THEIR ARRIVAL back in the village that night came as a surprise to everyone, no one more than Eldric, who had been enjoying a rare day off. He came out of his house and glared accusatorially at Angest, who shrugged his shoulders. Wulfric’s cheeks began to ache, and he realised it was because he had spent the past hours with a smile permanently fixed to his face.
As they rode toward the stables, Wulfric noticed the ribbon tucked into his sleeve. He had forgotten all about it, but wondered if it had brought him luck. It also reminded him of Svana, and her dramatic change of attitude toward him. It was flattering that she had given him the ribbon, but as he twisted it between his fingers he got a hollow feeling inside that sapped all the joy from the day’s success.
A rider was dispatched to fetch the others back, but for the apprentices in Wulfric’s party there was time for a well-deserved rest. He wondered how Helfric would react when he found out that Wulfric had been right all along, and that had he waited for only another hour, he would have been able to share in their success. He left the stables clutching his saddle to his chest, looking forward to the prospect of a day off.
He saw Adalhaid after going only a few paces. His initial reaction was to rush over and tell her about his day, but he stopped himself mid-step. The old ease with which they always talked seemed lost to him. It had been growing for some time, but this was the first time he had felt it looming between them like a great obstacle. He realised that he was afraid to speak to her, as if he did not know what to say any more. He considered continuing on without speaking to her when she turned and spotted him.
‘You’re back early,’ she said. Her smile looked forced.
‘We had some luck,’ Wulfric said. ‘Looks like I’ll be getting a day off for a change.’
‘It wasn’t luck from what I heard. You didn’t fall for their trick and go south with the others.’
‘It wasn’t taking much of a risk. The others went south, so one of us was bound to catch them. I was lucky.’
‘Perhaps it was Svana’s ribbon that brought it.’
Wulfric shifted uncomfortably and wanted to hide under his saddle. ‘You saw that.’ He knew that she had.
Adalhaid nodded. ‘It’s nice to see you getting on better. It must make life easier for you.’
‘I haven’t really thought about it like that. It’s all new. I’m not sure how long it’ll last.’
‘I hope it works out for the best. I need to get going.’ She started to walk away.
‘Wait,’ Wulfric said. He took a deep breath, but it did little to slow the maelstrom in his head and chest. ‘I wish that it had been yours. The ribbon, that is.’
Adalhaid blushed, and opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. ‘I have to go,’ she said finally. ‘I have chores.’
She was gone before Wulfric could think of something to say to stop her, leaving him to feel that he would happily give up being a warrior to have her there for one moment longer.
19
Wulfric opened his eyes and looked around with the confusion that always accompanied waking from a deep sleep. It was still early, and they had been given the day off as a reward for their quick success on the ranging. It took him a moment to register a commotion outside and pounding on the door. Anshel and the others were due back that morning, but Wulfric didn’t see why that would cause such a disturbance, unless they had an encounter of their own. Wulfric jumped out of bed and pulled on some clothes.
‘Strong Arm! Wulfric!’ A dozen bangs on the door accompanied the shout.
Wulfric got to the door first. It was Eldric.
‘When did you last see Helfric?’ Eldric said.
‘Yesterday. Midday I think. He turned around about an hour before we found Angest and Waldegrim. He said he was going to join up with the others.’
‘They’re back. They haven’t seen him. We’re going to have to go out and look. Get your gear and meet at the stables. Bring your father. Everyone’s riding out.’
ELDRIC WAS NOT EXAGGERATING when he said everyone was riding out. By the time Wulfric and his father got to the stables, every warrior and apprentice was there, preparing their mounts. The six recently returned apprentices had joined the throng, no doubt ruing the fact that a good sleep in a proper bed was farther away than they had thought. Helfric would not be popular with them when he turned up. Wulfric wondered what had happened to him, and questioned his own behaviour. Could he have been firmer with Helfric the day before?
Anshel walked over as soon as he saw Wulfric.
‘What in hells happened?’ he said.
‘Helfric thought we made a mistake heading north and decided to head back and join your group.’ Wulfric almost added ‘he wouldn’t listen to me’, but chose not to.
‘He never got to us,’ Anshel said.
‘He could be anywhere. There was no sign of him when we came back, but I suppose we weren’t looking.’
‘I’ll take a group to the hunting lodge and work our way back,’ Eldric said, breaking up Wulfric’s conversation. ‘Wulfric, you come with me. If he was moving fast to get back to Anshel’s group, he’ll have left an obvious trail. The rest will spread out for a wider sweep.’
‘I’m coming with you.’ It was Berthold, Helfric’s father.
Wulfric worried that he would be blamed, but Berthold seemed concerned rather than anything else.
‘We leave as soon as you’re all ready,’ Wolfram said. Now that Wulfric’s father was there, everyone deferred to him.
The ease with which leadership came to Wolfram and how everyone followed his commands without question was not lost on Wulfric. Had he an ounce of his father’s influence, perhaps the whole mess could have been avoided. Wulfric hoped that Helfric would turn up safely. He could not help but feel that the finger would be pointed at him if something bad had happened.
WULFRIC FELT an obligation to be the one to find the tracks that led them to Helfric. His eyes burned from the constant scanning of the ground in front of him. He had been eager to impress when doing the same task the day before, but now he felt a sense of panic. A leader was responsible for his men, and Wulfric had allowed Helfric to take that control from him. The woods were a harsh place, filled with unpleasant things. A fall from a horse was one thing, but even in late spring, the presence of belek could not be discounted and that was before considering bears or wolves. In that forest, a sprained ankle could be fatal.
Wolfram was the one to spot deep hoof prints in the forest litter—the sign of a rider moving at speed. There was silence as they followed the tracks until they stopped a few paces from a fallen tree trunk. The tracks continued on the other side, but were not as deep. The horse had shed its burden. They found Helfric a few paces farther on.
Wulfric had seen the dead before, but never anything like Helfric. It seemed that he had crawled from where he had fallen to lean against a tree. There were no signs of a struggle around where his body rested. Wulfric hoped that meant he was already dead when the wolves got there. He involuntarily glanced at Berthold, who had not uttered a sound. His face was pale, but his jaw was firmly set. Warriors did not show pain. Death was part of their life; it was something they accepted when they chose that course.
‘What will I tell his mother?’ Berthold said, breaking the silence. ‘She’ll want to see him, but I can’t let her, not like this.’ He choked out the final few words.
Wulfric looked to his father, but his face gave nothing away. He had seen violent death many times; for Wulfric, it was a new experience. Being so close to it made many confusing things seem blatantly clear. When death could come so easily, there was no point in living his life to someone else’s expectations.
HELFRIC’S BODY was treated with all the dignity afforded to a fallen warrior. Eldric went on ahead to have the others notified that the search was over, while Wulfric and the rest of them returned with the corpse. Berthold rode in front with his son tied to the back of his horse. Wulfric and his father gave him space. Wulfric fou
nd it difficult to look anywhere other than the supine form on Berthold’s horse.
‘It’s not your fault, you know,’ Wolfram said.
‘Isn’t it? I couldn’t make him follow my orders.’
‘Not your fault. Most lads starting their apprenticeship see themselves as First Warrior one day. No warrior is born to follow, and they never truly resign themselves to doing it. They fight for men they respect and trust, and those are two things it takes years to earn, not just a morning. Hane told me Anshel named you to lead the party. That means you’re on the road to earning those things, but some’ll take longer than others to come around. Helfric made his choices, and they led him to being carried home on the back of a horse. That’s the way it works sometimes.’
Seeing Helfric drove home to Wulfric how fleeting life could be. The whole way back from finding the body, he felt an overwhelming sense of impatience. One thing stood out above the others. He had avoided confronting whatever was causing the distance between him and Adalhaid; allowed himself to continue in a cowardly state of confusion rather than addressing it directly. Seeing Helfric like that crystallised the problem for him. Had Helfric been able to muster the support of the others the previous day, it might well have been Wulfric who was left alone in the forest. It might well have been his half-eaten corpse they found slumped against a tree. There would be no more confusion. He knew what was causing it, and he knew what he wanted.
As soon as they reached the stables Wulfric jumped straight from his horse and went to Adalhaid’s house. He knocked on the door and took a step back to wait. His heart thumped in his chest. Adalhaid opened the door.
‘I don’t know what’s come between us, but if it’s my fault I’m sorry,’ he blurted out. ‘I miss you. You’ve always been the most important thing in my life, and I want it to stay that way.’
‘I miss you too,’ she said with a sad smile. ‘But that won’t change anything, Wulfric.’
‘It doesn’t have to. I’ll be a warrior in a few years, and no man alive will be able to tell me what I can and can’t do. My choice will be my own, and my choice will always be you.’
She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a shout.
‘Wulfric! Get over here and help put away these horses!’ Eldric’s voice carried halfway across the village, making them both look and laugh.
‘Not a warrior yet,’ Adalhaid said, smiling.
‘No,’ Wulfric said, with a sheepish smile. ‘Not yet. I better go.’
ADALHAID WATCHED HIM GO, a smile still on her face, but it was an uncertain one. There would always be calls on his time that he could not ignore, and demands that he would not be able to decline. She knew she felt the same way as he; seeing Svana fawn over him made her want to vomit. When he had been nothing more than a kind-hearted boy, Svana would not even have spit on him. But now?
She shut the door and returned to her small room, feeling as though she was about to be ripped asunder, her head pulling her one way, her heart the other. She could not forget the fact that her father was a lanceman and Wulfric’s was First Warrior. Everyone in the village would oppose their being together, and she wondered how they could ever hope to overcome that obstacle. She wondered how her own life would be, forever dictated by Wulfric’s duties.
No sooner had she sat down than there was another knock on the door. She rushed back and opened it, expecting to see Wulfric standing there, but it was not he. It was Aethelman. She was in equal parts disappointed and relieved.
‘Good evening, Aethelman. I’ll get my father,’ she said.
‘It’s you I’ve come to speak with. At first, at least. Might I come in?’
‘Of course,’ Adalhaid said.
‘I want to talk to you about this out of earshot of the others,’ Aethelman said. ‘In recent weeks I’ve had to accept that you’ve exceeded my ability to teach you.’
Adalhaid raised her eyebrows, not certain what he was getting at.
‘You’re a bright girl. The brightest I’ve encountered, and I feel it would be a shame for your education to stop because of my shortcomings as a teacher.’
She started to shake her head, but he raised a hand to stop her. ‘Healing and ministration are my duties, and I think myself skilled at both. I was never intended to be a teacher. The question I have for you this evening is do you wish to continue with your education?’
Adalhaid took a moment to think, but she knew the answer. She loved learning, and had no desire to stop. ‘Yes. I’d like to very much.’
‘Good,’ Aethelman said. ‘Perhaps it’s time you bring your parents in.’
Adalhaid fetched her mother and father, all the while feeling her excitement grow. The gods must have been watching her, to have Aethelman bring this to her at the time of her greatest uncertainty. Her parents were nervous to have Aethelman in their home, and Adalhaid could see why he had wanted to speak to her alone first.
They both started fussing as they did their best to ensure they satisfied every requirement of hospitality. After Aethelman put them at ease, he got to his point. Adalhaid found herself growing increasingly nervous at what he might suggest.
‘Ordinarily, on encountering a young person of such intelligence,’ Aethelman said, ‘I would suggest sending them to the Hermitage to train as a priest.’
Adalhaid could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of it.
Aethelman saw her reaction and smiled. ‘However, the life of a priest is one of solitude, and knowing Adalhaid as I do, I know she would curse my name every day of her life if we were to send her there. However, there are few other options for a girl in the Northlands. In the south, on the other hand…’ He let his words hang on the air for a moment before continuing. ‘I have been in contact with some friends in the south, in Elzburg, to explore the options.’
‘I have a brother in Elzburg,’ Adalhaid’s father said. ‘He’s a captain of the guard there.’
‘So I heard,’ Aethelman said. ‘There are a number of schools there, one in particular that I believe would be perfect for Adalhaid. If she does well there, other opportunities will present themselves. Higher study in a university for example. She could be a physician or a teacher, or, well, anything she wants really. She has ability to spare and will thrive in whatever she chooses.’
Adalhaid had heard of universities, great centres of learning in the cities of the south, but it had never once occurred to her that she might go to one. The thought of going thrilled and terrified her.
‘What will it cost?’ Adalhaid’s father said.
‘If your brother would be willing to take her in, virtually nothing. She is more than capable of earning a scholarship, and I can see to making that happen.’
‘How long would I be gone?’ Adalhaid said.
‘The term runs from the start of autumn to the end of spring. You would be able to come home for the summers.’
She nodded, her thoughts swirling around the new possibilities. Part of her wanted to go desperately. Part of her felt ill at the thought of being away from Wulfric. That was a foolish notion however, one that was destined to cause her nothing but pain and heartbreak no matter how desperately she wanted to ignore the fact. She knew his words and feelings were sincere, his intentions good, but the reality of life rarely followed on the heels of good intentions. His life would dominate hers until there would be no room left in it for her own dreams. What if they were prevented from marrying? Where would she be then? Destined to be a ragged old spinster dabbling in herbs and salves that didn’t work, like Behrta, living in a shack full of cats on the edge of the village? She had to have her own life. Her own future. The thought made her head pound with terror. She felt as though her decision would rip her asunder.
‘I want to go,’ she said. ‘When?’
‘There are still a dozen or so weeks of this term left,’ Aethelman said. ‘I see no reason for you to wait.’
THE MAISTERSPAEKER PAUSED. The candles at the inn had burned down to littl
e nubs surrounded by waxy pools. The innkeeper had been so focussed on the story that he had not bothered to change them, although it gave the Maisterspaeker a good indication of how long he had been speaking. His voice was so well accustomed to use that it barely showed any sign of strain or fatigue. He cast a wistful glance at the door, disappointed that Wulfric had still not arrived. It seemed unlikely that he would that night.
The Maisterspaeker looked at the crowd, searching out any sign of weariness or boredom, but there was none.
‘Perhaps I shall pause there…’ the Maisterspaeker said.
There was a collective groan.
‘…to allow the innkeeper and his staff to clear up a little. I shall start again in ten minutes.’
The groan ended, and people rushed for the door. The Maisterspaeker doubted more than half of them would find a spot at the privy before he started again, with only the quickest and most ruthless managing to relieve their bladders. They jostled to get out, and as amusing as the Maisterspaeker found it, he hoped it wouldn’t lead to injury. He had been the inciting presence for more than one riot over the years, and the novelty had long since worn off.
He took a moment to gather his thoughts, and ready the next part of his story.
PART II
20
The village—Veldorf was its name—was a small place. The Maisterspaeker had noted on arrival that it could not be home to more than a hundred people or so. There appeared to be at least that many in the taproom when he made to continue with the story. It seemed not everyone had gone to relieve themselves; many had gone to gather up every person they knew. It was flattering, but he also felt slightly guilty, wondering if they had been dragged from a warm bed to hear his tale. He hoped it was worth the inconvenience.
Once again, Conradin was at the front of the group, an enthusiastic smile on his face. The innkeeper placed a fresh mug of ale in front of the Maisterspaeker. A filled tavern, a crackling fire, and a cold mug of ale. What more could a man of his years want for? A good comrade and a hard fight, perhaps, but both of those would be coming soon enough. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a long draught. His throat wet, he cleared it.
The Wolf of the North: Wolf of the North Book 1 Page 13
