The Wolf of the North: Wolf of the North Book 1

by Duncan M. Hamilton

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About you beating three hells out of Ruripathian soldiers, and how you’re going to fix the damage you’ve done to the village’s safety,’ Donato said.

  ‘It can wait until I get back.’

  Donato walked over to him quickly, so quickly Wulfric thought he might actually hit him. He stuck out his chin and glared at Donato, but he stopped short and spoke in an aggravated whisper.

  ‘What if they decide they don’t want to fight for us any more?’

  ‘Rasbruck’s beaten. They won’t bother us again,’ Wulfric said. ‘Maybe the soldiers should go home, if they’re afraid of it happening again.’

  ‘You just don’t get it, do you? Without the Ruripathians, every other village in the Northlands is stronger than us. Have you forgotten how quick they were to raid our herds when they saw the chance? Remember how that worked out?’

  Wulfric wanted to say something smart, and offensive if possible, but he realised that Donato was right. He, Stenn and Farlof might be able to handle several men each, but there were threats in the Northlands that would be too much for them. Wulfric hadn’t given a thought to how his actions could put the entire village at risk. He couldn’t decide what angered him more, the fact that he had been so stupid or that Donato was right.

  ‘What do I need to do?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that?’ Donato said.

  Wulfric felt a flash of anger, but swallowed it. ‘I said, what do I need to do?’

  ‘The new captain of the Ruripathian garrison loves to hunt. He’s a special type of nobleman from down south, ones that have earned their title through martial prowess. They’re called ‘bannerets’, so you should get along well with him if you give him a chance. Take him out on this hunt with you. I want you best friends with him by the time you get back. I know what you think of me, and everyone knows what you think of the Ruripathians, but we still need them and will until we can put at least forty warriors out on the field.’

  It would be ten years at least before that happened. Wulfric groaned inwardly, but didn’t let Donato see his displeasure. ‘It’s a marriage feast hunt. I’m supposed to do it only with my chosen cupbearers.’

  ‘This time, I’m sure the gods will turn a blind eye. The greater good of the village dictates it. I’ve already checked with Aethelman. He says there won’t be a problem, that there’s nothing in the writings that requires it to only be your cupbearers.’

  Wulfric thought for a moment, and wondered if he should check with Aethelman himself. It didn’t seem like a big issue though, and as Donato had said the reasons were good. He hated it when the bastard was right. ‘Fine. I’ll take him.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Donato said, a broad smile forming on his narrow face. ‘Try and see to it that he bags something impressive. It will help grease the wheels.’

  Wulfric scowled at him. ‘Tell the captain to be ready to go at dawn.’

  THE RURIPATHIAN CAPTAIN was waiting outside Wulfric’s house well before dawn the next morning, his horse and hunting gear all ready to go. Wulfric had expected someone similar to the previous captain. This man was different though. Tall, broad, and blond, he had a fur cloak thrown over clothes that looked appropriate for hunting.

  ‘You new here?’ Wulfric said.

  ‘Arrived three days ago. Banneret-Captain Endres at your service.’ He clicked his heels together and gave a curt nod of his head.

  Wulfric gave him a suspicious look and walked forward to take a look at his horse and equipment. He might have agreed to take the captain with him, but he wasn’t going to nursemaid a man who would wet his britches at the first sniff of a belek.

  ‘You’ll find everything is in order,’ Endres said.

  Wulfric ignored him and continued to check, looking for anything he could find fault with. He was disappointed.

  ‘It looks all right,’ Wulfric said. Maybe there was something to this military training Donato had talked about. He squinted in the pre-dawn half light, and took a closer look at Banneret-Captain Endres.

  ‘That cloak,’ Wulfric said. ‘Is that—’

  ‘Belek. Yes. I see you have one too.’

  ‘You hunt belek in the south?’

  ‘Yes. But only for sport. I understand that they’re hunted by necessity here.’

  ‘Yes, from time to time they can come close to the village. Not often, though.’

  ‘They don’t tend to come anywhere near towns or cities in the south. You have to go up into the forests and mountains to find them.’

  ‘Can’t say I’d ever go looking for one,’ Wulfric said.

  Captain Endres laughed.

  Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a chore after all. Their gear checked, they departed.

  They rode hard for three hours in the direction that the herd was reported as being in. It took another hour to find tracks that belonged to deer, but there were not many. Certainly not so many as had been reported. That wasn’t unusual. People exaggerated and he had been confident that the boy had talked up the size and quality of a herd he had only been told about. There was only so much meat that they could carry anyway. Three or four would be more than enough.

  The trail, modest though it was, led them into the forest south of the village. There was a decent-sized river with steep sides not far ahead, and Wulfric was hopeful that they would be able to trap the herd against it. It would be a job for the next day though, it was getting dark and carrying on was to risk a foolish injury.

  IT WAS STILL DARK when Wulfric woke. He looked at the fire for his first point of reference. It glowed benignly, so he had been asleep for a couple of hours, not much more. Something must have woken him. He concentrated on his ears, listening for anything out of the ordinary, anything that might have caused him to wake. There was nothing. Usually he slept well, even when out in the forest.

  His heart was beating quickly. At first he thought it was simply a bad dream. Aethelman had told him it wasn’t unusual for men to become abnormally tense in the days leading up to their wedding. He thought the idea ridiculous at first, but as the day grew closer, he had to admit Aethelman was right. He had the additional worry now of returning without any meat. That would certainly make for a poor start to the marriage. So far they hadn’t even seen a deer.

  He continued to listen, lying there with only the faint crackling of the low fire breaking the silence. He knew it was more than marriage nerves, though. Even though he couldn’t see any danger, his hands were shaking uncontrollably. Something was not as it should be. It was too quiet. Even with a fire to ward off wild animals, there were many small creatures that would not be daunted, filling the forest with sound. There was no sound beyond their little circle of firelight. He recalled the first time he had gone hunting, of how his father had reacted to the same circumstances. A silent forest means danger. As quietly as he could, he reached out from under his cloak and drew his sabre from its scabbard. He kept his breathing as shallow as possible as he listened.

  A twig snapped and a footfall crunched on the soil. He jumped up into a crouch and backed away from the fire, moving out of its light and into the cover of the undergrowth. He threw a pebble at Endres, but it bounced off his blanket without him stirring.

  Wulfric crouched on the balls of his feet, scanning the darkness for anything. His eyes were gritty and he was still fighting off the confusion of interrupted sleep. A crossbow bolt whistled out of the darkness and struck the tree beside him with a loud thud. He dived into a bush head first, and then peered out. There was no sign of the assailants. He wondered if he should call out to Endres, who still appeared to be asleep. That would give away his position though, and as amiable as the man was, Wulfric had no desire to be on the receiving end of a crossbow bolt for his benefit. If he was as skilled a warrior as Donato had made him out to be, he would be well able to look after himself.

  Two crossbow bolts tore through the bush Wulfric was hiding in, each passing close enough for him to feel them go by. Two bolts bei
ng fired so close to one another meant there was more than one attacker, but he still had only a vague idea of where they were. He couldn’t fight men he couldn’t see. Endres hadn’t moved from his bedroll, which Wulfric took as meaning he was already dead. A shame, but better his bad luck than Wulfric’s.

  There was no use in tarrying there. They had all the advantages. He turned and ran, hoping that he could lose his attackers in the dark confusion of the forest. He made a terrible racket as he went, but there was nothing for it; he could barely see where he was going. As he began to think he had gotten away he felt a hard punch in the back. It knocked him forward. He dropped his sword and stumbled a couple of paces, then fell to the ground. He reached behind him and felt the thick stubby shaft of a bolt sticking from his back. He could hear men coming after him, crashing through the forest, shouting to one another. He scrambled to his feet and continued to run.

  He felt two more punches in his back. They felt numb rather than painful after the shock of the initial impact faded. He managed to keep to his feet, and forced himself forward as fast as he could, but it was getting difficult to breathe. He swiped branches out of his way as his run became more of a stumble. Why were these men after him? Surely reavers would have kept their distance? How was he going to make it back home in time for the wedding?

  The noise behind him was getting closer. A bolt thudded into a tree beside him, and Wulfric’s pace dropped to a slow walk. He felt incredibly tired. His chest felt tight. It was so difficult to breathe. The world seemed distant as he continued to stumble through the darkness.

  He didn’t even notice the precipice of the steep riverbank. He was falling before he knew what was happening. He didn’t realise he was so close to the river. It was the last thought that went through his head before he plunged into the icy-cold water.

  47

  ‘It’s done then?’ Donato said.

  Banneret-Captain Endres nodded. He felt as if he was in an interview, with both the Northlander mayor and Ambassador Urschel sitting opposite him. The Ambassador had a smile firmly fixed to his face.

  ‘I assume you brought back… proof?’ Donato said.

  ‘I was told you didn’t want evidence of anything but the lie,’ Endres said. ‘We dumped the body in the river.’ The trail had led to the river’s edge. There was nowhere for him to go but down, and there was no way he survived the water with a couple of arrows in his back.

  ‘But he’s definitely dead?’ Donato said. ‘You can assure me of that.’

  Endres nodded again. He wasn’t nearly as confident as he was making out, but if the crossbow bolts hadn’t killed Wulfric, the fall and the freezing water would have. He didn’t like calling a job done without seeing the body going cold, but he was sure. Still, he wanted his money, so he had killed a pig and contrived the campsite to look like a lot more blood had been shed there than actually was. They left Wulfric’s weapons lying around and a few scraps of cloth, including a piece of belek fur from his own cloak. He was loathe to tear it off, but the damage was small and unnoticeable, while the payment he was due to get was neither.

  ‘They’ll probably want to send out a search party for the body,’ Donato said. ‘I assume they’ll find a campsite that looks like someone died there?’

  ‘Someone did,’ Endres said. ‘Wild animals don’t tend to leave meat lying around long at this time of year. Plenty of wolves, bears. Maybe even a belek. No one will be surprised to find nothing but some blood on the ground. His swords are still lying there. No self-respecting warrior would leave them behind if he was able to carry them.’

  ‘His friends will probably want to speak with you,’ Donato said. ‘What do you plan on saying?’

  ‘They’re welcome, but they’ll have to make it fast. I plan on returning to the city with Ambassador Urschel. I’ll tell them we were attacked by a belek. I understand he had a knack for attracting them. Everyone’s luck runs out sooner or later. Being a cowardly southerner, I ran.’

  Donato pursed his lips in approval. ‘That should work. They’d expect him to have stood his ground and fought. Bloody fool.’

  ‘A brave man,’ Endres said. ‘You’d have to have seen a belek to understand. It’s a pity he died the way he did. Not a good death.’

  ‘You didn’t seem to have any problem facilitating it,’ Donato said.

  ‘We all have to eat,’ Endres said. ‘Speaking of which. My money?’

  Donato took a leather satchel and pushed it across the table. Endres opened it and peered inside. It was heavy, and stacked high with small, rough ingots of silver. He smiled.

  ‘All things considered, I think it would be best if you were to forget about ever visiting Leondorf again.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to restrain the urge,’ Endres said. ‘A pleasure doing business with you.’

  ‘THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT,’ Donato said. ‘Banneret-Captain Endres said the attack came without any warning. It was quick and brutal, and he barely escaped with his life.’

  ‘He did escape with it though,’ Adalhaid said. ‘Why couldn’t Wulfric have? Did he actually see Wulfric killed?’

  Donato shifted in his seat. ‘No, but I sent Stenn and Farlof back to see if they could find his bod— him. I had hoped that perhaps he was just injured, or hiding.’

  ‘But he wasn’t.’

  Donato shook his head. ‘His weapons, some scraps of bloody clothing, a piece of his cloak…’ Whatever about the rest, the scrap of belek cloak was weighty evidence. ‘I don’t think there can be any doubt. I’m sorry. He’s a huge loss to the village.’

  Adalhaid nodded, but kept her composure. ‘What do you think happened?’

  ‘Endres said it all happened so quickly it was something of a blur. He’s certain it was a belek in the middle of the night. Wulfric stayed to face it. Endres ran. Not the most courageous thing to do, but…’ Donato could read the look on Adalhaid’s face. It was an even mix of despair and disbelief.

  ‘His body. They found nothing?’ she said. Her voice was faltering, each word uttered while she tried to restrain tears.

  ‘I’d hoped to avoid this. There’s no easy way to put this, and I know it will be difficult for you to hear, but I feel you deserve the truth. Belek don’t tend to leave much of their prey.’ He tried to put it as gently as possible. He wanted her to feel he was on her side, that his only concern was for her. ‘I’ve spoken with Aethelman. He assures me this won’t interfere with Wulfric’s ascension to Jorundyr’s Host in any way. He has already done more than enough for us to be confident that he will be welcomed by his fallen brothers. Facing down a belek is a very courageous thing to do. You should be very proud of him.’

  Adalhaid began to sob gently. It appeared the lie had been swallowed. He wondered how long he should wait before broaching the next issue. He would rather have left it for a few weeks—a few days at least—to allow the grief to fade a little, and to gradually plant the thought of returning south in her head in the hope that it took root and felt like her own idea. Sadly, Ambassador Urschel wouldn’t agree to that. He had said the end of the week, so the end of the week it would be. The sooner the business was dealt with, the sooner Donato could start turning his thoughts to where he would build his castle.

  ‘I can send word to your uncle, if you’d like. At times like these it’s best to be with family.’

  She nodded distantly.

  Donato smiled. All he had to do was get her on the carriage back to Elzburg. With that done, he had fulfilled his part of the bargain, and she became someone else’s problem. Perhaps it would be easier than he hoped.

  WULFRIC WOKE with a gasp and a hacking cough that spluttered water over his face. He was on a pebbly bank at the side of a river, soaked through, freezing cold and numb. He only wore a few scraps of clothing. He sat up and roared in pain. His back felt as though it had fused solid. With each effort at moving, he could feel his skin and muscle tug at the projectiles in his back.

  As luck would have it, his belek cloak had ca
ught on a tree not far from where he lay. He struggled to his feet and retrieved it, the objects in his back making themselves known with every movement. The cloak was soaking, but would dry quickly, and keep him warm once it did. If the wounds didn’t kill him, the cold would. As he lay there, he realised that the cloak had already saved him. It had absorbed most of the impacts, and none had penetrated far enough to cause fatal damage.

  He pulled the cloak over him and gently reached around to his back to probe the wounds. They were crossbow bolts; thick and stubby. The bolts wobbled gently and painfully when he touched them. Not deep enough to be stuck fast. He wondered what damage pulling them out would do. A hunter’s arrow would be barbed, and make an ungodly mess if he tried pulling on them. The southerners were the only ones to use crossbows, which meant it was probably reavers. Still not quite a match for a belek cloak, it seemed. He wasn’t going to get home with them still sticking in his back, and if he was going to die, it wouldn’t be from being too timid to try and survive.

  Getting a firm grip required him to stretch and contort to the point of agony. The first bolt popped free with a sickening sound that reminded him of jointing a killed animal. The second came out with little effort, raising his hopes for the third. It felt more firmly embedded, and it was nigh on impossible to get a firm grip on it. He jerked suddenly, getting his hand to the bolt and pulling it free in the same movement. Pain seared through him like a hot lance and he roared again—not the cleverest thing to do if he was still being pursued. It was time to get moving.

  He tossed the bolts into the water and watched two of them bob tip down as they were washed downstream. The third floated on the surface, tossed about by the churning water. It meant that the tip of it was probably still inside him. There were plenty of things more likely to kill him than that, but he would have to get Aethelman to take it out when he got home. He checked the wounds on his back again. His flesh was still cold to the touch but there was only a small amount of bleeding, nothing to cause him concern.