by Cheree Alsop
“You felt that assaulting Lord Vesut was the best course of action?” Joven asked in a neutral tone.
I nodded, but didn’t turn to face him. I was afraid of what I might see. If he feared me as the others did, it would undo me completely.
He kept silent but followed me until I stopped in a small alcove that had been allowed to grow wild. Thorny rose branches wrapped between dark green vines that gave off a heady scent of grapes ready for harvest. I stepped out of my shoes, anxious for the feeling of loam underfoot. The chaos of my thoughts slowed at the familiar sensation of broken earth, smooth stones, and the cool touch of moss that wound between the rocks of the cobbled path. I longed to be a wolf and run without looking back. Except wolves didn’t run from what frightened them. They faced it head on to protect those they cared about, the same way I had protected Koya.
I pushed my hair back from my face and let out a sharp breath. “What should I have done?” I asked in a rough voice as the tumultuous emotions I felt colored the words.
Joven didn’t answer. A slight rustle of clothing heralded movement and I turned to see him slip off his shoes and hold them in one hand. He removed a pair of white silk stockings as well. He studied his bare feet. After a moment, he wiggled his toes experimentally. He gave a slight smile. “This isn’t bad.”
A laugh caught in my throat. After all that had happened, the young duke-to-be was experiencing the joy of connecting with the earth for the first time. “It’s calming,” I said.
He nodded. “Yes, it is.” The surprise in his voice brought a small smile to my face. His brows pinched together. “I think I understand why you don’t like shoes.”
“They’re horrid.”
He gave a laugh that ended in a sigh. “I can’t blame you, Victus. If I could have punched Lord Vesut, I would have done so the first day I met him. Both of us were spoiled brats, but he was worse by far. He’s acted as if he owned Vielkeep from the beginning, and when Father died. . . .” His words faded away. Sorrow hung in the air when the late Duke was mentioned; it was obvious he had been well-loved and was sorely missed.
Joven swallowed and shook his head. “Enough of that. What’s done is done. I can pass it off as foreign diplomacy and hope the others will remember the lesson.” A sparkle of laughter hinted in his eyes. He gave a sharp nod and spun on his bare feet toward the castle. “That will do, and might even protect Koya in passing.”
“Joven?” I said before he reached the corner of the garden.
He glanced back with a questioning look. I tipped my chin pointedly at his feet. He followed my gaze and let out a loud laugh. “What would society say if I walked in with earth and leaves on my feet instead of shoes?” He leaned awkwardly against the hedge and pulled on the socks followed by his highly-polished footwear. When he was done, he gave his feet an ungentlemanly stomp. “Hmph,” he said with a slight frown. “Now you’ve gone and spoiled my appetite for fine leather and silk stockings. The ground felt much better without them.”
He disappeared around the corner. I listened to the crunch of his shoes on the path until they faded away. Another sound caught my attention. I turned my head to the south and strained my human ears. The sharp ring of metal on stone was followed by a strangled cry. Footsteps shuffled on earth and a heavy body thumped into another. A rush of adrenaline flooded my limbs. The castle was in danger.
Chapter 11
I ran barefoot along the edge of the garden, leaped the tall hedge at the end, then darted through a cove of aspen and evergreens that surrounded a small lake. Fading stars reflected in the water, reminding me that my time to change was coming near. I ran past the trees, then slowed at the sight of Rasmus’ soldiers battling Viel within the castle walls.
The battle was nearly silent, peppered only by yells of pain and the sound of metal on flesh and stone. The Viel fought without a sound, their teeth bare and yellow in their gaping black mouths. They lashed out at soldiers who drew near; several men wearing Vielkeep’s black and red were held within jagged claws, their lifeblood pouring from mortal wounds. More Viel climbed over the wall and landed with an expectant silence made more ominous by the scent of rotten milk and mildewed stinkweed. Their skin fluttered in a vacant breeze and the holes where their eyes should be turned toward the men, making those who still stood cower in fear.
“Force them back to the forest,” Rasmus’ voice called from the other side of the wall. The sounds of the skirmish came louder as though the men on that side fought a thicker horde of attackers.
Another group of soldiers ran down the wall to join their companions. The mass of Viel surged forward to meet them. The guards didn’t hesitate. They attacked the front and sides like a pack of wolves and I felt a rush of familiarity in the heat of battle. The call to help those I cared about thrummed through my body; I crossed the ground between us at a run.
I dove under the reaching claws of a Viel, then grabbed one of its feet and rolled when I hit the ground. The Viel fell against two others, bringing them down so that one of the soldiers could end their struggles with a quick slice of his sword. Another yell sounded on the other side of the wall. The sound came from Rasmus. I picked up a knife off a fallen guard and held it between my teeth, then climbed quickly up the wall.
Three Viel were on their way over when I reached the top. The two nearest reached for me before I could gain my footing. I sliced at one set of claws, spun on a knee and jabbed the other Viel in the stomach, then turned again and threw the first one off the wall. The Viel I had stabbed toppled silently after it into the crowd below. I rose and met the next one head-on.
The black holes where its eyes should have been leered at me while its mouth opened in a silent scream. It moved faster than my eyes could follow and grabbed me by the throat. The creature picked me up and its claws dug into my skin. I struggled, but couldn’t loosen its grip. Below us, Vielkeep soldiers fought on either side of the wall. On the side closest to the castle the guards were winning, but on the other side the Viel were pushing the soldiers back through sheer strength of numbers. The Viel’s claws tightened, cutting off my breath. I grabbed at its arms, but it wouldn’t release its hold. I fought to pull in a breath. Panic thundered through me as black spots began to dance in my vision.
At the last minute, I remembered the weakness from the Viel I fought with Joven. I kicked the creature right below its arm. Its mouth opened in a silent scream and it lowered me just enough so I could drive the knife through the gaping hole between its teeth. The sagging skin of its face slid along my hand when I pulled back. The creature stumbled, one hand still around my throat and the other clutching at the knife. White froth bubbled from its mouth. It teetered on the edge of the wall. My fingers scrambled desperately against its claws and I managed to break free just as the Viel fell.
We plummeted together toward the seething mass on the far side of the wall. I turned the creature just before we slammed into the bodies of at least six other Viel grappling with soldiers. The fall knocked the remaining breath from my lungs and I rolled, gasping past my scratchy throat. I pulled in two good breaths and looked around for a weapon. The scent of earth tainted by white reeking blood and the fear and desperation of Rasmus’ soldiers filled my nose.
“Create a barrier by the wall. Push them back,” Rasmus yelled above the strange clatter of swords on decaying bodies and the moans of dying men.
A sword fell near my head. I looked up to see a soldier’s eyes roll back. Claws protruded from his stomach and lifeblood slicked his black and red jerkin. I grabbed the sword and drove it through the Viel’s throat before the creature could react. I fumbled with the long blade, but managed to right it in time to disembowel another creature before the Viel around me realized I was a threat.
A sound like the wind blowing through the branches of a dead tree rustled past. The Viel turned in a silent, seething mass. A shudder ran through my skin. Gratitude and relief filled me at the faint brush of sunlight on my shoulders. I threw down my sword and ripped
off the shirt Joven had lent me. I doubted he would want it back now that it was covered in white sticky ooze and the stench of a long-decaying Viel. Of course, he might be able to turn it into a new fashion.
A snort of crazed laughter left me as my limbs pulled and I changed into the familiar, welcome form of the wolf. A growl ripped from my bruised throat and a swell of fury fueled my muscles. I knew how to fight like a wolf, and wolves defended their territory and loved ones with their life. The Viel had threatened those I cared about, and now they would pay.
I swept through the mass with vengeance on my teeth. Each bite and torn limb drove them back. Red danced in front of my eyes as I dodged claws and leaped in to rent decaying guts and shredded skin. The sound of the wind through dried branches increased as the Viel drew closer to the forest. The soldiers around me strengthened their attacks and Rasmus’ voice rose above them, leading his men as they defended their castle, Lord, and Lady.
When the remaining Viel reached the trees, they vanished between them like wraiths in the shadows. I paced the trees, willing them to return. Their smell lingered in the air as a reminder of how many had escaped. It was over too soon. My blood still boiled with anger at their attack. I didn’t want to rest with their threat at our backs.
“Victus.”
My eyes searched the dark trees restlessly. The rising sun barely pierced the shadowy depths, but it was obvious they were gone.
“Victus.”
It was Rasmus who spoke. I suddenly realized that a deep silence stood where the sound of soldiers regrouping should have been.
I turned slowly to face the General. His guards stood behind him in a silent, watchful half-circle, their expressions mixed between fear and awe. They had seen me change when I fought beside them to defeat the Viel.
“Are you alright?” Rasmus asked. Blood streaked the side of his face, but he looked otherwise unharmed.
I couldn’t have said anything even if I had the ability to do so. The Viel had almost overrun Vielkeep Castle. I had changed in front of an entire battalion, compromising Koya’s position and my own at Vielkeep. The Viel were still in the forest behind me threatening the safety of those I had come to care about. I wanted to run the creatures out completely, but they had vanished and left me with plenty to explain and no ability to do so.
Unsure of what to expect, I took a step toward Rasmus. My breath caught in my throat when he dropped to one knee and put a fist over his heart. “You turned the tide of battle, Victus. We owe you a great debt of gratitude for helping us save Vielkeep.”
The soldiers around him looked at each other. Several dropped to the ground beside their General, exhaustion and relief on their faces. Rasmus rose and turned to his men. “Victus’ secret protects our Lady Vielslayer from those who are trying to harm her. Swear to me that you will keep his secret and protect them both as he has protected us. We have bled as brothers, and as brothers we will defend Vielkeep from the inside and out.”
A multitude of voices repeated his last words and the tightness in my shoulders loosened to leave weariness in its stead. Guards turned away to help the wounded, and though I caught a few questioning glances thrown my way, there was little hostility or fear in their eyes, only pain and the weariness of soldiers who lived when their friends had died.
“We need to report to Lord and Lady Vielslayer,” Rasmus said.
I looked up to see sorrow in his eyes as he surveyed the slaughter of his men and the torn bodies of the Viel among them. It was easy to see that no one had expected such an attack; I knew as well as he did how close we had come to losing the battle and letting the Viel in to destroy Vielkeep.
I paced at Rasmus’ side. He gave a few quiet orders, directions for burning the slain Viel and instructions to take his fallen men to the chapel until their bodies could be prepared for burial. He paused and picked up a scrap of used-to-be-white cloth. I recognized it as my shredded shirt, once a frilly white article of clothing Joven was proud of, now just a tattered remnant of how I revealed my ability to change form to Rasmus’ men in order to save their lives.
“Lieutenant, join us,” Rasmus said to a man with a white streak in his black hair. He looked young to be a lieutenant, but as he followed the General, his eyes held the alert look of someone who was no stranger to battle. Thin white scars showed on his forearms and a long-healed wound at his brow had resulted in the white streak. He surveyed the men and the bloody field as Rasmus did, two men battle-weary and concerned about a foe who might return stronger than Vielkeep was prepared to defend against.
Rasmus took a side door into the castle I hadn’t used before; as he wound his way unseen through back passageways, I noted them in the back of my mind in case I ever needed such a path myself. The Lieutenant glanced at me several times while we walked, but when I met his gaze he looked away without a word. We paused in a small wash room where both men rinsed their hands and Rasmus scrubbed the blood from the side of his face. The wound close to his hairline was small and had already begun to close.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” the General asked me quietly as he patted his hands dry on a dark blue towel. I wondered if he could smell the lingering scent of Viel that tainted his clothes. The same odor clung to my fur. I fought an overwhelming urge to roll in some leaves or splash thorough Vielkeep Castle’s courtyard fountain. I nodded and again felt the Lieutenant’s gaze, but ignored it.
Rasmus studied me carefully for a moment, then pushed open another door. A servant sat in one of the regal, highly-polished oak chairs with clawed feet and a hawk emblazoned in gold at the head. The boy scrambled to his feet at our entrance and stuttered an apology with a quick bow.
“Tell Lord and Lady Vielslayer that their presence is requested in the Red Room,” Rasmus said. A slight twinkle showed in his eyes, but he kept his voice stern and frowned in disapproval.
“Y-yes, G-general,” the servant stuttered before he slipped out the door.
When it shut, Rasmus gave a quiet chuckle. “Guess I needed to see that after what we’ve been through.” He glanced down at me. “Reminds you that not everyone feels the world’s about to end.”
“Or they’re taking advantage of the luxuries of life before it does,” the Lieutenant said in a wry tone from where he stood near the door.
“Perhaps we should recommend a discreet removal of the finer candlesticks before they are pawned,” Rasmus replied gamely.
The Lieutenant laughed. The sound surprised me; for two men who had been in a battle, they acted surprisingly nonchalant.
Rasmus must have read my look because he gave a knowing nod. “Don’t worry, Victus. Sometimes humor is man’s way to adapt to situations beyond our control.” He sobered. “They surprised us. It won’t happen again.” The steel in his voice was answered in the Lieutenant’s nod.
I padded to the window and gazed down at the courtyard below. I wished we could see the back of the castle where the battle had been, but Rasmus’ men would send a warning if the Viel were spotted again. Given their hasty retreat, I doubted they would be back without regrouping, if indeed such creatures regrouped.
The servant opened the door again and stepped aside to let Koya and Joven in. Both looked worn out from dancing through the night and Koya’s cheeks were flushed. “What’s the matter? We only meet in the Red Room if-” Her words stopped mid-sentence when she saw the blood on both men’s clothes.
“What happened?” Joven demanded.
“Viel attacked the Keep,” Rasmus said.
“But-” Koya’s eyes met mine and widened. “What is Victus doing here?”
“He turned the tide of battle,” Rasmus replied. He took a step toward me. “He distracted them and his attack threw them off balance so we could gain the upper hand. Without him, you might be facing Viel right now instead of suitors.”
“Viel might be easier,” Koya replied quietly. The flush of her cheeks deepened when she realized she had spoken the words out loud.
“Why did they attack?”
Joven demanded. “How many were there? Why were we not warned?”
He moved with Rasmus to the far window. The Lieutenant stayed by the door and I realized Rasmus had placed him there defensively. The unspoken action said a lot about the way both men worked. The safety of their pack was the biggest concern.
Koya knelt next to me, hesitated, then threw her arms around my neck. I winced inadvertently when she brushed against the bruises and shallow wounds the Viel had left when he tried to strangle me. Koya noticed and sat up. She gently began to work through the fur of my neck until she found the marks. When she did, something tender and painful like heartache and remorse filled her eyes. They shone brightly in the candlelight when she looked at me. “Your fearlessness is going to get you killed if you don’t stop forgetting yourself to save others.”
I couldn’t tell her it wasn’t fearlessness. You can’t face creatures as vile, dangerous, and horrifying as the Viel without fear. But it wasn’t the fear of them that drove me, it was the fear of what would happened if we failed and they indeed flooded Vielkeep Castle with their reaching claws and silently gaping mouths ready to tear apart any in their path. My fear for Koya’s safety fueled the recklessness that drove me to action.
“We need to call a war council,” Joven concluded at the window. Rasmus nodded his assent. He glanced toward the door. “Lieutenant Aled, we’re going to need a head.”
The command struck me as strange, but the Lieutenant saluted his general, Joven, Koya, and then, surprisingly, me, before he turned and left the room.
