by A. J. Cronin
The tramping of hooves. Loud neighing.
Growls.
Barks.
Alastor’s eyes open with a jolt to find wolves the size of his horse attacking, tearing at the stallion. One wolf leaps at Alastor, but he moves just in time, unsheathing his sword in one swift motion. The leaping wolf slams into the cave wall, falling dazed to the ground. Alastor thrusts his sword into the wolf’s head, killing it.
Three more remain, attacking the stallion.
Alastor takes one by the scruff, killing it the same as the first, gaining him the rancor of the two surviving. The dire wolves both leap in unison as if of one mind. They tackle Alastor, knocking the weapon from his hand. One wolf bites at Alastor’s arm, but the armor holds unyielding. The other tries to go for the Knight’s throat, but Alastor punches and claws at the wolf’s eyes, forcing it to retreat with a yelp.
Alastor reclaims his sword with his free hand and thrusts it repeatedly into the wolf still gnawing on his arm. The final wolf springs back on Alastor, catching him off guard, trying again to go for the throat. Alastor drops his sword, holding the jaw and snout of the wolf within a hair’s breadth, its breath smelling of the grave. The weight of the wolf pressing full on Alastor’s chest keeps air from filling his lungs. The teeth of the horrible beast brush against his face, ready to clamp down. Annoyed and angered, the Knight’s strength surges. He pushes the wolf away and begins to widen its mouth, culminating in a loud snap, signaling the break of the animal’s jaw.
The dire wolf bolts away in defeat, unable even to yelp, soon lost in the falling white haze of snow.
The Knight sways his attention to his stallion, but it is too late. The faithful animal is, sadly, no more. Fallen while protecting its rider. The feeling of loss once more takes its place in Alastor’s heart as yet another loved one is taken.
“This cave shall be your tomb,” he whispers into the stallion’s ear, then taking the dead wolves and throwing them out to the elements like they were filthy rags.
After retrieving his sword, the Knight stands at the mouth of the cave, stoic in his memorial while a blizzard builds around him. Gazing down at the sword in his hand, an interesting flash of inspiration comes to mind.
“I suppose that makes you Wolfkiller,” he says to his weapon with a sullen grin.
With a final grunt, Alastor sets his back to the scene hesitantly, making his way on foot into the great unknown, wrapped in his cloak, strength of will drastically lessened by the parting of one of his best friends. Doubt, previously part of his old life, makes an all too abrupt reappearance while he walks on.
“I stand ready, Fate. Unlike before, I wholly embrace what lay ahead. ”
~-~~-~
Now half a year into her reign, Lisa comes to loathe the mundane repetition of the day to day ruling of Essain. Spending hours negotiating trade agreements, seeing that the kingdom law is enforced, dealing with disputes between citizens.
Marriage proposals.
You would never think that only months ago the city was bursting with life during a celebration which was all too soon forgotten. All this takes its toll on the young Queen. A longing for the days of adventure festers in her mind, kept under forced bondage lest she commit some action unbefitting of her position.
In Lisa’s all too brief times of peace and solitude, she has taken to keeping a diary, detailing even the darkest desires of her heart, every detail of her life. At the end of yet another day filled with a near mirror image of the last, she sits to write when she is suddenly interrupted by Edna.
“Any news of Alastor?” Lisa asks, hoping that to be the reason for the interruption.
“No,” Edna says as though she too is disappointed by this lack. “I have traveled to his keep many times, and all that changes is the growing thickness of dust that covers every part of it.”
Lisa has grown accustomed to not hearing any information on Alastor’s travels.
“Then why are you here?” she asks Edna, somewhat shortly.
“I had a question regarding where Alastor went.”
“I already told you that all he said to me was of seeking out the Scyld to the northwest to look for someone that might become a friend. He was quite disinclined to tell me more than that much.”
“Why?”
“Well, before telling me where he was going, he said that the less I know, the safer I would be. But, again, I already told you this.”
“Oh, I know. That is my point, well, that part about Alastor saying you were safer not knowing.”
“You are talking in circles, Morrigan.”
“It is not like Alastor to just wantonly hint at things, is it?”
“I do not follow.”
“When he thinks something is dangerous, he keeps it hidden, correct? Lucius, namely, but even his own identity he hid from you for a time.”
“But in those cases he did try to tell me, in a roundabout way. I was just too simple to understand.”
“Exactly!”
“I take offense to that!”
“No, not about you being simple, I mean... why would he outright tell you where he is going, but do so after telling you that knowing too much is a danger?”
“He would never do that, now that I think about it.”
“Knowing his aim in this trek is powerful knowledge in itself.”
Lisa’s mind begins to piece Edna’s ranting together.
“So, there is more behind what he said?” she asks Edna.
“I believe so. I think he may have been giving you yet another clue, a clue not to the past as before, but what will happen in the times to come.”
Lisa leans back in her chair, thinking on this all the while unknowingly imitating the way Alastor would sit.
“He was surprised when I told him that I knew about the Scyld,” the Queen muses.
“And why would that be unless he intended that bit of information to carry a deeper meaning?”
“Except all of this goes against what he said, that to know too much is dangerous.”
“Ah, true, except Alastor knew very well the drastic difference between knowledge and wisdom, Your Highness.”
“And what Alastor wants me to gain wisdom in involves the Scyld somehow.”
“In all probability, yes.”
“And what that may be would be hidden, or at least of the sort that it would be ignored and have fallen into obscurity.”
“My assumption exactly.”
Lisa debates internally, glancing at her diary.
“Tomorrow, can you go to Mikha’el and ask him to see me as soon as he can?”
“I will.”
Edna departs with a proud grin, leaving Lisa to ponder what Alastor had actually been up to, and what he has planned. Lisa does not add this new development to her diary, instead retiring to bed for the night.
The following morning, Lisa gives control of the day’s duties to her new Citizen’s Council, formed in response to the chaos of the night rebellion, while she delves deep into Essain’s library. By the late afternoon, she has gathered a small but decent collection of books, letters and scrolls that have even the faintest of references to the Scyld. Edna eventually enters the library, bringing with her Mikha’el.
“My Lady wished to see me?” Mikha’el asks as Edna leaves.
“Yes,” Lisa answers, sounding regal despite her dust covered appearance. “I was curious if your people by chance had a library of any sort?”
“My Lady,” Mikha’el says with a slight laugh, “my people were the keepers of the Valachian library. When we were exiled, we were forced to abandon it. After Cain was defeated, it is said that Leon gave the entire collection to us as a means of apology to Uri’el and Shira.”
“Really? How large of a collection is it?”
Mikha’el cannot suppress a louder laugh.
“Do you really not know of the Valachian library?”
“No...”
“Well, My Lady, it would take a structure some twice the size of your fair castle
to hold it.”
“How can that be? Your village had no such building.”
“You stayed in but one cottage. The library was underground at one time, but after Eoin’s death, Alastor asked us to hide it somewhere more secure.”
“Why?”
“It contained numerable tomes which he thought might be too dangerous in the wrong hands, but far too valuable to destroy.”
A light seems to illuminate Lisa’s face.
“I think Alastor intends for us to use this library, Mikha’el.”
“My Lady?”
“What do you know about the Scyld?”
“Beyond that they exist? Nothing.”
“I guessed as much. If it is at all possible, I would like to look through the Valachian library for information on the Scyld.”
“That can easily be arranged, but what have the Scyld to do with Alastor?”
“It was to them that he traveled, but there is more to it, I believe.”
Mikha’el thinks for a moment, rubbing his chin.
“When would you like to visit the library, My Lady?”
“As soon as possible! I do not wish to remain idle here any longer.”
“Very well. I shall go make the necessary preparations. I will come back to you when all is set.”
“Thank you, Mikha’el.”
“Thank me not. As it concerns Alastor, it concerns Samael, and as our Knight said, we must remain vigilant.”
Mikha’el, as is his custom, bows and leaves. Lisa, tired from her work, now has a palpable feeling of success. The day ends on a higher note than last, her nightly duty of diary writing letting her chronicle this new task proper. When she has finished, she goes to sleep, finding a dream unlike any before it.
Epilogue
The Last Dream
Lisa is in an ancient underground temple.
Pillars fallen.
Wall carvings faded beyond recognition.
She is not herself, but a bodiless specter, an observer.
In this temple, she finds a scene that makes her heart heavy with dread.
A black dragon lies, defeated, on the ground. Beaten and bloodied, but still alive. Looming over it, a red dragon stands victorious. Standing beside the red dragon, a skeleton wearing black robes. The skeleton holds in its claw-like hands two marionettes, their strings cut. In the right hand, a female puppet, and in the left a male. Though motionless, the eyes of the puppets blink and cry while beholding the fallen black dragon.
The red one roars triumphantly while the robed skeleton cackles madly. Lisa tries to shout, to call out to the black dragon, be she has no voice here. She can only watch what occurs next.
The red dragon pulls its head back and strikes, ripping at the throat of the black dragon, killing it. The roaring and the laughing grow louder and louder, darker and more insidious.
Even in her dream, Lisa weeps uncontrollably.
~-~~-~
The Legacy Will Continue…
