The Sharpened Fangs Of Lupine Spirit

by H. G. Sansostri

  “Corsair Sedrid?”

  “Corsair Sedrid, Sir.”

  “And this?”

  He gestured to Quickpaw, who shrank away from him.

  “Quickpaw, Sir.”

  He shook his head and chuckled. Corsair looked confused.

  “Is… is there something wrong, Sir?”

  “I’m wondering how this mess passed selection.”

  Quickpaw winced. Corsair peered over the lieutenant’s shoulder, trying to make eye contact with the alpha for help, but Alpha McVarn didn’t intervene.

  “He’s good, Sir.”

  “He looks like he’ll be eaten up and spat out by an adeun.”

  Some of the soldiers chuckled. Quickpaw whimpered but Corsair nudged him with his hind paw, telling him to stop.

  “I’d bet 100 Iggregoms that he wouldn’t last a day.”

  “I, uh… think he will, Sir.”

  “Move along, Lieutenant,” Alpha McVarn said, staring.

  The lieutenant grumbled and continued down the line. Quickpaw whimpered again, looking at his master with a saddened look accompanied by lowered ears. Corsair consoled him.

  “Don’t worry about him, all right? You’ll be fine. I’m here.”

  Harangoth gave a low growl, trying to reassure his friend. Quickpaw responded with a mewl. Arwenin sympathised with him, trying to make eye contact from where she was, but he refused to look up.

  “Pay him no mind,” Axel said. “He’s just vindictive and miserable.”

  Corsair looked forwards as the lieutenant returned to the front, standing beside his ictharr.

  “My name is Maximus Verschelden,” the grey wolf said. “I’m the lieutenant of the Krosguard. You are going to address me as ‘Sir’ from now on, is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” the line chorused.

  “You will be training here for a month. If you are falling behind, if you don’t display the values we want from someone working in the Krosguard, if you’re late, you go home. No second chances. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I will lead your training every day, which will be overseen by Alpha McVarn. Thornfang will make sure your ictharrs stay in line and don’t dare step over it.”

  She growled, snarled, and then bared her fangs. The ictharrs shrank away from her again as they caught sight of her teeth, chiselled and cut down so the front curves formed serrated blades inside her maw. Corsair stroked Quickpaw on the side of his head, staring at the brute.

  “Your training will end with a finale where you will demonstrate your ability to serve to an audience of your family and friends, out here in the courtyard. Most of you won’t even make it – that’s a guarantee. If you want to do us a favour and lighten the load, pack up your things and go home. No one is stopping you, is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “The Krosguard is the greatest fighting force Vos Draemar knows and, most likely, has ever known. We’re very selective about who we pick and I can already see who won’t last a day. You know who you are and you’re out of your depth.”

  He held his gaze over Corsair for a few seconds longer than anyone else.

  “Training starts tomorrow morning. If you’re smart and know your limits, you’ll leave tonight.”

  Lieutenant Maximus turned to face his superior.

  “How many do we have, Lieutenant?” Alpha McVarn asked.

  “One hundred, Alpha.”

  “Divide them into 10 barracks, with one of them in the church attic. Let them have the first day to rest.”

  “You heard him – divide into groups of 10, now!”

  Immediately, the line broke apart. Wolves turned to unite with those they knew, others gesturing for the lonely to come and join their group. Corsair moved towards his brother, Quickpaw behind him, and Axel followed. A group of other wolves joined, bringing the total to ten.

  “Your ictharrs will spend the night in the stables,” Lieutenant Maximus announced. “It’s your job to clean and feed them regularly. If your little sweetheart flops over dead because you forgot to feed her last night, then that’s your problem and you’re out. Soldiers, get them to the stables.”

  The soldiers watching stepped forwards and began to guide the groups towards the stables. Corsair could feel Quickpaw was reluctant to move away from him, whimpering and grumbling.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll come down and check on you regularly. I’ll see if I can take you on walks as well.”

  Harangoth nudged one of Quickpaw’s legs to get his attention. He gave a deep growl of encouragement. Quickpaw hesitated but, prompted by another growl, stood upright to impress his master.

  “No time to daydream, come on!”

  The soldier waved them through, guiding them down the side of the church wall. Corsair led Quickpaw forward, walking behind Axel and Ragnar.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Lieutenant Maximus stepped out in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. Thornfang padded over to his side, glaring at Quickpaw. Ragnar and Harangoth turned to stop but were forced to keep moving by a soldier, leaving his brother alone to face the lieutenant.

  “You’re coming across to me as pretty stupid for a prince.”

  “What?”

  “I said people who don’t belong here should go.”

  Corsair froze.

  “Are you going to answer me?”

  “B-but… Sir, you haven’t given me a chance‒”

  “I don’t need to give you a chance to know you won’t get far. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kick you out of here if I could. You and your brother get no privileges.”

  “But…”

  Aware that Alpha McVarn was still in the courtyard, he leant in and growled.

  “And I also heard about that impressive trick back at the capital where you beat McVarn. Some people seem to think it’s because of your experience in the arena but I don’t think so. He’s not a tough fight. He’s an old timer. You’re not special.”

  “You didn’t say anything to my brother.”

  “Your brother has an actual ictharr with him.”

  “Quickpaw is just as much an ictharr as Harangoth.”

  Thornfang snarled, baring her serrated fangs. With a yelp of panic, Quickpaw frantically tugged on the reins, whimpering and whining. Lieutenant Maximus grinned.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, Sedrid.”

  Before Corsair could answer, Alpha McVarn stormed over.

  “Lieutenant, leave him alone,” Alpha McVarn said. “You’ve had your fun.”

  Lieutenant Maximus chuckled to himself before turning and walking away, Thornfang in tow. Corsair watched them leave. Quickpaw whimpered, almost trying to hide behind his master.

  “Let’s get your ictharr to the stables,” Alpha McVarn said. “Then we’ll get you to your dormitory.”

  “Here you go.”

  Corsair peered through the doorway as Alpha McVarn held the door open, stepping into the room. He had been led to the dormitory above the church hall, an attic converted into quarters for the soldiers. Ten beds were pressed lengthways against the walls, five on each side, forming a decent-sized aisle between them. The wolves already escorted up there had the benefit of first choice, picking the cleanest beds and leaving the final bunk in the right corner free for him to take.

  “Have a good day of rest, son. Training starts early tomorrow and will continue for the rest of the month.”

  The door shut behind the prince, leaving him with the other nine wolves in the room. Everyone, apart from one wolf who was frantically packing her things, glanced in his direction. For a moment, all eyes were on him, before they disregarded the prince and returned to unpacking. Thankful, he made his way to the back of the attic, looking up to peer through the skylight. It was covered by a blanket of snow, leaving nothing but an eternally white view.

  “Corsair.”

  He looked down to see Ragnar place a paw on his shoulder.

  “
Are you all right? Did he…”

  “I’m fine, I’m okay.”

  “If he laid a paw on you, you tell me right now. Did he?”

  “No, Ragnee, he didn’t. He scared Quickpaw to death with that… Thornmouth thing.”

  “They should really put a disclaimer out when you join,” Axel said, not looking up from his unpacking. “Lieutenant Maximus clearly isn’t the person you want to have a heart-to-heart with. Especially not with his hell-spawn Thornfang around.”

  “She’s terrifying.”

  “How someone can have an ictharr that big is beyond me,” Ragnar said. “She’s bigger than Harangoth.”

  Corsair dumped his bag on the last available bed. It was adjacent to Axel’s, across the aisle from his, and Ragnar’s was directly in front. The older Sedrid unpacked his things like everyone else, folding his clothes and arranging them on the bed.

  “So… do you know a lot about Maximus?” Ragnar asked.

  “Not a lot. I got a glimpse of him once a few years ago and nothing more. I kind of forgot he existed until I saw him again today.”

  “Lieutenant Maximus is insane.”

  The three wolves turned to see a brown-furred veteran facing them. A panicked face met their gazes, belonging to the trainee he’d seen packing her things. Her belongings were stowed away in bags and placed at the base of the bed.

  “Insane seems to be the right word,” Ragnar said.

  “The wolf’s a criminal,” she said. “I’ve heard that he only got into the army as punishment for killing someone.”

  “Who?” Corsair asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “How do you know this?” Axel asked.

  “People talk. The soldiers told me. I served alongside him during the war in Clan Silverclaw. That thing he rides? It tore those cats apart in Venada. Someone told me it only takes one bite from those teeth and then you’re in two pieces.”

  “And, after all that, he’s a lieutenant in the Krosguard? I don’t believe that,” Ragnar scoffed.

  “You don’t believe they’d put a killer in charge of killers? Fine. Be stupid. It’s your safety on the line. I’m out of here.”

  “Whoa, let’s relax here,” Axel said. “Seems a bit drastic when it’s only the first day.”

  “He’s called the Butcher of Tomskon for a reason, okay? He massacred those cats. After all the screaming, there was nothing left of them. He’s not someone you want to be messing with. If you idiots want to stay here, fine, but I’m gone. I know better. I’m not training alongside that lunatic!”

  Without another word, she grabbed her things and rushed out of the barracks. All the trainees watched as she barrelled through the door and slammed it behind her. They exchanged disturbed expressions with their counterparts, unsure as to whether staying was a good idea. Ragnar faced Corsair.

  “If you want to leave, I’ll come with you. I saw him giving you a hard time. If you don’t feel safe we can go.”

  Corsair was confronted with another momentary lapse. He didn’t want to be trained by a criminal. He didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t like they’d stop him leaving – they wanted him to go. They would leave later that night and not have to think about it anymore.

  But then the consequences reintroduced themselves. Condescension. Mockery. Emotional attacks from all sides.

  Or worse.

  “No. I can do it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. He was trying to scare me, get inside my head. It’s something they do, right? Try to weed out the weak from the strong?”

  Ragnar hesitated before giving in.

  “Okay. The moment something goes wrong, though, we’re going. I don’t care about the consequences.”

  Corsair nodded, turning to look at Axel.

  “That thing can’t really bite people into two, can it?”

  “A maug? Sure. An ictharr? No way in hell. She’s paranoid. Those fangs are just for show.”

  Axel didn’t look too sure himself.

  Quickpaw stood in his stall within the stables, peering down at the snow-covered concrete beneath him.

  Dusk had fallen over the town of Ignatius’ Mount. His master had come to visit him an hour before he turned in for the night, rubbing his side and scratching the backs of his ears. He enjoyed the moments he had with him before he left, promising to see him first thing in the morning.

  Now he waited.

  The ictharrs in the neighbouring stalls gazed out into aisle, growling and yapping to one another in excited conversation. Many were hardened beasts of war, with scars and wounds decorating their flanks and faces. Some were missing teeth, others had lost ears, and a few had shortened tails. The sight made his tail wilt.

  Harangoth was in the stall next to him. He stood in silence, blinking every so often when snow got in his eyes, waiting to be told to go to sleep. Quickpaw stared at his friend in admiration of his unyielding courage.

  Quickpaw puffed out air and looked across the aisle. Arwenin was in the opposite stall, looking towards him, tilting her head to the side as she made eye contact. When he recognised her, he yapped.

  She didn’t respond, tilting her head in the opposite direction, and he opened his maw again when the ictharrs on the left side of the stables fell into silence. The only sound he could hear from that direction was paws crunching through the snow.

  He leant out and looked left.

  The shadowy hulk stalked the aisle, sending out a shockwave with every step, throwing nearby ictharrs into panic as they tried to retreat into the back walls of their stalls. Quickpaw heard Arwenin whimper and bow her head behind the stall door, hiding from sight.

  Before he could do anything, Thornfang stopped in front of his stall. She turned her head, her body still facing towards the end of the walkway, and gave a low growl. Quickpaw tried to step back from her but could go no further, forced to stay in the presence of the beast. Others peeked out from their own stalls, watching the confrontation.

  She stopped growling and puffed out air into his face. He flinched, shaking his head in response, watching as the behemoth pulled just ahead so her rear stopped before the door.

  He tilted his head as her tail stood up.

  He was struck across the snout twice by the tail in alternating directions, making him flinch and shake his head again. The other ictharrs yapped and growled, belittling the runt. Arwenin peeked up over her door, furious eyes glaring at Thornfang.

  Satisfied with the humiliation, the proud ictharr continued on her patrol. Harangoth peered out to check how his friend was, offering a growl of sympathy. Quickpaw gave a sad answer before retiring, lowering himself down behind the door and closing his eyes.

  Chapter Nine

  “Rise and shine, recruits!”

  Corsair’s eyes shot open, body taut from the shock of hearing the booming voice. Others in the dormitory hurried out of bed, throwing their covers back and standing to listen to the officer.

  “I said rise and shine, Sedrid!”

  Realising that he was being addressed, he reached for the sheets. He was too disoriented to notice that he was dangerously close to the edge of the bed and found his paw closing on air. He felt himself lurch over the side and yelped as he plummeted to the floorboards, scrambling up to his hind paws with his sheets still draping from his shoulders. A few snickers came from his counterparts, accompanied by Axel covering his eyes with one paw. The officer looked less than amused.

  “For the Winter Baron’s son, I expected a more self-aware wolf.”

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  The officer turned to address the dormitory.

  “Training starts in 10 minutes. Lieutenant Maximus doesn’t like wolves who are late, so you’d better get dressed and head down to the stables.”

  The wolves stared at him.

  “Did I stutter? Get dressed, now!”

  None of the training cohort hesitated to turn and dive underneath their beds, rummaging around for the sets of clothes that were given o
ut the night before. Corsair shrugged off the lethargic grip of the sheets, threw them back into a heap on the bed, and reached underneath. He felt his paw close on the fabric of his clothes and dragged them out, turning.

  Axel met his gaze and smirked.

  “You’re not that good at this whole ‘first impression’ thing, are you?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Next group, get your ictharrs and head to the courtyard!”

  Corsair entered the stables with his group, walking down the aisles of the stables in search of his companion. Other wolves bustled past him, muttering ‘watch it’ as they did so, but he ignored them.

  This is the one.

  Marching down the aisle, he looked to his right and analysed the faces of the ictharrs as he passed. His eyes scanned face after face until he came across Quickpaw.

  His steed sat within his stall, body facing towards the door, but his head was hung. His ears were down and tail curled as he waited.

  “Hey.”

  Quickpaw looked up and, within a fraction of a second, changed his attitude completely. Leaping up on to all four paws, he tried to push through the door as if it weren’t there and barked, leaning his head out and licking him across the face.

  “Ugh, come on,” Corsair muttered, wiping away the slobber. “Now I’m going to stink for the rest of the day.”

  Ignoring his annoyed tone, Quickpaw yapped again and shifted from paw to paw.

  “You’re really excited to see me this morning. Was everything all right?”

  He removed the latch from the door and pulled it open. Quickpaw padded out and turned to face his master, giving a playful growl.

  “We can’t go on a run right now. We need to go to the courtyard.”

  Begging, Quickpaw whimpered and pushed his snout towards his face. Corsair leant out of his reach and placed his paws on either side of his snout, holding him back.

  “Not right now. I promise we’ll have a walk in my free time, okay?”

  If I even get any free time.

  Corsair reached for Quickpaw’s harness, saddle and reins from the hook fixed to the frame of his stable. Years of experience allowed him to tack up his steed within two minutes, securing and reviewing every strap and buckle. Steering him out of the stables with his helmet tucked under arm, he led him to the courtyard. A line of wolves and their companions formed by the church wall, one that he joined immediately when he spotted Lieutenant Maximus beside Alpha McVarn. Thornfang stood a few metres before him, scanning back and forth across the line.