by Kyle Tolle
Crahul motioned to the door. “We’ll be heading toward the Low Fields now, I hope?”
The group funneled out of the store and walked down the road, past the threshold where the cobblestone ended and the packed dirt began. A mile later, it swung southeast toward distant settlements, the largest of which was Harsenth. Weith stepped off the road after some three odd miles and led them north to the Low Fields.
As Hantle stepped into the clearing, grass brushed his shins and a breeze turned his view into a shimmering green expanse. It was a beautiful sight but for the enormous barren tree, reaching out of the ground like some gnarled hand. The sheep heads hung in the crooks of the upper branches, which bowed with the weight. Trailing from each head was a spine. They all swayed in a gust of wind, but Hantle imagined them instead writhing in pain.
“How did the wolf,” Shec asked, “climb so high?”
Weith said, “Tree must still be pretty strong, right? Though a few limbs did come down.”
Hantle turned his attention to the rest of the field. “Which way had your flock run?”
Weith blew a short blast on his whistle and the dogs came to his side. “Over here.” He led them to the area. The sheep had clearly trampled the grasses and underbrush as they fled south.
Rounfil and Eayol, the two most experienced with tracking, followed the trail until the ground turned hard and it disappeared. By spreading out and continuing in that same direction for several hundred feet, they came to a place where the trees thinned out and the ground became softer, putting a spring in Hantle’s step. There, Rounfil located the prints once more, and the group kept on. They passed back over the dirt road as the tracks led into thicker forest. Again, rocky ground obscured the trail, but Eayol located a creek whose mud contained hoof tracks. Eyeing the spacing, she said, “They had slowed to a walking pace by this point.”
As they crested a small escarpment, down which water tumbled, Hantle saw the first of the sheep. Others stood beyond, grazing on grasses that sprouted between thick tree roots.
“Oh, what a fantastic sight!” Weith clutched a hand to his chest. “But why did you all run so far?” With a chirp on the whistle, the dogs sat. Weith walked to one of the sheep and patted its head. “I’m sure glad to see you. Let’s see how many of you stuck together.”
Hantle gave a nod to Rounfil and Eayol. “Nice work, you two.”
“Yes”—Weith clapped his hands together—“I cannot thank you enough.”
“Just glad we found them,” Rounfil said.
Eayol’s cheeks blushed. “Well, you know how it’s nice to put a skill to use, to help others.”
Hantle looked about and spotted the source of the creek: a low-hung cave. The hindquarter of a lamb showed then disappeared. He approached the cave and found, just inside its mouth, several more of the flock. “There are more over here,” he called as he crouched down to draw them out.
They ambled toward the others and Weith whistled for his dogs to round up the flock. After counting them, Weith’s excitement dampened. “Thirteen? Oy, that’s far less than half.”
“How many did you start with?” Crahul frowned at the sheep.
“Thirty-seven. With the eight eaten, that leaves”—Weith did the calculation in his head—“sixteen missing, right?”
“Okay,” Hantle said. “Still some work to do then.”
Shec made a sweeping motion with her hands. “We can fan out to see if any are nearby.”
The six of them scoured the surrounding area but found neither sheep nor indication of their whereabouts.
They were miles from the Low Fields. Miles over which those sheep could have splintered off. The thought of covering that amount of land was daunting, but Hantle felt a sense of duty toward the shepherd. Through the wolf, they had been brought together, and Hantle wanted to protect Weith just as he wanted to protect Founsel. “If we trace back,” he said, “we might find where the group split.”
Weith looked torn. “I appreciate the offer muchly, but we could be days looking for the remaining ones and still not find them. I’ll count my luck we found this many.” He turned the whistle over in his hand. “As much as I’m worried about the missing ones, I’m even more worried about staying here another night. It’d be worse to lose them all.”
“We’ll all be heading back to Founsel now, I hope,” Crahul said.
Weith shook his head. “Staying in Founsel would draw the wolf in. The sheep are easy prey, right? I can’t make you a target like that. Especially after you helped me like you did. I’ll move farther east, at least until the menace has passed.”
Hantle did not like the idea of Weith setting out on his own. “Our watch last night was effective. We lit up the entire village and patrolled the outskirts. I bet you’d be safest there with us.” He noticed the sun riding low in the sky. “And the day’s getting on.”
Rounfil nodded. “We can put the flock in the village square, where they’d be best guarded.”
“Honestly, I’ll feel much better heading east. Got some family in the foothills near Bansuth. The flock’ll do well in the rolling hills there.” He put the whistle in his mouth. “We’re all ready to move now, right?” It appeared he could not be persuaded otherwise. At his command, the dogs herded the flock north.
This was the first time Hantle had seen a shepherd at work. The dogs responded to Weith’s whistles to sweep around the flank, approach from the rear, and nip at the heels of obstinate sheep. They made good time back to the dirt road, what with no trail to lose.
When they stepped out from the forest, Hantle made one last bid. “We’re more than happy to have you in Founsel.”
Weith looked to the ground. “You all have done enough for me already. Thank you for all your help, but I must be off.” He gave a wave farewell and then started east with his flock.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS HANTLE and the search party reached Founsel, the sun dropped below the treetops. Tall clouds moved in on a wind from the north. From a distance, he saw Liova pouring oil into one of the lanterns staked around the village. She set the jar to the ground, lit the wick, and nodded as she saw the group.
She called out, “My, my, they did decide to come back. Who else is interested in hearing where they’ve been?”
As Hantle approached her, he joked, “Thanks, ma’am, for being discreet.”
She gave a mischievous smile. “Don’t sneak off if you don’t want questions.”
An eager crowd gathered and Shec asked, “What are you waiting for? Where did you all disappear to today?”
Crahul said, “I’m thinking you’ll remember the shepherd that keeps his flock in the Low Fields?” He started the telling of Weith’s story, then passed it to Hantle, who spoke and passed it on in turn, until everyone had told a portion of the search for the scattered sheep.
Liova looked past them, down the path. “Where is he now? Coming after you with the flock?”
Hantle shook his head. “No. He’s heading toward Bansuth instead. Supposedly because he didn’t want to make us a target tonight.”
“Sounds strange,” Douth said. “Not sure I buy that. Isn’t he leaving himself right out in the open?”
“That’s my thought,” Hantle agreed. “I tried to tell him we would protect him and his flock, but he was insistent about moving away from the area. What can you do?”
“As much as you did, I guess,” Shec said.
Hantle noticed most of the lanterns had been refueled and relit. “Liova, it’s good to see you’re already preparing for tonight’s watch.”
“Yes, yes, I’m happy to help. It was getting late, after all.”
“Every bit of help against this creature is advantageous,” Hantle said. “Rounfil and I were shocked last night to glimpse how the wolf had grown to the size of a bear, and Weith pointed out the very same thing.”
Liova frowned and crossed her arms. “That is a worrisome development.”
“Indeed.” Hantle turned to the group. “We had tw
o watches of four guards last night, though since we can expect the wolf will be larger tonight, we could use extra hands. Would anyone else consider joining us?”
“The more people out there,” Rounfil said, “the better odds we’ll all have of keeping it away.”
Eayol stepped forward. “I certainly don’t like the thought of that thing creeping around us each night. What do you think about me placing some snares where it has been lurking?”
“Proactive, yes.” Liova’s frown lessened. “That’s what we need.”
Rounfil patted Eayol on the back. “Let me help set them up, as a thanks for how much you contributed to the tracking today.”
Hantle looked over the faces around him. “Anyone else?” The silence held until he was sure no one else would volunteer.
Then Crahul cleared his throat and bit his lip. “Last night, I was too nervous to consider it, but I’m thinking I’m ready tonight. Something about helping Weith today felt good. Felt right. I want to keep this demon away from our village.”
“Good,” Hantle said. “We’re happy to have you, sir. That’ll give us five for each watch.” He couldn’t help but yawn. “Been a long day, hasn’t it?”
Rounfil rubbed a hand at his red eyes. “Sure has.”
“Let’s change the shifts up tonight,” Shec offered. “I’ll lead the first so you can get some rest.”
“I’m happy to join the first shift too,” Crahul said. “Got plenty of rest last night.”
“I appreciate that,” Rounfil said.
A knot formed in Hantle’s stomach. He hadn’t spent any time with Lorenca today, like he had hoped to. His face screwed up with worry. “Lorenca will appreciate that too, I expect.”
Douth scratched his neck. “Any idea of how this wolf can eat as much as it does?”
Like the others in the group, Hantle shook his head. “Just as strange, to me,” he said, “is how damn vicious it is.”
“When Hantle and me caught it unawares last night, I got my closest glimpse of it yet. The look in that thing’s eyes was . . .” Rounfil shrugged, looking for the right word.
Hantle knew what he meant. “Calculating?”
“Yes.” Rounfil nodded several times. “Calculating. That’s exactly it.”
Liova folded her hands, sucked her teeth, and under her breath said, “My, my.” She was deep in thought.
“What are you thinking, Liova?” Hantle asked.
“It’s just—” Her faraway look persisted for several long heartbeats. “Reminds me of something I studied long ago.” Her gaze returned to the present and she shook her head. She turned and without further explanation, walked away. As she trailed off, Hantle heard her muttering, “Strange, very strange.”
Her unexpected departure left the group quiet for a moment, during which Hantle wondered what all she had seen and heard in her long years.
“So . . .” Douth finally spoke. “What else do we have to do?”
A peal of thunder followed Hantle through the door. Lorenca sat at the kitchen table. She looked up from the fork held halfway to her mouth, then pursed her lips. He froze, feeling the burn of the glare. When she focused back on her meal, Hantle could move once more. He shut the door, removed his boots, and slid into his chair at the table as gently as he could. The last thing he wanted was to provoke her ire. He spooned himself a serving from the dish that a neighbor must have brought over. At least she was eating of her own volition.
Outside, a patter of rain increased in severity to become a torrential downpour. Wind rattled the windows when Lorenca spoke. “Have a nice day?”
His nerves trembled like the glass panes. That question had no correct answer, he knew that with certainty. But still he had to answer something. He mumbled, keeping his eyes on his plate. “That, uh, wolf scattered a man’s flock last night. He came in asking for help. The man did, not the wolf. So I joined the search party. Found the sheep, too, some of them, you know, and, uh, saved him from losing his livelihood.” He finally looked at her with a small, conciliatory smile.
“Mmhmm,” she said. When she stabbed the fork at the plate, he flinched. “Funny, though, since this morning you said we would have the whole day together.”
“We’re all in the same—” He paused and reconsidered his words. “Look, we’ve got tonight. We can fall asleep next to one another.”
Her fork paused. “Really?” Disbelief and hope mixed in that single word.
She was softening, which encouraged him. “Yes, yes! I’m looking forward to holding your hand and talking with you and looking into your eyes.” He took another bite and relaxed a bit. “And falling asleep beside you. I’m not going out until later. The second shift, tonight. So we have plenty of time.”
Her hands slammed on the table. “Damnit, Hantle!” He immediately realized his stupidity. She took a deep breath and recovered her composure a degree. “Look, I’m proud of you for helping that man out. For joining the watch last night. I am.” Her hands went to her lap. “But can’t someone else do it tonight? There are plenty of good people in Founsel. Can’t they function without you for one single night?”
He had expected that his success in keeping the wolf away would make her see just how much he had been right to join the watch—even though she did not like the idea—and how it would be right to do so again. Evidently, that was not what she felt.
“I am so alone, Hantle.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I need you most of all, and I’ve hardly seen you. Can’t a wife rely on her husband?”
“Of course she can. But I’m only one man. I’m trying to keep the peace with you and keep Founsel safe.”
“Wow.” She huffed. “Trying to keep the fucking peace with me? Is that all I’m worth?”
She was not hearing it how he meant it. “I’d give my life for you, Lorenca. That’s what I’m out there doing. Last night. Today. And tonight. Risking my life for you.”
She shoved the chair back and stood, shouting through her tears, “That’s not what I want, Hantle! I don’t need you dead. I need you here”—she jabbed a finger at the floor—“I need you with me.”
His jaw opened but no words came out. This was impossible. Instead, he got up and moved to hug her.
She backed away until she hit the wall, and when he put his arms around her, she started slapping him. “Get off.” He went for it anyway and she pushed him away, using the wall for leverage. “Get off!” Furious tears were streaking down her face. “I don’t mean for one damn hour, which is exactly what you’re thinking is perfectly fine.”
He threw his hands up. “Okay,” he conceded. “Okay. You’ve got me for the entire night. Not for an hour or two. For the entire night. It’s no good going out there if it means losing you.”
She sniffled and shifted her weight. “You promise?” He saw that mixture of disbelief and hope again. Another misspoken sentence risked snuffing out the hope completely.
“Yes.” He took a small step forward, seeing what her reaction would be. “I promise.” When she didn’t recoil, he took another step, and another, until she was in his arms. “I’m here with you.” He felt her tension lessen, slowly, until she returned the hug.
“You better not be lying,” she said. It was a threat as much as a plea.
CHAPTER NINE
THE SMELL of the flock carried for miles on the wind and lured the wolf from his shelter even before the storm began. He had ended the prior night full of flesh and sated but now felt as if he had not eaten in weeks. He tracked the sheep through the woodlands at a run and his shoulders scraped the lower boughs of many trees. When he neared the flock, he slowed to dampen the sound of his steps and to breathe deep of the scents thick in the air. The dogs he knew already; they had run off when he took the loudest one and shook her to silence. But who was the man with them? Had he been in the fields too? No matter, he would take them all tonight.
The downpour had tapered to a drizzle by the time he struck. He sprinted out of the trees bordering the road and had the ma
n in his jaws before he could reach for his weapon. It clattered to the ground and his dogs barked while the sheep bleated and ran. The wolf enjoyed the man’s screams, but after a second his greed could not be suppressed. On their own, his teeth sawed through the trunk and blood pooled on the ground, quickly followed by drool brought on by the taste of meat.
He zealously hunted down the dogs and sheep. Their death was immediate, unstoppable, but he did not swallow a one of them down just yet. Instead, he piled all the bodies on the road. Silence settled over the area when the last of them was stacked. Out of the corpses ran blood that he lapped up with a black-and-pink tongue. He backed away, wanting to appreciate the scene before devouring it. Yes, the night had provided. What a feeling of complete control and unadulterated ability, with sun gone and moon yet to come. None could withstand or outrun. He started into the pile, snapping bones and downing the tender muscle. The feast elated him. Nor would he be run off tonight. That village was not far away. Oughtn’t he challenge them to use their weapons again? Of course, they could not do a thing to him in the darkness. It was his. And any of their lights could be put out. Why, he could swallow their lights as easily as he could swallow them. He would show them.
Sounds of gunfire woke Hantle from a fitful sleep and drew him to the bedroom window. Through the rain spots, he saw three guards retreat, shouting for Shec and Crahul to join them. Then the wolf appeared, dragging eddies of smoke behind it, and slid to a stop on the wet street. It clamped its jaws on the midriff of a woman. The wolf changed its bite to the neck, replacing her cry with a snap that resonated on the air. In a few more chomps and rips, she was devoured. Gore spread from the matted fur of its throat to mottle the rest of its pelt a blood-black.
“What is it?” Lorenca asked from the bed.
