Arthur stopped as the wall of soldiers parted for him to step through. As he did, he saw the head servant turn and open the front door before stepping to the side.
“Thank you, Peter,” Arthur said, stopping before the door. “How is she?”
“In labour, Winter Baron,” Peter said. “I would hurry inside.”
“Of course. Keep an eye on things out here, please.”
“Of course, Winter Baron,” he nodded.
“Reginald, stay.”
The ictharr growled in agreement, turning to face the other way and sitting beside Peter. The head servant petted him.
Entering the spacious lobby of the house, Arthur let go of his son’s paw when he heard the door shut behind him. Three servants, all eager to give him details on the birth, rushed forwards.
“Winter Baron, Winter Baron!” cried one, taking his helmet from him and placing it on the dining table. “We are reaching the end of labour. Your wife is on the verge of giving birth!”
“You’ll need to come with me if you wish to be present, Winter Baron,” another said.
“Of course,” Arthur nodded, hastily turning around and placing his grey paws on his son’s shoulders. “Ragnee, Daddy has to go get the surprise ready. Be good and wait here with Klaus and Gertrude. I’ll let you know when it’s prepared, okay?”
“What’s the surprise?” he asked.
“Not right now, Ragnee. Be good and you can ride Reginald with me later, okay?” Arthur said, turning and racing upstairs with one of the servants. “Look after him, please!”
Moving quickly across the wooden landing to the bedroom door, Arthur could hear his wife’s cries of pain coming from inside. In addition, he could hear the sounds of the doctors working their hardest to facilitate the birth perfectly, talking frantically to one another in medical jargon.
“Here we go, Winter Baron,” the servant said, pushing the wooden door open.
Before him, the bedroom was a madhouse – tables had been brought in on which to place medical equipment and at least 10 wolves were buzzing around the room. Two doctors, both highly esteemed practitioners of medicine, instructed their subordinates on what to do.
“Ah, Winter Baron,” one of the doctors said. “You might want to take your wife’s paw.”
Arthur didn’t question her – he quickly walked over to his wife’s bedside, her white and black fur matted with blood on the lower side, and he held her paw.
“Oh my God, Arthur! Oh my God!”
“Come on, dear. It’s the second time around – the second time is always easier.”
She screamed.
“Okay keep pushing!” the doctor yelled.
“Come on, Milady! You’ll be done soon!” the other doctor yelled.
“Ophelia, deep breaths, all right?” Arthur said.
“O-okay… okay.”
“Push!” the two doctors yelled.
With a mighty scream and a sharp clench of Arthur’s paw, she closed her eyes and began to push.
“Come on, Ophelia!”
“Come on, Milady!”
“Keep going – not too long!”
“Think of how beautiful he will be afterwards!”
“Harder!”
“Come on!”
“What are we going to call him?” Arthur asked Ophelia, trying to take her mind off the pain.
Ophelia had her eyes tightly closed and was too busy dealing with the pain to respond immediately. She punctuated every second with a grunt of pain, body trembling from the ordeal.
“Dear, open your eyes.”
One red-rimmed eye barely opened, looking right back at him.
“What are we going to call our son?”
“We’re… we’re going to call him… C-Corsair.”
“Say it again, dear, come on.”
“Corsair! We’re going to call him Corsair!”
“I… I can see a head!” one doctor yelled. “I can see him!”
The news reverberated around the room, one wolf passing it on to the next.
“They can see Corsair!” Arthur said. “What’s his full name going to be?”
“Corsair Sedrid! Son… son of Arthur and Ophelia Sedrid!”
“Who is he going to be brother to?”
“Ragnar Sedrid!”
“I’ve almost got him! Keep going, Milady!”
“And what’s he going to grow up into?” Arthur urged her.
“A beautiful, brave and wonderful wolf!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
One doctor recoiled from Ophelia, a bloody bundle in his arms.
“I’ve got him! I have him, I have him!”
Arthur froze and stared at what was now his second cub.
Before him, cradled in the doctor’s arms, connected to his loving wife by a red cord, was his cub. He whimpered and gasped, his body matted in crimson. The doctor shushed him as he began to cry, letting the second doctor lean in for observation.
“Hold on to my wife’s paw,” Arthur said to a nearby servant.
“Yes, Winter Baron.”
Arthur let go of his wife’s paw and walked towards the doctors. One inspected the cub in her arms while the other prepared a warm cloth in which to wrap him. Arthur approached with apprehension, not wanting to grow optimistic too quickly. She looked up and made eye contact with him, smiling.
“Winter Baron, our predictions were correct. I am currently holding a perfectly healthy son.”
Arthur sighed with relief and smiled. He looked down at his joy.
Our joy.
“Corsair Sedrid.”
“That’s him, Winter Baron. A fine name too. I imagine he’ll grow up to become a wonderful wolf.”
“My pup,” Ophelia whimpered. “Is my pup okay? Is he hurt?”
“No, no, Milady!” the other doctor comforted her. “He’s quite all right. Winter Baron, may we show Milady the pup?”
“Of course,” Arthur said, walking back over to his wife.
He knelt by her bedside as she held Corsair Sedrid, their second son, in her arms. Wrapping an arm around her and gently bringing her into him, he looked down at the pup and smiled.
“Corsair,” Ophelia said. “I love it. It suits him so well.”
“It does.”
“Ragnee is going to love him,” Ophelia sniffed. “Corsair and Ragnar. They’ll be inseparable. God, they’ll be such troublemakers.”
“They will.”
“We believe your son to be in good health, Milady,” one of the doctors reported. “Can we proceed with cutting the umbilical cord now?”
He looked at his wife, who was busy looking at their new-born son, and then looked back.
“I’d say a few minutes. Thank you so much.”
“Of course, Winter Baron,” he nodded, turning away.
Hours later, Arthur walked down the landing towards the stairs holding a basket between his paws.
Ragnar sat in front of the fire, a book of fables in paw while Gertrude and Klaus conversed quietly at the dinner table. Arthur shook a silent ‘no’ when they noticed him, gesturing to his oblivious son by the fire, and they understood.
He stopped behind Ragnar, who turned and looked up at him.
“Daddy? Is the surprise ready yet?”
“It is, Ragnee, it is,” Arthur smiled.
He placed down the basket facing the other way, hiding its contents.
“Now, listen to me closely. I’m going to show you the surprise but only on two conditions.”
“Okay, Daddy!” Ragnar agreed excitedly, putting down his book.
“First, you need to be very quiet. If you’re loud you will upset him, okay?”
A very enthusiastic nod.
“Second, you cannot touch him. You can look and sit with him but you cannot touch him whatsoever.”
Another nod.
“Good. Well then. Say hello to… Corsair Sedrid, your little brother.”
He turned the basket around to display the sleeping cub in the basket. Ra
gnar gasped in response before clamping his small paws over his mouth. Arthur smiled, beaming with pride, and put a paw on his shoulder.
“Good job on not being loud because he’s sleeping right now. We both know how important good sleep is, right?”
Ragnar nodded, paws still clamped over his mouth.
“All right, Ragnee. You like him?”
His son went to answer but held his tongue.
“Ragnee, you can speak, but not too‒”
“I love him!”
Arthur shushed him and rolled his eyes.
He has to show his excitement somehow.
“You two will get along well. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet but when he does we’ll see what they look like.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Ragnee?”
“Why doesn’t he open his eyes? Can he not see?”
“No. It’s because when you’re born your eyes stay shut for a while. That happened to you as well when you were born.”
“But why does that happen?”
“I think one of the doctors would be happy enough to explain it to you in Daddy and Mummy’s room. You want to go and say hello to Mummy?”
“Is Corsair coming with us?”
“Of course he is. Come on, let’s go.”
His son leapt up with joy, racing up the stairs and down the landing to the bedroom long before Arthur even reached the foot of the stairs.
“Winter Baron,” one of the servants asked. “The crowds outside are restless. Do we tell them the news?”
“By all means. Let the soldiers and Peter know to spread the word. Have one of the Krosguard lieutenants go to the aviaries and have the news dispatched across the clan.”
“Of course, Winter Baron,” one nodded, rushing to the door with their co-worker.
As Arthur climbed the stairs, he could hear his family name spreading like wildfire amongst the crowds outside.
“Long live the Sedrids! Long live the Sedrids! Long live the Sedrids!”
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Arthur looked down at his son sleeping soundly in the basket. He smiled.
“Welcome to the world, Corsair Sedrid. Welcome to Vos Draemar.”
Chapter One
Nothing stirred in the maze of snow-covered trees.
Within the confines of the woods, only the snow was daring enough to move. It floated down from the heavens, white specks swinging to and fro in the chilling breeze, adding to the white blanket over the ground. Undisturbed, the vast pillow looked plump to the woodland creatures that wandered between the trees.
From a hole excavated into a trunk, edging out from its shelter, came a creature. It was tiny, with one curious eye scanning the surroundings and a small nose sniffing the air. A hazelnut-coloured coat covered its body, small white stars beginning to nestle in its fur, and shielded it from nature’s cold breath.
It stepped out. Sniffing the air again and blinking away the snow from its single eye, it cast its gaze up to the canopies. The branches above strained with the weight of the snow, every so often letting out an annoyed creak, but they held firm. The creature glanced left, then right, and then stepped out into the open. Wading through the white carpet, the creature kept its eye forward, hoping to burrow another home into a tree farther along its journey.
It stopped.
It heard a noise. A rapid padding through the snow, something propelling itself at great speed, but it couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. Frantically looking around, it sought the source of the noise but failed to see it.
The sound grew louder.
It turned to retreat to its home, trudging through the snow at a brisk pace. With every step the noise grew closer, increasing in volume.
“Hyah!”
From the array of foliage to the left leapt a streak of white, blending in with the surroundings and making it difficult to discern its shape. With a high-pitched squeal, the creature dived inside the safety of its home and cowered in the corner, watching the beast shoot past the entrance and kick the snow up into the air.
Sprinting through the dense forest was an ictharr. The four-legged beast pounded across the ground, propelling itself forward with every push. Its purple eyes focused ahead on its path. A shaggy fur coat covered its body, fur sprouting up in places while forming streaks in others. A leather saddle hugged its midsection.
On that saddle sat Corsair Sedrid.
The wolf leant forwards, his paws clutching the reins as he directed the ictharr through the trees. His front fur was white, claiming the area around his green eyes and the sides of his snout, while the rest was black. A dark, hooded cloak billowed behind him, blown back by the wind, and exposed the thick winter clothes beneath.
“Hyah!”
He snapped at the reins and directed the steed to the right, steering it past a tree. The ictharr zoomed across the snow, air blowing in and out through the black leathery nose at the end of its snout, weaving through the obstacles of the forest.
“Left!”
Corsair pulled the reins left. The ictharr planted its paws in the snow and turned, skidding, before propelling itself in that direction. It followed the rider’s instructions to the letter, following every touch of the reins and verbal command.
“You can go faster, come on!”
The ictharr offered a protesting growl between breaths but didn’t defy its master. Agility prevailing, they evaded tree trunks and rocks, disrupting the even surface of the snow and causing it to explode into the air. They left in their wake a trail of large pawprints and uneven mounds.
“Left!”
Yanking the reins to the left, Corsair guided the beast through the forest. Woodland animals peeked from their homes as the rider and his steed shot past. The wolf spotted a formidable bulge in the carpet of snow, shaped like a long tube running from left to right. It lay metres ahead, tall enough to trip up the accelerating ictharr.
“Leap!”
His steed complied with his command. It leapt up into the air and soared over the fallen log. They continued on their course unhindered, Corsair glancing back at the obstacle.
“You’re doing good, keep it up!”
The ictharr managed a grunt of approval, its pink tongue hanging out from the side of its mouth, eyes focused on the path ahead. Corsair looked up to see a lone branch hanging out from the side of a tree, positioned to strike him in the stomach and knock him from his saddle. Knowing that the branch was too low to duck beneath, he drew his longsword from its sheath on his belt and swung.
The blade tore through the branch with ease, causing it to fly off with an audible snap. He threw his free arm up in front of his face to protect himself from any debris but none of the splinters struck him. Lowering his arm, he saw his companion looking back to ensure he was okay.
“I’m fine, keep your eyes forward.”
Both ictharr and lupine looked ahead and saw the treeline stop. The woodland failed to continue, the ground disappearing, and both pairs of eyes grew wider.
“Stop!”
Corsair yanked on the reins and the ictharr pushed its paws out, yowling in panic. They skidded towards the edge, the wolf pulling back on the reins hard as the brink rushed towards them.
To his relief, his companion’s paws stopped just short.
The ictharr, its eyes wide, scrambled back with such frantic haste that it pushed back on to its hind legs and flopped over on to its side. Corsair hit the ground with a grunt and fell from the saddle, rolling away from his steed. He came to a stop and remained still, sprawled out on his back with green eyes looking up to the grey sky.
They both lay there for a moment.
Blinking the snow away from his eyes, Corsair pushed himself up and grimaced. His clothes clung to him in a wet embrace.
“Great. Soaked.”
He felt something push against him and he turned. His ictharr was nuzzling him, his warm breath against his face, and Corsair smiled. He placed a paw on the side of his companion’s head and str
oked him.
“I’m fine, Quickpaw, I’m fine.”
As if suddenly possessed, Quickpaw drew his head back from him and shook his coat. Corsair shrank away as the snow was flicked across him, raising an arm to shield his face. When Quickpaw had finished, Corsair lowered his arm and looked down at himself. His clothes were clinging damply to his legs and torso. He looked over his shoulder to see the fur on his tail ruffled and knotted. He sighed.
“Thanks, Quickpaw.”
Quickpaw sat and let his tongue hang from his mouth, resting between the numerous fangs inside. Corsair looked back into the treeline, spotting the trail they had left during their run, and nodded in approval.
“You ran pretty fast today, Quickpaw. Good run. I pushed you hard.”
Quickpaw yapped.
“But… next time? Eyes forward.”
Corsair approached the edge and peered over the side. A slope stretched out from the top of the hill. It was hardly the sheer or deadly drop it appeared to be when one approached it.
Still wouldn’t be fun to fall down.
He looked up.
Hundreds of metres beyond the base of the hill, reinforced by three fortified stone walls, was a city. Houses and cottages lined the snowy pathways winding through it, the tiny dots of inhabitants moving back and forth between the buildings. He could see the marketplace in the centre, hundreds of wolves hurrying from stall to stall. The Lupine Halls of Justice were visible to the north, lonely except for the soldiers around it and the jail opposite. The Clan Iggregom Vaults stood to the west, its doors open as groups of people walked in and out to manage their savings. The woods returned at the base of the hill and bled into the south of the city, the only side without a wall. Other than the south’s thick foliage, there was nothing but snow beyond the walls.
As always, Grand Wolf Plains was bustling with life.
“There it is,” Corsair said as Quickpaw arrived by his side. “There’s home.”
Quickpaw growled in response.
The Sharpened Fangs Of Lupine Spirit Page 2