Minutes passed and the rest of the training cohort arrived, congregating by the wall. He could see Ragnar was one of the first at the far end of the line while Axel was towards the opposite, Arwenin standing by his side.
He noticed that the line was shorter than the previous day.
The lieutenant turned to face them.
“Welcome to your first day of training. I can already see we’ve had some of our trainees make it easy on themselves and leave early. If any of you still feel like this isn’t for you,” he went on, gesturing to the wide-open gate on the opposite side of the courtyard, “then no one’s stopping you. You’d be doing me a favour.”
Silence. Some wolves looked down the line to see if anyone would leave, glancing left and right. Corsair stared straight ahead.
I’m not going. I’m not even going to be tempted.
“Well, seeing as you all think you’ve got guts, let’s start training. Mount your ictharrs.”
All turned to hop into their saddles. Corsair did the same, pulling himself up on to Quickpaw’s back, and straightened himself in time to see Lieutenant Maximus mount Thornfang. The horrid beast trained her gaze on the line. Alpha McVarn and two subordinates mounted their own ictharrs and sped away through the gates, taking a right down a path and disappearing.
“Follow me,” Lieutenant Maximus said. “Don’t fall behind. If you get lost, I’m not coming to find you.”
They rode along for 10 minutes, following the same path McVarn and his entourage had, when Thornfang came to a stop and turned. The lieutenant didn’t need to say anything – the front rank followed a few metres behind the beast, their steeds refusing to go any closer, and then backed away a few when they saw her turn on them. Even the guards who rode beside him flinched in anticipation.
“We’re starting with a race.”
He gestured behind him and Corsair gripped the reins harder.
Along the left side of the snowy path cut into the trees ahead was a slope, steeper than the one south of Grand Wolf Plains. Trees, both fallen and upright, dotted the hillside. At the bottom it met the road, not too far away from their destination, but was separated from the mount’s base by an abyss.
“Navigating in dangerous terrain is an important skill to master if you want to be considered one of us. We’ll send you off in groups of 10 – follow the path all the way down to the clearing where the alpha is and stop there. If you’re feeling lucky, try your own route, but no one will come to find you if you get lost on the way or fall down into that pit.”
The lieutenant, without another word, turned and led Thornfang away from the front of the group. One of the soldiers pointed to the front line.
“You 10, you’re up!”
Corsair scanned the group’s faces as he saw them approach the impromptu starting line and was thankful that he didn’t see Ragnar or Axel amongst them. He looked about him – he was at the back of the group, separated from those he knew, and he began to ease Quickpaw through the ranks to look for his sibling.
“Corsair, what are you doing?”
He looked right to see Axel there, atop Arwenin.
“Have you seen Ragnee?”
“Ragnar?”
“Yeah, Ragnar?”
“He’s in the second row, I think. I thought you were eager to get up to the front.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Just stick to the right of the path and you’ll be fine. We have to get it done, right?”
He hesitated. This was insane. He was going to risk death to evade his father’s scolding? No way. He knew this wasn’t right – he felt obliged to quit and return home. His brother would agree with his reasoning and follow him back.
But he couldn’t face that scowl.
“I need to find Ragnee.”
“I’ll follow.”
He nodded and directed Quickpaw past the ictharrs, listening to the nervous and excited murmurs of the Krosguard trainees. He glanced left and right, leading his steed forwards to the front, when he saw his brother within the first line on the right side.
“Ragnee?”
His brother looked over his shoulder and Harangoth glanced behind him, nodding to Quickpaw.
“We need to do this together,” Ragnar said. “I don’t care if we come in last place – I’m not letting you near that hill.”
“You think I want to go near it?”
He opened his mouth to speak but saw movement in his peripherals, turning his head. The guard stepped forward, pointing to the front line.
“You 10, get ready.”
“No,” Lieutenant Maximus said, riding forwards. “Switch these two out. Sedrid and I will go instead – we’ll see how they do against Thornfang.”
The riders within the first line shot nervous looks to one another, with only a minority grinning at the idea of a challenge. Ragnar brought Harangoth forwards, giving his brother a reassuring nod.
“Not you. Corsair Sedrid.”
Corsair’s ears stood to attention.
“What?”
“You heard me. Join the line. You’re in the next race.”
“But, Sir, I only came forward to‒”
“In line, Sedrid, now.”
Thornfang growled, glaring at Quickpaw. Corsair felt his steed back away. Intimidated by the menacing gaze of his superior, he looked to his brother for assistance. Ragnar opened his mouth.
“Sir‒”
“If I wanted both brothers, I’d have asked for both brothers. I want the younger Sedrid on this race, not you. If I hear anything else out of either of you, you’re both going home. Got it?”
Driven by fear of the disgrace of being sent home, Corsair reluctantly directed Quickpaw to the starting line. Quickpaw dug his paws into the snow and refused, whimpering.
“We have to. Please, Quickpaw. Be strong for me.”
Quickpaw looked to Harangoth for aid, whining. The black ictharr nuzzled him and growled, telling him to be safe. Corsair made eye contact with Ragnar.
“Stick to the right,” Ragnar said. “Stay safe. Forget about winning.”
Thornfang snarled, urging the latest additions to hurry up. Surrendering and giving the lieutenant a wide berth, Quickpaw padded over to the starting line and waited.
Okay, stay calm. Stay calm.
“Nothing to worry about. It’s a normal race, Quickpaw. It’s just a normal race.”
“Get ready!” the Krosguard soldier yelled.
All 10 ictharrs leaned down on their front legs, ready to propel themselves forward and down the road. Corsair blinked away the snow as he clutched the reins, his paws beginning to hurt.
“Go!”
“Hyah!”
All 10 riders snapped at the reins and the ictharrs barked in response, shooting off down the road. Quickpaw bounded forwards and his rider directed him, glancing left frequently to see how close his competition was. The snow bombarded his face, constantly getting in his eyes. He cursed under his breath and furiously wiped them.
“Left!”
Quickpaw dug his paws into the snow and skidded to a halt, turning and shooting off again down the mount. He cut in front of one rider and forced him to manoeuvre away from him, the snow kicked up behind Quickpaw blinding the rider momentarily. A quick glance at the competition to his left and he knew that he was starting to create distance between him and the other riders.
We’re in the lead.
And then, following the snap of jaws closing on air, he felt Quickpaw fall away from him.
Yelling out, he was flung forwards and landed on his side in the snow. He rolled and rolled until he came to an eventual stop against the bank on the side of the road, covered in white specks and left with soaked clothes. He scrambled to his hind paws to see Thornfang shoot past him, now leading the charge amongst the group as they hurtled down the road.
Quickpaw.
“Are you all right?” he yelled, rushing back towards his steed.
Quickpaw eased himself up, shaking his coat
and flinging snow through the air. Corsair stopped short of the barrage.
“Did Thornfang try to bite you?”
Quickpaw confirmed it with a growl. A second-long inspection told Corsair that the beast had fortunately failed to injure him.
“Okay, we haven’t got a lot of time. We have to catch up with them. Come on!”
He pulled himself back on to the saddle and snapped the reins, propelling his reluctant ictharr down the path and around the turn. After a few seconds he pulled back on the reins and came to a stop.
The group was hundreds of metres ahead, almost at the next turn. There was no chance he could close the gap in time, considering that he had been barely pulling ahead from them.
He’d be in last place.
I’ll get kicked out. I could get kicked out.
He felt his paw move to the left side of his neck.
I can’t go back. I can’t get kicked out.
Then he saw the slope.
No, I can’t. It’s too dangerous. I could fall and die.
But his fear made him reconsider the idea of irrational behaviour. He could travel close to the left and cut a few metres off his route. At least he’d have a greater chance of intercepting someone if he tried that instead of running the whole course.
“Forward, Quickpaw.”
He directed his companion towards the left side and he wasn’t surprised to feel Quickpaw refusing to move.
“Please – if I lose, I get thrown out. I can’t go back to Dad like that. I need to make it in.”
Quickpaw whimpered.
“I’ll keep us safe. It’s just to cut a few corners. Trust me.”
Quickpaw hesitated, looking back to the top of the slope, before agreeing to the dangerous plan. With a snap of the reins, he took off along the left side of the road, taking his master in the direction of the group.
“Come on, faster! We can catch up!”
Quickpaw grunted and pounded across the snow, weaving past trees as Corsair yanked the reins left and right.
“Keep going, you’re doing great!”
They continued to travel this close to the top of the slope for minutes more, darting back and forth between the trees, leaping over fallen trunks and evading the standing monuments. Corsair felt that he was gaining on one of them, clinging to the idea that he wouldn’t finish last if they maintained their pace.
“Come on!”
And then he saw it.
A formidable bulge in the snow lay ahead, cutting across his path as they moved left to evade an incoming tree. He saw it rushing towards them, about to strike Quickpaw’s legs, and he realised that he was half a metre away from tumbling down the slope.
“Stop!”
There was nothing he could do.
With a yelp, Quickpaw tripped over the fallen obstacle and flung his rider from his saddle. Corsair yelled out as he flew from his seat, landing in the snow and rolling, before he felt his body lurch over the edge. He tried to grab on to something, anything, flailing with his arms, but felt only snow under his paws as he clawed at the ground.
With a scream and a terrified howl, both Corsair and Quickpaw tumbled over the brink and down the slope.
“Oh God oh God oh God!”
Corsair slid down the slope on his back, speeding towards the ravine at the base. Quickpaw was metres to his left, desperately trying to slow himself down by rapidly clawing at the hill, but it did nothing.
“Help! Someone help!”
His voice echoed across the plains and down the mount but he knew that, even if someone heard him, it was too late. The gap was too wide for him to attempt to jump – only Quickpaw’s legs would be strong enough to cross that distance.
Looking left, he saw his companion in a fit of pure terror. Yelping and yowling, whimpering and howling, the ictharr was unable to stop himself sliding towards his death.
“Move towards me!”
No response other than terrified yelps and howls.
“Quickpaw!”
He couldn’t be reasoned with.
I can’t die I can’t die I can’t die‒
Time was running out. With nothing to stop himself from hurtling to his death, Corsair began to copy his companion and try to grab on to anything he could while moving. Nothing was close enough to aid him, all the trees too far away to be grabbed.
“Ragnee!”
He turned back to face his doom and saw it – a single fallen tree lay before him, pointing diagonally towards Quickpaw’s route. It was right in his path.
If I grab it I’ll get trapped there and Quickpaw will still die-
Then it came to him through his panicked thoughts. If he timed it just right, he could run across the fallen trunk and jump on to Quickpaw as he travelled.
I could miss I could miss I could miss-
There was no time to think of the consequences. It was this or die.
Angling himself towards the log, he prepared to leap for his life. The trunk drew closer and closer, his one chance of saving them.
It arrived.
With the momentum he had gained, he almost fell flat on his face when his hind paws hit the tree trunk. He stumbled but maintained his speed, rushing towards the end, looking left to see Quickpaw approaching.
He leapt.
For a moment, he thought he had overshot the jump. His eyes went wide and he anticipated the pain he would feel when he plummeted into the abyss and struck the hard ground at high velocity, shattering every bone in his body.
But he didn’t.
He landed on Quickpaw on his side, yelling out as he did so. With adrenaline helping him ignore the pain, he hurried into a sitting position and snatched up the reins. He had a second to look up at his impending doom, his ictharr still panicking.
The chasm was metres away and closing.
Do something!
“Leap!”
The command drew Quickpaw out from his bout of hysteria and, knowing it was his last chance of survival, he jumped. Time slowed as the wolf looked down into the ravine. They sailed over it, Corsair’s eyes wide and mouth hanging open in an endless scream of terror.
Then he felt Quickpaw land on the opposite side.
Still driven erratic by adrenaline, Quickpaw dashed down the road. Corsair snapped at the reins, trying to speed them away from the ravine, panting with tongue hanging out from the corner of his mouth.
They rounded the corner and he saw them.
Alpha McVarn stood beside his ictharr, a few Krosguard soldiers standing behind him with the first racing group resting behind them. All turned to see Corsair and Quickpaw speed towards them, yelling as they threw themselves out the way.
“Halt!” Alpha McVarn yelled.
Corsair yanked on the reins and Quickpaw skidded to a stop before the alpha. The beast was panting, plumes of his misty breath pushing out from his gaping maw, while Corsair blinked at the reality that he was still alive.
“You almost trampled us, son.”
“I… I made it.”
“You did, son. First place. Impressive.”
He marvelled at the fact he was alive, raking breaths in and out, before he realised what the alpha said.
“Wait… wait, first place?
“First place, son. No mistake.”
“But…”
Hearing rapid crunching through the snow, he looked over his shoulder to see Thornfang dart around the corner. She powered towards the destination before her eyes fell upon Quickpaw, causing her to skid to a halt. Others raced around the corner and spotted the halted rider, yanking back on their reins.
“What?”
Lieutenant Maximus dropped down from Thornfang and stormed towards Corsair, eyes trained on him.
“How did you overtake us? How?”
“I‒”
“Answer me, Sedrid!”
“Lieutenant, you calm yourself down right now,” Alpha McVarn growled.
Lieutenant Maximus stood there, fury brewing behind his harsh eyes. Corsair contin
ued to pant, meeting his glare.
He made me do that. He tried to make me come last and that made that happen. I almost died.
But, as the lieutenant stormed back to Thornfang, he found that his anger was diluted by the relief of still being able to draw breath and not lying dead at the bottom of the ravine. It was his idiocy that almost brought about his demise, regardless of the lieutenant’s cruelty. As he dismounted, he staggered from the shock of the victory against death and turned to face Quickpaw.
“We’re… alive.”
A moment of stunned silence passed before Corsair became the first to fall. He groaned in shock before he tipped backwards and collapsed in the snow, sprawled out across the ground with eyes shut. The ictharr wobbled, groaned, and then flopped on to his side beside his rider.
Chapter Ten
“Let me get this straight,” Axel said. “You raced against the lieutenant of the Krosguard, fell off Quickpaw because Thornfang tried to bite him, tried to catch up by riding next to the top of the hill, fell and slid down the hill towards your death, leapt off a fallen log, landed on Quickpaw, told him to jump across, took a massive shortcut because of that, and won the race.”
“Kind of.”
“And then fainted?”
“Yeah.”
Axel blinked, astonished.
“You’re… going to need to give me a few minutes on that one.”
Hours after the first session of training, the lieutenant finally permitted them a measly 20-minute break back at the settlement. They all had traipsed back to the town of Ignatius’ Mount, the marginally smaller group splitting up to spend their precious time on different activities. Corsair and Axel found themselves in the stables among numerous others, feeding their exhausted ictharrs.
“I’m still trying to come to terms with what happened.”
“Understandable. It’s not every day you barely escape plummeting to your death, is it?”
The Sharpened Fangs Of Lupine Spirit Page 11