A Werewolf's Saga, The Beginning (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets Book 3)

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A Werewolf's Saga, The Beginning (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets Book 3) Page 47

by Michael Lampman


  Kenar just watched him, seeing him so helpless; he couldn’t help but to pity him. “He has no fight left in him right now my king. Why can you not see this?” He was right of course. Ever since that day by the river, ever since the start of this war and the death of his sister, Jameson had grown bitter beyond his years. His hatred felt like the heat of the sun on the hottest of days. If he stayed out in it long enough, it would burn him. He feared this was where his young friend was heading. Sometimes, one had to learn when to go back inside and feel the coolness of sympathy before they burned up by the heat of the bitterness that warmed one’s soul.

  Jameson chuckled some with this idea. “And what happens when the fight returns to him? Have you ever thought of that?”

  Kenar just shrugged. He didn’t have any fight in him left either. Who would after this terrible night?

  “We should gather the child.” Jameson saw this, so he turned his attention back to other matters. “We should…”

  Kenar heard his thoughts, and cut him off. “I will take care of her.” He didn’t want this Kalima to hear about his baby girl like that. Why hurt someone who was already crushed?

  Jameson just nodded. Again, he just didn’t care. “Very well then. She was one of you.” He didn’t expect anything else, and he showed this when he turned and left them before anyone had the chance to say anything.

  Kenar didn’t care either way.

  Rochie felt somewhat relieved as soon as Jameson had left. “What do we do now?” He was dying to know since this night ended the way it did. Without something more to go on, he felt winded. He felt ready to call it quits with everything and just go back to his life. He was so tired too.

  Kenar agreed. “We should go and let him grieve.” He turned and stared straight to his friend’s eyes. “We should pay our respects too to all that have been lost.” He tried so hard not to speak her name. Again, he had to respect what he needed, no matter what. He had been through enough.

  Rochie knew this, so he said nothing.

  He just followed his friend outside as he left the tent.

  Kalima didn’t hear them leave. He heard nothing but the emptiness that was now inside his mind. The emptiness told him that his little girl, his little Sima, was gone forever.

  42

  Rochie continued following Kenar until they reached a small tent off the center row of tents near the east end of the encampment. Kenar knew where he was going. Everyone knew where they took those who had fallen, so it wasn’t hard to find it. Arriving there, he found several people lying on rows of tables that looked neatly placed inside. White clothes and other linens covered them completely. Altogether, it was such a sad sight to see all of them like that. To Kenar, they could have been poets. They could have been musicians. They could have been so much more than what they will now forever be.

  Together, they moved down the center aisle and found a small sheet at the far end of the last row. It had to be her, so they walked over to the table, which was twice her size, if not more than that, and stopped at the center of it. Kenar bowed his head.

  So much blood. Half of the white was red. It looked pooled beneath it. The blood looked dark and drying. Not the way a child should end their life.

  “Why are we here doing this?” Rochie had seen death so many times over these past years, and now, standing over a child like this, a child that they were supposed to be helping and protecting, he couldn’t bring himself to see her like this—lifeless. He just couldn’t bring himself to look.

  “We have to pay our respects to her Rochie. It is the least thing that we can do for him.”

  He didn’t agree at all, except for this one thing. “As long as we do not have to see her like she now is. I cannot do that. I cannot see her mangled like this.” The thought of being shot out of the sky, as they were told that she was, could not have made her look as cute as she did when she was alive. He wanted to keep that look inside his memories, and not what the fall obviously would have done to her instead.

  Again, his friend agreed, but only with some of it. He had to see her. He felt it strongly, and he didn’t know why, but he did. He didn’t seem to have the choice.

  “I know how this is bothering you Rochie, but I feel that I must do this. I must see her face. You must look at her because I need your eyes.” He thought about the feeling, and the only thing that made sense to him about it was that he wanted her face to burn its image inside his mind forever. He seemed to want it to haunt him for the rest of his days to remind him of his own hubris. Again, it made sense, so he bent down and pulled back the cloth.

  Rochie felt sick, but he did turn. He did look down.

  What he saw nearly burned his mind with something else that he didn’t understand.

  “It is not her.” Kenar shot a look at Rochie, who was not even looking at him.

  He stayed that way until he heard what he did. He looked at his friend, and their eyes met.

  “You can tell that?” He still had to be sure of this too.

  “I am.” Kenar replaced the cloth over the child’s face. He didn’t know who she was, but he did know that it wasn’t the child. “She must have been taken somehow. They must have hidden her from us in a way that we do not understand.” It now all made sense. Only one person came into his mind as to how they did it. “Rana must have done something. She must have blocked us.” He left the side of the table and moved back out to the center row, and there he stopped and looked down at the floor. He saw nothing at all. If she were somehow making us see things, things that they want us to see, it would explain many things. He thought back to the time before the war and remembered how he was kept in the dark concerning the humans and them possessing a soul. He didn’t see it, and didn’t know why when it was right there, staring him in the face, but now, it made sense. But she was not a part of it then. She did not join them until after the war began. He corrected himself, and if he was right, and now he knew he was, than it had to be someone else doing it. Someone else was not only blocking him but was also showing them things to fool them. He knew of only person that was there the entire time. Devish? It always seems to fall onto him. Now his thoughts felt clear. Now he felt certain about everything. Of course, it was Devish. Who else could it have been?

  Rochie watched him carefully, and he joined him in the center row. “What is it?”

  “He has learned how to plant things inside my thoughts Rochie. Devish has figured out how to blind me in ways that I cannot understand.”

  Rochie already knew this, somewhat already. “So.” He didn’t see the point for the revelation and needed more than what he gave him.

  Kenar looked back to the entrance of the tent, and suddenly felt the human’s thoughts again turn into fear. He felt their chaos. He felt their need for self-survival.

  “Something is wrong.” He concentrated on one person; a young man named Timothy and looked through his eyes.

  He saw the wall circling them. He saw the field out to the forest. He saw objects moving along the ground just before the trees. He saw them as animals. He saw them as the boy saw them, and knew what they were.

  Rochie heard the commotion coming from outside. “What is it now?” He felt too tired for anything else happening tonight. He didn’t know how much more he could take.

  Kenar suddenly knew that the night wasn’t over yet. Devish had more games to play.

  “Wolves are forming along the tree line. They are preparing for another attack.”

  Rochie huffed out with a heavy and long sigh. He placed both hands on his hips. Tiredness overwhelmed him almost all at once.

  “Why? Why would he come after us again?” He didn’t understand Devish at all. Except for the thing’s bloodlust, nothing seemed right about him. Perhaps he was completely insane, more than he ever thought he was.

  Kenar didn’t know. However, one thing, one name, did come up fast. “He was not after the child Rochie.” He turned to his friend with eyes that were as large as the sun. He also felt worrie
d beyond words. “He is here for something, for someone, far more to his needs.”

  Rochie knew who this was. “Why? Why would the boy, or whatever he is, join with Devish?” He didn’t understand this, and now he figured he probably never would. As far as he knew it, the boy wanted nothing to do with any of them. Now, with the loss of his wife and daughter, it would seem that he would just simply wish to die than to fight in a war, no matter what side he may choose to be on.

  Hearing all of this, Kenar couldn’t have disagreed more. “He now has something that Devish can use.” He thought about everything that happened to the boy and it dawned on him about what this could be. “He has destroyed everything. He has destroyed his life, so that now, he has nothing to lose.”

  Rochie already knew this, so it didn’t help him at all. “You just proved my point for me.” He stressed it.

  Kenar took his friend by the shoulders and held him so he could see him, straight to his face. “He does not know about his daughter still being alive. He does not know that what he saw was a game.”

  Rochie did accept this. “Then we must tell him.” They did. He knew the games. Kill everyone, but keep one alive for an advantage. Make your enemy think something about you so they will make their first move. It seemed that he knew Devish better than he thought he did.

  “We must.”

  They both turned and started to the doorway of the tent, but then suddenly, they felt themselves freeze. Their bodies stopped. Their legs wouldn’t move. They couldn’t even turn their heads to look at each other.

  Rochie recognized the feeling instantly. “Rana?” She had to be there. Her gifts were stronger than most, and one of them, the most powerful of them, was her ability to control your body from within your own mind. With this being the case now, she had to know they were there too, but how. How could she feel them without seeing them? She needed to in order to find your mind in the haze of others and control it. He had no idea, but now it didn’t matter. With them locked by her, they wouldn’t be able to do anything.

  Kenar feared this more. “If we cannot get to him and tell him the truth, everything maybe lost.”

  Rochie couldn’t agree more, but he felt completely helpless to do anything about it.

  43

  “How many are there?” Jameson had just took off his armor and was preparing for the night, but when he heard the news from Donte that wolves had begun gathering at the tree line, he hurried to get everything back on.

  “There are many. I am not sure of the numbers.” Donte helped him some with it, and when they were ready, he led his king back outside of his tent.

  Jameson made his way to the west, towards the tree line side of the encampment, walked straight to the guard tower there, the only one that faced the direction of the Walkers, climbed it, and looked west.

  The wolves were everywhere.

  “My gods.” He looked back to Donte, who likewise saw the hordes. He saw the numbers. There looked like hundreds of them. Their numbers even blocked out the trees.

  “What are your wishes my king?” Donte suddenly felt exposed. With this many of them, maybe all of them gathered like this, it felt like an all-out assault. He knew that more could be on the way, including Shades, including Nightwalkers, including lord knows what else.

  Jameson was just content to stay inside the walls, hold out against them and let them waste their numbers, but suddenly, in the center of the gathering of the wolves, he saw something else there. I giant mass was there. With its size, with its height, he instantly recognized him.

  “He is here.” He looked like he was in his wolf’s form. He could see a wolf’s head. He could see his grayish fur glistening in the moon light overhead. It had to be him.

  Donte heard this and looked too. He saw the same things, and it blew his mind into two halves. “Why? Why would he come here like this?” It did seem foolish on his part. It seemed like a waste. It seemed like a gamble that Devish wouldn’t do. However, he was there. He just didn’t know why he was.

  Jameson had an idea. “He must be desperate. He must be running out of time.” It did make sense. Most of the humans on this island were now safe behind his men. Knowing this, Devish must have started running out of humans to eat. Without human blood, he knew that Blood Walkers couldn’t survive, unlike made Walkers that can eat anything. It meant that he was growing weak. It meant that he had to force the issue and head south again. In other words, he has played his final hand.

  With this in mind, he turned back to Donte with a huge smile all over his face.

  “Gather all of our forces at the gate. I want to end this now.”

  Donte felt rather shocked with this, but then again, he had known his friend long enough to know his thoughts on this. He also knew that he had to follow him on it too. Jameson was not one to argue with when his mind was made up.

  “Absolutely my king.” He left the tower quickly. He had work to do.

  Jameson didn’t see him leave. He just stood there and watched the wolves form together in to two distinct groupings, one on the left, and the other on the right. He could also see Devish still standing in the middle of both groups.

  “This ends tonight Devish.” He took a gasping breath, as all of his hatred filled his heart and raced through his veins. “Tonight, you will pay for what you did to me. Tonight I will have my vengeance and your head in my hands.”

  44

  He watched the humans gather at the gate. He watched them as they then rode out from the walls, headed west, and then huddled together into two massive groups. They then formed those groups into spear shaped wedges.

  So typical of you Jameson. You should have changed your tactics by now, but you cannot do it. This is going to be too easy.

  Devish left the tree. He flew high and up. His massive bat’s wings flapped as he circled the encampment, watching everything below him.

  Only a few humans remained in the camp. He could see a few of them gathered around a small tent near the center of the group.

  That is where they have him. He could see their body heat. He could also see his through the top of the tent.

  He circled one last time before he decided to land. He did so at the backside of the tent away from the humans.

  They didn’t even see him land.

  He pushed himself back into his human form before he even set foot on the ground. Once he was, he crossed the back of the tent and made his way to the front entrance, saw two humans guarding it and paused.

  You do not see him. He put this suggestion in his mind. He sent it to them.

  They saw nothing. They didn’t even turn around.

  He made his way through the doorway, and moved inside.

  Seeing him again, he felt warmth caress his mind. He felt the heat of the animal inside him burn through his cool flesh.

  They had him chained to a wooden wall behind him. Both of his hands were clasped against it, and they were locked to the sides of his body. He was on his knees. He could see that his feet were likewise locked.

  He didn’t move. He didn’t look up.

  “Oh my dear boy, what have they done to you?” He moved to him and stopped in front of his knees. He smelled in his scent, and felt its power race through his chest. He smelled as strong as any wolf ever had.

  Kalima kept his head down. “What do you want?” He heard the voice talking to him, and recognized him. Why he asked this, he didn’t know, but he did. In all truth, he did it without thinking about it.

  Devish took his right hand and lifted his chin so he could see his eyes.

  Tears stained his cheeks, and wet his chin. It made his face glisten. They turned his skin to an overpowering orange color by the torches burning on each side of the wall. In all honesty, they made him look even more powerful than he already knew he was.

  “I have come to rescue you my boy.”

  Kalima looked down. “Why would you do that?” He didn’t believe him, but more than anything, he just didn’t care.

 
Devish gave him a solemn nod. It was time to play his game, and to finish it. “I am not the one holding you against your will, my friend. I am not the one who has taken your life from you. I am the one who has been trying to protect you from the pain that they have wrought.”

  He grinned with this. He didn’t mean for it to look like one. He still felt too much pain for that.

  “You started this by bringing your wolves for me.” He pushed away his head from him and broke his touch.

  Devish admired the strength it must have taken for him to do it. His firm grip was nothing without having power, true power, behind it.

  “Even with everything they have done to you, you still blame me.” He stood back up. He moved to the back of the tent, towards the doorway, stopped, and turned back to him. “I did not start this. The Wanderers came to you first. I did not.” He tried to make his voice sound firm, but weak. He tried to let it go low. He wanted to sound sad, and he only hoped it did. He was never sad with much in his life, so he wasn’t sure if he had pulled it off, or not.

  Kalima looked at him as he turned.

  Devish saw his brown eyes. He looked at his black hair. By the gods, did he look so much like him that he felt it hard to keep his concentration for why he was there? It was like looking at a ghost, one that he knew was gone, but was there again.

  Kalima felt the eyes flowing around in the back part of his mind, but didn’t feel them move forwards. It told him that he was getting angry hearing this, but he wasn’t to the point yet of getting mad. He felt sure that the eyes would move forward once he did. They always came when he was angry and when he lost control in it.

  “You sent the wolves,” he growled. Even without the eyes, he was still the wolf.

  Devish bowed his head, and his mind. He so wished that he could see his thoughts, but still couldn’t find them within the void. He no longer cared as to why he didn’t. Only that he couldn’t, mattered the most to him.

 

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