by James Dale
“Fetch Lord Farra!” Annawyn wailed.
“At once, my queen,” Captain d’Kenna nodded. The Hammer’s captain had seen the after-math using the Highsword caused his king, though this one was the worst yet.
The healer Lord soon arrived and looked with horror upon him, but she quickly used her power to restore Jack back to health. When she withdrew her hands from his face, they were shaking from the effort. “Get him something to eat,” she said quietly, as High Lord Perigaen helped her to her feet.
“No more cook fires, Jack Braedan,” Anna informed him, holding him tightly as he sat up. “I will not stand by and watch you do that to yourself again. Your queen commands it.”
“The Staffclave has other means to add strength and speed to the army,” Perigaen informed him. “There is no need for you to burden yourself this way.”
“We will reach Tanaevar when we reach it,” Morgan added. “It is pointless for you to kill yourself getting us there.”
Although everyone was in agreement Braedan’s days of lighting cook fires was at an end, the next day the army marched almost thirty-five miles, stopping only when ordered to halt well after dark. With seemingly no end to their energy, the next day they marched thirty more miles and made camp on the edge of the Silverwood. On the third day since eating the “High King’s Stew” as forces of Doridan now called it, they crossed Isinar Ford before stopping. The army had traveled almost one hundred twenty miles in four days, a feat no one among them would have believed possible.
“I do not know how long this…whatever you did will last, King Jack,” Morgan said to him that evening as Jack, Anna and Dorad, along with the Ailfar and Kings Rhor’dal and Haerold, joined him in his tent for supper and council. “But the army has traveled almost a quarter of the way to Tanaevar in four days. I am beginning to believe the soles of their boots will give out before their strength wains.”
“I would never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” Haerold agreed. “I knew my lads were tough but…Remarkable, that’s all I can say.”
“I think I have a simpler way of doing it again when it wears off,” Jack informed him.
“No!” Anna and Ailicia cried as one.
“Unless it’s cutting up bread, I do not want to hear it,” Ara’fael added. “I still have that box waiting for you.”
“So, what news do we have from the others?” asked Jack, deflecting their concern. It really would be simple. The next time he would just have to use Yhswyndyr on their stores of dried meat.
“Cilidon will be at Tanaevar within the next three days,” Ara’fael informed him. “There journey has been without incident.”
“And Theros?” asked Jack.
“Perigaen assures me they will not be far behind the Ailfar,” Morgan replied, pouring him a glass of wine. “They have seen so sign of the Kadinar.” He did not need to add whether that boded good or ill, for no one knew.
“Tarsus and Thonicil?” Braedan asked.
“The last report was they had reached the ruins of Arkand,” the Duke of Dorshev said. “If they are not…delayed…they should link up with the Galekindar soon. I will ask the High Lord in the morning if he has heard anything more from them.”
“It is all going according to your plan, Jack,” Dorad remarked. “Tomorrow or the next day, the fleets of Annoth should reach the Gulf of Nor. I almost wish I had sailed with Kirstaen. Watch-ing Norgarth burns warms my heart.”
An old saying remembered from his days as a Ranger sprang into Jack’s head. “If your attack is going too well, you’re probably walking into an ambush.” “So what’s next then?” he asked.
“What is next is…we have a nice quite meal,” Anna replied patting his hand. “Tomorrow we will turn east and use the Ruwe Mountains to protect our northern flank. In a few days, if the army’s boots hold out…we will cross Mountain Bridge.”
“Once across, Rhyn plans to send a company of White Horse to secure the Old Ford and await our arrival,” Morgan continued. “This time of year the water should barely reach the top the infantry’s boots.”
“So stop worrying and enjoy your dinner,” Anna ordered him. “Your queen commands it.”
Army broke camp early the next morning, with still no outward sign they were beginning to tire. With the Ruwe Mountains to their north, they turned east toward Tanaevar. It was about noon when a rider from the 9th Red Horse galloped into the center of the column and reigned his mount to a halt.
“My Lord King,” he saluted. “Scouts have sighted wolves in the mountains!”
“About time,” Jack replied. He had been wondering when the packs would finally arrive. He had been searching for Snow Dancer with his thoughts since leaving Dorshev, but had yet to sense the young wolf. “Captain d’Kenna, muster a squad and…”
“We can deal with them easily enough should they attack our flank,” the Red Horse assured him confidently. “No need to for you to…”
“We don’t need to deal with them,” Jack informed him. “We need to go greet them. Go fetch High Lord Perigaen and meet us back here.”
“Yes, my King,” the Red Horse soldier saluted, and rode off without another word.
Perigaen and Duke Morgan soon returned with the rider. Along with them rode the Lord’s Dhoran, Rhai’dan, Faendil and Shaeron. It seemed all the Staffclave in their company would go out to meet the wolves, though only the High Lord had been invited. It was not surprising. The Staff-clave did as they pleased no matter what Jack wanted. “So, are these your wolf friends we are going out to meet?” the High Lord asked.
“If they aren’t, the Red Horse can deal with them easily enough,” Jack shrugged. He had little doubt it was Snow Dancer. A wolf pack wouldn’t let itself be spotted in during the day if they were under the dark-King’s sway.
“We would like to see your wolf packs as well,” King Rhor’dal announced, riding up with Haerold following close behind him.
“I have never met one that wasn’t trying to rip my throat out.” The King of Amorhad added.
“If you want that to end, King Haerold,” Jack remarked wryly, “perhaps it would be best if you removed your cloak?” The King of Amorhad was wearing a shining white pelt from the first wolf he’d killed as a young boy in the mountains of his homeland.
“Bad form?” Haerold grinned. He released clasp holding it in place and tossed it to Dornal. “Better, my Lord?”
“Safer at least,” Jack smiled.
It was a party of almost one hundred riders that followed the Red Horse messenger north of the column. Eaudreuil lifted his head and sniffed the wind as the reach the foothills.
“I can sense him now as well,” Jack said patting his neck.
“His mind has grown stronger,” Arrinor remarked. “Perhaps it is because his pack is no longer bound by the Bloodstone?”
“Perhaps,” Jack nodded. “Wait here everyone,” he said, turning to the company. “Arrinor and I will go meet them.”
“I am coming too!” Anna said, a split second before Ailicia.
“Are you certain it is them?” Captain d’Kenna asked warily. He didn’t like the fact his king meant to ride out to meet a pack of wolves unguarded.
“Oh, it’s them,” Jack assured him. “Lady Ara’fael can ride with us for protection, he knows her scent.” “And it has grown stronger since we left Dorshev.” He mindspoke.
Arrinor stifled a laugh as the Spellweaver scowled at him. “Careful, Jack Braedan,” she muttered.
Arrinor started in surprise.
“Maybe you should have been better guarding your thoughts better all these years?” Jack laughed, patting his arm.
Braeden dismounted, and offered a hand to his wife, then he, Anna, Ailicia, Arrinor and Ara’fael moved off about fifty yards from the rest of the company. Captain d’Kenna drew his sword and laid it across his knees. Just in case.
“Come on out Snow,” Jack said, “I’ve brought some new friends to meet you.”
“That one with the
shaggy beard has the scent of war on him,” Snow Dancer growled, rising from his crouch in the tall grass. The young wolf had grown over the summer! He was no longer all legs and paws but nearing full adulthood. A dozen more wolves revealed themselves as well. Among them was Winter Stream.
“Peace, pack leader,” she replied. “If he rides with Great Lion and Fire Mane, his days of hunting us are over.”
“They are,” Jack assured him, kneeling down in the grass and holding out his hand for the wolf to sniff. “He is a member of Fire Mane’s pack now. He will be a friend of the wolves, and a fierce companion.”
The young wolf, sniffed Jack’s hand, “I smell the truth of your words. Snow Dancer will be his pack mate. You have been gone for many moons wolf-brother.”
“And you have grown since I saw you last, young one,” Jack smiled, reaching up to scratch him between his ears.
“He has,” Winter barked softly with pride. “Snow Dancer is the leader of all who do not follow Red Slayer. The Son of Long Tooth Shadow Hunter holds a high place among the packs.”
“Jack,” Ailicia said, coming to his side, she dropped down in the grass and held her arms out to Snow Dancer. There were tears in her eyes. “Tell him I am so…so sorry about Long Tooth.” She could only speak to him in a wolf-dream.
“Tell Morning Flower to mourn no longer,” Snow said, allowing the Ailfar princess to embrace him. “I have…seen Long Tooth in my dreams. He sits at the feet of the Great Maker in a position of honor.”
Ailicia smiled happily and hugged Snow Dancer harder when Jack replayed his words.
Winter Stream padded over to Anna, and to her delight, lay down and allowed the Queen of Doridan to pet her shaggy coat. “Well isn’t this a lovely little reunion,” the Lady Ara’fael said, interrupting. “If we don’t mean to roll around in the grass all day or play fetch the stick, maybe we should go introduce them to the Staffclave?”
“Do you know what he calls you?” Arrinor asked.
“No,” Ara’fael admitted grudgingly. Though her ability to Mindspeak had been revealed, it was not nearly as powerful as Arrinor’s or Jack’s.
“Storm Mother,” Arri grinned.
“Storm Mother?” the Spellweaver asked, then smiled. “I like that.”
“Right you are, Storm Mother,” Jack said, rising from his knees. “Let’s go introduce our wolf friends.”
The remaining wolfs sat down on their haunches as Winter and Snow padded alongside Jack as he walked back to the company to make introductions. It was a sight no living Lord or King of the Whesguard had ever witnessed. Wolves, long time enemy of men, walking without fear alongside a humans in friendship. Perigaen and Lord Dhoran and Lord Rhai’dan, bowed to the pair and dutifully allowed Snow to sniff their palms, getting their scent. Satisfied, the young pack leader bounded off with a bark to snap at Eaudreuil’s hooves playfully. The Val’anna stallion pranced and feigned to charge at him then knelt down and allowed Snow to nuzzle his neck.
“He is young still, Great Lion,” Winter sighed. “But strong. He slew several beast-men before sunrise when we came across them in the mountains.”
“There are grim’Hiru in the mountains?” Arrinor said, alarmed.
“Were,” Winter corrected. “They thought us still bound to Red Slayer, until we fell upon them and killed all their kind.”
“They are all dead,” Jack informed the company, telling them what the packs had done already to aid their cause.
“Any wolf that kills grim’Hiru is a friend of mine,” Haerold announced with a shrug, and just like that, Amorhad’s fierce King was welcomed into Green Valley Pack.
“We will remain in the mountains and guard Fire Mane’s pack,” Winter informed Braedan, “no beast-man will trouble you from the north, Great Lion.”
“Thank you, Winter,” Jack said, kneeling down to hug the large female. “When we get to the Land of the Storm King, I will introduce you to more of my friends.”
“Come Snow Dancer,” Winter cuffed, disapprovingly. “It is not fitting you should behave like a youngling pup in front of the Long Sticks.”
“We will fight together soon, Stout Heart, wolf-brother,” Snow said, leaving Eaudreuil to take his place at Winter’s side.
“So Great Lion promises,” Eaudrueil nickered. “Though he seems to be taking his time about it.”
“The Long Sticks are powerful pack mates,” Winter said, as she and Snow moved off to rejoin the other wolves. “You may defeat Red Slayer yet.”
“We may indeed,” Jack nodded.
“Tell Storm Mother her wish is granted,” Winter said, pausing to look back at him.
“What wish?” Ara’fael asked, removing the last shred of doubt she could Mindspeak once and for all.
“A man cub grows within Fire Mane,” Winter said, with a canine grin. “By the time the snows thaw, there will be a young lion added to the packs.” With a howl of delight, Winter Stream raced off toward the mountains, Snow Dancer hurrying to catch her.
Jack stood stunned for a moment, then picked his startled wife up and swung her around happily.
“Put me down, Jack Braedan!” Anna laughed. “Whatever has gotten into you?”
“Is there something you need to tell me?” he whispered, hugging her tightly.
“What do you…” then her eyes widened. “How did…”
“What is going on?” Morgan asked.
“You are going to be a great Uncle,” Arrinor grinned. “Can…can he call me Uncle Arri?”
“And Aunt Ally!” Ailicia laughed, hugging Anna and Jack both.
“It seems there will be an heir to the Throne of Immer, come spring,” the Lady Ara’fael informed the company.
Her announcement was met with a rousing cheer.
“Anna,” Jack said, suddenly overcome with worry. My God! His wife was pregnant! And he was taking her off to war!
“No, you will not!” Anna said, placing her hand on Siegebreaker’s hilt. “You will not send me back! Despite, my…condition. A Horsemaiden Queen’s place in battle is at her husband’s side.”
“We will discuss this in private,” Jack replied, caressing her cheek.
“And you will lose this discussion in private,” Anna smiled, placing her hand over his.
“I will guard the queen with my life!” Captain d’Kenna said, dropping to his knee before them. “I will brave dragon fangs and the fires of hell before any….”
“Oh, stand up Captain,” Anna smiled. “Winter said I have until the snows thaw. Jack will win this war before I even begin to show.”
The ride back to the column was festive with the revelation the queen was with child. Not even the coming war could dampen their mood. All save Jack. At any other time, under any other circumstance, he would have been beside himself with joy. The woman he loved more than life was carrying his child. But with each passing day, with each passing mile, with every step they took, she would be carrying their unborn son closer to the most dangerous place on earthe. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to have Ara’fael stuff her in a sack and send her back to Dorshev or Perigaen bind her with his staff and ship her off to Lordsisle. How was he every going to be able to concentrate on defeating Graith and the Bloodstone when his every waking thought would be spent worrying about Anna and their child?
Judas Bloody Hell.
“I’ll be right back, my love,” Jack said, and pulled on Eaudreuil’s reigns to slow the stallion. Captain d’Kenna looked as if he would fall back to join him for just an instant, then remained by the queen’s side. It seemed the High King’s Hammer had a new charge to protect. That was perfectly fine with Braedan. It would easy his worry to have the Hammer added to the Horse-maidens guarding her every step. A little at least.
Jack fell in beside Lord Faendil.
“I know what you mean to ask, High King,” the Seer Lord informed him.
“Did you know?” he said, asking anyway.
“It was one possibility,” Faendil replied. “A probability given the
amount of time you and…”
“I am in no mood for jokes,” Jack growled.
“Then yes, I knew,” the Lord admitted. “There are at least three possible out comes to…”
“If you allow me to make a decision that places Anna and my son in even the slightest danger, without warning me,” Jack interrupted coldly. “Even if that decision saves the entire flaming world…when it is over, I will hunt you down and beat you to death with your own staff. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” Faendil nodded.
“Good,” Jack nodded. “Because I like you Faendil ad’Colaean. But I love my wife.” He flicked Eaudreuil’s reigns and rejoined his queen.
“What were you discussing with Lord Faendil?” Anna asked. She had watched him of course.
“How does John Ellgenn Braedan sound, my love?” he said, smiling though he wanted to weep with worry.
“I love it!” Anna smiled. “I love you, Jack Braedan.”
He would burn the world to ash to protect her.
“I will hold you to that,” a small, taunting voice whispered on the edge of his mind.
“And you with it, you son of a bitch,” Jack vowed.
“We shall see Son of Bra’Adan,” the voice laughed. “We shall see.”
The days passed swiftly. With Snow Dancer and the wolves protecting their northern flank, there was no sign of trouble from the Ruwe Mountains. The 9th Red Horse sent reports of crows circling to the north on occasion, but no sign of grim’Hiru ever appeared. No living sign anyway. The miles passed swiftly as well. When they reached Mountain Bridge, Perigaen brought word the attack on Norgarth was finished. King Urgiss was dead, slain by Prince Kirstaen when the Annothians stormed his palace. In a single night, they had burned his fleet, and every Black Priest was being hunted down and put to the sword, their temples put to the torch. Most of the city had been spared. It was under the governorship of an Annothian admiral while the rest of the fleet sailed north to Denegarth. Ten days since leaving Dorshev and half the distance covered to Tanaevar, Jack’s “stew” finally began to wear off, but true to his word, Perigaen and the other Lords supplemented their meals with Lord Craft and the pace of the Doridanian army slowed only slightly.
