Wolf Blade: A Sword and Sorcery Fantasy Harem

by Marco Frazetta

  “I will do whatever I must.”

  “I will follow him, into any battle,” Quistainn said.

  “But you must become a priest,” I said, “you are summoned by your order.”

  “Yes, in time, but if there are foul gods at work, and the lives of all Skaldeans are at risk. This is my highest duty above all else.”

  “We should send a message to King Albrecht immediately. Should we not, Dorgramu?”

  “Yes. I should think so. Speak to your father on that. As Hammer of Wolf Rein, it is his right and duty to communicate with the crown on military matters. I will continue researching what I can, and ask any of my spirit allies if there is any more information on this rising dragon king.”

  “Father!” I yelled, barging into his quarters in our manor. “Finally, I find you.”

  He and Yorbrand turned to me. They were leaning over a large map spread out on a table. “Well then, you’ve found me. What is it?”

  I hurried to the table. “The black blade I returned with, the one I took from the Orc warlord. It was a dragonsteel blade, with runes in the ancient dragon tongue.”

  “Neither you nor I are wizards like Dorgramu. Tell me plainly. What is the matter?”

  “It was not the Orc Warlord who was gathering the great Orc horde in the north. It was a dragon king, one who lives deep below Skald. We think the horde will go on gathering. That it will invade.”

  “And that blade is proof of this?”

  “Aye, Dorgramu has it now, if you should like to see the runes glow afire and stir as a snake does.”

  “Your word is enough.” He ran his hand along his massive beard. “Had I not received two scout reports just last night, it might not have been. But I received them. Three different Orc bands passing silently through Ironrise and Alfheim, heading north toward Jarkandur. At least they are not raiding along the way as they were before. They saw that there are still men who resist them in Skald. In that your victory was not in vain, Rothan. Still, it must be true. Skald will soon see an invasion of a horde unlike we have seen in a hundred years. Aye, it must be so.” He looked at me for a moment, through his bushy snow white brows. “A good leader does not look away from bad news. Remember that, Rothan.”

  “Yes, father. You speak true. We should send word to King Albrecht immediately.”

  He stood tall and placed a hand on my shoulder. “A good leader also does not react to bad news while he is agitated by fear, anger or any other strong humor.”

  “But father, you said so yourself, the Orcs go on gathering. They could move upon us any day now. King Albrecht must know that these Orc bands are not just traveling orcs, but that they are being commanded by a dragon king.”

  “King Albrecht will know, but we must think carefully how this war is to be fought, how we can convince him that it was his command that sent armies moving, and not ours.”

  “King Albrecht is not Jarl Bardawulf. He has always been just, and it is he who can give the word to all the Jarls, to rally them around him.”

  “You do not know the king the way I do.”

  “This is about me becoming Jarl here someday, isn’t it? About how to position ourselves, how to play politics. You still hold to that ambition.”

  “It is not! It is about all of us keeping our heads.”

  “If you will not perform the duty to Skald, then I will.”

  I stormed out of the chamber, and headed straight to Dorgramu’s. He had ravens and other wizardly methods of sending messages. It might be hours, perhaps moments for the message to reach the king, and I would not let anything slow down the preparations for war and cost men’s lives.

  The sky was still midday bright as I walked down the steps of Red Hill. A voice called behind me. “Rothan, you’re headed out again? You seem worried.” It was Bellabel calling after me from the doorway.

  “I must speak with Dorgramu, to see if he has learned anything new about… about the sword I brought with me. Get some rest. You have been tending to me… and to Kyra though the journey north was as rough for you as for all of us.”

  “Will you at least try this apple dish I made? It is a pie baked with apples in it. I prepared it with Eliette. There are many exotic dishes such as these I am learning to make.”

  I smiled at her. Truly, the gods put many burdens on me, yet they smiled upon me as well. “Save me a slice. I’ll have it when I return.”

  She nodded with a sweet smile and I hurried down the steps. My mind was racing, formulating plans—How many men could we muster? What Jarldom would be the first to face the horde? These and other thoughts filled my mind when I spotted something peculiar far above me in the clouds. There were a flock of birds circling in the sky. They seemed different than the crows and hawks which frequented Red Hill. Then they began swooping down at an astonishing speed.

  They were headed straight for me and as they pierced the sky I could see that they were no ordinary birds. They were monstrously large and had riders atop them. I sprang back and drew my sword. It flashed in the sunlight.

  Massive wings kicked up dust as they slowed the birds descent until they touched the ground. They were warhawks, and only one castle in all of Skald kept them.

  “Rothan the Wolf Blade, we come in the name of King Albrecht,” the one riding the largest bird said. His mount was no bird at all. It had a massive eagle’s head, yet its body was that of a gigantic lion. Its wings spanned so wide they could envelope a large house.

  “You must be Platina the Winged Panther.” I spoke at the rider, my hair still tossing from her mount’s powerful wings. “I was just about to send a message to King Albrecht. Our court wizard must have done so before me. Welcome.” I bowed my head to the knight who addressed me. Her helm was sculpted in the form of an eagle about to take flight, and her shoulder plates were in the form of a great lion paw each. Her plate was white, with the gold cloak of the King’s guard. Her face was striking, angled features that were an astonishing sky blue, with hair the white of pearls cascading down her neck. Behind her were two riders who must have been related, as they looked almost the same person, yet one was male, the other female. Both had the same high cheekbones and long tapering jaws. Both had long midnight blue hair. “And that must be the sorcerer twins. Caldur and Caldia.” These three were accompanied by five other Hawk riders, all bearing the gold cloaks and white armor of the king’s guard, along with long white lances.

  “You know us,” Platina the griffon rider went on, “so you must know that we ride with the king’s authority. King Albrecht summons you to his presence. Now put away your blade.”

  I sheathed my sword. “Of course. If the king summons me, I will be there as soon as possible. Are the preparations for the defense of Skald already beginning? I did not know you could reach Wolf Rein in such short a time, even on your mounts. There are many things I need to discuss with him. Let me make some preparations with my father, the Hammer, as well as with the Jarl of Wolf Rein. Time is of the essence, and we can muster all the fighting men of Wolf Rein in time if we act now. Perhaps it would be best if we all—”

  “You do not understand,” her voice cracked like a whip, “you are to come with us immediately. This very moment.”

  “Now? But there is much to prepare here. Surely you know a war is coming.”

  Platina looked back at her wizard companions, as if losing patience and silently consulting them. I felt my body tensing as she looked back at me with disdain. “You truly are a country halfwit. You are to come with us now, alone—and in chains.” She threw a pair of massive chains at my feet. They sparkled as if they had been newly forged and polished.

  “Well,” I said as I looked down at them. “His majesty likes even his chains in good order.” I stalled with the jape, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening. “There must be some confusion, Platina. I have done nothing but serve the king loyally.”

  “Yes, there is much confusion. Let me help you, halfwit: the king commands I bring you, Rothan son of Gustaff,
before him in chains. Now put them on.”

  “Platina the Winged Panther has a reputation for being honorable, why would you take me a prisoner when I served the king by sending him his enemies’ head?”

  “What I have a reputation for, Wolf blade, is for never losing a battle, and for not questioning my king’s orders.”

  I began to understand that there was no reasoning with her. She was a soldier through and through, and I did not begrudge her for it. That did not mean however, that I would not tear her entrails out if need be. “You’ve never lost a battle huh? Well…” my beast roared out of me, twisting my body into its monstrous war form. “There’s a fist time for everything.” I drew my sword and readied myself.

  “You damn fool!” Platina’s massive griffon rose into the air, its wings beating so hard it felt like the sky itself was bending under their strength. “Surrender now!” Platina aimed her lance. Its sharp blade crackled with magic, then unleashed a bolt of sizzling lightning. I leapt back, but still felt its cold heat as a blaze that left a crater where I had stood.

  “Is that how you would fight? The great Winged Panther? Shooting little squirts of magic like a squire with a bow?”

  The griffon landed, its massive claws pawing the ground. “Alright, Wolf Blade, have it your way.”

  “Platina,” Caldia the wizard said, “his grace commanded we bring him back alive.”

  “He did, Caldia, but he did not say anything about needing to bring him back with all his limbs.”

  Platina stood tall in her white armor, the wings of her helm rising, matching how her cloak billowed behind her as her mount still beat its wings. Even stirring them lightly kicked up a small gale.

  She reached for her sword and was about to draw it when a voice yelled behind me. “Rothan! Rothan, we’re by your side!” It was Bellabel, and Quistainn behind her. Bellabel held her hands out and they went up in flame. They swirled and glowed. I could feel the heat though she stood some forty feet from me.

  “Let him go, or I burn the whole lot of you!”

  Platina looked at her then back at me. “You really need this wench to save you?”

  “Leave her out of this!”

  “Caldia, Caldur, show those two a taste of real magic.”

  “Yes, Platina,” they said back in unison.

  “No!” I yelled.

  The twin wizards raised their hands as if they were mirror images of one another. From Caldia’s wand emerged what I could only describe as a tornado, a vortex of purple energy that was a focused chaos. From Caldur’s there emerged a beam, pure and straight, glowing a deep purple. The tornado clashed with Bellabel’s flames and consumed them. The beam collided with Quistainn’s golden energy shield, and pierced right through it. Both my friends were hurled back in a burst of flames and purple rage.

  “No!” somehow I leapt all the steps up to them in two giant leaps.

  “Rothan…” Bellabel said as she struggled to get up. “Don’t go…”

  “This is my fault…” I muttered.

  “Give the command,” Quistainn said and staggered to one knee. His armor singed, his mail broken in places, “I will fight them to the death if you wish.”

  Suddenly Kyra emerged from the doorway, sword in hand. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Kyra, don’t. Calm down.”

  “Another one,” Platina laughed. “Well then, would you like to have my companions’ true strength rain down on them now, or will you put the chains on?”

  “Enough!” I yelled to her as I stood. “I will come with you willingly.”

  “Hurry then. Try anything and we will destroy these friends of yours. We have no orders to keep anyone alive but you.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said to my three companions. “Talk to Dorgramu, and my father. They’ll know what to do. Above all, do not come looking for me. King Albrecht is just. There must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

  My legs felt heavy as I plodded down the stairs and my face felt a strange numbness as my wolf features faded and I became human once again.

  Platina’s mount stared at me, with a piercing eagle eye whose pupil alone was the size of my head. I stood before the winged riders feeling the heavy silence between us.

  “Caldur,” the gryphon rider said, “the chains.”

  “Of course,” the wizard twin answered. He unmounted from his giant eagle, his legs a flicker of grace. His bright robe kicked in the air just a moment as he landed, then walked toward me, glowing Idochron staff in one hand, sparkling chains in the other.

  He held them out to me in a slender arm draped in a shining white brocade robe.

  “Well then,” he said, “your wrists.”

  For a moment I only stared into his eyes. I recalled being bound in chains at our defeat in the battle of Hofgrail, that fateful day when my brother perished and Skald was brought under the Empire’s heel. I recalled the iron bars for a door in my coliseum quarters in Kenessos, then murdering for the sport of others. The young wizard shuddered for a moment, almost imperceptible, his face quirking ever so slightly. One thing I knew for sure, in that moment, he reeked of fear.

  My eyes roamed to where my companions stood, then back to the young wizard. There was no choice. I opened my palms and held my hands out to him.

  Clank. The chains snapped on my wrists. He took another set and wrapped them around my arms, binding them tight.

  I grunted in pain, my knees buckling, a strange discomfort twisting in my gut.

  “You did not know, did you?” the wizard said, his intellectual curiosity overwhelming the hint of pity in his voice, “the effect of true silver on your kind? It weakens you. It weakens you greatly.” He wielded an invisible force so that he hoisted me onto the warhawk with a few gestures of his hand. I was bound to the huge creature with more silver chains. The warhawk’s saddle dug into my back. Its smooth feathers brushed against my arms. I could only grind my teeth and look about me helplessly.

  Rising into the sky on great wings, chained and a prisoner, this is how I saw my companions—the two women I loved and my truest friend—this is how I saw them fade from me.

  Hourne: The world of Wolf Blade

  From the Author

  Hail, Skaldean warrior! And thanks for reading the first book in Rothan’s saga. The best way you can help me continue telling his tale is by leaving a review right here.

  Amazon rewards authors when they receive five-star reviews. The more we get, the more Amazon will show Wolf Blade to potential readers—Skald’s forces will grow and we will bring glory to Fenris once more!

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  Copyright © 2018 by Marco Frazetta

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Do not sue me. I am just a guy making up cool stuff.

 

 

 

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