The Wolf At War

by Terry Cloutier

  I waved a hand. “Baine is going to take another ten minutes, knowing him. We’ve got time.”

  “All right,” Ania nodded. She set the basket down, playing with the broken branch as she talked. “Clendon was known as Clendon the Thinker then. He was a Peshwin.”

  “Like you and Einhard, Alesia, and Eriz,” I said, knowing that they all came from the same tribe.

  “Yes,” Ania agreed. “But this was long before any of us were born. Clendon fell in love with the daughter of Obed the Knife, the chieftain of the Hadrees tribe. And even though Obed refused their union, they married secretly anyway. Obed was furious, and he, along with his Blood Guard, swore a blood-oath against the Peshwin for allowing the marriage. Obed disowned his daughter and sent his warriors to destroy the Peshwin. He couldn’t actually do that of course because the Peshwin were just as strong as the Hadrees, so what followed were years of bloodshed, murder, and betrayal. Finally, Clendon went to Obed on his knees, offering up his life in exchange for an end to the war. But Obed spat on Clendon.” Ania’s face turned hard and dangerous as she relived the insult. “He told Clendon that there could be no peace until every last Peshwin was dead, including his disowned daughter and the child that she had borne. Angry and bitter at the stupidity of Obed, Clendon was so enraged that he called for a Tribal Challenge of the Hadrees.”

  “So, he fought Obed and killed him,” I said, nodding my head in understanding.

  “Not exactly,” Ania replied. “Any Pith can challenge the chieftain of a tribe to a Tribal Challenge, even those not of that tribe. But to earn the right to fight the chieftain, that challenger must first go through his protectors.”

  “You mean the Blood Guard?” I said in wonder. “You’re saying that he had to fight four men first before he could even get to Obed?”

  “Yes,” Ania agreed. “One after the other with no rest in between. Clendon is the only man or woman to succeed in a Tribal Challenge in over three hundred years. His victory ended the blood-oath, since the five men who had sworn it were all dead, and as the new chieftain of the Hadrees, he began to bring peace to the Pith tribes, eventually uniting all of us.”

  Baine had called me then, and I had left on a patrol that would soon doom everyone in Gasterny to death. I had forgotten all about Clendon and the Tribal Challenge until now, and I stood in the darkness as the wind tugged at my beard playfully, staring out over the wall at the hundreds of cooking fires lighting up the Pith camp.

  “Thank you, Einhard,” I whispered. “I understand now, my old friend.”

  I turned away, heading for the keep and my bed. I would need my rest, for tomorrow, the fate of every man in Gasterny would hang on the strength of my sword arm.

  15: Tribal Challenge

  “Have you lost your damn mind!?” Jebido thundered at me the next morning.

  It was still an hour before dawn, yet every man in the garrison was already awake. Many were filling their bellies for the needed strength food would give them or sharpening weapons that were already as keen as they would ever be as they prepared for the coming attack. Jebido, Baine, Fitz, and Lord Vestry sat with the king and me at a table near the dais. No one knew when we would get a chance to eat again, so there was no rationing of our food stocks this day. I had just informed everyone around the table of my plans, and each of their faces mirrored the incredulous look Jebido was giving me.

  “Can you think of a better idea?” I asked my friend casually. I’d only had a few hours of sleep, yet that sleep had been especially restful and worry-free. I felt calm and wonderfully alive, even though I knew in another hour or two I might be lying dead in the fields to the east. I had a purpose now, one which did not include cowering behind walls waiting to be slaughtered. It was invigorating and I couldn’t wait to set it into motion.

  “Yes, you fool!” Jebido snapped, his eyes flashing. “I can think of a better idea. We kill every one of those bastards that comes over our walls until there’s no more of them left to kill. That’s my idea. What kind of lunatic rides alone against six thousand blood-thirsty Pith warriors?”

  “A brave one,” Tyden said with a sigh. He studied me with blood-shot eyes. I might have slept well, but clearly, the king had not. “What makes you think Einhard will let us live, even if you somehow manage to win this challenge?” Tyden asked.

  I shrugged. “I can’t promise what he will do, Highness. I just know that was the message he was giving me. He wouldn’t have offered it if there wasn’t a way out of this for all of us.”

  “You seem to have overlooked something, Lord Hadrack,” Lord Vestry said, surprising me. He rarely spoke at these gatherings, and it was easy to forget that he was even there.

  “And what would that be?” I asked.

  Lord Vestry shifted on the bench uncomfortably. “You said that any Pith might challenge for leadership of any of the tribes, yet I must point out that you are not a Pith.”

  I grinned and motioned to Jebido, who was staring at me with a dark expression. “Care to answer that for me?”

  Jebido just snorted and looked away.

  “When we swore an oath to Einhard,” Baine explained to Lord Vestry. “He made us members of his tribe. So, what Hadrack is saying is correct. All three of us are considered Peshwin, which means he does have the right to call for a Tribal Challenge.”

  “As long as Einhard backs his claim, you mean,” Jebido added with a growl. “If he chooses not to, then you’ll be dead before you can even draw your sword.”

  “He will support me,” I said confidently. “This was his idea in the first place.”

  “It could still be a ploy,” Fitz suggested as he cut into an apple. Several moth larvae squirmed out from the severed fruit where his knife had passed. The young lord absently pulled them free and tossed them over his shoulder. “Maybe he knows you better than you think, Hadrack,” Fitz said, pointing his knife at me. “Maybe he’s just trying to draw you out there so that Lorgen can take his time to kill you.”

  “Not a chance,” Baine said with a snort. “If Einhard suggested this, then that means he believes Hadrack can win.”

  “And if by some miracle you do manage to defeat five men, Lord Hadrack,” Lord Vestry said, looking down at his hands. “What happens to us?”

  “There’s only one way to find out, lord,” I said. I turned to Tyden. “Highness, this is the only chance we have. It might be slim, I’ll grant you that, but any chance is better than none at all. Let me do this.”

  “Do you believe you can defeat them, Lord Hadrack?” Tyden asked. He leaned forward and put his hand over mine. “Because I have no wish to throw my best fighter to the dogs for no reason. I know you are brave, and I know you would gladly lay down your life for those in this garrison. But I also know you are an honest man. So tell me, Lord Hadrack, in all honesty, do you believe if you make this challenge that you can win?”

  I smiled. “You have my word, Highness, that I don’t just believe I can win—I know I can.” I put my other hand over his. “You have my solemn vow that I will not fail you.”

  Tyden took a deep breath, withdrawing his hand as he sat back. “Then I accept your offer, Lord Hadrack. You have my permission to leave Gasterny and make this challenge. May The Mother watch over you and keep you safe.”

  “Thank you, Highness,” I said. I glanced at Jebido, whose eyes were stained dark with bitterness, then I stood. “If you will all forgive me then, I’m going to go prepare. I want to be on my way before the sun rises.”

  Half an hour later, I stood with Angry near the gatehouse as I said my goodbyes. The king came to me first, and he drew me to him in a warm embrace. “Our prayers and hopes go with you this day, Lord Hadrack,” Tyden said. He stood back, his hands on my shoulders as he studied me. “I was right to make you a lord. You have not disappointed me.”

  “Thank you, Highness,” I said gratefully.

  Next came Fitz and we locked arms as he wished me luck, advising me to take my own advice and keep my eyes off the Pit
h women while I fought. I laughed and assured him that wouldn’t be a problem.

  “Don’t you go and get yourself killed,” Baine said to me as Fitz stepped away. “There’s still too much for you and me to do in this world. I’m not ready for us to move on to the next one just yet.”

  “We’ll see each other soon,” I promised him as we embraced. “Right here.” I glanced at Jebido, who stood off to one side holding a shield and a lance. He scowled at me. “Any last advice before I go?” I asked my friend.

  Jebido nodded moodily as he handed me the shield. “Remember what I taught you, and whatever you do, keep your temper in check. Use your brain and fight defensively. Smashing away at a man’s guard might give you the win eventually, but you’ll be winded when you have to fight the next man. That means he’ll be as fresh as a morning flower and tickling your ribs with his sword while you’re still trying to catch your breath, so stay calm and focused.”

  “Got it,” I said as I swung up on Angry. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah,” Jebido grunted. “Don’t lose.” He handed me the lance, which had a well-used tunic hanging from the spearpoint. There wasn’t a branch to be found inside Gasterny to use for parlay, so the tunic would have to suffice. “Remember,” Jebido added. “Every man has a pattern. Study it and use it to your advantage.”

  I nodded to him, then gestured to the men at the gate that I was ready. The drawbridge began to lower as I guided Angry forward across the cobblestones. Men were lined up all along the ramparts watching me, though not one of them said anything. We all understood the only chance any of us had to live lay with me, but I’m sure most of those watching believed they were looking down at a dead man. I dearly hoped to prove them wrong.

  I saw Tyris and Niko standing with Berwin above me, and I saluted them with the lance before I passed through the barbican. The skies to the east were glowing orange over the trees as the sun slowly rose, and I could see Piths moving about in their camp as they prepared themselves for the coming attack. I crossed the drawbridge and paused Angry on the other side as it slowly cranked back up behind me. A blanket of mist rose serenely from the moat and floated along the ground, and with that and the still faint light, I was certain that the Piths remained unaware that anyone had left the garrison. If they had posted a sentry to watch Gasterny, I didn’t see him.

  “We’re on our own now, boy,” I said to Angry as we started forward.

  We quickly left the fortress behind, and I made it perhaps another hundred yards before the Piths finally noticed me. I could hear shouts of surprise echoing out in the still morning air, and then riders began galloping toward me.

  “Easy now,” I whispered to Angry as he snorted, shaking his head in warning at the approaching horses.

  The Piths came on, perhaps as many as a hundred. They were screaming their war cries as they swept down on me, circling close on all sides and waving their hammers, axes, and swords. I continued at a steady pace right through them, looking straight ahead as I kept my features blank. A Pith warrior raced past me, cracking his war hammer against my shield as he went by. I didn’t flinch or even acknowledge it. Another man rode past on the other side of me, this time using a sword. I felt the heat of his blade as it hissed past my ear. I stared straight ahead, fixing a cold smile on my lips as I guided Angry toward the camp.

  The warriors surrounding me were playing a game, one which I knew well and understood. The Piths liked to see how close they could get to a man with their weapons before he balked. I had seen warriors standing tall, not moving a muscle as sword blades, axes, and war hammers grazed his skin while his brothers tried to unnerve him. I had also seen warriors inflicted with terrible wounds when a Pith misjudged his strike, so I prayed the warriors around me today all had sound eyes and steady hands. Another rider pulled up beside me. I could see out of the corner of my eye that it was a woman, and I did nothing as she took a knife and cut the tunic from the lance, then tore off, waving it over her head.

  The Piths started to insult me as I rode, though their words were tempered by grudging respect for not showing any reaction or fear. Finally, we reached the outskirts of the Pith encampment, and the warriors started to fade back, giving me space as I dismounted. Many of the Piths had come out from the palisades, watching me in curious silence. I saw a youth no older than Peren had been the day that he had lost his head, and I crooked a finger at him. The Pith gawked at me, looking around self-consciously before he stepped forward.

  I put Angry’s reins into his hands. “This horse is the breath which gives me life,” I said, using the Pith traditional words when handing over a horse. “Care for him well, brother, and the Master will reward you. Cause him any harm, and not even the Master can save you from my wrath.”

  The Pith blinked in surprise, looking down at the reins in his hands before he nodded. “It shall be done.”

  I smiled coldly. “Finish it properly, boy,” I said with a snarl.

  The youth colored. “It shall be done, brother.”

  “Good,” I said in approval. “And fetch Einhard while you’re at it. Tell him Hadrack of the Peshwin wishes to see him.” The boy’s mouth dropped open, and then he nodded uncertainly before leading Angry away. I stood, staring at the hundreds of unfriendly faces watching me as I waited. That wait didn’t take long as Lorgen Three-Fingers strode through the palisade gates, staring at me in amazement.

  “Well, if it isn’t the wolf come crawling at long last,” Lorgen said as he paused in front of me. The man was bigger than I had thought, almost able to look directly into my eyes. Lorgen’s son, Nedo, followed his father through the gates with the four men of the chieftain’s Blood Guard. I noticed the boy’s feral eyes were aglow with excitement as he fingered his sword. Lorgen shook his head back and forth slowly as he studied me, then he chuckled. “You might have big weighty balls, Wolf, but that weight seems to have taken a great deal away from your brains. What do you expect to accomplish by coming here, except to find a quicker death?”

  I saw Einhard pushing his way through the growing crowd of Piths. “Brothers and sisters, hear me!” I shouted, lifting my arms in the air. “I am Hadrack of the Peshwin, and as is my right, I evoke a Tribal Challenge!” I pointed at Lorgen as his eyes widened in surprise. “I challenge this man’s right to lead the Amenti!”

  “What!?” Lorgen snapped. “What game is this?” I could hear the confused murmur of hundreds of voices as the Piths reacted to my words. “You sniveling, filthy Ganderman!” Lorgen Three-Fingers growled as he drew his sword.

  “Wait!” Einhard cried. “Stay your hand, Three-Fingers.” Einhard strode toward us, his face angry as he glared at me. “How dare you!” he boomed as he halted in front of me. The Sword backhanded me across the face without warning, and I staggered in surprise beneath the powerful blow. “I saved your life, you ungrateful bastard, and the thanks I got for it was betrayal! And now you come here with your tail between your legs, trying to save your sorry ass with this Tribal Challenge nonsense! ”

  I felt blood on my lips, and I spat redness on the ground as I straightened to face Einhard, my hand on my sword hilt. I wasn’t sure if this was all part of Einhard’s plan or if he was genuinely angry, but either way, his striking me had the desired effect. Now I was angry too. “So, when it serves your purpose, you claim I’m not a Peshwin,” I said with a laugh. “But that certainly wasn’t the case when I fought by your side.” I pointed at Einhard. “It was you who spoke the sacred words years ago that welcomed me into your tribe. Do you remember that, Einhard? Words that you assured me made me a brother to all Peshwins for life, no matter what.” Einhard glowered at me, though I thought I could see doubt in his good eye now. “I may have returned to Ganderland, brother,” I said. “But that was not my choice in the beginning. I have not forgotten what it means to be a Peshwin, even though it seems that you have.”

  “Enough of this talk,” Lorgen Three-Fingers grunted. He put his sword to my neck. “Your death will not be quick, Wolf. No,
it won’t be quick at all.”

  “You cannot dismiss my claim, Einhard,” I said, ignoring the cold blade at my throat. “Just because you don’t like what I have to say does not make it untrue.”

  “You are a Ganderman,” Einhard replied dismissively. “And we are at war with you. That nullifies your claim.”

  “I was born a Flin first,” I retorted. “Now I am both Gander and Peshwin, and nothing you say can change that.” I raised my voice so that I could be heard by as many of the Piths as possible. “I have spent time in the Rutting Rings, honoring the souls of my brothers and sisters as they found the path to the Master. I have fought beside warriors just like you and shed blood for them, and they for me. I have been an Other-Mate to a wonderful Peshwin woman whom I loved, and I have shared drink and laughter with many good friends who viewed me as one of them.” I paused and winked at the listening Piths. “And I have lost more silver fingers in ill-conceived bets to those same friends than I care to admit.” I heard laughter at that as I turned back to Einhard. “So make no mistake, Einhard the Unforgiving. I am a Peshwin as much as you are, and my right to call a Tribal Challenge cannot be denied by you or anyone else.”

  I could hear more than one Pith voice shouting out that I was right and that Einhard should allow the challenge to go ahead.

  “Do you deny any of what I have said?” I asked Einhard when he remained silent.

  The Sword glowered at me. “I do not,” he replied reluctantly.

  “And would any Pith alive allow anyone other than a brother or sister into the Rutting Rings?”

  “They would not,” Einhard conceded.

  “Which can only mean one thing,” I said smugly.

  Einhard scowled as he thought about my words, his hands on his hips. Finally, he glanced at Lorgen Three-Fingers. “Lower your sword, Lorgen,” he said. “As much as it pains me, Hadrack is correct. He has the right to call for a Tribal Challenge.”