As the Wolf Howls

by Michael Linford

  Michael Linford

  presents

  As the Wolf Howls

  Text copyright © Michael Linford 2016

  Design copyright © Jacqueline Abromeit 2016

  All rights reserved.

  Micheal has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by electronic, mechanical or any other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying or recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publisher and Author.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, or you were not provided with a review copy by the Publisher or Author only, then please return to rowanvalebooks.com or our online distributors and purchase your own copy, as well as informing us of a potential breach of copyright. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  First published 2016

  by Rowanvale Books Ltd

  Imperial House

  Trade Street Lane

  Cardiff

  CF10 5DT

  www.rowanvalebooks.com

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBNs

  e-Pub: 978-1-910832-20-2

  Mobi: 978-1-910832-21-9

  PDF: 978-1-910832-22-6

  ‘To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your soul. Just be sure something you want to view is there.’

  - Unknown

  This book is dedicated to all those whose lands have become lost, and to my little tribe for their love and constant support.

  PROLOGUE

  The flames leapt higher, engulfing the settlement almost instantly. Through the thick smoke Majila could see them searching and destroying everything in their path. The screams emanating from his burning village tore at his heart. It was as if he felt every bit of pain being inflicted on his tribe; he did not feel any physical pain though, it was more than that, far more. Each deathly scream stripped away another layer of his inner being and he was almost rooted to the spot where he crouched, hidden from those responsible for all this death and destruction.

  He watched as familiar faces were dragged out into the clearing by their hair; he watched their fear and agony as they bravely fought the attackers as best they could. His people were not fighters by nature, and although they struggled bravely to defend themselves, it was all in vain. Before his eyes, all manner of violence became them. As the smoke rose higher he was able to see more clearly the land where his village had stood just hours before. The huts that hadn’t already burned to the ground were engulfed in flame and heading towards the same fate.

  In the open land before him he saw bodies, dozens of them, lying bloodied and lifeless in piles scattered everywhere. His pain intensified as he saw not just elders, but women and children too. All killed by this force that he had not seen before and knew nothing about. The men moved in a group past the newly slaughtered settlers and on further into the burning village. At once, he leapt to his feet and ran out into the smoke. Quickly stepping in a half- crouched position, he made his way to the last of the elders he had watched them kill. He bent down and gently turned the lifeless elder’s head towards him; the blood covered his hands as he knelt by the limp body and whispered words, seemingly to himself: ‘Take these souls lightly, dear Mother, and let the light of the moon grant them a chance again, with nothing but goodness in their hearts. Let them begin a new journey.’ He closed his eyes and stayed quiet for a long moment, deep in thought, trying to send each and every lost soul into the safety of the spirit world’s embrace.

  As he opened his eyes, his blood ran cold. In all the confusion he had forgotten about Aalym and their child. Aalym was supposed to have gone out into the woods, taking Esmee with her, so she could start to learn about the forest, its spirits and the power it wields. But that morning Esmee had been restless and Aalym decided it wasn’t the right time for her first lessons. They must have been here when the attacks started! The realisation made Majila leap to his feet and run directly through the flames, towards their hut. The heat hit him before he got close enough to see that his hut was raging with flames that shot up high into the sky and lapped at the trees behind them. Majila thundered through the flames, bursting into the hut, before throwing himself to the coolest part, the clay floor. He crawled through, calling for Aalym, struggling to make his way through the heat and thick smoke that threatened to push him back further. In the distance, he heard a cry and within seconds he made it through the fire to their eating quarters. The place was destroyed; tribal artefacts lay smashed everywhere and in the corner, crouched behind an upturned table, were Aalym and Esmee. He raced towards them and threw his arms around them both. Esmee was hysterical as she wrapped her arms around his neck, howling into his chest.

  ‘It’s all going to be okay, Esmee, I’ll get us out of here and we’ll be safe.’ As he said the words, he felt a warm sensation running down his arm and pooling at his elbow. Esmee noticed too and wailed even harder than before, turning her face deeper into him and letting his body envelope her completely. ‘Aalym, my love, we have to move. We need to run for safety. We can make it if we go now.’ It took Aalym’s lack of response before Majila realised that it was her blood running over him, not his. Hidden beneath her bowed head was a ragged stone, shaped like an arrowhead and stuck deep into her throat. The blood was seeping out from around the stone and was flowing at a constant rate.

  ‘Majila, my warrior, you cannot save me now. Take Esmee and get away to safety, it is your only hope. These men came for you and the one your magic also dwells in. It is not safe for you two here; with my blessing to guide you, you must leave now.’ The words were whispered, her pain overwhelming as she spoke each one.

  ‘I cannot leave you. You are my Aalym, my heart, my lifeblood, I won’t leave you,’ he said, shaking as he cradled her and pleaded for her to hold on.

  ‘You must, my love. There is no time and you must save Esmee. All our fates are in your hands now and we need you more than ever. It is your time to be the leader that destiny has always foreseen for you. Please go, I beg you, save our child and know that I am always with you.’

  Majila choked back tears as he held her closer and, in that instant, he knew she was right. Her life was slipping away in his arms; he could feel her breath slowing and saw as her eyes struggled to cling onto their last view of this world. He leant forward and kissed her, releasing all his pain and hers in one last act of passion. ‘I love you, Aalym, and I always will. My heart waited for you and will wait forever to be with yours again. Travel without fear and let my love light the way for you, as yours will mine, eternally.’ He felt the last of her breath leave her and gently lowered her to the floor. Once more, he leant down, kissing her soft mouth, and then with his finger he wiped one of his tears and traced a soft line down her forehead. He removed a necklace and placed it gently around her neck, his last token of a love that blinded him and gave him complete awareness in equal measures.

  He wiped away his tears and struggled to his feet. His legs felt weak and his heart felt more lost than ever before. Esmee was looking up at him with a mixture of confusion and sadness and he knew that one day she would understand
just how strong the bond of their family’s love had been. The fire was beginning to threaten the room they were in now and Majila knew that he had to move quickly to stand any chance of getting himself and Esmee to freedom. He grabbed a long animal-skin cloak and threw it around himself, gathering some things that they’d need on their journey. They didn’t have long before any escape would be completely cut off by the fire. He threw some food and things that would be of use into a cloth sack and quickly tried to plot their best chance of escape.

  He felt a small hand tugging at his cloak and looked down to see Esmee, wrapped up in her own cloak, holding out the harness that Majila had made for her when she began to walk. It had been a surprise for Aalym and it meant that she could still go for the walks at sunset she so loved, but with Esmee safely strapped to her back. He’d made it out of skins and fur; it had taken a long time to make it sturdy enough that it was safe, but once completed, it had been a great help to Aalym, and Esmee loved being up so high that she could see everything but still feel so protected. Majila’s daydreaming was cut short by the sound of their wooden hut crackling louder as the fire grew. He took the sling and lifted Esmee onto his back. She was wrapped up tightly and wriggled into her comfortable position, with her tiny hands placed firmly on her father’s broad shoulders. ‘You are a clever girl, Esmee. I promise you that we will be okay. We must go now, so stay quiet and we will find safety.’

  Majila took her right hand in his and placed a small string of his beads in it. Then, with the fire’s strength gaining, he threw a blanket over both of them and headed back the way he had entered. The fire had risen, which left the roof’s strength dangerously unpredictable, but it meant the floor was barely smouldering now and perfect for escape. Majila crouched and, with Esmee on his back, scuttled through the main area, and out into the night. Once outside he threw the smoking blanket back into the hut, desperate to leave no signs of an escape if the men came back for a second search, and listened for any sounds of these same men who had destroyed his village. The only sounds he could hear came from the centre of the village and, without looking, he knew that the last of the bodies were being piled up in the clearing, ready to be disposed of. These men came for you and the one your magic also dwells in. Aalym’s words haunted him as he pictured the suffering of his people. They had missed his daughter though and now the two of them needed to find safety before the men came looking further.

  Majila stood straight, the dark night and the smoke acting as a perfect cover for their escape. Quickly but carefully, he stepped into the woods and, with his beautiful daughter on his back, journeyed into the unknown.

  CHAPTER 1

  Black Wolf woke with a start and sat upright in his bedding, his body dripping with sweat. It was the third night in a row that he had had that same dream. He sat there gathering his thoughts whilst his breathing returned to normal. Every time he woke up it was the same; he was frozen in some strange kind of fright and his body was soaked. All he remembered was the fire, seen through the eyes in his dream — fire reaching towards the sky, devouring everything it touched. He knew in the dream he was running, but did not know why or where. He lay back down but couldn’t escape the strange feeling that smothered him. He was a warrior. He had faced great dangers in battle and hunted the most vicious of animals, yet now he was haunted by his own rest. Sleep was not returning to him this night, he was sure, so he pulled on his cloak and headed out of his hut.

  The first lights of morning cast a blue tinge to the sky and there were just a few fading reminders of any stars that illuminated the campsite the previous night. As he looked around the camp, he noticed a figure sat by the fire that was dwindling in the morning dew. He stood, quietly stretching, and made his way over to the figure. As he got closer he realised it was Grey Moon, the eldest of the tribe and certainly the wisest. He had been with them seemingly since time began and although he wasn’t in charge, any decisions that were made always included him. Everyone regarded him as a sage; the others knew he harnessed great powers but never pushed him on the subject, sometimes out of fear but mainly out of respect.

  ‘Come sit, Black Wolf. There’s nothing to fear from the fire, I promise. Join me for a while and we can talk comfortably.’

  Black Wolf hadn’t even got close to Grey Moon but, as always, there wasn’t a chance of anyone doing anything without Grey Moon knowing.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep, Wolf? Or am I such good company that you chose to leave your night world to join me?’

  Black Wolf sensed a slight flicker of amusement on the old man’s face and wondered just how much he knew.

  ‘Your company is always a privilege, Grey Moon, I agree, but I’m up this morning as I was disturbed in my night world.’

  Black Wolf sat on the mat opposite Grey Moon, across from the fire, and stared at the dying embers before him.

  ‘The fire again, my child?’

  Black Wolf sat open-mouthed, but before he could reply, Grey Moon spoke again.

  ‘There is a time in all our lives where we must learn something. Our people have learned most through their journeys into the night world, but sadly this is a custom that few respect anymore. It appears the gods speak to you, Black Wolf, and want you to follow this path. Yours is the strongest voice of the young… Maybe you need to listen and go to the places where all truths are told?’

  Grey Moon always spoke in seemingly deep, prophetic riddles, but there was always something about him that could never be ignored.

  ‘I have listened to your stories of the night world journeys many times, Grey Moon. I have never had a vision like that though, just this dream which wakes me. It has no question or answer, there is just the fire and then I wake!’

  Grey Moon laughed softly to himself; his whole body shook and his face creased with a mixture of pleasure and frustration. ‘Trust me, Black Wolf, this is a journey. I think you should follow it and then you will find all the answers you seek. I have much faith in you and I have a gift to give you which I hope will aid you on your way.’

  From his lap, Grey Moon handed a small package to Black Wolf. It was a small wooden box with delicate engravings on it. There were five carvings in total: a rock, a stream, a flame and a small, billowing cloud. The fifth carving was an eye and was placed in the centre, with the other four placed at each corner. Black Wolf opened the box and inside was a small leather-bound book. All the pages of the book were blank and there was a precious little metal clasp on the front. It was an exquisite gift but Black Wolf had no idea why he deserved it, or where it had come from.

  ‘Why, Grey Moon? It’s beautiful, but why me? And where did it come from?’

  Grey Moon poked around in the ashes of the fire and answered slowly. ‘The box has been in my possession for years, waiting for a purpose, and the book gives it that purpose. The book is a journal for you and I got it as payment for some help I gave within the walls of the great city. All I ask is that you write in it your thoughts, your feelings and your dreams, for the journeys into the night world are the most important.’

  When he finished, Grey Moon stood slowly and wrapped himself up in his cloak.

  ‘I don’t know what to say, Grey Moon. I will do all you ask and I hope this will make sense of my dreams, for it’s true that I am haunted by this fire and long to discover what this all means.’

  Black Wolf also stood and took the old man’s hands in his before embracing him.

  ‘I must rest now, Black Wolf. Thank you for your company and good luck with your quest. With enough patience, you will find your path reveals itself to you with great ease.’ Grey Moon smiled once more and started to walk back to his own hut.

  Black Wolf sat back down by the fire, turning the book over in his hands. It was a beautiful creation and he found himself excited at the thought of using it. ‘Thank you,’ he called after the elder. ‘I will cherish it and I look forward to showing you when I have done some work within its beautiful pages. Sleep well, Grey Moon.’

  The old man he
ard him call out and waved to respond as he pulled open the covers of his hut. ‘Good luck, child. I wish I could see your work too. The fire holds no fear but sadly the spark that causes it does.’

  The words Grey Moon spoke were too low for Black Wolf to hear, and with tired bones and a heavy heart, Grey Moon settled down to sleep.

  Black Wolf lay down by the last of the fire and stared up at the sky, his thoughts no longer consumed by his dream of fire but of Grey Moon instead. He seemed so old now and Black Wolf often thought how sad it was that he was so alone, even in the camp. Black Wolf knew that the others found it hard to spend time with Grey Moon. They never knew what to talk about with him, as his own story was a closely guarded secret that seemingly only he himself knew. He had no children but Black Wolf knew what that kind of loss was like as he’d lost his own parents when he was just a baby. Grey Moon had always been there for him and they had formed a friendship over the years, so it wasn’t a surprise that he’d given Black Wolf lessons on how to discover even more of the world around him.

  Black Wolf often thought of Grey Moon as having some sort of burden which maybe one day he would share, but in all the time they had spent together this had never happened, and he knew better than to try to force anything out of him.

  As he lay there, Black Wolf studied the box again. He couldn’t understand the significance behind the carvings, but they were beautiful and he knew he would cherish both the box and the book forever. Inserting the book carefully back inside the box, he placed it next to him and closed his eyes. The fire was gone, but the burning embers created a nice enough heat for him to relax.

  Had he opened his eyes at that moment, he would’ve noticed that the symbol of a rock on the lid of the box was glowing bright red. Unaware of this strange event, Black Wolf sighed deeply and drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 2