As the Wolf Howls

by Michael Linford

  The emperor was reeling from taking in everything the stranger had told him. He felt weak but was determined to stand his ground. He couldn’t let his people down and he wouldn’t lose his daughter. ‘These people mean nothing to you — let them go and take me. You could slaughter everyone here and still not find my daughter. Take me and kill me if you choose but I will not hand her over to you — not now, not ever!’

  The evil being sighed and glided past the emperor towards the gates of Orgent, addressing the whole of the population. ‘People of Orgent, don’t be fooled into thinking you will receive quick deaths like the guards did earlier. My powers have many forms and I can cause much suffering. Maybe I should show you what I mean?’

  With a swift movement of his arm, he sent one of the last guards flying into the walls of Orgent and kept him pinned against it. The crowd watched as the guard gasped for breath and started to cry out in pain, his face getting redder and redder as the evil being continued his torture from afar.

  ‘What you are seeing is a man consumed from within by the darkest of evils. It feels like fire running through your veins until the body either bursts into flames or just crumbles into ashes before your eyes. This fate will happen to all here until I get the princess.’

  ‘She’s gone, I promise you. Please stop, I’ll tell you everything!’ The guard was howling the words out through the pain surging in his body.

  The stranger lowered his arm and the guard dropped to the floor, his skin starting to blister, the pain etched on his face.

  ‘When you closed the doors, I saw her dive through them. The princess is outside Orgent, she was gone before you even spoke of her.’

  Still struggling to talk, the guard managed to spit out the last words before slumping in agony on the ground.

  ‘I think we have a problem then, Emperor. This could be a longer night than I suspected.’

  ‘You heard — she’s not here, why can’t you go? Leave us all in peace, we don’t have what you want!’

  The emperor’s hopes of saving Orgent were fading fast, but at least he knew his daughter was safe.

  ‘That wouldn’t work at all. You see, the princess only knows Orgent and will be forced back here eventually. So relax, Emperor. Let us sit and wait for the princess to return.’

  ***

  At the foot of the hills beyond Orgent, Amelia had stopped running. She was exhausted and needed food and rest; she had hardly stopped running since her escape. She reached a large clearing and could see that the glowing light was very close. She was looking through the small patch of trees that sheltered her and could see that the glow was a small fire. The dying embers of the fire had created such a light that she could make out two bodies lying next to it. Amelia knew that the lands surrounding Orgent were full of peaceful natives; there hadn’t been any form of war here for a few years now, so she felt safe enough to at least approach them for help. She sat down at the edge of the clearing and quietly watched, looking for any signs of movement amongst the two figures. She didn’t want to risk waking them up in case they reacted dangerously to her. Although the natives were mainly peaceful, she thought it wrong for any stranger to surprise them in their sleep and didn’t need any more trouble than she already had.

  As she sat, she tore off the strips of her dress that were ruined and used them to mop up the blood that was seeping from her many cuts. She didn’t realise she had been scratched anywhere but her arms and legs, but in the moonlight there was a small drop of blood on her forehead, in the shape of a tear. Amelia lent back against the tree and before she knew it, she was asleep.

  CHAPTER 15

  Despite the tiredness that was slowly creeping over his whole body, Majila made giant strides towards the city before him. The weight of Esmee on his back was nothing compared to the emotional weight he felt from all that had brought him here. As he got closer to the city, he slowed down and studied the scene before him. He was a stranger here and had the feeling that he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes with whom he trusted or turned to for help. Although there were no walls, the city had different layers of activities, which separated the furthest corners from the temples and buildings which stood in the middle; the closest of these layers to Majila appeared to be a market where many people were bustling around trading a huge range of different things, from food to clothing.

  Despite his hunger, Majila knew that the most important thing he had to do was seek someone who might be able to help, house and protect him; he had a small amount of food left in his sack anyway and this could last him longer if needed. From his safe distance, he could see that the locals appeared friendly — no one appeared to be carrying weapons and, though he was a stranger here, he felt confident that he would be received without any problems. As he walked towards the largest group of traders, Esmee tugged on his hair gently and repeated the word he had heard her say before: ‘Safe.’ It was as if she had read his mind and he felt even calmer in his decision to approach these strangers for help.

  There were many people milling around the various stalls and he noticed how much they ranged in age — from the very young children chasing each other around, to the elderly people sitting and creating beautiful clothing from animal furs and other brightly coloured materials. A few people looked his way but they all smiled or nodded as if to welcome him to their home; he wasn’t sure whether they were always this friendly or if their interest was softened by the beautiful child he carried steadily on his back. He did his best to smile at as many of the people whose eyes he met whilst carefully searching the area for someone that might be able to help.

  After walking through the crowds for some time, he came across an old man who was selling all sorts of herbs and spices at the far end of the market. The man had seen him walking through and had beckoned him over to his stall, showing him all the things he had to sell. After a short discussion, Majila explained to the man that he wasn’t looking for anything to buy but that he needed help and he was looking for someone who might be able to protect him and his child. He told the man a little about what had happened at his camp and the man listened intently before leading Majila away from the crowds to a large tent much like the ones they had in his own camp. As he followed the old man into the tent, visions of his people flashed into his mind once more, one minute living happily and the next everything burnt down to the ground. His eyes welled up as he saw Aalym’s face again but he knew he had to be strong — Esmee was relying on him to keep going and he wouldn’t let her down. The old man moved a seat so that Majila could sit down and then he bowed before heading back out into the open air again. Carefully, Majila slipped the sling from his back and lifted his daughter down onto his lap. She sat right up against him and he protectively put his big arms around her, holding her close while they waited.

  As he sat there, he noticed that the tent was even larger than he thought and the part they were in was just half of the area. In it were some papers with some sort of writing on them and some blankets. The only other thing was an empty chair and he wondered what he was waiting for. From behind the curtain separating the two halves of the tent he could smell a strange sweet smoke and when he tried to look to see what the smell was coming from, the curtain moved and a man walked through and stood before him. The man was dressed from head to toe in various animal skins and furs, all woven together and with a string of sharp teeth hung around his neck. In his hand was a metal ball on a chain and the sweet smoke he could smell was spilling out from small holes in the metal object.

  ‘Welcome, I hear you have come to our city seeking help?’ the man said in a deep but strangely soothing voice. ‘I am a guide for my people here; maybe I can help you too? First I must know that you mean us no harm though, and then you need to tell me your story.’ The man sat on the chair opposite Majila, still holding the chain whilst the smoke continued to seep out of the metal ball.

  ‘I can promise you, I am no threat to you or your people. All I seek is safety for my daughter and I. My peopl
e are all gone now and we are left without anywhere to go; I fear we may be in danger unless we can get your help. You can search my bag, I have no weapons, just some food for the journey my daughter and I made down from the mountains.’ Majila spoke calmly and laid his bag at the feet of this strange man before him.

  ‘That is not necessary — I sense you are a man who can be trusted and what you have in your possession is no business of mine. We are all friends here and if we can help you in any way then we will. My name is Drei Ran, I am known as many things amongst my people — a teacher, a spiritual traveller — but I am the shaman of this land and there are not many problems that I haven’t been able to help with in the past. Tell me everything and we shall see what it is best to do for you both.’ Despite how frail this old man looked, he had a strength that made Majila believe he would be able to help so, holding Esmee tightly to him, he told the story of what had happened at the campsite, making sure he didn’t leave anything out.

  As Drei Ran listened carefully to everything that was being said, he sat calmly focusing on the smoke spilling out of his orb, but Majila noticed how he seemed concerned on occasion and how his body appeared to have become more tense as the story unfolded. Exhausted, he finally finished giving Drei Ran all the details and sat back in his chair, rubbing Esmee’s back and kissing the top of her head.

  ‘It sounds like you have been through a terrible ordeal, my friend, one I am truly sorry for. However, there is very little either my people or I can do for you, I’m afraid. You see, we live by simple means here, keeping within our region and neither causing trouble or looking for it, so you see we would be unequipped to help you deal with such darkness and violence.’ Drei Ran looked uncomfortable as he spoke and Majila couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was more to this lack of help than he was revealing.

  ‘You are more than welcome to stay here awhile until you work out your next steps. I’m not sending you away, merely stating that there is no help available to deal with this problem here.’

  Majila tried to speak up, but the exhaustion of all he had suffered left him speechless. He fought against the flood of emotions building up in him, determined to appear strong and unshaken, and stood up, hoisting Esmee up onto his back again.

  Drei Ran stepped forward and handed a leather bag to Majila, his head bowed and his face stern. ‘Here is the only help I can give you, my friend. There are enough coins here to help you pay for somewhere to stay and feed yourself before you head on your way. If you need more while you are here then come and find me. I’m sorry I can do no more. I wish you good luck on your journey.’ He dropped the bag into Majila’s palm and disappeared back around the curtain from where he had come earlier. Majila was angry and didn’t want to stay in the smoke-filled tent anymore, so with Esmee on his back, he headed out into the fresh air again.

  With his visitors gone, Drei Ran sat on the ground behind the curtain with his head in his hands, speaking to the sky with his eyes closed. ‘Gods above, please let that child leave this city and take these troubles far away. Protect us all from the great powers that threaten and allow us to carry on our existence of peace.’ He touched his forehead with both hands and then lay down on the blankets next to him. The sickness washed over him as he thought of these two innocents becoming victims of the dark, but he had the lives of all his people to protect and this was surely the only way.

  Majila made his way through the throng of market stalls, built high with wooden frames and all using thin, brightly coloured sheets to keep the traders and goods separated. He felt dejected and couldn’t bear to think of what they would do next; his only hope was that he could hide out here with Esmee for a while and hope that Drei Ran changed his mind about helping them before it was too late. He was sure there was something that this strange magic man could do for them, but couldn’t push him when he appeared so unwilling to help.

  As he walked through the lanes of stalls, Majila became aware of a man in dirty brown robes who appeared to be following him. The man had a big beard and looked like he hadn’t washed in a long time, yet he was able to drift in and out of the other people without causing a fuss. Majila stopped at an open doorway of a stall and waited for the man to catch up with him, wondering if he would just walk past without any bother and that maybe all this was in Majila’s head as he became more worried about being searched for.

  The man ducked past Majila, into the open doorway, and spoke over his shoulder without stopping. ‘The magic man couldn’t help you, I see? This city is full of cowards. They bury their heads in the sand rather than stand up for what they believe in. Trust me, I have seen it time and time again, it sickened me long ago and it still does today. Follow me, stranger — I have what you need and it would be a pleasure to help you.’

  Majila followed the stranger at a safe distance; he didn’t know who he could trust and he had the wellbeing of Esmee to worry about. He couldn’t fight with a child on his shoulders, yet he didn’t dare put her down and risk her being snatched from him. The stranger led Majila through a couple of connected but empty stalls until he reached one that was dark except for an oil-burning lamp in the middle of the room. As Majila’s eyes became accustomed to the light, he could see all sorts of weapons laid out on tables. Everything from knives to arrows and other dangerous looking items he had never even seen before were spread out in front of him. The stranger stood between these tables with his arms spread wide.

  ‘Take your time, stranger, and look at all the weapons I have here. Then, when it is time, let the weapon choose you as its owner — you need to feel drawn to it and then you know it is the right one for you.’

  ‘How much are these weapons though? They look costly and I haven’t got much to pay with; I still need to buy food and clothes for my daughter.’ Majila knew that having a weapon would help protect both of them but couldn’t afford not to feed Esmee.

  ‘If something chooses you, it will cost you nothing, stranger. I can see you come from a land where people live differently to us and it’s the sort of land I wish I was part of, rather than here where we all hide from anything rather than fight for what we have. It would be an honour to aid you, trust me.’

  Majila crouched down and took Esmee from his back, sitting her on the folded-up sling on the floor of the hut. ‘Stay,’ he whispered, before kissing her cheek and moving over to the tables of weapons. As he stood in front of the tables, he closed his eyes and held his hands out before him, letting them hover over all the different shaped objects before him. It was the sort of thing he had seen his elders do before, around the campfire, and he prayed quietly to himself that they would guide him and this would work. As his hands swept over all the weapons, he found the palm of his right hand become very hot as it stopped in the same area on two occasions. With his eyes shut, he instinctively closed his grip around the object beneath his hand, and lifted it towards his face.

  Opening his eyes, Majila looked at what he was holding. In the palm of his hand was the handle of a beautifully shaped sword. It was only about two hand spans long, but it was beautifully formed, with a strong flat edge that joined a sharp curve all the way back to the base of the handle again. On the handle was a curved bit of metal that appeared to serve as some sort of protection for the hand when used in battle. Majila had never seen anything like it and although there were plenty of other bigger swords and bejewelled weapons available, this was his choice. He turned to the stranger and held it out to him.

  ‘The perfect fit for you, stranger — easy to hide but deadly in battle. It chose you well.’ The man smiled to Majila and handed him a sheath made from skins that he secured round his waist under his robe.

  ‘Thank you. My name is Majila, so I’m not a stranger anymore.’ Majila bowed his head towards the man and slipped the sword into the sheath before concealing it under his clothing.

  ‘Majila, it is my honour. You are all strangers to me though. Come, follow me and I can show you somewhere to sleep.’ The stranger passed through
a curtain at the back of the stall and motioned for Majila to follow him. Majila picked Esmee up and, as he looked at her smiling face, he felt a faint glimmer of hope for the first time since they had escaped the campsite.

  Stepping out through the back of the stranger’s tent, Majila found himself entering a white brick building that was attached to the longest tier of the temple. He could just make out the top of the temple, towering over him, the pure white building shining brightly in the sun. The lowest level was a long run of buildings with huge straight steps leading up to the main entrance of the temple and he guessed that this would be the living area for some of those who lived here.

  The stranger entered the last of the buildings in the row and waited for Majila and Esmee, before closing the door behind them. Inside were a series of small rooms each with lockable doors made of thick metal bars and sleeping areas made out of blankets heaped together.

  ‘These are our prison quarters, where we keep anyone who breaks the sacred laws of our city. They are rarely used these days but will provide good cover, away from prying eyes. You can stay here with me at night; the doors will be shut but not locked, and during the day you are free to come and go as you please.’

  Majila looked around the cramped quarters and sensed that it would be a safe place to hide, but he had one big concern. ‘This does seem safe, but what about Esmee? This is no place for a child and she has been through more than enough already.’

  The stranger stepped towards Majila and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘I have a plan for your daughter but it means being separated from her at night. I know you might fear this, but trust me, I wouldn’t have either of you come to any harm.’

  ‘I want to trust you, you have done so much for us already, but I cannot do anything to put Esmee at risk. She is all I have left.’ Majila felt troubled, questioning his aide, but he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.