The Wolf At War

by Terry Cloutier

  “Enough of this foolishness,” Dack said. He strode forward until he was facing me. “I played no game with you last night. I don’t even know you, so get away from here before I shove my boot up your ass.”

  Dack reached out and gave my shoulder a push, which was what I had hoped he would do. “Don’t touch me, you turd-sucking bastard!” I shouted as I slashed Wolf’s Head upward. The Pith stared at me in surprise as dark blood started to spray from his neck, drenching me, then he sagged and fell at my feet.

  “What have you done, you fool?” Gafin cried. He rushed forward right onto the point of my sword, while behind me, arrows hissed out from the forest line, striking down the men around the fire.

  My men-at-arms came crashing through the trees next, and they silenced any of the Piths that the arrows hadn’t, while behind them came my archers.

  “Form a shield wall here,” I ordered Berwin as I wiped blood from my eyes, then I plunged into the tent. The first thing I saw inside was a sleeping man wearing a filth-stained tunic lying awkwardly on the fur-lined floor. It was the king, and his hands were manacled and chained around the center post that supported the tent. I knelt and shook him roughly awake.

  “Huh? What?” Tyden muttered. He blinked up at me, his mouth hanging open in surprise. “Hadrack, is that really you?” The king glanced in confusion toward the entrance. “But how?”

  “That’s a long story, Highness,” I muttered as I examined the manacles and chains. Both were made from heavy iron and would be difficult to break apart. “Where are the keys?”

  “Uh, that bastard Lorgen has them,” Tyden answered. I could see he was shaking off the drowsiness of sleep. “What’s going on?”

  “Turn your head away, Highness,” I said, not answering as I stood and drew my axe. The king saw my intent and he nodded before twisting his face away. The tent pole was a thick, young poplar, freshly cut and buried deep into the ground. It took four tries for me to chop through the wet, green wood, with the tent shuddering and shaking around me with every blow. The moment the pole snapped in two, the roof canvas sagged inward, enveloping the king and me. I had expected it, of course, but I cursed anyway, lifting Tyden to his feet as we fought our way outside.

  Things had changed dramatically by the time we extricated ourselves, with my men-at-arms under siege by a group of snarling Piths hurling themselves against their shield wall. Baine and Tyris had formed their archers to the rear of the shield wall on either side of the now partially collapsed tent. My men were shooting into the Piths, dropping many of them, but more were streaming half-naked from the north as the celebrating warriors slowly became aware that the enemy was in amongst them.

  Baine stood off to one side of his archers, shooting with calm precision. “Baine!” I shouted. My friend paused to glance my way. “I have the king! Fire the tents!”

  Baine nodded as he turned to five archers standing behind him who had been waiting for this very purpose. The archers dipped their arrowheads into a well-stoked brazier burning beside them, igniting the resin-soaked tows tied below the iron barbs. Then they began to target the lines of tents, and within minutes the camp was alight with flame. That was the signal Jebido would be watching for from across the river, and I knew the moment he saw it that he and his three hundred men would be galloping toward the bridge. Each of those men would be carrying a sharpened lance, as well as a deep grudge against the Piths who had humiliated their king. Would the force guarding that bridge have done what I expected and rushed back to help when they saw their camp under attack? I couldn’t imagine that they wouldn’t, as they had to believe this was a new threat and that we were long gone. That should present Jebido and his men with tempting targets as they caught the warriors from behind.

  “Hadrack!” Baine called. “There are an awful lot of angry Piths coming this way!”

  I nodded. I could see hordes of Piths running from the Ascension field toward the burning tents, many of them stark naked and clutching only a sword or bow. We had mere minutes before they were on us. It was time to go. “Fall back!” I cried as I drew Tyden further south, away from the flames and the light.

  My men gave ground, retreating around Lorgen’s fallen tent in a disciplined unit, though the center of the wall was wavering as a huge, naked Pith swung an axe like a man possessed, bellowing and crashing it against the heavy Gander shields. Other Piths were emboldened by the crazed warrior, joining him as they threw themselves at our wall.

  “Berwin!” I cried over my shoulder. The tall soldier appeared from the gloom as I pushed Tyden into his arms. “Get the king to safety. The moment he’s clear, blow the horn and send the horses.”

  “Yes, lord.”

  My archers began to shift to the west as planned, still shooting with both Tyris and Baine screaming orders at them to hurry. The Piths came on like rabid dogs, heedless of the arrows decimating their ranks as they focused with single-minded hatred on our shields. I could hear more screams and the clang of weapons from the fields to the north, where I knew Jebido would by now be creating havoc. “Hold the wall, you bastards!” I shouted at my men as I ran to join them. “We’re almost there!”

  The naked Pith warrior roared at the sound of my voice, and his enraged gaze fixated on me. Then he swung his great axe. The Pith shield on my arm shuddered as he struck, and a great hole appeared in the wood, with the gleaming axe blade narrowly missing my arm. The warrior tore his weapon free and I peered through the jagged rent as he reared back to strike again. That’s when I lunged forward with Wolf’s Head, catching the man under his left armpit. My blade went in deep, and the warrior bellowed, dropping his axe as he fell just as a horn sounded from the west.

  “Run!” I shouted. “Run for your lives!”

  My men needed no urging, having been warned by Tyris earlier that this would happen. We turned and fled west, while behind us, the ground began to shake like an earthquake. The lead Piths started to chase after us, then the first of the running horses appeared, bursting from the darkness with terrified eyes glowing like red-hot embers. The savage warriors hesitated in surprise, which was their undoing as more and more of the panicked horses appeared, trampling everything in their path as they stampeded through the burning camp. The naked Pith warriors coming from the north had no chance to dodge aside, and they fell in droves beneath the hooves of the charging animals. I could see the torches of my men waving to the south and hear their shouts as they drove even more of the vast herd north. I called out to them that it was enough, but with the horrific sounds of screaming coming from both the terrified horses and dying Piths, I wasn’t sure that they could hear me.

  I caught up to Berwin and the king, and together, we half carried Tyden in our arms as we raced west across the long grasses.

  “Where are we going?” the king gasped.

  I pointed ahead toward the dark mass of Gasterny that rose in the distance. “There, Highness.”

  Then we ran, saving our breath as a dispassionate moon stared down at us while the night burned and men died. Jebido and his lancers appeared from the gloom halfway to the garrison, their horses blowing hard, then more riders with extra horses and packhorses. I helped Tyden into the saddle of a white mare, then gratefully swung up onto Angry’s back. We didn’t have enough horses for all the archers, so Jebido’s lancers guarded their backs as they ran, though by now, the Piths were offering up only the occasional futile assault in small bands. The main body of warriors was desperately trying to contain the thousands of terror-stricken horses and had, at least for the moment, forgotten about us.

  We finally reached Gasterny, where Lord Vestry waited on his horse on the open drawbridge, his usually timid face broken by an enormous grin. “Thank The Mother, you’re alive, Highness,” he said with relief as the king rode up to him.

  “No, Lord Vestry,” Tyden said as he glanced back at me. “We have Lord Hadrack to thank for that.”

  I waited with Jebido for Baine and Tyris to arrive with the rest of our archers and lan
cers, then sent them all inside Gasterny to safety.

  “I can’t believe that worked,” Jebido finally grunted as we sat alone together studying the Piths burning camp. I said nothing, lost in my thoughts, and finally, Jebido turned his horse and clattered across the drawbridge. He paused at the barbican to look back at me. “Are you coming, Hadrack, or do you love Piths so much that you want to stay out here and see what they do?”

  “I’m coming,” I said with a tired chuckle. I glanced once more toward the destroyed encampment, wondering where Lorgen Three-Fingers was in all that confusion, knowing instinctively that the Amenti chieftain had survived. “Your move, you bastard,” I whispered as I guided Angry into the darkened fortress. “Your move.”

  13: Return to Gasterny

  Gasterny. Once again, I found myself, however reluctantly, under siege within her walls. The memories that the cold stone and cheerless buildings evoked in me as Angry trotted into the outer bailey threatened to overwhelm my senses. The drawbridge clanked and rattled as it rose behind me, then finally closed with an ominous crash that made me jump. I paused the big horse to look back, wondering if the gods had returned me to this place on purpose just so that I could add my ghost to those of my long-dead brothers and sisters. Torches were being lit one by one along the walls, filling the bailey with growing light. Soldiers shouted to each other in a bustle of activity, working to unload the milling packhorses laden with provisions for the men, grain for the horses, extra lances, and hundreds of sheaves of arrows. I hadn’t known what resources, if any, we would find inside Gasterny, nor how long we would be forced to stay here, so I had prepared for the worst.

  Despite Lord Vestry’s fears, he had found the garrison empty and devoid of life, with no one to witness his entrance other than a few half-starved goats and some festering corpses left behind by the Piths. Long, flickering shadows cast by the torches caressed the stone of the walls, buildings, and watchtowers as the fortress slowly returned to life. Men were leading horses to the stables, while others were busy removing the stinking bodies and cleaning out the barracks as archers climbed to the ramparts and took up positions in the watchtowers. I doubted the Piths would attack us in the darkness, but I knew Lorgen Three-Fingers would be enraged and humiliated by his defeat, so it was best not to make any assumptions.

  More of our men were heading toward the inner bailey to begin preparing the keep for the king’s arrival. All of this was being organized by an energetic Lord Fitzery, who though young, had an air of confidence and command about him that I could only envy. Only Lord Vestry, Lord Fitzery, and myself of all the lords who had come south with the king had survived the long day and night to make it to relative safety in Gasterny.

  I guided Angry across the cobblestones, certain that I could feel the eyes of Gasterny’s dead watching me as I paused the big black by the steps to the Holy House. I dismounted and stared at those cold-looking stone steps, remembering sitting on them many times. Almost four years had passed since I had seen them last. Those four years had transformed me from an impatient, headstrong boy into a veteran warrior, husband, and privileged lord. Still, a part of me longed for the carefree days that I’d spent gambling and playing dice with the Piths or talking on these same steps with Ania, Einhard, Betania, and Eriz. I had hated being here at the time, desperate to be free so that I could fulfill my vow to my family. But an oath of service to Einhard that honor would not let me break had hampered that vow. But now, as I looked back, I felt nothing except fondness for my time here and the people that I had known and loved.

  “I imagine you’re thinking about Ania.” I turned as Baine walked over to me. He was smiling, though it was a sad smile tinged with melancholy. I could tell he felt the presence of the ghosts the same as I did.

  “Yes,” I said. “About her and Betania and Eriz, and everyone else who died in this cursed place.”

  Baine climbed the steps and sat on the landing, looking up at the walls. “It’s hard to believe we’re back here again. It’s like a bad dream.” A soldier came to take Angry away, and I moved to sit beside my friend. “I try not to think about what happened here,” Baine continued. “Whenever I do, I see Padrea bent over that barrel being raped and I want to kill someone.”

  I nodded, understanding. “I like to believe they all found the Path to the Master on their own,” I said. “It helps me sleep better.”

  Baine looked at me oddly. “You don’t actually believe all of that, do you, Hadrack?” he asked. “About the Master and the Path?”

  I shrugged. “Piths believe it, and we believe something else. One of us has to be wrong.”

  Baine snorted. “You’re starting to sound just like Jebido.”

  I laughed and stood wearily, putting a hand on my friend’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Baine. Nothing wrong with that at all.”

  “Lord,” one of the archers called down from the watchtower. “We’ve got riders approaching.”

  I sighed and looked up. I had hoped to have more time for my men to rest and recoup from the long day. “How many?”

  “Five or six, lord, no more than that.”

  “Well, thank The Mother for that,” I muttered as Baine rose to his feet with a tired groan and followed me to the ramparts. Lord Fitzery and Jebido were already waiting for us when we got there.

  “Where’s the king?” I asked.

  “Lying down in the keep,” Jebido answered. “Should I go wake him?”

  I shook my head. “Let’s see what this is about first.”

  “Looks to me like they just want to talk,” Lord Fitzery said. He grinned at me. “I don’t imagine they have ridden all this way just to say nice things about you, though, so try not to get offended, Lord Hadrack.”

  I laughed, finding myself liking the young lord immensely. “I’ll do my best.”

  I studied the six riders as they approached. Lorgen Three-Fingers rode in the center, with his son riding to his right. The rider on each end carried a flickering torch, which a brisk wind coming in from the north was working hard at extinguishing. I didn’t recognize any of the other men with Lorgen and his son, but I didn’t need to—I knew who they were. The Ear, the Eye, the Sword, and the Shield. They were the Blood Guard, the four men sworn to protect the leader of the tribe.

  The riders stopped their horses just out of bowshot range, and I smiled to myself when I realized they had forgotten about my Wolf’s Teeth. We could pick all six off easily with the longbows, I knew, if it weren’t for the glowering hulk of a man to Lorgen’s right who carried a wilted parlay branch in his right hand. Honor dictated that we could not harm the six men while carrying that branch, though I was sorely tempted to give the order just the same.

  Lorgen Three-Fingers took one of the torches in his bad hand, and then he kicked his horse forward. He lifted the torch so I could see his face as he peered up at the ramparts where I stood in the shadows. “Do you see me, Wolf?” he called.

  “Get me a torch,” I told Baine. My friend was gone for just a moment, returning with a flaming brand. I leaped to the top of the battlements with it in my hands, staring down at Lorgen Three-Fingers. “I see you, Pith,” I growled back.

  We just stared at each other for a time, neither saying anything. I could feel a malevolent hatred emanating from the Amenti chieftain that would have taken my breath away had I not been prepared for it.

  “Do you think you have won, whelp?” Lorgen finally demanded in a husky voice. “Hiding up there behind those walls like a coward.”

  I laughed. “If you don’t like these walls, old man, then why don’t you crawl over them so that I can kill you?”

  “I was going to give you to my son after what you did to him,” Lorgen said, ignoring my taunt. His horse fidgeted, and it took a moment for the Pith to settle the beast down. “But now,” he continued once the animal had quieted, “I’m going to keep you all to myself. Your death will take days, whelp, with so much pain that you will beg me to slit your throat and end your
suffering.”

  “You must have a lot of time on your hands,” I said down to him. “Most old men usually do. But I don’t, so when I kill you, I promise it will be quick.”

  “You bastard!” Nedo shouted from behind his father. He pointed at me. “Fight me, you coward. Just you and me, man to man.”

  I laughed and spat over the wall into the moat. “Don’t waste my time, boy. I’ve already taken your balls, so you’re no man now. Don’t be in such a hurry to lose your head along with those balls.”

  Nedo started to curse me in a long string of foul words. I turned to glance down at my friends in mock astonishment, impressed despite myself at the boy’s command of language. Finally, the youth ran out of words to say, and he just sat his horse, breathing heavily while his father studied me with hooded eyes.

  “We will come for you, whelp,” Lorgen finally said, his voice even now, yet filled with malice. “When the sun rises, we will come. So be ready to die.” The chieftain dismounted and tossed the torch aside, then he drew a knife and cut a gash across the top of his good hand. Nedo dropped to the ground beside him and used the same knife to slash open his palm and the top of his hand. Then the glowering Pith came next, doing the same, followed by the rest of the Piths until they all stood together, one hand over the other, sharing blood as they stared up at me. “In the name of the Master, we six make a blood-oath of vengeance against Lord Hadrack of Corwick and the Gandermen in this garrison,” Lorgen said loudly. “Nothing will stand in our way of your complete destruction. Be it one day or ten years from now, we will not sway from our purpose while we still breathe. That is our oath and pledge to each other and to you, Hadrack of Corwick. So hear our words and know that you are doomed.”

  “Doomed,” the five Piths repeated. Then they turned without another word, mounted their horses and rode back to their camp.