Ahren nodded. This was a logical step. Earth Paste could camouflage individual human scents and made hunting easier. It was very difficult to make, expensive and was only used when hunting dangerous game.
Perfect for hunting Blood Wolves, thought Ahren grimly.
The old man continued. ‘Selsena, you comb the forest and see if you can find its whereabouts. But in the name of the Three be careful’.
She answered them both and a feeling of comfort filled boy. Then she spun around on her hind hooves and disappeared into the forest in the space of two heartbeats.
Falk looked after her with concern, then looked over at his apprentice.
‘What are you still doing here? She says the coast is clear but once she’s gone from us we won’t know where the wolf is hiding. So stop dawdling and get back here in double quick time’.
Ahren didn’t need to be told twice. He threw on his woollen coat and quickly went out the door and into the silence of the drifting snow, which had fallen during the night and was now sticking. Within two hours he had two sealed jars of Earth Paste and was on the way home. Vera had asked him why he needed this expensive cream, but as Ahren wasn’t sure what he was allowed to say, he didn’t say anything but suggested she talk to Falk. The old woman could be very indignant if you kept information from her, so Ahren left quickly before she could grill him. He would have to spill the beans sooner or later.
Falk had already returned when he got back to the cabin. It turned out that Ahren could have told Vera about the Blood Wolf. His master had not only ordered three dozen battle arrows from the blacksmith but he had also informed the village council that entering the forest was forbidden and he had even sounded the bell in front of the Village Hall to lend his words more weight. The village would now be in a state of emergency until Falk rang the bell again. For the moment no-one could leave their house without good reason, and all activities in the forest were suspended.
‘The blacksmith said the arrows would be ready this afternoon. I have something else to take care of and will bring them with me when I return. You look after your equipment and especially your bow. I want you to string it with as much tension as possible. It’s not going to help us if you hit the target, but the arrow simply gets stuck in the thick hide’.
Before Falk could give an answer, Falk had disappeared again in a cloud of tumbling snowflakes.
He did as he was told and looked after his things. His master still hadn’t returned by the evening, and the boy was becoming nervous. Selena wasn’t back either and he began imagining the worst. What if the wolf had caught the magical horse? Or Falk? Or both? Once darkness set in, Ahren was in the grip of his own fantasies. With his inner eye he saw the whole village, lifeless and still. Doors had been torn off with brute force, the villagers slaughtered on the spot. Ahren was the only one left and a pair of red eyes were focused on his cabin, while in the darkness the Blood Wolf circled ever closer as he crept towards his prey. Ahren was beginning to flinch at every noise and caught himself holding on to his bow and arrow for dear life. He put both aside, lit the candle and tried to find the Void.
His master found him in the same position when he arrived back in the late evening. The candle had almost burned down, which meant that Ahren must have been there for several hours. The boy’s head had sunk down to his chest and he was snoring. The old man closed the door with a frown, then carefully wakened the boy by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder and gently shaking him.
The apprentice looked up at him sleepily and said in a daze, ‘you’re back late’.
‘The blacksmith took longer because he had never made battle arrows before. I decided to wait so that we’re ready whenever we need them’.
Ahren noticed two bundles on his master’s back. One was a fresh oilskin, slim in shape and undoubtedly held the arrows; the other was an enormous, filthy leather bag, lumpy in shape which made a clattering sound whenever Falk moved. He placed both on the table and sat down.
‘Did it work?’ he asked, indicating the candle.
Ahren nodded first, but then shook his head. ‘Not really. I did calm down but I didn’t achieve the Void. The spirits are strong now that the wolf is among them’.
Falk gave an understanding nod. The boy’s subconscious would be full of images of the beast they would soon be hunting. This was down to what he’d just experienced. It was quite an achievement that he had been able to calm himself to the extent of falling asleep on his own.
‘A start, said Falk and began unpacking the bundles.
One of them contained the reinforced arrows, as Ahren had predicted. He picked one up to look at it more closely. The shaft was stronger and broader than the usual hunting arrow and the tip was a dangerous looking triangle with its tip ending in a barb. The weapon was at least four times as heavy as the arrows Ahren was used to. He shuddered at the thought of being struck by one of these monsters. The idea that somewhere people would be shooting these at each other in a war was unbearable and unimaginable. He quickly put the murderous instrument aside and looked with interest at his master, who was now emptying the second bag.
Armoured neck collars, underarm protectors and leg guards appeared, everything made from a strange whitish material, and elaborately adorned. He reached forward to touch one of the pieces but Falk silently tapped him on the fingers and gave him a stern look. The master began to smear the pieces of armour with ash from the fireplace until they looked grey and dirty, almost like neglected iron that was just becoming rusty. Then he placed them carefully on a shelf and took the last piece out of the bag. Ahren gasped in surprise. It was a broadsword and scabbard. Broadswords were a rarity in Hjalgar, and as far as Ahren knew there were none in Deepstone. He never would have thought that his master possessed one.
‘Left over from a war I’d rather not think about’. That was all his master had to say about the matter. The rest of the evening passed by in silence.
The snow fell more heavily that night. Selsena returned in the morning and informed Falk that she hadn’t been successful in her search. He stood at the window and looked out at the white landscape with a frown.
‘The snow is already knee deep. A hunt is out of the question for the next few days. The villagers won’t be happy that work will be impossible during this time’, complained Falk. ‘But Selsena will keep on looking. The good news is that the Blood Wolf doesn’t seem to have made its lair in the vicinity. That’s certainly lessened the probability of immediate danger’.
He turned around to his apprentice. ‘We’ll spend the whole day practising with the battle arrows and when your arms are exhausted we’ll practise stalking. I want you to be as prepared as possible’.
The whole of the next week was taken up with this routine. Now and again Selsena sensed the rage of the monster and began to encircle its hiding place. Meanwhile Ahren grew used to the new weaponry and his master taught him more about the art of stalking. The villagers waited patiently but on the fifth evening one of the most senior of the village elders came to their door and asked how long the danger was likely to continue.
Falk knew that this situation could not continue indefinitely and when Selsena reported on the evening of the ninth day that she had found the creature’s lair, Falk announced, ‘right, whatever about the snow, tomorrow we hunt the Blood Wolf’.
Chapter 9
The weather at least was reasonably kind and so the three headed off under clear skies to confront the Dark One who was threatening their village community.
One thing was bothering Ahren. ‘Why is Selsena helping us? Couldn’t she just gallop away? Or can you control her with your thoughts?’
Falk rubbed his beard and answered. ‘Firstly, she’s been my companion for more years than I care to remember. We’d go through hell and high water for each other and have done that many times. Secondly, She, who feels created the Titejunanwa to protect the forest and all its inhabitants from the Dark Ones. It’s her vocation to help us’.
Ahr
en had to digest this information first. In the humans’ stories, unicorns only appeared as protectors of maidens, or proved the purity of a heart by boring into the subject with their horn. If it remained whole, then the person was without malice.
And there were rainbows. In every story with unicorns you had rainbows. The creature standing before Ahren and that Falk had told him about didn’t fit into the legends that he had heard.
When you looked at Selsena carefully, she appeared almost stocky. This was down to her broad chest which contained the three hearts. The breast cage under her hide seemed to be made of a continuous breastplate although Ahren couldn’t be sure. The one on her head could be clearly seen and gave the animal a much more martial air than what was described in the legends. They walked further northwards, far further north than Ahren had ever marched with Falk.
‘That’s why I hadn’t noticed the wolf’, Falk realized. ‘Since you’ve been with me, I’ve rarely come to this part of the forest. The wolf’s lair is still further north. It’s too far to get there and back in one day. We’re going to have to sleep in the open after the hunt’. And he pointed at the heavy rucksack on Ahren’s back. The apprentice was heavily weighed down today because they had taken far more equipment than usual, including many healing creams and bandages.
Ahren swallowed and tried to think of something else. He was carrying the lion’s share today partly because his master was wearing the pieces of armour that he had produced from the dirty bundle. Ahren’s theory was that he had hidden the bag somewhere in the forest but the old man had refused to confirm this. The neck piece protected the lower part of Falk’s head, and the metal pieces enclosed his underarms and lower legs. He’d tied the sword to the middle of his back so that his movement would be as free as possible. The snow was up to the middle of Ahren’s thighs and he followed in his master’s wake on a path that had been ploughed in the snow by Selsena’s quiet steps.
Selsena stopped around midday and Falk listened to her. He nodded and said, ‘this is it. Somewhere within a thousand paces is the lair, and the Blood Wolf is there. Let’s put on the Earth Paste’. Ahren fished out the two little jars as silently as possible and they began applying the brown paste, which oozed the smells of the forest. Meanwhile Falk ran through their strategy one more time.
‘Selsena will draw the beast out into the open. I’ll try and land one or two arrows. Ahren, you stay in the background. Only shoot if one of us gets into distress, you just have to hit it so that it’s distracted, then we can regroup. If we’re lucky my first arrow will do the trick and it’ll all be over in ten heartbeats. Then we can head back home’. He tried to smile encouragingly but he could only manage a grimace.
‘Understood?’
Ahred nodded and Selsena snorted.
‘Right, then. Let’s get this over with’.
They moved forward slowly. Step by step, then stopping and listening. The Elven horse corrected course a few times, whenever she located the wolf more precisely.
After what seemed like an eternity she stopped and bowed her head so that her horn was pointing towards an enormous, fallen tree. The roots of the colossus had ripped a huge clump of earth out of the ground, which now stuck up into the sky like a little mountain, laced with its pattern of roots. Below this was a dark cool hollow shaded from the sun and prying eyes. Something dark rose and fell at regular intervals and Ahren knew that his was the wolf’s chest.
Slowly they separated. Falk moved to the left, Selsena to the right and Ahren stayed where he was until they had formed a semi-circle above the hollow, each ten paces from the next. With shaking fingers Ahren took an arrow and lightly tensed the bowstring so that he would be quick off the mark when the time was right. It was biting cold and yet his hands were damp with sweat and he could hear the blood roaring in his ears. He felt at the mercy of the murderous creature – something he had never felt before. If Falk and Selsena were to fail, then he too would be killed by the Blood Wolf. He felt he was handing over control of his life, which was almost more frightening than the death machine they were about to attack. If he hadn’t trusted his master quite so much, he would have fled by now. Instead, he looked one last time into the calm grey eyes of the old Forest Guardian, who looked back at him before deliberately selecting an arrow and setting it in position. A short nod of his grey head and it began.
Selsena stood on her hind legs and let forth a loud neigh which contained within it a wave of defiance which she communicated through empathy to her partners. Ahren felt the strong impulse within him and ground his teeth in agitation.
The wolf reacted immediately. In one flowing movement it was up, throwing its head back and answering the challenge with a loud, nerve-wracking howl. Snow fluttered from the trees and Ahren’s teeth hurt.
So far, so good, he thought and held his breath. The creature had reacted as they had expected and already Falk let an arrow fly, which headed straight for the wolf’s invitingly upstretched neck. The arrow landed with a horrible crunch and Ahren was on the point of cheering when the wolf spun around and tried to bite the arrow, which hadn’t seemed to have done it any harm.
Falk shot again, this time straight at the eyes, which the wolf had fixed on him. Again, there was another horrible noise as the arrow hit one of the burning red half-moons, extinguishing it forever. But the angle was wrong and the arrow lodged downward behind the cheek instead of boring into the brain.
The next part of the plan involved an assault by Selsena, who was to land on the wolf’s back and distract it. She was already racing for the Dark One but the wolf turned around and plunged with incredible speed towards Falk. Falk fired another arrow, which hit the Blood Wolf in the breast and a second later the monster took an almighty leap while letting forth a furious howl of pain. The black body of fangs and claws was on top of Falk in a fury of blood lust before he had the chance to shoot off another arrow. With a furious growl the fangs sank in and it began to bite.
Seeing the situation, Ahren screamed with all his might as he prepared an arrow, but he was afraid to shoot in case he hit Falk. Selsena was still at least five paces away when the Blood Wolf raised its head, the left arm of the old man between its powerful jaws, and it tossed its head from side to side so that Falk was thrown about like a rag doll. Branches were smashed and his master’s body, which was being tossed wildly around the place, was rammed at least once into the trunk of a tree. Then Selsena, who was less hesitant than Ahren, attacked. With a neigh of fury she rammed her horn all the way into the wolf’s flank and threw it down. Falk was thrown, screaming upwards in an arc before landing with a thud on the forest floor. Before the beast could catch Selsena, she had jumped away to prepare herself for another assault.
Now Ahren understood what his master had tried to explain to him. The Blood Wolf was much faster and stronger in close combat. No matter how terrifying the ramming attacks of the Titejunanwa might be, she would have practically no chance of defending herself once the wolf had her in its grip.
An evil intelligence flashed forth from the Dark One’s remaining eye. It made no move to follow the magical horse but turned to the injured Falk instead. In frustration Selsena emitted another challenge, but this time it seemed to have no effect on the black animal. Without hesitating, it fell upon Falk again, who had turned on his back and was laboriously trying to draw his broadsword, as his arrow had been snapped by the wolf in the first attack.
Ahren saw in horror that the wolf would be faster, much faster. Without thinking, he tensed the bow as far as he could and let the heavy arrow fly. The missile struck the wolf on the right shoulder, just as it was looming over Falk. More surprised than injured, the monster turned its head. The Blood Wolf hesitated, unsure as to whether it should finish off the prey that was lying there invitingly or if it should make for the second archer. Ahren shot a second arrow, which landed harmlessly in the beast’s hide while he screamed incoherently, less as a challenge and more as a way of counteracting his rising panic. The wolf made
a decision and prepared to spring forward, which would have brought it effortlessly onto the defenceless apprentice, but Falk finally pulled the broadsword out of its scabbard.
‘Paladinim theos duralas’, he called and the Dark One threw itself in a rage at him.
Falk plunged the sword into the beast’s chest but because he was half under the animal it didn’t penetrate far. He couldn’t release his hands from the grip without losing his final weapon and didn’t have enough strength to push the blade in deeper. The wolf lowered its head past the steel which was sticking into it and was about to rip Falk’s head off. Sobbing, Ahren set another arrow in order somehow to help his master, when Selsena came galloping up. A flash of light from the low setting sun shone through the branches and caught the horns of the silver animal before the armoured head smashed into flesh and bones and with an almighty crash, the wolf was thrown forward and down into the old Forest Guardian’s broadsword blade. Smoothly the sword slipped as far as the hilt into the wolf’s breast.
With a final howl, and as if struck by lightning, the wolf collapsed in a heap, pulling Selsena with it, as her horn was stuck in the creature’s spine. An unnatural silence filled the air for a moment, broken only by the irregular panting of the terrified apprentice, who was rooted to the spot, afraid of what he might find in the hollow.
It was only when the body of the wolf gave a sudden jerk and he heard a muffled, ‘boy, a little help would be great’, that he came out of his paralysis and hurried to help his trapped master.
Selsena, who must have been stunned for a moment, rose unsteadily and loosened her horn with a disgusting, squelching sound from the flesh of her enemy. Her bony head was spattered with blood and bits of the wolf, and Ahren looked away with a shudder.
Whoever made up these stories about unicorns had never seen a Titejunanwa in action.
He got down to work with a groan and started pulling Falk out from under the wolf’s corpse. Sometime later and with a combined effort they succeeded in freeing the old Forest Guardian. Once he was up on his feet again, he pulled the blade out of the cadaver, wiped it dry on the hide and murmured to the sword, ‘you haven’t let me down yet’, before slipping it back into its scabbard.
Ahren- the 13th Paladin Page 14
