Elaine draped the web over one arm, pulled the wardrobe away from the door, and crept quietly down the stairs.
* * * *
He found her almost by accident, after five days of hard riding, when he took his horse to the river to drink. The little wooden rowboat had drifted onto the banks, just within the city borders; she lay in it so pale and silent he knew she was dead. An ugly, gaudy blanket was wrapped around her, and her lips were curved in a smile.
Lancelot fought against irrational tears. He had only spoken to her twice, after all. He had taken an interest in her, but she hadn't been his responsibility. It had been chivalrous but foolish to concern himself with a girl he hardly knew, and it wasn't his fault he had failed to protect her from her father. Or the faeries. Or herself.
The sword was heavy on his back, reminding him of his true mission: to make sure Arthur's kingdom would last forever. After Excalibur was delivered, he could return and make sure the girl was properly buried.
It's a shame, he thought, looking at her still face. She would have been a real beauty when she grew up.
Then he swung back onto his horse and rode into Camelot.
Wolf Maiden
by Linda L. Donahue
Another animal popular in fantasy is the wolf. They also appear in other genres such as mystery and romance. Sometimes I think if I see one more romance novel where the hero is a werewolf I'm going to throw it across the room. I lived with a dog who was a wolf/malamute/shepherd mix, and she was a wonderful companion, but she shed enough hair each week to make a duplicate of her. (It's a good thing we had hardwood floors; we would never have gotten all the fur out of carpeting.) But there are wolves, and then there are Wolves.
Linda Donahue, an Air Force brat, spent much of her childhood traveling. For 18 years, she taught computer science, mathematics, and aviation. She's earned a pilot's certification, a SCUBA certification, and a driver's license. As such, she has been a threat by land, air, and sea. When not writing, she teaches tai chi and belly dancing. Linda's stories can be found in various anthologies. She also coauthored a story with Mike Resnick for Future Americas. In non-fiction, her article on rabbit chiropractics appears in the 2007 Rabbits USA annual. She and her husband live in Texas and keep rabbits, sugar gliders and a cat for pets. Though she had once had a long-haired German Shepherd that looked like a wolf, she's never kept a wolf as a pet.
#
Asdis carried the ale-horn reverently, without losing a drop of froth. Tonight Wolf's Head village celebrated a new alliance. The fair Ilsa had married Dreng, son of a powerful jarl from an affluent village. For a bride price, Dreng had promised a dozen warriors to defend the village.
Yet a dozen dozen wouldn't replace the men killed or captured by sea ogres. Whenever the wind howled, they came in hordes aboard ships of human bones.
Asdis carried the ale, remembering the dead. Among the wolf pelts covering the longhouse's walls hung the helmets of those who had died defending the village. So their ghosts might enjoy the celebration, Asdis poured ale over their helms.
She had lost her father and three brothers to the ogres. Of the youngest, Ulfar, nothing had ever been found. For him, she poured ale on the wooden planks.
Onund grabbed the ale-horn. Drink had given him a complexion to match his bright red beard. "What are you thinking, Wolf Maiden? That's no way to treat Storr's good ale!"
With the men of her family all dead, Asdis and her mother lived in the longhouse. They'd come to be known as Wolf Maiden and Wolf Matron.
"It's for Ulfar," Asdis explained.
Onund sobered and handed back the horn. "Though unseasoned, he was a good man. May his death have been honorable." He wiped his mouth against the back of his three-fingered hand, the thumb and forefinger bit off by an ogre.
"I heard you compliment my ale," Storr said, stroking his braided, blond beard.
"I was lying. It's worse than ox-piss."
Laughing, Storr dragged Onund away for a game of axe throwing.
Asdis considered grabbing an axe and showing them she could throw just as well. Out of necessity women had taken over many a man's chore. Asdis, stoutly built and strong as an ox, had hands better suited to chopping firewood than embroidery. She took on the longhouse's heavy chores while her mother cooked and cleaned.
Storr waved an arm. "Eh, Wolf Maiden? What about you? Care to wager your skills?"
His offer brought a smile, her first since the last storm. Asdis strode towards them until noticing the stranger.
She'd first spotted him after she and her mother had moved into the longhouse. She never knew when he would appear, but every now and again he sat quietly in the corner, eating and drinking his fill. No one but her ever paid him any mind.
"Wolf Maiden? You coming, woman, or aren't you?" Onund called.
Asdis tried not to stare overtly. She waved at Storr and Onund. "Another time." She forced a merry laugh and added, "It wouldn't be a fair contest until I've caught up to you in ale!"
"There's a sensible-speaking woman," Storr said. "Have three and we'll call it even!"
"You've had six," Asdis's mother said, pouring him a seventh.
The stranger's smooth and pretty face made him seem harmless. So perhaps no one cared to notice him.
"Seeing as your daughter's a woman, three should be fair," Storr argued.
"I won't argue my daughter's gender but she's easily a stone heavier than you and on her it's all muscle!" Asdis's mother jabbed Storr's soft gut with her finger.
"You foul-tongued she-wolf, how you wound me." Storr staggered, feigning insult. With six ales sloshing inside him, his staggers were quite authentic. And he managed not to spill a drop of ale.
"Play your game," Asdis said. "I'll challenge the winner."
In the meanwhile, she filled her ale-horn and pretended to drink while gazing over the rim at the pretty stranger.
Never had he boasted with the men or competed in axe throwing. He caused no fights and joined none—not even wrestling matches. No wonder no one noticed him.
The longhouse door opened. Old Vorbrynja entered. A gust seemed to carry her old bones across the floor more so than the strength of her skinny legs. She sat at the wedding table and took Ilsa's and Dreng's hands.
The longhouse fell silent and still. Ale-horns remained in tight grips. No more sounds of an axe splintering wood as it struck a post. Not even whispers disturbed the smoky air.
Vorbrynja threw back her white mane of hair and announced, "They shall have nine strong children! Three daughters and six sons."
The parents of the newlyweds roared with approval and offered toasts to their new kinsman. The merriment resumed, and Storr, even with one half-blind eye, won the match against three-fingered Onund... as expected.
Vorbrynja laid a hand on Asdis's arm. "The Wolf Maiden shall save the village with her cubs. When he without a tongue leaves, follow him."
Before Asdis could ask why the Norn seer would shape such a fate for her, Vorbrynja had been spirited away as if carried off by a breeze. One moment Asdis stared into Vorbrynja's cloudy eyes. The next, she stared at the Norn seer's back.
Seers, truly weavers of fate, were chosen by Norns to become Norns themselves. As they aged they grew more powerful until they were no longer mortal, but goddesses.
Saving the village was good... yet Asdis had no cubs. She raised no animals whatsoever. If 'cubs' were meant to imply children because she was called 'Wolf Maiden,' then first she needed to marry. Given the lack of prospects, that seemed an unlikely fate for a Norn seer to shape.
As for the man without a tongue... Asdis glanced at the quiet stranger. Was that the reason for his silence?
He raised his ale-horn to her then stood, leaving his place neat, as always. He headed for the side door where Asdis carried in firewood. Never before had she seen him leave. Nor had she ever seen him enter. He was simply there.
Asdis ran outside and followed him into the forest.
Though he didn't walk fas
t, she couldn't catch up. She lengthened her stride. Though his appeared unchanged, the distance between them remained constant. She hurried her steps. Again, he walked at the same rate, and still she grew no closer.
Until suddenly she was beside him. She stopped abruptly, startled and disorientated.
"From here," he said, "the way is mist and rainbows."
So he did have a tongue. Perhaps Old Vorbrynja's words weren't meant to be taken literally.
"Will you walk with me? I wish to show you something."
She'd been told to follow him, so nodding, she stepped with him into the dense fog.
They walked in silence. Tiny rainbows danced within the mist like faerie-lights.
Though she spoke softly, her words reverberated loudly. "Who are you?"
"Forseti."
The god of justice. Had he ever behaved like a mortal man, she might have thought him merely named after the god. "Have I offended the gods?"
Forseti pointed towards a clearing in the mist. A full moon lit the glen, though Asdis was certain the moon was in quarter phase. In traversing the misty trail, they had left the world. It was the only possible explanation.
A pitiful, mangy dog was tied to a stake.
"Will you feed and care for him?" Forseti asked.
"If you wish." Asdis approached the poor animal.
The dog snarled and snapped. His ribs showed through his matted, thinning fur. He strained, pulling at his bonds, yet the flimsy cord bound him.
Forseti was gone.
"How do I get back and can I return on my own?" she called.
Forseti's gentle voice answered, "You know the way. Follow your feet."
Asdis knelt outside the dog's reach, hoping he would calm. So long starved, so long neglected, the dog was now beast, no longer possessing domestic qualities.
She returned through the mist, feeling the path with her feet, stepping where it 'felt' right. Suddenly she stood in the forest at the edge of the vanishing mist.
She ran to the longhouse, gathered a platter of venison, and ran back up the path. The mist reappeared.
Still the dog snarled. She set the platter on the ground and, using a stick, pushed it within reach. Squatting, she watched the malnourished beast eat. He devoured the meal then picked up the platter with his teeth and flung it outward.
* * * *
For a week, Asdis slipped away nightly to feed the mangy mutt. His fur grew in rapidly, and flesh filled out his bones. Still he snarled whenever she approached.
Two weeks passed. The dog was beautiful now, his coat thick and grey-black. His eyes, burning with wildness, glowed in the moonlight like yellow suns. His teeth gleamed white. But he was no friendlier.
She squatted, staring at the dog. "I mean you no harm."
"Then free me," the dog answered.
Asdis jumped and ran back through the mist.
The next night, for the first time, she didn't feed the dog. Dogs couldn't speak. Therefore, he was some monster, probably deserving of his fate. Yet she had agreed to care for him. But not tonight.
The next night, her debate continued. Then she saw Forseti sitting in his usual corner.
Asdis strode up boldly. "Why is the dog tied up?"
"Fenris is not my dog."
The god of wolves. The god to destroy other gods. So why did the god of justice wish health upon this unnatural creature? Why not let him suffer and starve? But she didn't ask. It wasn't wise to question a god's judgment.
Instead, her heart racing, she asked, "Am I to feed him forever?"
"Do what you believe is right." Forseti raised his empty ale-horn and vanished. "But the storm is coming fast."
Outside, the winds carried a howl, a warning that sea ogres were on the hunt. The wail's pitch told how many ships sailed, for the eerie sound came from wind rushing through skulls. It carried the moaning cries of warriors whose bodies had not been given the proper rites, warriors unable to move into the Halls of the Gods. From the sound, at least three ships traveled towards their shores.
Storr laid a hand on Asdis's shoulder. "They'll be landing soon. Best you and your mother go to my house. You can hide with my family."
"I can wield an axe as well as any man," she said.
Storr grinned broadly. "If my sons grow up to be half the man as you, Asdis, I'll be content."
"You need all the help you can get."
Onund joined them, shaking his head. "It's not in a woman's heart to battle. I'll have no arguments either, even if it is a woman's mind to start them. Chopping wood is easier than hacking off a limb. Wood doesn't fight back." He wiggled his mauled hand. "And it doesn't hunger for human flesh."
Asdis scoffed. "You think I fear for my beauty? I fear more we'll lose the best carpenter in the village."
Onund laughed heartily. "Have no fears for me. You can count on my return. After all, you still owe me a match."
Asdis grinned. "But Storr won the contest."
"Only because he cheated. He used all five of his fingers for gripping the handle."
"I didn't cheat!" Storr handed Onund an axe, adding, "I even used my left hand!"
"But you are left-handed," Onund roared.
They clasped arms and laughed, encouraging the land's spirits to fill their breasts with strength and to steady their hands.
"Go on, girl," Storr said. "My wife's expecting you."
"He's right, Asdis," her mother said, wrapping an arm around her. "I've lost my husband and sons. I'll not lose my daughter too."
A howl rattled the longhouse's timbers.
"Go with your mother, Asdis," Onund said, using her name, meaning he was serious. "If you are killed or taken, who will skin venison and fish or cut wood? The village would be lost without your help."
His words brought to mind those of the old seer, promising that Asdis would save Wolf's Head. But had she meant them the way Onund had?
"Come along, Asdis," her mother urged.
Storr pushed Asdis towards the door.
Wind whipped through her hair as she and her mother leaned into the gusts, heading towards Storr's home.
"I forgot something, mother. Go on ahead. I'll be right behind."
As the howls grew louder, fearful tears glistened in her mother's eyes. Then she nodded. "You are your father's daughter. I will pray to the gods that they do not take you from me as well."
Asdis ran behind the longhouse, grabbed the wood axe, then headed into the forest and mist.
The wolf Fenris sat waiting. "Where were you last night?"
Asdis raised her head, feeling the hairs on her neck prickle. "You're no dog."
"I never said I was. Why did you run?"
"I didn't expect you to speak."
"For that you let me starve a night? That seems hardly just. And you've brought no venison tonight either, but an axe. Do you think to kill me?"
"Are you hungry?"
"I could eat you."
Asdis shivered as if the surrounding mist were of ice crystals. "Is that just repayment for coming to free you?"
"True. It seems unfair, but I might nonetheless."
"Then I won't free you to feast on the most succulent meat you could ever taste."
Fenris's eyes narrowed. "What meat is that?"
"Sea ogre. Why else do you suppose my village hasn't moved when the ogres raid so frequently. Those we kill, we feast upon." None of this was true, but neither did she know for fact that sea ogres tasted bad.
Asdis cocked her head to appear thoughtful and uncertain. "I should leave you bound. It's for the best. If a cord can hold you, you'll fare poorly against ogres, and I would hate to see you harmed. Though you've shown me nothing but aggression, I've grown fond of you."
"Free me and I shall repay your kindness by ridding your village of sea ogres."
"Have I your solemn oath?"
"You do."
Asdis approached slowly. Instead of pulling against his bonds, snarling and baring fangs, Fenris sat patiently, deceptively doc
ile, she was sure.
Tentatively, she stepped across that 'line' that had always separated them, that distance which lay at the end of Fenris's leash. Yet the wolf god sat without a ripple to his lips.
Asdis raised the axe.
It felt suddenly lighter. The blade's golden gleam cast rainbows into the mist. Knowing the gods, or that Forseti approved, Asdis severed the cord.
The wolf swelled to four times his previous size.
"Your legs cannot keep up with me," Fenris said. "Ride upon me so we can save your village and I can snack on ogre flesh."
Asdis climbed astride, his back wider than an ox's.
Fenris ran hard. As he leapt over unseen obstacles, small branches tugged at Asdis's hair and the hem of her plain skirt.
Suddenly they were out of the mist and on the forest trail. Then Fenris stopped.
"The ogres come up from the sea," Asdis said, pointing.
The sounds of fighting, of screams and death's last cry rang out in the distance.
Fenris howled, the sound long and eerie. From all sides, howls answered in return. "My children will help. In return, you must swear an oath that no man, woman or child of your village will ever again hunt my children."
Asdis agreed, knowing she would force the men to honor her word if she had to beat them fair and square in hand-to-hand combat. The villagers could fish and hunt wild boars and deer. Bearskins were as thick and warm as wolf hides.
With one hand holding tight in the dense grey fur and her other gripping the golden axe, Asdis rode Fenris into battle. Scores of wolves trailed in their wake.
Ships made from human bones had run aground. Sea ogres, armed with tridents, daggers of barbed coral, and clubs embedded with shark teeth battled the villagers. Even disarmed, an ogre had sharp teeth, long claws and scaly hide stronger than armor.
Though Dreng had brought a dozen of the finest warriors from his village, already five lay dead, their heavy, ring mail rent as easily as a poor villager's coarse cloth shirt. Of the villagers, another twenty had been slain, including Wolf Head's jarl, Ilsa's father.
Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXIII Page 21
