Red Season Rising

by D. M. Murray

  “I’m from Apula.”

  Arrlun blew out a long whistle, his brows rising high above his eyes. “Aye, well, you’ll have seen them alright. Every bloody year. Every bloody skirmish season.”

  “Bloody is right,” Thaskil mumbled, rolling a stone about in the dirt under the toe of his boot.

  There were a few long moments of silence before Arrlun spoke again, “So, it if it wasn’t Solansian, what breed of sword have they bought in this time?”

  “Look, I wish I could tell you. I really do. But the captains have me sworn not to say a thing.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the gritty feeling with his finger and thumb, chasing away the tiredness.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to press. Just curious, s’all.”

  “Aye.” Thaskil nodded to his companion, and closed his eyes. Again, he saw those blazing, wild eyes. He shook away the thought and tried to distract himself. He looked across at his large comrade. “So, you’re from far up in the North then?”

  “How did you know that? You watch me taking a piss and see my massive prick?”

  “No,” Thaskil replied, a smile drawing on his lips. “I can see you don’t shiver much, so you mustn’t be as cold as the rest of us warm-bloods. I’m guessing anyone who’s not as cold as me must be used to weather like this. And that, well, that must mean you’re from the top of the world.” Thaskil absently scratched at his bearding chin. “Ultima North.”

  Arrlun rumbled a laugh. “There’s the no shivering, alright, and that they breed us large up there. Large in the prick. Hard to miss, we lot.” He chuckled once more. “But you’re right enough. Captain Broden and I share a common ability to withstand the cold.” The big lad picked up a handful of snow and rolled it into a smooth ball between his two broad hands before tossing it into the blackness. “I’m from Gerloup. You’d be amazed by the winters we get.”

  “Heard the sea freezes over.”

  “Aye, the sea, and everything else. You know in Gerloup you can’t smell the sea for if it isn’t frozen, it is just too damn cold. Don’t know if it’s because the cold affects the smell of it, or if it is just that our noses are too cold to work. That’s why I love it down here. Everything tastes and smells sweeter—”

  A deep howl broke through Arrlun’s words.

  Thaskil felt his throat tighten with fear.

  “Wolf,” Arrlun hissed.

  “Mountain wolf,” a voice from behind them said, gritty and slow.

  Thaskil turned to see Kalfinar standing over his shoulder. He hadn’t heard his approach.

  “It’s alright. It’s not close.” The captain turned and headed back into the cave, walking through the passage towards the central fire. “Your watch is over, lads. Sit and warm yourselves by the fire a while.” He beckoned for the two soldiers to join him as he threw more dried logs onto the blaze, sending a shower of sparks and embers out above the flames, bringing it back to life.

  Thaskil didn’t hesitate, and made his way towards the safety of the fire’s glow. “It’s nice to get the blood flowing in my hands again.”

  “What’s the difference, Captain, sir?” Arrlun asked.

  “Between what?”

  “Wolves and mountain wolves.”

  “I forget how different things are by the coast, lad. Mountain wolves are much larger than their lowland cousins, by a factor of four, or so. And they are solitary beasts, whereas the lowland wolf is a pack animal.”

  “It sounded near, Captain, sir.”

  Thaskil regarded Kalfinar in the firelight. Perspiration beaded the captain’s brow and his tied-back hair shone with wetness.

  “Captain, sir,” Kalfinar repeated Arrlun’s words. “How very formal indeed.” He smiled weakly. “Don’t worry. The call of the mountain wolf will carry far when the wind drops. If the storm was still blowing hard, you’d have heard nothing. Believe me. If it were closer, you’d know all about it. Ask Broden.” Kalfinar glanced over his injured shoulder to where his cousin lay facing the wall of the cave. “I know you’re not asleep, Broden.”

  The big man rolled over to face the three men hunched by the fire. His brows flexed. “I was asleep until I heard that. Damn near shit myself. Every time I hear one, even when I’m in the keep, it makes the blood stiffen within me.” Broden sat up. “About ten years ago, about the time Kalfinar and I were made captains for the first time, we had a rather intimate encounter with one of those bastards. Near ripped me to meat before Kal and another finished it.”

  Broden rolled up his thick winter tunic. Thaskil gasped as he saw long and ragged purple scars. They were puckered on Broden’s side and ribs, clearly visible despite the thick mat of red hair above them.

  “Luckily, I’ve a bit of extra to me,” Broden said. “Even so, I don’t want another run in, so build that fire high and I suggest that everyone wears their double mail shirts. And wake Petran and Rallik for their watch, Dajda knows how they slept through that.”

  *

  Kalfinar waited until Thaskil and Arrlun moved to wake the other cadets. When he was sure they were out of earshot, he leaned in beside Broden’s ear. “That wolf is closer than I said.”

  “I know.”

  Kalfinar glanced towards the others before continuing. “Petran’s horse is injured. I’ve just checked it. It’s taken an ugly gash on the hind left fetlock.”

  Broden’s jaw clenched as he glanced over towards the horse.

  “Can’t have it attracting a wolf,” Kalfinar said.

  “We can hardly set it loose, or kill it, can we? We need all the horses, even if it’s injured.”

  “You’re willing to risk it? You of all people?”

  “Damn it, Kal. You know we need it. We’ll just have to keep an eye on it so it doesn’t fester.”

  “Aye,” Kalfinar grumbled as he looked over his shoulder to the horse. “A close bloody eye.”

  *

  The sun rose into a clear sky, dead calm and bright. Kalfinar sucked a long draw of icy mountain air in through his nose. They broke camp and set off, eager to make up for lost time.

  “How’s that seaweed working out for you, Kal?” Broden asked his cousin.

  “Why don’t you try it and find out.” He looked humourlessly at his large comrade. “It works, well enough, s’pose.” Nudging his mount’s flanks, he trotted out at the head of the group.

  Trying to figure out the meaning of his recurring nightmares was useless. He could not help but sense that as the dream progressed, he was being attacked and overwhelmed by something of incredible malevolence. The two figures in his dream had left him confused and frightened. Shouldn’t read too much into it. Nothing but dreams. Or my damn rotting mind unravelling.

  He decided to push it to the depths once more. He turned his horse and rode back to his cousin, noting to himself with mild amusement how the big man looked with his large red beard sticking out of the top of his thickly lined coat.

  “Sorry to be short. I’m foul-tempered this morning. I didn’t sleep well. Bad dreams, you know.”

  “It’s alright. I’d be in poor form if some blue-skinned, flame-eyed monster just cut me to meat, too!” The morning was still, and the words carried easily in the cool air.

  Kalfinar leaned in towards his cousin as they reined in, their horses coming to a standstill. “Damn it.”

  At the same time, they turned in their saddles, their heads creeping around towards their small troop of men. Arrlun and Rallik sat astride their horses with brows furrowed, suspicion etched across their faces. Petran rode a short distance behind them and appeared oblivious. Thaskil, however, shook his head in disbelief at Broden’s slip.

  “Fool!” Kalfinar spat the word before turning his horse. “It appears now we have some things to discuss with our young companions. Petran, get back into the squad,” Kalfinar shouted towards the young soldier at the rear. Damn horse. He cast a knowing glance to Broden, who nodded subtly.

  “Men, I’m guessing by the look on your faces you heard Captain Broden. Well, let’s k
eep this short. The two assassins that attacked at Hardalen weren’t Solansian, nor were they of the continent of the Cullanain. Their nature is unknown to us still, and so we travel to deliver such a message, and try and learn some more. That's all. No questions.” He turned his horse, ignoring the gawping mouths and questions twitching on lips. Both he and Broden continued onwards before Kalfinar shouted back to the party, “And men, don’t think too much.” Looking back towards Broden, he snapped, “Like you.”

  *

  The sun set early. The scarlet stain spreading over the sky was an omen ill received by Kalfinar. “Broden, you have the trail map, don’t you?” he asked when they reigned in their panting horses. His cousin reached inside his fleece-lined coat and pulled out the rolled parchment.

  “Here, catch.” He tossed the map over the heads of the four soldiers.

  Reaching with his good arm, Kalfinar caught the map. “Reckon we’re close to another of the caves. We’d do well to rest up there tonight. Think we may have some poor weather coming.” In truth, the storm appeared to have broken and much of the snow was melting away.

  Tracing his finger over the aged map and glancing at the surrounding geography, he assessed their position. “I make it about an hour’s riding from here. We’re only another day’s ride from Terna.” He rolled the map and tossed it back to Broden.

  “An hour seems about right to me. A little less if we ride hard, though the beasts have had a tough few days, Kal. We don’t want to walk the last day to Terna.” He patted the neck of his horse, before sliding the map back within his coat.

  “Let’s keep a steady pace until we’re there. Look out for a ridge with three columns rising from it. The cave is beneath it, according to the map.” He turned his horse and rode onwards, chasing the rays of the blood-red sun.

  *

  It was just over an hour before Arrlun reined in around a corner ahead of the group, the steam rising from his horse in the chill of the night. “The columns, Captain Kalfinar, sir!” he shouted back to the following group. “The cave’s just ahead.” He turned and looked towards the three columns at the top of a large rocky outcrop. There was just enough light remaining in the sky to cast a striking silhouette.

  “Good man. Now, let’s rest these beasts before they drop.” Broden placed a congratulatory slap on the young soldier’s shoulder, almost sending him flying from his saddle. “Oh, sorry. I forget my own strength.” He rumbled a low laugh and rode onwards to the cave.

  “Fall in behind Captain Broden, men. Single file up that path. Same drill as the other night.” Only more damn careful this time.

  Kalfinar fell in behind the men. He rubbed his shoulder. It had been hard riding and it had taken its toll. But despite the constant aching, he felt as though his grip was stronger. They made their way into the cave and found it too was carved around from the entrance to reveal an open, circular hollow. There was a fire pit in the centre, surrounded by rough beds and straw.

  “Home, sweet home, lads.” Broden’s delight at taking shelter in another cave was clear. “Best get some water for the horses. Petran, Thaskil, the river runs at bottom of the trees beneath the cave. Take the horses down and water them. They’ll be needing it.”

  “Yes, sir,” the two young soldiers replied and set off.

  Kalfinar watched as the two troops headed off with the horses. “Arrlun, take one of those spears by the wall and go with them. Keep a watch. Take Rallik, too.”

  Broden glanced to his cousin as the fire’s glow began to spread throughout the cave. The burly lad grabbed one of the spears and assessed its strength and weight. He selected several others before finally settling on one and tossing Rallik another. “You think we’re being tracked?” Broden asked, once the others were out of hearing range.

  “Just being careful. I don’t mean to unsettle you.” He approached Petran’s horse as he spoke, indicating that Broden should follow him. “You know better than anyone the dangers.”

  “Aye, I remember all too well. Maybe I just didn’t want to think about it.”

  “Doesn’t make it go away.”

  “True.”

  “Here. Take a look.” Kalfinar knelt down by the horse, muttering soothing sounds to the twitching beast as he reached out to touch its left hind leg. With his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed the darkening, sticky wound, pressing out a stream of stinking brown discharge. He moved his nose closer and sniffed. His face was grim as he leaned back. “Festered.”

  “Shit! It turned bad quick.”

  “Aye. Its piss will reek of it. No point doubting it, there’s a fair chance we’re being tracked.”

  Broden grimaced. “Damn it.” He pushed off his knees and stood with his hands on his hips. “What do you think we should do?”

  “It’s too late to turn it away from the cave.” Kalfinar winced as he too stood. “And in any case, unless she was led away and tethered elsewhere, she’d just come back. The scent will be all over this area now.”

  “We’ll just have to make sure the lads stay alert. We’ve only one day left. If we can get through the night the horse should be able to carry on until Terna.” Broden scratched absently at the spot of his old scars.

  Kalfinar held Broden’s gaze for a moment as he settled on his decision. “So be it. Fire high and spears low.”

  “Aye, fire high and spears low.”

  *

  Kalfinar woke, breaking free from the dark dreaming. He noticed the fire had burned low. The men on watch had not been keeping it high as instructed. He rose, his fury pricking at him, and placed several dried logs on the fire before catching the hiss of hushed words from the front of the cave mouth.

  “Did you hear that?” he heard Petran whisper.

  Rallik answered in the darkness, “Didn’t hear nothing.”

  Kalfinar could just about make out their words as he moved towards the cave entrance. He heard stones tumbling onto the ground in front of the cave.

  “What’s that?” Rallik's voice sounded as Kalfinar heard a stream of pebbles landing in front of the cave entrance.

  Kalfinar’s heart raced. He drew his sword, discarding the scabbard, and quickened his advance.

  Rallik cried in surprise and sounded like he stumbled backwards, falling over.

  Kalfinar swapped his sword into his weak hand, nearly dropping it, and grabbed a spear in his right. “Broden!” he shouted as hurried towards the cave mouth. Approaching, he heard laughter from the two soldiers. “What is it?”

  “Captain,” Rallik said as he turned to meet Kalfinar, “it’s just a rock grouse. It must have slipped from its nest above the cave, sir. I think it looks as shocked as we were.”

  As Kalfinar approached the two young men, he saw the grouse standing with a stunned look upon its face. The dozy bird’s feathers were ruffled in shock.

  “Very well,” he muttered to the young soldiers with no small degree of relief. “Stay further into the cave men. I’ll keep the fire burning high, seeing as you obviously can’t be trusted to follow simple fucking orders. It’d almost died when I awoke.” Kalfinar snapped off his words, then turned and moved back towards the cave centre.

  Broden approached with spear in hand. Thaskil and Arrlun stood by him. The young soldiers were armed and ready.

  “What is it?” Broden asked as he approached.

  “Nothing. A bloody rock grouse fell out of its nest asleep. Gave the lads a fright, that’s all.” He rolled his sore shoulder and moved into the heart of the cave.

  Broden laughed, turning and walking back into the cave. “Ought to tell them to catch it. They’re delicious, especially served with—”

  A high-pitched scream flooded into the cave chamber, cutting Broden off as it reverberated around the walls. Kalfinar sprinted towards the cave mouth. The rest of the troop followed with spears lowered.

  Kalfinar skidded in the dust and gravel at the mouth of the cave. A giant mountain wolf stood before him. It was over half the size of a horse. The wolf ravaged Rallik
as he weakly swung his fists at its snarling, tearing maw. Rallik’s scream cut off abruptly as he succumbed.

  The beast released the lifeless body from its blood-drenched jaws and turned towards Petran, snapping its teeth. Petran ducked under its attack and stepped to the side, running his spear between its ribs and punching through the other side. Too deep. Howling, the wolf recoiled. Its movements yanked the spear from Petran’s hands before it snapped at the unarmed soldier, nearly tearing free his head and sending forth a fountain of blood. Petran’s body slumped into the wall at the cave mouth, as blood welled.

  The horror only lasted seconds before Kalfinar and the remainder of the troop fell upon the wounded beast. Their spears pierced the mountain wolf’s body repeatedly until it slumped onto the cave floor, paws sweeping at the dust. The beast’s tongue lolled from between gleaming teeth as its rib cage rose and fell, then rose no more.

  Kalfinar’s head dropped and he heaved a long and weary sigh. “Fuck.”

  *

  Kalfinar felt no pulse from Rallik. He stood from the corpse and looked where Petran lay slumped. The young man’s skin was chalk white, his life-blood having rushed from the ugly rent.

  “On your feet, men. Retrieve your weapons and get them clean,” Broden said. Both Arrlun and Thaskil were hunkered on the ground, their eyes cast off in the distance. “Shake the shock from you. Blood is your life, and Dajda knows you’ll see much more of it if you stay the course.” Broden strode over and hauled Thaskil up to his feet.

  Arrlun rose and hauled his spear from the creature’s chest. “Dajda!” he exclaimed. “It was so quick.”

  “Should’ve kept the fire high,” Kalfinar mumbled.

  “Kal,” Broden said, stepping closer and handing him a spear, “we need to get that horse slaughtered. There’s no telling if other wolves have caught the scent. We can’t risk any other attacks.”