The Wolf At War

by Terry Cloutier

  “To say what?” Baine asked, already standing.

  “I want Jebido to break camp immediately,” I said, my mind whirling. I pointed at Baine. “Tell him he has to be here by dawn, no later. I don’t care if the men have to run all night to do it.”

  “But, they’ll be exhausted, Hadrack,” Baine protested. “You can’t ask men to fight after that kind of ordeal.”

  “I’m hoping we won’t have to,” I said. Baine started to go and I called him back. “And find Fitz. Tell him I need to see him.”

  Ten minutes later, Fitz pushed his way into the tent, a smile on his face. “So, you decided to rejoin the living, my friend.”

  I frowned, in no mood for jokes. I held out my hand, my expression cold. “Give me the codex.”

  Fitz stared at me, his smile fading. “I wasn’t going to keep it, Hadrack,” he finally said, his voice turning sulky as he handed the book to me. “I didn’t know how long you would be asleep, that’s all. I didn’t want to risk someone else seeing it.”

  “I know that,” I said, my agitation easing now that I had the codex pressed to my chest. I looked up at my friend. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way that it sounded.”

  Fitz studied me carefully, then he nodded. “That’s fair enough,” he said, the tension on his face easing as the familiar grin returned. “So, is that all you wanted?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’m going to need you to reprise your role as the king again.”

  Fitz blinked in surprise. “For what purpose?”

  “You’re going to convince Lord Boudin that he has to surrender to us.”

  Fitz gaped at me. “How exactly am I supposed to do that?” he asked.

  So I told him.

  I sent scouts to the east well before dawn broke the next morning, watching for any signs of Jebido. So far, I had heard nothing back. If my friend failed and didn’t arrive with his men before the sun rose, then there was a good chance that the gamble I was setting into motion would likely fail as well. The night had been a busy one, with my men working feverishly in the darkness to prepare everything before the skies lightened. I lay in my bed with less than an hour to go before sunrise, feeling frustrated with my helplessness as Fitz sat with me, his cheerful banter filling the tent.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of talking?” I finally asked in exasperation. My friend was dressed in the finest armor we could find that would fit him, with an elegant Cardian cape draped over his shoulders. A golden helm taken from a fallen enemy lancer sat on the stool beside my bed, a hastily fashioned crown fixed around the crest.

  “Communication is good for the soul, Hadrack,” Fitz said as he paced back and forth at the foot of my bed. “Without the gift of the spoken word, we would be nothing but rutting, grunting beasts.”

  “Uh-huh,” I muttered, not really listening. I could tell Fitz was about to go into another one of his long-winded dialogues, and I looked up with relief when a squat man with silver hair poked his head inside the tent.

  “May I come in, lord?” he asked tentatively.

  I waved him inside, glad for the distraction. “Certainly, Quill,” I said. Quill was the carpenter who had made the splints for my leg. I glanced in surprise at the set of crutches that he held in his hands. “You’re done already?” I asked. I hadn’t expected the crutches until much later in the day.

  “Yes, lord,” Quill said. He lowered his eyes. “My apologies for the crudeness of the design, lord. I thought you could use them as soon as possible. Had I more time, I would have properly smoothed and oiled them for you.”

  “No need,” I said, not hiding my pleasure as I carefully pushed the furs off me. I lifted a hand to Fitz, who helped me to my feet. I clamped my teeth together to keep myself from crying out as my broken leg dragged along the floor.

  “Here, lord,” Quill said, hurrying over and propping one of the crutches under my left armpit. “Just lean on it until you get a feel for things.”

  I bent my broken leg at an angle off the floor, then lowered my weight onto the crutch.

  “Now the other one,” Fitz said, still supporting me. He took the second crutch from Quill and guided it under my right arm. He studied me critically. “So, what do you think?”

  I nodded to him that I was all right, and my friend stepped back a pace, his arms spread to catch me if I fell. I took a tentative step forward, the rough oak board beneath each armpit digging painfully into me. Then another step, quickly learning to support myself with my good leg first before I swung my body forward on the crutches. It took almost five minutes of going back and forth across the tent before I finally got the rhythm down correctly, though by then, I’d broken out into a cold sweat. I glanced at Quill and grinned, delighted. “They work better than I thought they would. Thank you.”

  “A pleasure, lord. When there is more time, I will make you a much better pair with padded armrests.” Quill turned to go, and then he hesitated as he saw my father’s shattered axe where the two pieces lay near my bed. He whistled softly between his teeth. “May I, lord?” he asked, gesturing to the weapon. I nodded as Quill picked up both sections reverently. “Incredible workmanship, lord,” he said, studying the carvings with intensity. “It’s been a long time since I have seen such a fine example of Vander Lane’s work.”

  “Who?” I said, not recognizing the name.

  “Vander Lane, lord,” Quill said. “He was a master woodcarver, famous for his works. He died many years ago, but his son, Versin, is said to almost rival his skills.”

  I shared a look with Fitz and we both couldn’t help but smile. “Could he repair it?” I asked eagerly.

  Quill shrugged. “I don’t see why not, lord,” he said as he carefully set the pieces down again. He moved to the tent’s entrance. “The last I heard, Versin Lane was working out of Halhaven.”

  I thanked Quill as he left, just as Baine stepped into the tent around him. “The sky is brightening over the hills, Hadrack,” he said. He grinned when he saw me standing up with the crutches. “Those look good.”

  “Any word from Jebido?” I asked.

  Baine’s smile quickly faded. “Nothing yet.”

  “We’re going to look pretty stupid out there if he doesn’t get here in time,” Fitz muttered as he and Baine helped me to put on my armor.

  “He’ll make it,” I said, trying to sound confident, though inside my stomach was churning with nervousness.

  Baine slipped Wolf’s Head into its familiar sheath on my hip once I was dressed. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Ready,” I nodded.

  My friend parted the tent flap for me and I shuffled my way outside on the crutches. A cool wind was blowing from the west along the valley, pulling at my cloak. Angry stood waiting for me, his tail swishing with impatience, though he did snicker softly in greeting at my appearance. A stained and bulging canvas sack hung from the pommel of his saddle. I hobbled over to the big stallion, balancing on my crutches as I lifted a hand to stroke his muzzle. “This is going to hurt me a lot more than you,” I said. Two burly soldiers were waiting close by, their faces cast in shadow in the dim light. I nodded to them that I was ready as Baine took the crutches from me while Fitz steadied my arm.

  “Here,” Fitz said, holding up a wooden tent peg. “Bite down on this.”

  I looked at the peg sourly, but opened my mouth regardless, clamping down hard on the wood as the soldiers bent and lifted me awkwardly into the air, both grunting from the effort. I felt an explosion of pain in both my leg and side at the same time, thankful for Fitz’s tent peg now as I bit deep into it.

  “Don’t grab him there, you fool!” Fitz snapped at one of the men who had just braced a hand against my bad side. The soldier yanked his hand away as though it was on fire, gushing heartfelt apologies to me. I barely heard him as I fought the nausea rising in me.

  “Try to throw your leg over now, Hadrack,” I heard Baine saying, though the words seemed to be coming from very far away.

&nb
sp; I focused on the dark saddle across Angry’s broad back as the men holding me started breathing heavier, fighting to keep me steady. Finally, I swung my good leg over the big horse, screaming around the wood in my mouth before I dropped heavily into the saddle. I sat for a moment in silence, shuddering, my head bent as I absorbed the pain washing across my body. I sat that way for at least a minute with my eyes closed, my breath rattling in my chest, before finally I sat up straighter and opened my eyes. I removed the tent peg with a shaking hand, not surprised to see that I had bitten halfway through it. I tossed the peg aside as Fitz handed a shield up to me.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Baine asked, worry heavy on his face.

  I tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a painful grunt. “Never been better.”

  “I can still go in your place,” Baine said. “Or if not me, then Wiflem or Fignam.”

  I just shook my head as Fitz mounted a delicate-looking brown mare with downy, gentle eyes. I knew I was in no shape to ride and that what I was doing was not only foolish, but stupid. I had every confidence in Baine, Wiflem, or Fignam to handle the task ahead, but the simple truth was that I am a stubborn man. In the end, my sitting astride Angry with fire breathing down my limbs and my eyes swimming in and out of focus, came down to just one thing. I wanted to look Lord Boudin in the face and let him see his death unless he did what I wanted. I needed to convince the bastard that we could destroy him at our whim, and one way to make that happen was for him to believe that the Wolf of Corwick Castle was not only alive and well, but spoiling for a fight.

  I looked down at Baine and gestured to my long cloak. “Fix this, will you?” Baine carefully draped the cloak over my splint, hiding it, then he frowned as the heavy woolen cloth unwound and fell back. He tried again with the same result. “Lash something around it,” I said impatiently. “I can’t let him see my leg like this.”

  Baine nodded, producing a knife from his boot before cutting a strip of cloth from his own cloak. I looked around as I waited for my friend to finish his task. The sky was growing lighter by the moment, and I glanced over my shoulder to see a faint orange ball pushing its way slowly above the hills—hills that were still silent, dark, and empty of men. I cursed under my breath and turned away. My forces stood where they had the previous day, though this time, all the archers had joined with them. I stared at the ranks of shields, armor, and spears facing west as I said a silent prayer to The Mother. Please let Jebido arrive soon.

  “Are you ready, Hadrack?” Fitz asked.

  I nodded, and together we urged our horses toward the north where the breach had occurred yesterday. Men stood watching us silently in the half-light, pikes ready, banners flapping in the early morning breeze. The soldiers moved aside to let us pass, and I saw Berwin and Niko standing together staring at us. I nodded confidently to the two young men as we passed. Dead horses and soldiers littered the ground all across the valley here, and both Angry and Fitz’s mount shied away from the stinking corpses, carefully picking their way through the maze.

  Fitz turned and looked back as we progressed west, whistling, but I resisted the urge to follow his example. “They look better than I expected,” he said, facing ahead again. He grinned at me. “I can’t vouch for their ability to wield a spear, of course, but they look good nonetheless.”

  “Just as long as they do their jobs,” I grunted. “That’s all I care about.”

  “What makes you so convinced this Lord Boudin fellow will even come?” Fitz asked. “The rider you sent said he would only consider it.”

  “He’ll come,” I promised. I glanced sideways at my friend. “My message said that the king wanted to discuss terms of surrender.”

  Fitz chuckled. “But Lord Boudin thinks you meant our surrender, doesn’t he?”

  I bowed my head in acknowledgment. “Well, you did say earlier that communication was important.” I allowed myself a small grin. “Perhaps I should have been clearer about what I meant, now that I think about it.”

  Fitz laughed, the hearty sounds echoing off the walls surrounding us as we headed west along the valley. I could see a faint orange glow reflecting off the back of Fitz’s helmet now, but I steadfastly refused to look behind me. We stopped our horses fifty feet from the bend, waiting in uncomfortable silence until finally several riders appeared. One of the riders held Lord Boudin’s boar banner on a long pike that was braced against his saddle. The other man sat astride a brown stallion that was almost as big as Angry. I studied the man, knowing he would be Lord Boudin, surprised by how young he appeared. The Cardian lord had massive shoulders, with long black hair spilling out from his helm. His beard was black as well, though it was cropped close to his skin in the same way King Tyden preferred. His nose was long and thin, with a cruel slash for a mouth and hard eyes that bored into mine. I sat up straighter as we halted ten feet apart, turning Angry casually to my left, hiding my injured leg.

  “You would be Lord Hadrack,” Lord Boudin said to me, his voice low and even, almost bored sounding.

  I nodded. “And you would be the turd-sucking Cardian who tried and failed to have me killed.”

  “It’s still early,” Lord Boudin said with a sniff. He focused on Fitz. “So, Your Highness, you wish to surrender?”

  Fitz snorted. “What gave you that preposterous idea?”

  Lord Boudin blinked twice, the only sign of surprise on his face, though I could see twin circles of red rising on his cheeks. “You do not wish to surrender?” he said in a flat voice, his eyes turning cold and calculating.

  “Of course not,” Fitz said, allowing himself a smug grin. “Why would I?”

  “Then you have wasted my time here,” Lord Boudin said curtly as he began to swing his horse around.

  “On the contrary,” Fitz said, raising a hand to stop him. “I am here to offer you terms for your surrender, Lord Boudin.”

  The young lord paused, this time unable to hide his surprise. “Why would I want to do that?” he finally asked, regaining his composure. “Your army is in tatters. You have lost.”

  “Have we?” Fitz said smugly. He turned and gestured behind him. “Does that look like an army in tatters to you?”

  Lord Boudin shifted his gaze to the east, and I saw his eyes widen at what he saw. I finally turned to look back, unable to stop myself from grinning. Fitz had been right—they did look good. I’d had my men working all night to strip the dead of clothing, armor, shields, and weapons. We’d then stuffed the clothing with straw, grass, dirt, and even dung, whatever we could find that would help form the outlines of armored soldiers. Ten ranks of pikemen were waiting to the east now, stretching from one end of the bottleneck to the other. Only the first two ranks were actually living, breathing men, though, with the back eight rows of stuffed figures leaning precariously against thin pole fences. But Lord Boudin didn’t know that.

  The ruse wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny for long, I knew, but from where we sat our horses with the sun in our eyes as it broke over the hills, it looked very convincing. Fitz had told me not long ago that men see what they expect to see, and I could only hope that my gamble here would work just as well as it had with Einhard.

  “I could just kill you right now,” Lord Boudin threatened with a growl as he stared at Fitz.

  My friend chuckled condescendingly. “You could certainly try to do that,” he agreed. “But before you make the attempt, please keep in mind who my companion is. Lord Hadrack’s reputation as a fearsome fighter is, I assure you, well deserved. I have told him to be nice during this meeting of ours, which I am well aware is a hardship for him. You see, a wolf is by its very nature a bloodthirsty beast, and I’m quite sure this one would be delighted if I let him off his leash, should you choose to attack me. Just don’t blame me if you don’t care for the results.”

  Lord Boudin glanced at me, assessing me silently before he looked over my shoulder, studying our defenses with shrewd eyes.

  “This rat turd isn’t going to accept your ter
ms, Highness,” I snarled in contempt, trying to regain the young lord’s attention. I was afraid that if he looked too hard, he might eventually see through my deceit. “We’re wasting our time with this man. He’s too stupid to realize he’s facing the total destruction of his army.” I smiled as I untied the canvas sack, holding the smile while white fire rippled down my left side. “And I am glad of it,” I added, tipping the sack over. My voice was thick from pain, which I could only hope Lord Boudin would mistake for passionate anger. The severed heads of the two Gander lords, as well as Pernissy’s gruesome remains, spilled out and landed on the ground, grinning grotesquely.

  I pointed at Lord Boudin. “Your head is the only one my sword has yet to take, you bastard. Let’s change that right now.” I grinned as the color slowly drained from the young lord’s face. “Send your men to die on our spears,” I taunted. “I dare you. Forget about all this talk of surrender. You’re so close to the throne you covet, so why stop now? Don’t worry that without Pernissy Raybold, any chance you had of keeping that throne is effectively gone. Just give in and let your arrogance, greed, and stupidity be the end of you.” I smiled my best wolfish grin. “Or are you just another Cardian bastard who runs the moment things get difficult?”

  Fitz looked at me crossly. “What did I tell you about this, Lord Hadrack?” he snapped. “You are not the one doing the negotiating here. I am. So please keep your mouth shut about matters that do not concern you.”

  I breathed out angrily, glaring at Lord Boudin, then I finally nodded. “Forgive me, Highness. My emotions got the better of me.”

  “See that it doesn’t happen again,” Fitz said. “Or it will be your head on the ground next.” He turned to Lord Boudin. “Now then, where were we? Ah yes, your surrender. I have forty thousand men at my disposal, and every one of them is very eager to spill Cardian blood. You couldn’t defeat me yesterday when I could only muster ten thousand, so I would say that your position today has clearly declined. Lay down your weapons and you have my word that your forces will be allowed safe passage back to Cardia.”