Son of hell: Blood of wolves

by Michaela Burdová

  "You weren’t hallucinating, were you?"

  "I know what I saw! Then she disappeared."

  "It’s true, you did bring the head of the hunter."

  "You don’t believe me?" Neran growled. "I was injured. I couldn’t defeat them alone. I'm telling you, she was there."

  "I don´t understand why someone like that would bother to save your neck."

  They reached an alley of slender trees and fell to the ground exhausted. Gerrat grimaced with pain.

  "You stink like scorched rabbit," Neran said. Gerrat lay down in the cool grass, palms gently held together over his stomach.

  "I would like to have one," he muttered. "Or rather, a roasted human thigh, that would be a treat."

  "What about your principle of not hunting humans?" Neran sneered.

  "After today's events, I´ll make an exception."

  "I want to know more about them," Neran said after a while.

  "About humans?"

  "No. About darkwolves! We're of the same blood. Have you never wanted to know why they are different?"

  He thought about it for a while, then heard Gerrat snoring. He kicked him in the leg. Gerrat woke up with a fright.

  "Don‘t sleep yet," Neran snapped. "I want to find those darkwolves and find out why their leader saved my skin tonight. You're coming with me.As your elder brother, I command you."

  At that moment in time Neran had no inkling that it would be the worst decision of his life.

  Chapter 2

  Emissaries of the Devil

  Seven months later

  The human world was different from the realm of elves or dwarves. Most enchanted creatures went to the elves because their country was permeated by magic. Humans had almost forgotten about beauty and magic. They were chained by their own fear and no one could blame them. The cruelty of the darkwolves was mainly focused on humans, but it touched the lives of elves too. Someone claimed that they simply liked the taste of human flesh better. In their hearts and minds though, everyone knew the real reason - revenge. Humans had been killing werewolves for centuries, almost to the point of extinction.

  The darkwolves were avenging all their fallen brethren and the humans knew it. Neran knew it too and at one time admired the darkwolf pack for it. That was before he had learned to like humans. His curiosity about Aragen had finally turned into an obsession, an obsession he had come to regret. He now wished he had never known her and never sought out her pack.

  Now everything was different.

  The village of Nilvana was evidence of the human fear that prevailed. Gloom enclosed it and was soaked up by every last inch of the soil beneath it. Grief and fear had settled into the hearts of the villagers and was reflected in their worn faces. Everyone wore wrapped silver crosses around their necks on necklaces made of mandrake berries. Although silver would not kill a darkwolf, it was able to hurt them and slow them down. Mandrake also served to protect humans from the devil and his minions. People therefore also wore bracelets made from it and added it to their food, ointments, and medications.

  That day, the village was turned upside down. Neran sensed terror in every step. He was purposefully trying to avoid humans. Wrapped up in a dark hooded coat, he walked discreetly through the streets, observing, but minding his own business. The villagers were assembled in the square and passionately debating in front of their houses. The men carried axes, pickaxes, and pitchforks, while curious children crowded behind windows. Hardly a day had gone by without the darkwolves attacking a neighbouring village. Neran knew that the people in Nilvana were afraid that it was now their turn.

  He also knew that they were frightened without cause. The hunt was over. The darkwolves were satisfied and weary and would now rest before moving on to newer pastures. They never hunted in the same place twice. They loved it when their attack was unexpected. Rather, Aragen indulged in it.

  Neran´s animal senses enabled him to distinguish individual dialogues in the cacophony of voices and words. The men were arguing about who would stay on guard that night, discussing the invention of new traps and what the best means were to protect their families.

  Neran walked on. As he did so, he caught sight of Kalla standing in the midst of a crowd of agitated women.She was a tall, slender, middle-aged woman with her hair tightly pulled back in a knot. She had apparently been shopping, for at her elbow hung a basket laden with food. Neran was in a hurry. He sneaked past the main happening and walked down a small street to the other end of the village. This was his chance to have a quiet word with Talem because his wife was not at home.

  Talem’s cottage stood on the edge of the village, near the forest. The man was a woodcutter. Behind his house was a small barn in which Neran had slept a few times. He walked along a cleared path towards the door. He heard some muffled voices from behind the wall. Girls' voices. He remembered that the last time he had visited Talem he had been introduced to his two daughters.

  As he walked down the path he noticed how the tall spruces cast dark shadows over the cottage and how the wind pensively blew through their branches. Neran cautiously approached a window and looked in. He immediately felt the power of ancient incantations and symbols of protection. Silver too. He looked down to see a line of silver coins on the windowsill, there to protect the household against the Sons of Hell.

  A nearly grown-up girl stood at the sink washing dishes. A flood of golden curls fell over her shoulders. A girl of maybe fifteen years old sat at a table and played with her two-year old sister. From another room came the cries of another child. The father was nowhere to be seen.

  Then Neran smelled him, but only turned when spoken to.

  "Don’t try anything, or I'll chop off your damn head. Do you understand?" a raspy voice roared."Now turn around, very slowly!"

  Neran obeyed while the corners of his mouth twitched.The man had an axe in his hands and gripped it firmly and resolutely.Neran had no doubt that Talem would strike him in order to protect his family.Talem´s face was overgrown by a beard and his small beady eyes sparkled beneath bushy eyebrows.His arms were massive, resembling tree trunks, and the buttons of his shirt stretched over a huge belly.

  "Take off the hood so I can see your damn face!" Talem commanded."And tell me, what you are doing here?"

  Neran´s hood slipped off the top of his head and dropped to his shoulders.In the darkness it took Talem a while to recognize him.Neran too had grown a beard and with his tousled hair, looked like a savage.

  "I hope you don’t want to carve me up with your axe," Neran declared cheerfully. As it dawned on Talem who he was speaking to, he let his weapon fall to his side.

  "Neran? Is that you?"

  "I know. I am even more handsome that I was the last time we met."

  Talem took a step closer and embraced Neran, pulling him into his massive chest and slapping him so hard on the back that it would have broken a lesser mortal in two. "I thought I would never see you again!"

  "Well, I was passing by, so ..."

  Suddenly, Talem pushed him briskly away. "Damn! You picked the wrong time! Everyone is frightened after the attack on Zerana! They have a grudge against the wolf monsters and then you suddenly show up!"

  "Relax, no one will find out. I only want to stay for two days, if that."

  "The most important thing is that the old lady doesn´t find out."

  "I saw her on the village square. She´s like a little flower. Those graceful eyes can still throw lightning ..."

  "Cut it out," Talem grunted. "You can´t blame her for the fact that she can´t stand you.After all, you're a murderous beast."

  "Thanks."

  Talem gave him a probing look. "By the way, you look terrible."

  "Enough of your words of praise. I´ll blush otherwise. I need a bed."

  "Forget it," Talem's eyes widened. Do you want my old lady to kill me?"

  "Five years ago, you didn’t object."

  "I was still young and stupid."

  "Daaaddeee!"

&nbs
p; Talem grabbed Neran and quickly pushed him into the barn, then carefully peeked from behind its door. On the doorstep stood the girl of fifteen with her arms akimbo like a general. The girl was the image of her mother. "DAAADDEEE!"

  "Sally?" He guessed her name.

  "Sell," barked Talem.

  "Just like her Mum," Neran chuckled.

  Talem turned to him."What are you doing here anyway, Neran?"

  Neran glanced around the barn. Against the wall was a neat pile of wood. In the middle was a large chopping block with chopped logs scattered around its base. In the corner was a pen with a goat which stared at them with its large eyes. Next to it was a pile of sweet-smelling hay.

  "I came to visit," Neran replied innocently.

  "I see. And now the truth."

  "Fine. I am on my way to the Altar of Flowers."

  "What?" Talem´s eyes almost popped out of his head. "Are you crazy or what?"

  Neran shrugged his shoulders. "The dryad apparently knows all the answers."

  "Neran, what happened? Where is Gerrat?"

  "We parted for a while."

  "DAAADDEEE!"

  Talem grunted grumpily. He stuck his head out of the door and shouted: "What’s the problem honey?"

  "Lula’s got a splinter in her foot!"

  "So wait for Mummy!"

  "But she keeps crying!"

  "So take care of her, you're a big girl now!" He turned back to Neran, who grinned.

  "So it’s four girls. Wow!"

  "I gave up hope long ago that one of them would follow in my footsteps," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Neran, don’t go to the Altar of Flowers.Damn it, it’s just nonsense and superstition."

  Neran was familiar with the reputation of the place and knew that it was not superstition. He wanted somehow to calm his friend down. "A lot of nymphs have left this country.They prefer it with the elves."

  "Not really. They have more worshipers and devotees here. Humans are naive and superstitious."

  "I´ll go there, anyway."

  "Why, for heaven’s sake? You won’t come back alive, no one has ever returned. Don´t you know that the Altar belongs to Elana, the most beautiful of all the dryads and the most treacherous of all the nymphs!"

  "Don’t exaggerate."

  "She only allows humans to enter during the Feasts of Flowers and Trees, and the Feast of the Earth! You have to bring her a gift and thank her for her protection and kindness. Nothing else!"

  "She is not the only dryad who lives here and protects the forest. Do you hear me? She protects the forest - not humans."

  "But she's the strongest! She takes care of the Altar and truly protects us! For years now we haven´t suffered any earthquakes or other natural disasters."

  "Yeah, but she still allows darkwolves to leisurely devour your people."

  "Listen to me, Neran, don’t go to the Altar. Wait until Earth Day comes along in sixty-one days´ time, and then kneel in front of her."

  "Hah!" Neran snorted derisively. "I'm not going to wait sixty-one days. I must talk to her tomorrow."

  "Why the hell tomorrow?"

  "She knows the answers to all my questions."

  "And what is so important that you need to ask her?"

  "Nobody else can give me an answer."

  "She’ll kill you."

  "If I can handle her task, then she won’t."

  "But you won’t be able to. No mortal has ever done it."

  "I am not a mortal."

  In the silence between them that ensued, the only thing that could be heard was the goat munching its hay and Sell screaming more irately than ever, “Daaaddeee, daaaddeee!“ They stood there refusing to look at each other. Neran thought that it had maybe been a bad idea to visit his old friend. Talem was a good friend, but he did not understand many of Neran’s attitudes to life and was critical about them. He was trying to pretend to himself that Neran was not really that much different to humans, yet he knew that the truth was different. He himself risked his life when he was near Neran.

  Talem finally broke the silence. "Neran, listen to me. Do you know how many young morons like you have tried their luck? A lack of judgment and audacity has cost them their lives."

  "I am neither young nor stupid and audacity is definitely not why I'm going to the Altar."

  "You age differently, but you are young. You still look like you did when you were twenty-five, just like I was when we first met, but unlike me, you have not changed over the years."

  "That’s enough. I’ll go there tomorrow and come back."

  Talem threw his hands into the air in despair and frustration. "As you wish, you fool!" He folded his arms and paused before asking, "What do you want to ask her?"

  "About the Tears of Étarlina."

  "Another nonsense."

  Neran leaned sideways against the wall and crossed his arms. "You believe all kinds of tall tales and superstitions, but not ancient legends. That's interesting."

  "Just as you say - legends. The Tears of Étarlina are only a legend."

  "No, they´re not."

  "Is this what you want to die for?"

  "I think you should go and pay attention to your daughters, otherwise the little general will tear her vocal cords."

  Talem frowned. "I'll bring you some dinner. At least we have some protection from the darkwolves if they come, don’t we? "

  "They won’t come, believe me."

  "No? My old lady wouldn´t believe me anyway," he muttered under his breath as he was leaving the barn. Neran climbed into the loft and nestled comfortably in the hay. The dryad at the Altar of Flowers was his last desperate hope. If his plan didn´t work, he was finished.

  For a while he lay there staring at the ceiling until fatigue overcame him. He drifted in and out of frenzied dreams, his last thought being of his brother.

  Chapter 3

  Riddle

  Something soft brushed against his arm. The dream slowly fell to pieces and vanished as reality pressed on his brain and he slowly woke up. Again something brushed against him, and then something pointed gently pecked his forehead and nose.

  Neran reluctantly opened his eyes. Chickens tiptoed and clucked around him. Two of them were pecking at his hair with interest and one was sat on his stomach. Neran sat up and swung his arms wildly around him, much to the chickens alarm as they flew off in all directions.

  Neran frowned and rubbed his weary eyes. Other than for a thin shaft of daylight squeezing through a small window, the attic was drowned in the darkness of the shade.

  "Stupid birds," he muttered to himself.

  He walked to the edge of the loft where a ladder stood leaning against the wall. He had hay almost everywhere! It scratched at his neck and back and had somehow found its way into his pants. It took him a while to rub himself down and get rid of it. Then he looked down and jumped.

  It was at least five metres, but Neran hit the ground as lightly as a cat. He stretched his back and walked over to a large barrel with water. He washed his face and shook his head. Then he noticed that somebody was watching him from a trough, from a hiding place behind a large roan.

  He turned around and froze. The girl looked very familiar. She rolled her big hazel eyes and looked alarmed. She pressed herself against the trough and stared long and hard at Neran. Apparently, his jump from the loft had scared her. Neran stared back, wondering where he knew her from ... the flood of golden curls, cute freckles ... Yesterday, he had seen her at the stove, but her back had been towards him.

  He took a step closer. "Kell?"

  The girl looked at him with astonishment and curiosity. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

  Was it possible that the little girl that Neran had last seen five years ago and secretly played catch with, had grown up into this lovely young woman?

  "You probably don´t remember me, but ..."

  "Stay away!" she snapped. "I'll scream!"

  That was the last thing Neran needed. "Hey, hey, calm down
, all right? My name is Neran. Does that mean anything to you? I am a friend of your Dad. I haven’t been here for a long time, but ..."

  “Neran?” Kell blinked in recollection. "You ... you look different ..."

  Neran grinned: "It's the beard."

  "I remember you ... it´s been a long time!" she laughed.Neran was relieved that she stopped being afraid and would therefore not be calling on the entire village to pursue him with their torches and pitchforks.

  "You were still a child, whilst now ... you're a young lady."

  Kell blushed. "A year ago, I became a woman. I'm seventeen now."

  "Your Dad also told me that you have suitor."

  "Yes, but I don’t care for him. He keeps bothering me. I'm waiting for a real man! The best would be a noble duke or a prince!"

  "Sure," Neran wished he could vanish. Their dialogue had begun to dangerously resemble that of a girly chat. "Listen, Kell, promise me you will not tell anyone that I’m hiding here."

  "You´re hiding here?" she frowned as she asked the question. Neran gritted his teeth.

  "Your Mother doesn´t really like me, you know. It'll be our secret ... mine, yours and your Dad’s."

  Kell nodded enthusiastically. "All right." Then her expression grew dark. "You shouldn’t stay here for very long. Everyone is waiting for them to come."

  Neran understood that she was talking about the darkwolves.

  "They won’t come, Kell."

  "They'll come, I know it. They apparently even devour children and take young girls with them so they can eat them afterwards!"

  "Yeah, but ..."

  "My Dad keeps telling me to carry a silver knife, but I don’t like weapons. I'm afraid of them."

  "Your Dad is right though."

  "They´ll come tonight, for sure, I know it! I know it! "

  "Calm down! They are not going to come. I know something about them, they have moved on."

  Kell was sceptical. "Really?"

  "Really. Now go and have breakfast, and remember, not a word to anyone!"

  The girl nodded vigorously and ran towards the house.

  That´s one thing off my mind he thought to himself. What's next?