by Peter Plasse
They had been loping along for over an hour now, and Jacqueline was amazed that she was not in the least winded. “I’m a Wolf!” she thought. “Cinnamon, can you hear me?” she thought.
“I can, dear,” she answered.
“Is this cool or what? Hey, you’re a Wolf now too. Isn’t it wicked?”
“Yes, I suppose it is. I will say that my bones don’t hurt like they used to. I rather like that.”
“Do you think we should do it?” she asked. “Go to this place named ‘The Gate’, I mean.”
“Of course you should,” interrupted Brutus. “You are, after all, a Human by birth, and you will be with your own kind there. I have no doubt that getting you there gives you the best chance of rejoining your family. There are troops there who can help you to make this happen.”
Roly wanted to interrupt and remind Brutus that everyone at The Gate had been starving for months now, held hostage in their own fortress by the Trolls that had them trapped and flanked to the west, but he held back his thoughts for two reasons. First, Brutus was a very smart Wolf and would not choose this course of action if he did not think it represented Jacqueline’s best chance at surviving. She was clearly both resourceful and resilient, but life in the Agden Forest was no picnic and no one understood this better than the pack leader. Second, Brutus was exactly that, and without a compelling reason, you didn’t challenge orders from the pack leader. So on they ran.
“I feel like I could run forever,” thought Jacqueline. “This is unbelievable.”
They were within a few hours of the southern border of Ravenwild at around sundown. They had run all day, never once stopping to drink, or do their business. Jacqueline smelled the wind, raising her nose up high. “Cinnamon, do you smell that?” she thought.
“I do, dear,” she thought. “Foul. Very foul. What could it be?”
“Troll,” answered Brutus in a normal voice. “From the smell of it, they were here a few hours ago. Hannibal, Dillon, go on up ahead. When you find them, come back straight away.”
Off they ran at about twice the speed at which they had been traveling, but from the smoothness of their gait Jacqueline figured they were capable of a lot more speed than that. The remaining eight of them walked on at a leisurely pace, coming upon a stream that ran straight across the trail they were on. Jacqueline dropped to all fours and drank from it without so much as a thought as to what she was doing. Never had water tasted this good to her.
She looked at Cinnamon, who was staring at something up in the trees.
“Roly,” she thought.
“Yes, Cinnamon?”
She gestured with a flip of her head up towards the top of the tree. “I can catch that. Not enough for a meal for all of us, but certainly enough for a snack. Do I have time?”
Jacqueline’s gaze followed Cinnamon’s. High up in the treetops was another of the large birds similar to the one that they had traded in on their safety.
“I suppose we can wait for you. Go ahead. Don’t fall.”
Cinnamon let out a small snort of disgust and raced up the tree. In a couple of minutes, the giant bird crashed to the ground in front of them. Less than a minute after that, Cinnamon was back standing with them, licking her fur. This time she was entirely uninjured.
“Cinnamon,” thought Jacqueline, “How did you ever do that? That was awesome.”
“Half-Cat, half-Wolf,” Cinnamon thought back, “interesting blend. I could definitely get used to this.”
“Have at it guys,” said Cinnamon. “Lunch is on me.”
The snack took only a minute as they divided up the large bird. Jacqueline was impressed at how fair they were in the way they divided it up into equal portions. These Wolves were the epitome of a team, always looking out for each other.
“Jacqueline, Cinnamon,” said Roly. “Eat.” He passed each a choice piece of breast, being careful to not drop them in the dirt. “We won’t have time to make a fire, and it wouldn’t be safe to make one anyway with Trolls about. Sorry.”
Jacqueline sniffed the piece of meat. To her surprise it didn’t smell raw at all. In fact, it smelled great. She had at it with pleasure. “Cinnamon,” she thought.
“Yes dear.”
“I never would have thought that possible; eating raw meat and having it taste good.”
“It is good, isn’t it?” thought Cinnamon. “I’m glad it strikes your fancy.”
“Time for a conference,” said Brutus. “All of us,” he nodded at the five Wolves.
“Know, and you need to know as well,” he nodded to Jacqueline and Cinnamon, “that it is very strange that there are Trolls this far south of the border. They have never ventured this far in. Not even when they came into our forest to flank the troops at The Gate.”
“Excuse me,” said Jacqueline. “First of all, I have no idea what ‘flanked them’ means. And secondly, could you please explain what ‘The Gate’ actually is?”
“Of course, child. It is said that in times past, the Trolls, Gnomes, and Ravenwilders all got along well enough. They had some issues, mostly over border disputes in the north, but for the most part they lived in peace, even trading with each other.
“The Gate was an actual gate that was used to halt the advancing wagons that were transporting goods, so they could monitor the items passing from one land to the other. Doing inventory counts and things like that. But at some point, things deteriorated, and because this stretch of land now contained a road, one of the first well-developed roads ever constructed, leading directly into Ravenwild from Slova to the east, they built a huge fort there to protect it from invasion. The road is narrow there, with the fort to the north and the Agden River to the south, and more importantly, a little to the west it narrows more, to a footpath, able to accommodate no more than one wagon at a time. Hence it is easily defended by whoever sits on either side of the narrows. So, last summer, the Trolls sent a massive force south and into the forest, into our forest, to put enough troops to the west in order to trap the Humans inside the fort and starve them out. We, of course, killed most of them, but enough made it through so that the mission was judged to be a success … ”
“Yeah, we ate good then,” Roly interjected, rubbing his tummy. “Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm.” The other four Wolves nodded in agreement. Brutus gave him a harsh look, and Roly said, “Sorry.”
“At any rate, for months now nobody has gotten in, and nobody has gotten out. 'Flanked' means they have them blocked in.”
“But why haven’t the troops at the fort attacked them from within the fort?” asked Cinnamon.
“Good question, Cinnamon. Before the arrival of the flanking force, most of the troops were withdrawn from The Gate and sent north, undoubtedly because they needed them to defend their homeland. Logic would dictate that there are not enough left to attack.”
“So they’re all starving?” asked Jacqueline.
“That, I cannot say. It would depend on the amount of food they had inside when the troops moved out, and the amount of those remaining inside the fort.”
“I get it,” said Jacqueline. “Why can’t they all just get along? They were getting along.”
“Another good question,” said Brutus. “Nobody knows, and of course it happened a long time ago. But I would bet you a good meal that the Troll leader at the time got it into his head that Trolls are in some way the ‘superior race’. This notion, this belief that one race is somehow superior to the others, has been a plague on Inam'Ra for all time.”
“It’s the same where we come from,” said Jacqueline. “Animals are treated like they are inferior. I hate it.”
Hannibal and Dillon raced in at full gallop, skidding to a stop. Brutus waited for them to catch their breath, then asked, “What do you know?”
Dillon spoke in between pants, “The Trolls … have reinforced their numbers … to the west … Snuck right by us, they did. Looks like they have about twice as many as before. They have also amassed a large strike force to the east. I would guess
that they are planning an all out assault on the fortress itself.”
“Food!” said Roly.
Brutus again shot him a hard look. Again Roly lowered his head and thought, “Sorry.”
“Do you think they have a chance?” asked Brutus.
“Hard to say,” answered Hannibal. “They have never managed it before, but we know that the numbers at The Gate are depleted, and if they are all too weak to fight … ” He trailed off, the unstated conclusion obvious to all.
“We can’t let that happen!” cried Jacqueline. “We can’t let them murder all those people! We have to do something.”
“What can we possibly do?” asked Brutus. “We are ten. They are hundreds.”
“Thousands,” said Dillon.
There was a prolonged silence.
“How many more of us are there?” asked Cinnamon in a quiet voice.
“Wait a minute, Brutus,” said Stefen. “This is not our fight. This is between Ravenwild and Slova. I say we sit by, let them slaughter each other, and feast on the remains until our bellies burst.”
Jacqueline marched right up to him and put her face in his. “That,” she said, “is evil. How could you think such a thought? You should be ashamed of yourself. Ashamed!”
Stefen emitted a low growl. Jacqueline, fearless, did the same.
“Both of you,” barked Brutus. “That is enough. And you are wrong, Stefen. This is our fight. It became our fight when we took these two in as one of us. Did you think that was a charade? A pretense? Jacqueline is right. You should be ashamed of yourself. To answer your question, Cinnamon, there are seven thousand, one hundred and fifty-eight of us at last count, depending on whether or not any early pups have been born. This is the time of year when our mates are preparing to give birth, which they do in the southernmost part of our land. Our land,” he repeated with emphasis, looking first at Stefen, then Cinnamon, then Jacqueline. “So they are unavailable to us for the obvious reasons. But the rest, the males, are roaming to hunt.
“This said, here’s what we’re going to do. Hannibal, Dillon, have some bird. Compliments of the most successful hunter in the pack today.” He nodded at Cinnamon. The two Wolves ate their snacks in a couple of bites, each remembering to thank her.
“All right,” said Brutus. “Michael, Harvey, Roly, Franklin, Hannibal and Dillon, you will leave now. Stefen will remain here with me. There are some things that we need to straighten out.”
He glanced sharply at Stefen, who glared back at him.
“Round up the rest. All that you can muster. Bring them to Clearwater. We will meet you there.”
“Brutus, how are we to feed our mates if we take on this fight?” It was Stefen. All present could feel the anger radiating from him like heat from a fire.
“That sounds pretty close to a challenge to me. Is that what you want? Are you challenging me?” A low rumble followed his words and a menacing growl came from his throat as he stood with deadly looking fangs bared.
Stefen lowered his head.
“All right then. No harm done,” said Brutus. “Be smart, Stefen. Make no mistake about it, there is going to be a fight. One way or another, there will be more food than we have seen all winter.”
“Sounds good to meeee … ” Roly called over his shoulder as the six of them loped away.
Chapter 28
In the King’s tent, Rolan, Jared, and Diana sat and enjoyed a brief respite from the horrors of the war that had now officially begun, for them at least. For the King and the rest of his army, today was no different than any other day of battle. Food was available thanks to the advance preparations of Turman Pandieth. The wounded had been sequestered and were being cared for by the Ravenwild healers. The dead had been buried. Tomorrow’s strategy needed to be finalized by the leadership and the proper orders given out. On it went.
“I must ask you now, or I might never get the chance to ask you again, and I must know,” said Rolan to Diana. “Why did you leave?”
“Father, I had had enough of the never-ending war, the killing, the destruction. Ever since I was a little girl, it seemed that all of those that I had come to love... they all died. Uncle Sean, Uncle Matthew, Uncle Benjamin, Uncle Yohan, most of my cousins. The list is too long to remember … Imagine that. The essence of your life reduced to a list of the dead that is too long to remember.
“It was easier for Erik. He, at least, was allowed to fight. I, despite all the training in swordplay and bowmanship, was never allowed to be part of the fight. I was left alone. All I could do was grieve.” She paused, stroking her hair back away from her face. “I couldn’t take the pain anymore, so I went away to live in the woods. I wanted to be alone, where I wouldn’t have to hear any more news of my friends and loved ones dying.”
“I can surely understand your reasons,” said the King. “I always thought that I had failed you in some way.”
“Oh no, Father. It was not you, nor Mother. It was this crazy, mixed up world that we live in. Take today. How many Ravenwild wives will now live out the rest of their lives in sadness without their husbands? How many Ravenwild children will do the same without their fathers? And not just on our side, but on the side of the enemy as well. Does it matter any less to the Troll wives and the Troll children? Will they miss them any less than we, because they fight for the other side?”
The silence that filled the tent was deafening.
“But now, I am of a mind that we need to fight this war to the end, and we either win it, or we lose it. Either way, the killing will finally stop. Maybe that’s the whole point, to just stop all the killing.”
There was another long silence in the tent as her words settled over them like a dense mist.
The King broke it with, “Jared, I want to thank you for what you did today. We surely weren't expecting that attack, and it might have been an entirely different outcome had you two not shown up when you did.”
One of the guards outside the King’s tent stuck his head inside. “Wizard Paulimas would have a word with you, My King.”
“Of course,” said Rolan.
Paulimas entered, ducking his tall frame to allow him access to the inside.
He spied Diana, and his mouth dropped open. “Princess Diana,” he beamed. “You are alive!” They embraced warmly as his eyes filled up. “This is the best of news.”
“Thank you, Paulimas. This is my dearest friend, Jared.”
They shook hands. “I am told you would be the one responsible for those interesting tactics against the Trolls today. I heard about it as I rode in. I would appreciate it if we could get together before I leave, so that I might learn more of how you did this.”
“Of course,” said Jared.
“And the shrouding spells, My Lord. Did they hold up? Were the troops truly hidden when they burst forth to have at the backs of the Trolls?”
“They were perfect,” said Rolan. “Well played, wizard,”
Paulimas studied his King. He saw the weariness, the lines of stress, the grief over the never-ending litany of death. He too very much wanted the killing to end, so that all the peoples in the three lands could live in peace, free of the ever-present dread that today might be the fateful day when you and your entire family were wiped from the face of the planet at the hands of the enemy.
Such a simple concept: No enemies.
But for now, they had a wall to repair.
“My King,” he said, “as you know, it has always been the plan, ever since we decided to take the fight to the Trolls in King’s Port, to use the wizards to help with their counterattack from the north. We know this is sure to happen as soon as their northern commanders learn of our presence in the south of Vultura. May I sit?”
“By all means.” The King knew his wizard well enough to know that something was amiss.
Paulimas took a seat at the small table in the tent.
“My Lord,” he said. “The magic is failing.”
Rolan’s face paled. “What?”
“There can be no doubt, My King. The six of us have all noticed that our ability to conjure has diminished daily now for several days in a row. Not drastically, mind you, but the diminution is real. As real as we are all gathered here. It started with some of the more powerful shrouding spells we were laying down in anticipation of the counterattack. Now, a complicated shrouding spell is by no means a simple feat, but would normally be easily accomplished by a wizard-of-the-first-school. We managed to lay them down, but only by combining our talents and executing them together. Now some of the simple spells are proving difficult, and while I believe we could still be of some assistance in the next few days, my fear is that if we delay our return to Belcourt, we will not be able to assist in the repair of the Great Wall. And without the Great Wall, no matter how well we fight, the remaining citizens will all be hunted down and killed. We need to repair it, My Lord. It is the only hope our peoples have of surviving. What, after all, will be the point of a military victory if the only survivors are the warriors themselves? Our peoples have proven extremely resourceful at evading the constant searches in the wild by the Troll war parties, but they are running out of places to hide.”
Rolan’s face took on the determined look of a leader who must take control of a situation that, if handled well, might succeed, but if handled poorly, could doom all.
“There it is,” he said. “You will depart for Belcourt immediately. It was always the plan to have you return there as soon as we had launched the great ship and retreated, but it appears we now have no choice but to carry on without you.”
Paulimas stood and bowed. “I am deeply sorry, My Lord.”
“Wizard, please. I will not have you apologizing for something that is not your fault. Go now, with haste. Repair the Wall. And be sure that the word is spread for the citizens to return as soon as it is structurally sound. We too will need it intact when we return.
