A Wolf in the Dark

by S E Turner

  'No father, just this one,' Namir's response was thoughtful.

  'Perhaps the king took his to use in the battle,' suggested Lyall.

  'He must have done,' agreed Laith. 'They are very special. '

  'But maybe the General stole his sword as well as the Seal,' lamented Namir.

  'Undoubtedly,' agreed Laith. 'And if he did, then he will be using her, as she's pure silver and gold.'

  'How will I know if she's the king's sword?' asked Lyall.

  'Because she's exactly the same as this, except she has a wolf on her hilt.'

  The settlement rang to the sound of steel. Skilled metal workers forged even more swords and lances while the women weaved protective garments and made shields out of layered animal hides. Day after day, the clan trained hard, practising tight phalanxes, forming shield walls, and attacking each other with blunt wooden swords. The noise was a swelling tide with weapon training, war games, and strategic exercises. Horses galloped as weapons were deployed around them. Then there was the rotating wooden octopus with hanging sandbags, and the destriers charged into those as well. This exercise had been executed with such force that, if the practice dummies had been real Ataxatan troops, then they would have been depleted in an instant by the spitted lances and curved sabres.

  Lyall led a regiment of archers and spent most of the daylight hours practising on a prepared shooting field. The butts used mounds of earth for targets, and the archers sent wave after wave of arrows to stand like flags of honour in the dug-up ground. Farmers, gardeners, shepherds, unused to the cutting materials, trained so hard that their fingers bled. So, as well as the cloaks and shield defences, the women made leather finger guards for their protection. Nothing was left to chance, and anything that could strike a devastating blow was excavated and lined up with the ballistas for the greatest impact. Weapons used for hunting the stag and the boar now became even longer and more powerful with razor sharp edges and toughened welded shafts. And when the last of the light had drained from the sky, and a half moon rose over the horizon, the earth stopped moving for a moment and gave them time to breathe.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The General and his men clattered their way along the palace roads and out of the city at dusk. Lights were on in the small pink houses, and curtains twitched nervously as the entourage rode out of town. The hard-stone road that gave away the cavalry morphed into soft green verges, and a light summer breeze pushed small dark clouds to shower and bring the scent of primroses from grassy mounds.

  Compounds of condensation billowed from wide nostrils. Rustling armour and chain mail signalled a dense layer of bodies and beasts. Each soldier and captain strode forward, navigating the others uniformly—they were focused, anxious, silently praying and preparing for the discipline of battle.

  The General's party had a two-day ride. He had decided to go through the pass of the Giant's Claw which took them past rivers, ravines and mountains on their course back to the borders. This was Clan domain and it had to be taken at all costs, for this would form part of his growing Empire. All subjects would be massacred; not one infant would be left alive to come looking for him in years to come. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder.

  No, they all had to go.

  With the army behind him immersed in their own thoughts, the General reined his horse to a halt. 'We rest here,' he said, finding a dense area of forest with the mountain range on the horizon. 'We must collect our thoughts and remind ourselves why we are here. Remember. no man, woman or child must be left alive, and the girl called Skyrah will be taken as my prisoner. Do you all understand that?' He looked at them severely as a thousand faces nodded to him. 'If anyone harms that girl, I will personally disembowel them.' He feasted on the element of fear with a hunger in his eyes. 'We will leave at first light. Anyone found sleeping in and holding up the proceedings will never see the sun rise again.'

  'When do we attack the clan, my lord?' asked a rogue dweller, eager for his first taste of blood.

  'We attack at dusk. That is always the best hour in my experience. They are seldom prepared and never expect a twilight raid. So, rest now, for tomorrow will be a long day, but it will yield the greatest prize.'

  The group dismounted and loosely tied their horses to the branches. The soldiers and captains assisted with the weapons and removed their cumbersome armour. The down and outs and rogues and thieves lounged about in soft leather hides, cackling and jabbering throughout the night. They didn't care what lay ahead or who they killed, they just wanted to sever some limbs and be paid handsomely for it. But the soldiers and captains who had sworn allegiance to the Emperor in waiting knew that those men would not be paid at all, and most would not return home anyway.

  As the General's army settled down for the night, a group of six clan men went unnoticed as they slid down the trees and made their way to a concealed river. They took delivery of their horses and split into three directions.

  'May the gods be with you,' Kal whispered. 'I will go to the Clan of the Giant's Claw with Jonha, and then on to the Marshland tribe. Sable and Godan, go to the Hill Fort. Nemi and Bray, go back and tell Laith. The General is on the move and will attack at dusk tomorrow.'

  'To Freedom!'

  They raised their arms in a salute and disappeared into the night to deliver their news.

  Chapter Forty

  Skyrah was proudly grooming Meteor and rubbing wax into his fetlocks and hooves.

  'What are you doing?' quizzed Namir as he walked past her with his comrades.

  'Getting Meteor ready for battle, of course.'

  'Why? Who's going to ride him?'

  'Namir, stop with all the questions. I'm going to ride him.' She continued shining his coat with a fist of wool soaked liniment.'

  'I don't think so, Skyrah. Fighting is men's work.'

  She stopped abruptly and faced him. 'Namir, how can you say that to me, and how can you lot stand by and let him?' She burrowed all of them with fire in her eyes. 'I have done so much to secure your freedom. I have shown unrivalled bravery and skills. I have trained with you and stood by you. My charger is the finest stallion on the field, and he will protect me. You must let me come, too.'

  'This is too dangerous. Way too dangerous for a girl. We are fighting grown men now with superior weapons. You are no match for them, I am sorry, Skyrah. They will kill you.'

  'The General is coming to take you back again. We cannot risk that,' said Lyall supporting his brother's decision.

  She cried out in defiance: 'You, Clebe, didn't you say never underestimate the power of a woman?'

  He looked like a startled mountain goat caught off guard. 'Yes, I did, Skyrah. I did say that, and I meant every word.'

  'And you, Ronu. Didn't you pay tribute to my strength and resourcefulness?'

  'Yes, I did.' He looked to the floor thankful that this wasn't his decision to make.

  'All of you know that I am strong enough and skilled enough in the use of weapons. You know I am; you know how strong I am and that I have the heart and soul of a warrior.'

  She saw Namir thinking about it. She tried again with another approach. 'If I am hiding with the women and children when the General comes looking for me, then their lives will be at risk. You know what Meric said: he will spare no one in his pursuit.'

  'She's right, brother,' said Lyall. 'You know what that sick lowlife is capable of. At least with Skyrah on the battlefield with us, we will know where the General is.'

  'I don't like it either,' said Ronu. 'But we can protect Skyrah if she stays close to us. There is no one to protect our families in the camp if he goes looking for her there.'

  'I agree with Ronu and Lyall,' said Clebe. 'We have to keep the General away from those in the camp, because he won't care who he slaughters, be it a babe in arms or the mother who is nursing.'

  Her eyes pleaded with Namir. Her very being reached out to him and gradually she saw the defiant frown soften.

  'I'm no
t happy about this, Skyrah, you know I am not, but a valid point has been raised in keeping the General away from the camp and keeping you in our sights.'

  She started to stroke Meteor again but looked directly at Namir.

  '... all right ... I agree, but only if you promise that you stay close to me, or any one of the clan soldiers. You must promise me that.'

  'I will, Namir. I promise.'

  The boys smiled at her and went to join the others and collect their armour. It was only Namir who stifled his true feelings of deep concern. But his angst was replaced with pride when he saw how splendid each man looked in their protective chainmail hauberks and coifs and equally protective chainmail leggings and gauntlets. Each man had a sword and mace secured safely in a leather scabbard on their right side, a battle axe fixed firmly into a belt on their left side, and a dagger in their right boot. Some had poles and lances. Lyall had asked for a crossbow, and Namir had a spear. Skyrah strode Meteor out and placed a hand-crafted metal flanchard around his flanks and a jacked leather shaffron over his head. All the women and children had spent hours upon hours making protective battle garments for the horses, so they were all attired in the same barding. And now, for the first time, the riders sat high in the saddle, feeling like powerful knights and lord protectors.

  'You look like a warrior,' said Namir, smiling under his tight-fitting skullcap.

  'That's the desired effect.' Lyall paraded round the camp, practising his aim.

  Skyrah was adorned in similar battle dress, with a detailed chain mail protective tunic and leggings, rich woven gauntlets, and a thick woollen cloak. She wore a linen shirt and a woollen garment under the tunic to protect her small frame. She was armed with a magnificent mahogany cross bow studded with nuggets of coral and turquoise. A set of highly polished arrows with extraordinary ivory flights and the smoothest steel tips were secured in a fur sheath. She took out her dagger and added a final sheen as she wiped the blade across her thigh. It flashed against the sun's rays and made her squint for a second. 'I shall call you heart-breaker.' A kiss sealed its baptism, and heart- breaker was placed carefully inside her leather boot.

  'You take care, daughter. I want you to come home safely.'

  'I will, Mother, I have promised Namir and Lyall that I will stay close to them.'

  'The plants won't help you now, my beautiful girl. You have to pray to your totem to protect you.'

  'I have done that, Mother, but I also have my valiant steed. Look how strong he is.'

  'Yes, he is a magnificent horse.' Chay whispered into Meteor's soft ears. 'Please bring my precious child back to me safely. '

  He nodded his head up and down with assurance.

  'See, I told you he understands every word you say to him.'

  'If only men were that easy to make understand,' she teased, and threw Skyrah a knowing glance.

  'Come now, my dear,' said Meric, comfortingly. 'She is in good hands. She is a brave warrior. Her totem has looked after her so far. Let her go now and fulfil her final call of duty, then we can all celebrate and welcome peace back to the clan.'

  'My dear, Meric. What would I do without you?'

  This time it was Skyrah who threw her mother a knowing glance.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The Ataxatan foot soldiers and archers had already taken their positions. Their battle formation was a massive phalanx of shielded soldiers, six ranks deep. The better armoured men were positioned at the front, and locked shields in the same manner as the back ranks. The front line of soldiers had the point of their spear aimed at their victim's chests, and those behind had their weapons levelled at the horses. Their elite band of archers would give close support to the hand to hand fighters. These were men who marched into battle bearing no fear, for they believed that in death the Ataxatan chariots would take them to the imperial kingdom to sit with their god Ataxa for eternity.

  The rest of the Ataxatan army saddled up and remounted, and the immense cavalry rolled across the land in a north easterly direction. The forest opened up into far reaching views of the plains, and the Clan of the Mountain Lion was looming over the horizon. The General and his men plunged through this opening, riding furiously, their horses drenched with sweat and frothing at their mouths. There wasn't much further to go now, and the General ordered his men to be alert and ready as they raced onwards into ambush territory.

  At last they could see it. They saw the banners and the lanterns, they heard the horns and the drums, and they felt the fear and the panic. They could smell the blood. Vortim Vontiger was the second in command, and he brought his mount to a twisted, rearing halt beside the smirking General. As his horse frothed and sweated profusely, he shouted out over the pulsating bodies. 'This is it, men. Form up deep and narrow and keep a tight formation. We are going to smash their ranks with our mass.'

  A mile or so away, Namir spoke like he had never spoken before, as he felt the strength of honour and duty running through his veins.

  'Let us go now as warriors, and those who give their lives for the clan, may your resting place be divine, and may you be richly rewarded in your next life.' He bowed his head solemnly and prayed to the gods and spirit guides for strength and fortitude. 'Fill your souls with fire! Fill your lungs with determination! Fill your hearts with passion, and together we will be victorious!'

  As they looked out across the plains, they all felt an odd mixing of elation and fear. How long would they have to wait before the other clans arrived? They were desperate for their support.

  Namir shot a look over to Skyrah and saw that she was flanked by four men. He didn't care that she was not happy about it; he was not entirely happy about her being on the battlefield anyway. Regardless of what everyone had said, she shouldn't be here. Right now, he couldn't wait for this day to be over, because there was something even more pressing at the back of his mind.

  But then his thoughts turned to something other than Skyrah as he felt the flats tremble beneath him and the horses began to fidget nervously. His palms moistened as noises were heard in the distance. The dark shadows slid away, and the wind picked up pace as a drum beat crept under his skin. And there they were, storming through the mountain pass and beating the path to destruction.

  'Dear mother of gods, it's him,' shuddered Lyall. His gaze was on the General clad in red robes and a gold helmet and riding his black charger.

  The General surged forward, leading the cavalry into battle. They fired their arrows into the air and a war horn blew. Lyall pushed the knot of fear to the pit of his stomach and stood up tall in his saddle. He was looking for the allies. They should be here by now. He should be seeing a storm of dust to announce their arrival. And then he spied the bobbing rows of moving lanterns. It was the torches from the other clans flowing like molten lava round the sides of the mountain.

  'Thank the gods,' he exclaimed. 'They are here and look how many men they have gathered.'

  There were thousands of them. The Clan of the Mountain Lion whooped and yelled in absolute elation. 'There's Torré, waving the banner, leading his troops. Look how tall he sits.' shouted Namir .

  'And look who sits alongside him,' yelled out Skyrah, seeing Lace.

  This formidable woman bore the tattooed insignia of a female emperor moth which covered the whole of her back. The four coloured wings spread across each shoulder blade and lower back with four large vacuoles that became her rear eyes. The body of the saturniid ran down her spine, and the antenna reached towards her shoulders. This was her metamorphism, this was her power, this was her strength and her extraordinary beauty.

  'Look at Siri and Dainn, they are coming from the other side. Look at the masses they have with them. And there is another woman that rides alongside Dainn who looks strong and valiant.'

  They all stared at the vision before them, their spears a hedge and their shields a wall, and then the tumultuous shouting and yelling began with the banging of shields, and the army moved forward. The General wouldn't have seen the joyful fac
es in front of him, and he wouldn't have seen the sheer mass of young men filing in from the flanks. His army was still charging through the very centre of the pass. The clan's torches kept on coming, bearing flags and banners of power. The drums were beating, and the horns blew out loud. The Ataxatan army looked beaten already. From that moment, they knew that the clan's soldiers could outdo the General's, and that they could slay twice as many as their own number. That's what gave them unfathomable strength and determination as they stood their ground defiantly. Namir breathed in the enormous power from the generating wind and bellowed out his order to move in. Three hundred blades left their scabbards in flight, and the entire force of the clans leaped to the attack, storming over the battlefield towards the General rushing in towards them.

  The ground shook with the stampeding sound of hooves thumping rhythmically into the grass lined plain, and the earth trembled as a thousand foot soldiers ran in to support them. They didn't have time to panic—adrenalin and a much greater force took over and carried them along with a combination of excitement and fear. Skyrah's voice rose in power above the din of the galloping cavalry, shouting out her warrior's cry, getting energy from Meteor. He thundered in like a war horse, a valiant charger showing no fear. She leaned in to the animal's quickening pace, tightening her grip on her reins as she urged him on. Foot soldiers with spears and daggers ran in first to cause as much chaos and slaughter as they could.

  Dainn reached for his weapon whilst in a gallop, swiftly fixed a bow to the string of his crossbow and sent it flying through the air into the jugular of his first victim. A second arrow followed into the heart of another assailant. Siri came in with the advance and sent in a squadron of archers to deploy their weapons. Skyrah went with Ronu and Norg, firing their arrows and catapults as they moved in.