horse. She ran to me and threw her arms around me. “It’s been so long!”

  “This is not how proper Daughters-In-Waiting conduct themselves,” Daughter Eleva said with a sniff. “Compose yourself, child.”

  Jin stepped back, lowering her eyes. “I have missed you so much, Hadrack,” she whispered.

  “What has happened here?” Daughter Eleva demanded. “Who is responsible for this atrocity?”

  The baby chose that moment to scream again, startling all of us. Finol finally managed to quiet the child. “Outlaws seeking gold, I’m afraid,” the steward said. “Many of the villagers died.”

  Daughter Eleva bowed her head and I saw her lips moving in prayer. Finally, she looked up. “Where are the survivors?”

  “We tried to get them to come inside the walls,” Finol explained, “but they refused. They set up a camp in the quarry for now.”

  “Then my place is there,” Daughter Eleva said firmly. She turned her horse and trotted back through the gate, the House Agent silently following. “Come along, girls.”

  Jin held my hand, biting her lip in indecision as the other apprentice followed after the priestess dutifully.

  “Now, Jin!” Daughter Eleva’s voice sounded from outside the walls.

  “You better go,” I said. “We can talk later.”

  Jin reluctantly started to mount her horse, then she ran back and kissed me on the cheek. “You’ve changed, Hadrack. Something is different, but I’m glad you are well.”

  I watched Jin ride away. The girl had said I’d changed and I knew that she was right. Something had shifted in me on that mountain. Something that I could not put into words. I turned and headed for the manor house as Hanley limped toward me, his crooked arm held at an odd angle. The boy had fought well, I’d heard, taking down two outlaws on his own before being wounded in the leg.

  “Gather everyone in the great hall,” I ordered. “We need to talk.”

  Once we were settled, I told Margot and my men everything, only excluding what Sabina had done while I was out of my mind with fever. I still felt great shame about rutting with her, and I knew I wasn’t ready to deal with the questions that would undoubtedly arise if I told them.

  “I was right!” Jebido cried, smashing his fist on the great tabletop when I told them of Ragna the Elder and his son. “By The Mother, I knew She would send the bastards to you one way or another!”

  “I should have known better than to doubt you, my friend,” I said, standing at my familiar spot before the roaring fireplace.

  “That’s the truth,” Jebido grunted.

  “But Sabina’s father and brother?” Tyris said, shaking his head in wonder. “They were two of the nine? It’s hard to believe.”

  Jebido hooked a thumb at me. “The boy is being watched over by the gods. Nothing that happens to him surprises me anymore.”

  “This girl, Sabina,” Margot said, her thin features looking thoughtful. “What became of her?”

  “I neither know, nor care,” I grunted a little too harshly, turning away.

  I knew I appeared callous and cruel to everyone else in the room, but since I had no wish to explain further, that was the way it would have to be. I told them next of my capture by Lord Graaf’s men and the journey to Gandertown, then about my meeting with the supposed, True King.

  “You met the prince, my lord?” Niko asked. “What’s he like?”

  “Sleepy,” I answered to the confused looks of my men.

  I explained the elaborate scheme that Lord Corwick and Hervi Desh had spun, as gasps arose from the listeners. Finally, when I was done and the full significance of the problem had sunk in, the room filled with silence as my men digested the sobering news.

  “So, that’s why you thought soldiers had attacked Witbridge, my lord,” Sim said.

  “Yes,” I nodded. “Lord Corwick said he had men nearby watching the holding.”

  Sim shook his head. “I have been scouting every day, my lord. I’ve seen no such force.”

  “A bluff, then?” Jebido asked.

  “Perhaps,” I said. “With Lord Corwick, it’s hard to tell the truth from untruth.” I put my hands on my hips and looked around. “Now, the question is, what are we going to do
to stop him?”

  Silence filled the room at that, and one by one, the eyes of my men dropped.

  “We could try getting into the city like we did at Calban, my lord,” Niko offered weakly.

  I snorted. “Don’t you think Lord Corwick is ready for that?”

  Jebido sighed and ran his fingers through his silver hair. “I don’t know, Hadrack. I don’t see an easy way out of this one.”

  “You could just go ahead and kill Prince Tyden, my lord,” Margot suggested. Everyone paused to look at her in surprise, and the ex-whore colored at the attention. “I mean, what is the life of one man compared to Lady Shana, anyway?”

  “Because the moment Lord Corwick hears that Prince Tyden is dead,” Putt said scornfully, “he will murder Prince Tyrale and claim the throne for himself. Then nothing will stop him from doing whatever he wants.”

  “Putt is right,” I said. “The only way—” I paused in mid-sentence, my finger pointed at the red-haired outlaw as a thought suddenly struck me.

  “What is it?” Jebido asked.

  I turned, ignoring him as I began to pace before the roaring fire. Would it work? I wondered. I felt excitement starting to build. It just might, but I would need help—very specific help from someone that I could trust. “Niko,” I snapped, spinning around. “Go to the quarry and get Jin right now.”

  “What does she have to do with any of this?” Jebido asked, looking confused.

  I grinned at my old friend. “Jin is the key, Jebido. The key to everything.”

  I looked down from the hills overlooking Halhaven one week later, staring at the city from Angry’s broad back as the morning sun brushed the town’s walls with glittering light. Jebido and Sim sat their horses beside me, waiting together in mutual silence as I went over the plan in my head one more time. I fingered the knife in my belt beneath my soiled cloak, wondering if I had what it took to see this thing through. One mistake, one wrong turn, and Shana would die. It was a terrifying thought.