“I’m Mackenzie Weir, of Clan Weir, daughter to the chief, and sword maiden,” she said between clenched teeth. “Come at me if you dare,” she threatened.
The two men smirked.
“Lass, yer going to be warming me bed tonight, and for a long time to come, that's who ye are,” he said.
“So be it,” she countered.
She rolled forward over her sword, then picked it up as she came to a stand. The blade flashed out. The men were taken back but they didn’t retreat. They circled her; the one with the net went right, the other left. Her wolf told her that this was dangerous, that fighting two opponents like this only led to defeat. Whoever she turned to face the other would attack.
The spear put her at a severe disadvantage, its length countered her sword, and he could always stab at her ankles to wound her.
She charged him. He lunged with his spear, both hands on it in a powerful skewer. Her sword came up and slapped the spear aside. She spun and brought the blade hard against his shoulder. For sixteen years, her mother’s sword had adorned the throne room. Yet, it was still as sharp as a wolf’s fang and it bit to the bone. The man screamed, dropped his spear and grasped his nearly severed arm.
As she took a step away from him, the net came down on her. The weighted ends wrapped around her, and the fine mesh tangled with her sword.
“Skewer the bitch, we can find another,” yelled the wounded one.
The last man pulled a long dagger from his belt. He approached her with care. Mackenzie tried to bring her sword up, but the blade was pinned to her side by the net. She screamed in frustration and rage, a scream that turned into a howl as the man sunk his dagger deep into her stomach.
Intense pain made her vision go red and her heart felt like it would explode from her bosom. He pulled the dagger out. Mackenzie fell to her knees from the pain. Her legs felt weak and her breathing came in short, shallow gulps.
“Not so fancy with yer sword now, are ye?”
She looked up to the man who stood over her; he twirled his dagger in the air, her own blood dripping from it. A burning anger ignited deep within her. A rage unlike any she had ever felt. A fire that burned away the pain, fear and doubt.
A low, dangerous growl slipped from her throat, the kind that made men’s blood freeze, and their hackles rise.
With a strength she never imagined she had, she burst the net around, the fibers tearing, unable to contain her force. With both hands, she raised her sword high above her head and brought it down on the man’s wrist. The dagger, and the hand holding it, fell to the ground. She spun and plunged the sword into his chest before he had time to scream about his hand. The blade bit to the hilt and wedged itself into the bone. He collapsed.
“Gods in heaven, what are ye?” the spear holder said.
Mackenzie turned her clear blue eyes on him. “I am death,” she said. In one step she turned to her wolf, she couldn’t have stopped the transformation if she tried. The man screamed in fear, turned and ran as fast as he could. Mackenzie could smell the fear on him. Her instincts took over and she ran him down. She slammed into his back, a mass of claws, teeth and snarls. He screamed as she bit into him.
“Stop, spare me please,” he yelled in horror.
She found the spot at the back of his neck, placed her jaw around it and snapped them shut. His screamed stopped as his neck broke.
Satisfied that she was in no more danger, Mackenzie trotted back to her small camp. She stopped by the body of her first kill, her mind catching up with what she had done. In between beats of her heart, she turned back into the girl. She looked down at the body, unable to comprehend the level of violence she had brought to bear. She sat promptly on her ass and sobbed. Her whole body shook as tears washed her face.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The snow collected on Mackenzie’s shoulders while she waited. The rock she had picked out stood taller than any other in the ravine that was home to the Revenaugh. Though years had passed since the last time it bothered the village, she was still stunned at the distance she covered before she found its lair.
Two days, two whole days, anything could have happened by now!
Freya quietly chided her for impatience. Mackenzie could feel her other like a ghostly limb that she couldn’t see, only feel. She waited though, quietly, in the snow, watching. The giant cave the boar called home stood fifty feet from her. Its mouth was wide enough for several grown men to walk into shoulder to shoulder. She had never seen the beast, she had only heard stories, and if it was as big as the cave, the stories didn’t lie.
Her breath turned to steam as it left her mouth. The snow didn’t bother her, though it should, she thought. Her body seemed to keep itself warm. She closed her eyes and thought of Thor, her dearest love, far away, possibly fighting by now. She prayed to whoever would listen that he and her da would be safe.
Listen, Freya said.
She closed her eyes to shut out the world. Her ears picked up the angry snarls and snorts. She opened her eyes in time to see him emerge from the cave. The stories didn’t do the great boar of the north justice. Six feet tall at the shoulders, and she could only guess that he weighed as much as twenty men. His massive tusks dragged on the ground until he lifted his head to look at the sun.
Okay, Freya, this is yer plan, what now?
He’s skittish but you need to get on him like a horse, and whatever you do, don’t drop the antlers!
This is yer plan? Mount him like a horse? I’m gonna die.
Don’t be silly, he’s really quite gentle once you placate him.
I’m not sure what that word means, but I’ll try.
Mackenzie stepped cautiously out from behind the boulder, her feet finding the path almost on their own. She was careful to be upwind of him so she could smell him, but he couldn’t smell her. His malodorous scent wafted on the cold air. Gusts of steam like dragons breath filled the air in front of him.
“He’s a damn big beastie,” Mackenzie whispered to herself.
Just like I showed you lass, up the side and over.
With a deep breath, Mackenzie shot off over the snow covered ground. It still amazed her, that virtually naked, the cold didn’t bother her. Freya said it was her wolf’s coat, whatever that meant. She plowed through the ankle deep snow right up to the creature's flank before vaulting up on its haunches.
Its animal awareness kicked in just as she leapt onto him. The Revenaugh squealed as it threw its back into a tremendous arch. The mass of the creature lifted off the ground and slammed down with a tremendous rumble ten feet away.
Mackenzie clung to his rough fur with one hand, while the other scrambled to get a hold. The creature burst into a frenzy, driven near mad by the girl that clung to his back. With each buck of his hips, Mackenzie slammed down into his leathery hide, her joints ached as she pulled herself up. She couldn’t imagine the strength she exerted to move forward each inch. After a few seconds, her hand found the ridge that was his spine. His wild squeals echoed in her ears at deafening volumes.
Now what?
Get to his neck and use the antler to scratch behind his ears.
What? That’s your plan? Give him a good scratch?
You’ve raised pigs before Mackenzie, you know how they are; he’s just a big pig. Trust me.
Wordlessly, Mackenzie nodded. Each time she let go of his back, it was treacherous. The boar’s massive body bounced and jerked in odd angles. Without warning, he stopped. Mackenzie scrambled up the rest of the way and straddled his neck, between his two massive ears.
The Revenaugh had different plans. With a speed unimaginable for its size, it charged the sheer rock wall of its home.
Fingers numb from the pressure of grabbing, Mackenzie fumbled with the leather string that secured the antlers to her back. The rock wall loomed ever closer. She brought the antlers down and raked them across the small divot where his ear met his body.
The reaction was immediate.
The massive boar – the dre
aded beast of the north – collapsed into a quivering pile of happiness. Mackenzie held on for dear life as it tilted sideways and crashed into the ground. Within a second, she was back up scratching behind his ears with the bucks antlers she had fought so hard for.
A half hour of this, and he’s yours for life.
She wasn’t lying. After a few minutes, he squirmed on the ground and rolled to the other side, his ear flap standing up so she could get to the sensitive spot that he could never reach. She obliged, scratching just as hard. Despite the cold, she worked up a hard sweat that covered her head to toe in frost.
Her stomach growled a warning to her. Saliva built up in her mouth and the first pangs of hunger started.
Freya, I need to eat soon, what do I do?
Well you don’t want to eat him, but look, he’s asleep.
Her wolf was right, the boar snoozed peacefully, it’s massive belly rising gently with each breath.
Quietly, Mackenzie put the antlers down, took a few steps away from the boar, then charged the end of the ravine. With a leap that covered thirty feet at least, Mackenzie changed from girl to wolf in the blink of an eye. Instantly, her perception changed. She could smell the boar, the rabbits, everything.
At the top of the ravine, she picked up the scent of a buck. She charged after it, a low growl escaped her mouth. She ran so fast the deer never had time to move. She leapt out of the bushes catching it completely by surprise. Her jaws clamped down on his neck, bearing him to the ground with her weight. He struggled for a moment and then died. Mackenzie was lost in a frenzy of hunger. Her exertion at befriending the boar drove her to find fuel. She tore into the buck before its last breath left its body.
The wolf would not wait.
*
Mackenzie fretted at the progress they were making. The sun still hung high in the sky when she had to stop to scratch the Revenaugh’s ears – again. Each stop lasted one-third of an hour, at least. Not to mention the fierce beast that sent grown men to weeping tended to fall asleep while she was scratching his ears.
Freya was right, though; she had a friend for life. While awake, the Revenaugh would follow her everywhere while snorting and squealing like any piglet she’d ever been around. Each night they slept, and they were on their third day, she half expected him to wander off by morning. He didn’t, he eagerly awaited his morning scratches, and his mid morning, afternoon, mid afternoon, and as much as he could get in the evening.
“Oh come on you great big baby, can’t ye wait just a little longer,” she cursed at him.
His ears flopped open to reveal the desired spot. She couldn’t help but grin at the beast. Despite his size, once he wasn’t trying to kill her, he was quite cute.
However, her worry about her village and Thor was gnawing at her. Each day she spent away was another day Kirkpatrick’s army could have marched through the village. If anyone died due to her delay, she would have to live with it. She couldn't stand the thought of losing any of the people she grew up with, Deirdre, her da, Cesan, each one held a place in her heart she didn’t want vacant.
“Enough’s enough, yer just going to have to wait,” she said. She hooked the antlers on to his collar, next to where her mother's sword hung. She had fashioned the collar for him out of buckskin. The collar allowed her to shift without worrying about clothes.
They’d left the snow behind the previous day and she could smell the trees on the cool breeze that flowed through the air.
“Were almost to the outskirts of me da’s territory, so behave, ye little beggar.”
She didn’t think the Revenaugh could understand her but it helped to talk to someone. Freya had been strangely quiet since she captured the great boar of the north.
She wasn’t sure exactly how long she’d been apart from Thor, but it felt like forever. She could almost feel him when she closed her eyes. She could imagine his touch, the way his tongue lingered in her mouth, his rough hands on her sensitive nipples, how he moved when he was inside her. A familiar heat rose up in her stomach, warming her whole body. Her nipples hardened and goosebumps rippled through her skin.
Get ahold of yerself girl, what is wrong with ye?
Nothing’s wrong with you Mackenzie, we call it the call of the wild.
The what?
You have to remember, you're as much wolf now, as you are girl.
And?
Well… you are at your most uhm… fertile.
Oh god, ye mean I’m rutting like a dog in heat?
Even though no one was around, she covered her face out of embarrassment.
Yes.
Mackenzie could hear the amusement in her voice.
“Hold up beastie, I need to hop over to Deirdre’s farm and snatch some clothes, it would do me no good to come home naked as the day I was born,” she said to the Revenaugh. She led him to a small copse of trees where she fed him from the mushrooms she foraged and scratched his ears until he was pleasantly snoozing.
She left the creature hidden in the trees and made her way to Deirdre’s farm. She didn’t want to be seen, and she didn’t want to go as a wolf, it would scare all the animals her friend’s da raised.
The farm was just how she remembered it. Though the last time she visited was scarcely two weeks before, it felt like months.
Lets see, it’s late afternoon so Deirdre should be out milking their lone cow.
Crouched low, Mackenzie approached the farm through the tall brush. She could hear the animals; even smell them. She had eaten a large breakfast, so while her stomach didn’t growl, it made complaints that she wasn’t gobbling up the hens that were roaming free.
She heard the sound of bare feet in mud and a thatch door being shut. The footsteps were to be Deirdre’s da. Sure enough a few seconds later; Deirdre came into view.
Now for the hard part.
Mackenzie hid herself behind the chicken roost so that only her head was visible. When Deirdre passed not twenty feet away, with a stool and a pale for milking, Mackenzie whistled once to get her attention. Deirdre stopped and looked around. Her eyes came to rest on her friend and her face burst into excitement.
“Mack,” she cried as she dropped her pail and stool and ran to her. She rounded her hiding spot, despite Mackenzie’s attempts to get her to stop, and slid to a halt.
“Mackenzie, why're ye naked?”
“It’s a long story, do you still have some of me clothes here?”
“Aye, but I thought you were gone? Yer da said you couldn’t come back, and I hadn’t even heard ye were gone till after ye were married. What happened?”
“Clothes first okay, I don’t want yer da or Cesan coming about and finding me this way.”
“Aye, lets git ye some clothes, but no worries, they’re in town, for the battle.”
A cold shiver went down Mackenzie’s spine.
“Deirdre, what battle?”
“Yer husband, Lord Kirkpatrick, rode into town and declared himself our master. Yer da called all his fine men together to fight. I haven’t heard if it started or what, but all the men in the village are there.”
“He’s not me husband, we were only handfasted, and it…,” she shuddered to think of her time with him, “...did nae work out.”
Deirdre led them inside to her small thatch hovel. A hand carved trunk ordained one corner. In it, Deirdre stored all her clothes and belongings, to protect them from the constant wet weather. “Here ye go, yer blue riding dress, remember this one?”
Mackenzie nodded as she pulled the dress over her head and down her body. “Feels like forever since I’ve been dressed, thank ye,” she said.
“Mackenzie, there something I have to tell you …” Deirdre looked down at her feet.
“Are ye okay?”
“Well, we thought… we thought ye were gone and nae coming back… Cesan, he asked me …” Deirdre stumbled over her words.
“Oh….OH! That’s great Deirdre, I’m so happy for the both of ye,” Mackenzie said. A pain of hurt hit her
heart. It was unfair, and out of place, since she left and found Thor, but that was different.
Was it though, was it different?
“Yer not mad at us?”
“My two friends found love, nae lass, not mad at all, but I have to go. I need to get back to the caern before the fighting starts.”
“Why? What are ye going to do? Surely, not go back to Kirkpatrick,” Deirdre said as Mackenzie opened the thatch door.
“Oh, I’m going back to him all right,” she growled out the words in a way that sent Deirdre's hackles up.
THE FINAL CHAPTER
The Revenaugh was just where she left the big beast. His snores echoed through the forest sending small critters scrambling for their lives.
“Up ye go,” she said as she patted his side. He awoke with a snort, his legs flexing as he scrambled to his hooves. Not for the first time, Mackenzie stood in awe that such a massive creature could move that fast.
No wonder he’s never been caught. Anyone looking at him would think he was slow.
She climbed up on his back and straddled his neck. She used the makeshift collar to hold on as he started trotting through the trees. She checked her mother’s sword, though she wasn’t sure how much she would use it in the looming battle.
Have a care, girl, if you turn into a wolf in front of your people, they may not be understanding.
I hadn’t really thought about that, what do you suggest? My da won't let me on the field as I am. Even if he thinks I’m like me ma.
Don’t give him the choice. Wait for the battle to start, then charge in the flank with our new friend. His size alone should scatter Kirkpatrick’s men and send them fleeing.
Mackenzie liked the plan. She could rally her da’s men and use the Revenaugh's size to get right to Kirkpatrick. She leaned down over the great beast's head and scratched behind his ear. He seemed so sweet and friendly now, she had a hard time imagining him as a great ravenous beast that killed men and destroyed farms.
Freya, where do I go when I die? Do I go to me ma’s in Valhalla, or do I go with my ancestors on me da’s side? It’s not something I’ve ever had to think about before.
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