“You heard me.” Sandivar’s cloak swirled as he paced. “Wolf, say you? Aye, not wolf but wolfess, a lady of the court who lured man after man to destruction, and simultaneously studied in what she thought was full secrecy the arts of necromancy, sorcery, her object to capture the heart of the great Sigrieth himself and make him captive. Kierena was her name, and lovely was she in a dark, dangerous way, if ever woman had black loveliness. Albrecht, though married, loved her and was her helpless slave, though little cared she for him, Sigrieth being her chief aim. But she was caught in sorcery, caught cold, red-handed, and banished from the land—as your father had proclaimed that all sorcerers must surely be,” he added in a curious voice. “But now she has come back, taken the form of the great black wolf, which she has been known to assume before (it was an art that enchanted Wolfsheim); and it is she we have to deal with in the Frorwald. Nor think you that she is weakling female: her sorcery has she perfected, obviously, and her heart is made of stone. So, thus—and thousands of her liege men, from all account; I mean the wolves. Great are you and Rage and Vengeance, fierce in battle Death and Destruction; Waddle, too, is terrible and I, if I may say so, no small foe. But still, the task is an army’s task—and we have no army.” He poured himself a glass of wine and drank it. “A quarter of the way might we hack our progress twixt here and Markau, maybe even a half. But at last we would be overwhelmed, dragged down and made a meal of, ere ever we reached our goal.”
“But the villagers will not fight. So if we have no army, we must do without one.”
Sandivar finished the wine. “We shall have one,” he said at last.
“And get it where?”
The old man laughed. “Fire, you must have heard, must be fought with fire.”
“Aye. But the time is poor for cryptic riddles.”
Sandivar poured more wine. “Come,” he said. “We have a rendezvous to keep.”
“Oh? With whom? And where?”
“The whom shall you learn ere long. The place—” Sandivar grinned, “a turnip patch.” He tapped Helmut on the arm. “Come—and bring only Waddle and your sword.”
In the darkness, they strode along the main street of the sleeping town, with its tightly locked courtyards and no alarm from any dogs—all now long since killed by wolves and boars and bears. When they had reached the street’s end and nothing lay before them but open country, Sandivar turned and struck off across plowed ground. “Not turnips after all,” said he, “but beans, or what’s left of them. But then, I never was a farming man.”
Helmut, puzzled, kept his hand on his sword hilt as they walked farther into the night-shrouded field. Then, quite abruptly, Sandivar halted. He began to make, deep in his chest, a strange, piglike, grunting sound.
Things moved in the darkness. As Helmut drew the sword, a word from Sandivar caused him to sheathe it. Then Sandivar turned and seemed to speak to Waddle. Waddle instantly rose on his hind legs and began to make loud, growling, moaning sounds that carried far into the night.
Helmut felt the hair on the back of his neck stiffen. “By the Gods,” he whispered, “what witchcraft now?”
“Very little, except certain tribal chieftains must we talk to. Waddle and I now make arrangements for a meeting. Ah, careful, there!”
For, startled, Helmut had jumped as something materialized soundlessly from the darkness in front of Sandivar. It was, he saw, a wild boar, great of size, heavy in the front and lean in the rear, with bristles like iron and huge, curling tusks of ivory. Such boars were hunting game and man-killers, and only Sandivar’s admonition kept Rage still sheathed.
Sandivar made a sound of satisfaction. The boar grunted warily and champed its teeth dangerously, but Sandivar laughed. Then, more soberly, once more he began that stertorous succession of piglike grunts that seemed to come from his very entrails.
The boar backed away, almost as if in surprise. Then it grunted, and Sandivar grunted back; as something else even larger and more frightening loomed up close by, a darker blackness than the night, the boar wheeled and dashed off, faster than a horse could gallop. Helmut, confused by all this, whirled to confront the newcomer.
It was a bear, not so large as Waddle, but of no mean size. Suddenly it dropped on all fours and growled. Waddle growled back, and so did Sandivar. The bear rose up again, and so did Waddle. They touched noses; then Sandivar made a growling sound, and both dropped down. Abruptly, the bear whirled and scuttled off just as the boar had done.
“Now,” said Sandivar, “we must wait.”
“By the Gods,” said Helmut, “it would pleasure me to know what goes on here.”
“Messengers have I called up and sent,” said Sandivar. “You heard the villagers speak of a plague of boars and bears, driven by the wolves from out the Frorwald. Surely, thought I, we must at this time of night find both aforaging in such a field; and I was right. Now they go to find the chieftains and the elders of their tribes; and if you be not too sleepy, I think we shall hold our conference soon here in the bean field, in the dark of the moon, and, should luck be with us, come by an army to see us safely across the Frorwald and perhaps beyond.”
Helmut shook his head. “Never is your bag empty of its tricks, is it?”
“Once we have our forces, I shall leave the generalship to you.”
They waited. Helmut said, “Tell me. Why do you not use sorcery to destroy directly Albrecht, his half-wolves, the wolves, and the Black Wolf? Have you not so much power?”
“I have the power,” said Sandivar. “But I am not allowed to use it—nor would I if I could. To make you King of Boorn and Emperor of the Gray Lands by the snap of my ringers—what sort of king should you then be? But if you take the throne by your own risks and exertions, then you have earned your kingship. Moreover, I have said that the Black Wolf, Kierena, is also a sorceress. She would use sorcery against me; and since the Worldfire it is forbidden that two magicians duel against each other for supremacy. Always the magnitude of spells goes up until they hurl such power at each other as destroys all innocents around them. So only indirectly must I use my art; there are no shortcuts to such a throne as Boorn—one never gains it without risk of life.”
“That risk I gladly,” said Helmut. “Only—hark! By the Gods who rule us—!”
For now came moving across the fields from two directions such columns as he never had seen before. The one from the west was a file of wild boars, led by a pig of such size and length of tusk and fierceness of mien that he rivaled the monsters Helmut had fought in that gray underworld. Nor were the swine behind him much lesser specimens of their breed; not a one of them but whose head would have graced a castle wall—had the huntsman lived to take it.
And coming from the east shambled a line of bears, the one in forefront huge enough to dwarf even the enormous Waddle. A half dozen more of Waddle’s size or larger came silently behind this royal animal; and as he saw it, Waddle gave a peculiar moan and did what must have been obeisance.
All this with some clarity Helmut now could see, his eyes accustomed to the dark and the moon rising above the distant Frorwald hills. But what happened next Sandivar had to interpret, for the council of grunts and growls and other sounds was beyond his comprehension.
Warily, the bears and boars looked at one another and at Sandivar. Then the sorcerer made some gestures and some sounds, most of them strange and spine-chilling. Abruptly, the atmosphere thawed; the animals moved in close to ring themselves around the men. The boars shifted restlessly on sharp hooves; the bears sat down flat on their bottoms, heavily.
The King Boar was the first to speak. “Why has the Man asked council with us? A truce we grant because he knows the trucial words by which we are in tradition bound—and in our knowledge is the first Man ever these words to know. For all that, we have livings to get, and our time is valuable.”
“So say we,” grunted the King Bear. “Speak, Man.”
“Aye,” said Sandivar. “You are from the Frorwald, are you not?”
A pause. Then the Boar grumbled: “Indeed. But so thick have grown the wolves in there that, for politic reasons, our tribe has left. Think not,” he added hastily, “that this was through fear. But they were ten to our one, and no longer could we protect our young, which they devoured in tragedy after tragedy. Someday, though, we assure you, we shall return, and when we do, woe unto the wolves there as we retake our own.”
“Perhaps now is the time,” said Sandivar.
The King Bear growled: “A moment. Our own case is the same. Though any bear is the equal of a dozen wolves, none can outfight fifty or a hundred. Thus our cubs were sacrificed, and many of our shes, and so we relinquished our hold on our territory and came here to live off beans and turnips. But we, too, yearn for our old stronghold. Still, we have not strength enough as yet to retake it.”
“Not alone,” Sandivar told him. “But allied with the boars—?”
The two great animals, bear and boar, looked surlily at one another and back at Sandivar with equal distrust. “Full many a piglet of ours has his kind devoured,” grunted the King Boar.
“Aye, and we have lost our share of young to you in revenge,” snarled the Bear. “Tusked open when caught alone and helpless—” He turned to Sandivar. “Besides, the mast—acorns, beech, and other autumn food; we have long fought one another for this.”
“And shall, I reckon, far into the future,” said the old man. “If you ever return to the Frorwald.” He raised a hand. “Now, hear me. Enemies of each other may you be, and also of me, the human. But all of us are enemies of the wolves; and the wolves are enemies of us all. If we forget ill-feeling for now, join together, make common cause against the wolves, and so destroy them, then at least you have your Frorwald back and can resume your old enmity at your leisure. Otherwise, disunited, live out your lives down here on turnips and potatoes, yield the Frorwald forever to the wolves to spoil and violate, and never let your children know the freedom of that ancient forest…”
There was a long silence. Helmut waited patiently and in fascination. Then the grunting resumed, as the Boar conferred with those others who had accompanied it. The Bear sat silently for a moment, its head cocked. Then Waddle growled something deferentially at it; and it arose and turned to huddle together with its followers.
For a good half hour then, there in the bean field, as the moon climbed higher, the negotiations went on. The enmity between bear and boar was as old as the Frorwald itself, and not easily overcome; nor was their mutual distrust of humankind less deeply rooted. But at last the King Boar spoke:
“For our part, we yearn for our homeland. This consideration overpowers all others, and our fighting tuskers are prepared to shed their blood to reclaim it, if—” He looked at Helmut. “If, as you say, this human will be King of Boorn and shall undertake to guarantee us the fruits of our sacrifices.”
“Such guarantee you have herewith,” said Sandivar. “You shall hold the Frorwald as you did in King Sigrieth’s day. And you as well,” he went on, turning to the Bear. “Some hunting there will be, as in the past, just as some of you will turn outlaw and raid the fields and flocks of men as in the past. But it will never be warfare and extermination between the men of Boorn and the boars and bears of Boorn.”
The King Bear rumbled: “The hunting amounts to nothing; we take our toll of men as men take their toll of us—and the boars do likewise. In such contests are all races kept strong, clean, and fit, the weaklings quickly plucked from among us. All right: if boars will make an undertaking, than shall we bears. A truce and an alliance until the Frorwald is purged of wolves and we hold our ancient haunts again.”
“So say we,” grunted the King Boar.
And when Sandivar had repeated this to Helmut, he nodded too. “And on behalf of men of Boorn, I give my pledge…”
“Then it is done and sealed,” said Sandivar. “When will your forces be recruited and ready to march?”
“The Frorwald fair begins a day’s march hence,” said the King Bear, “at the crossing of the stream called Weidling, lying in the forest under the mountain Asten, athwart the trail across the hills to Markau. There shall we meet you, my tribes and I, one sun’s rising after this one.”
“Aye, well said,” the Boar grunted. “My people also shall I have in covert there. We have watched the Frorwald. At night it almost empties itself of wolves, as under the leadership of a huge black she they swarm to the siege of Castle Markau. Night would be best for crossing, but you men are hampered in the darkness, nor are our eyes the best then. But we will assemble, meet at daybreak, and cross the hills together, all of us, one army, bears and boars alike.”
“Then, much thanks. And tell them there is no time to lose,” said Helmut, when Sandivar had translated this. “We’ll meet at the Weidling ford, and, ere nightfall the kites shall feast well on wolf meat, that I promise.”
CHAPTER IX
And so, with blood beating high, Helmut, bastard of Sigrieth, rode toward the Frorwald, astride Vengeance, Rage ready to flash at any needful moment, and Death and Destruction loping at his stirrup-irons. Meanwhile, in the court at Marmorburg, Kor, the barbarian chieftain, drained his tankard and dragged the back of his huge hand across his matted beard. “Well,” he growled, belching, “your wine’s all right. But for a man’s drink, I’ll have mead.”
He had removed his horned helmet of iron and hammered silver, and his hair gleamed red and tangled in the candlelight. His face was like something hacked from oak with a dull broad-ax, but there was nothing stupid about the little blue eyes under ridges of bone. His garb was soft-tanned deerskin, but his cloak was of rich, shimmering sable and his broadsword and battle-ax of choicest Northern steel. His body was broad and strong, thick-limbed, and smelled, thought Albrecht of Wolfsheim, as if water had not touched it in a year.
Nevertheless, Albrecht was careful to be respectful as he spoke. “And so we are agreed?”
“Aye,” Kor rumbled, pouring more wine. “My hostages, my wife and son, have been delivered unto you and yours to me; and should either fail to keep faith with other, there will be slow killing. But only give us chance at plunder, Albrecht, and you’ll not find the tribes of Kor faithless.” He belched again.
“Of rape and pillage shall your men have all they desire. Under Sigrieth’s protection, the Lands of Light have grown rich, fat, and indolent. Now they are ripe for plucking—and to produce future tribute, which shall be divided equally between us both.”
“Then all’s in readiness. My tribes are assembled; when you have sent me word, I shall bring them down across the Jaal, join forces with you at Grancsay on this bank, and the two armies, mine and yours, conjoined, shall march together the length of Boorn, cross the Frorwald and the Dolos, and fall upon the Southern Lands with fire and sword. The New Learning, of which you seem so fearful, shall be stamped out; slaves taken; whatever of worth we can lay hands on. Aye—” He drank again. “Indeed, Albrecht, this may be the start of something big. Between the two of us, we could rule the world. Turning next upon the Eastern Tribes, beyond the Casus Mountains, we could reestablish a world in which strength of arm and sharpness of blade receive their rightful honor.”
“Perhaps. We’ll talk about next moves with this accomplished.” Albrecht shelled almonds with strong fingers and crunched them between strong teeth. In another six months, he thought, he would have recruited half-wolf forces strong enough to take the Dark Lands and recover whatever plunder Kor came by now. But for the moment, the main thing was to stamp out the menacing thing they called the New Learning, which gave men reason to dream of freedom. Kor was barbaric and uneducated; his thoughts might be ambitious, but if there were to be one ruler of the world, it would be Albrecht, Emperor of the Gray Lands. And, had he a queen, she would be Kierena, the black, voluptuous sorceress.
But for now, he needed Kor and would use him as the need arose. Half-wolves had he enough to make that more than possible, outnumbering the barbaric tribes by three to one, just as they outnumbere
d the men of Boorn, who’d quit his army in disgust. But those men were still a threat, would be until the rebel Hagen was made example of, and must be coped with. Also, the barbarians; he dared not turn his back on them while raiding in the Lands of Light—thus this alliance. But when all was settled, this first war over and his wealth and power thus established, he’d take the unwitting Kor by the hip at the first opportunity…
Then Eero came into the room, deferentially. He bore a scroll, which, wordlessly, he passed to Albrecht. “You will excuse me,” the King of Boorn murmured to the barbarian, who already drank deeply from his refilled tankard. When he had finished reading, with a smile, he passed the scroll back to Eero. It was good: Kierena prophesied that within three nights Markau would fall. That would eliminate the last possible obstacle to the crossing of the Frorwald by the allied armies and the rape of the Lands of Light.
“We may move more swiftly than we supposed. One recalcitrant lord blocked our way; by three days hence he will be disposed of. On the fourth morning can your army be at Grancsay?”
Kor blinked. “We ride wild cattle you know; they are not as fleet as horses, but their horns are fearful in a battle. But—” He considered for a moment. Then he nodded. “Aye. If you will send a messenger on your fleetest horse, my lieutenants shall assemble the army and move it. Have yours at Grancsay and ours shall be there also. Thence we shall move as you direct, though our wild bulls may slow your horses down.” Again he drained the tankard. “Tell me something, Albrecht—”
“And what would you know?”
“So completely have you reversed King Sigrieth’s policies—Always our enemy, he kept us north of the Jaal ever since the battle of the Moor of Yrawnn. But now you give us passage to and fro through Boorn, make alliance with us, and replace your human soldiers with the—” his lip curled, “half-wolves. In addition, new taxes have you imposed and other harshness caused. Rebel not your subjects against such measures?”
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