The Wildcat of Braeton

by Claire M Banschbach

  “Your Uncle Cor might need a drink before you go.” Tristan had exited behind Corin.

  “Are you thirsty?” Gwilym asked Corin.

  “No,” he told the boy. “I’ll be fine as long as I don’t have to see him for a while,” Corin told Tristan.

  Gwilym listened carefully. “Someone annoying you, Uncle Cor? Why don’t you chop ’em in half with your sword?”

  “What do you, Martin, and Trey teach him exactly?” Tristan asked Corin.

  “Oh, lots of stuff,” Gwilym answered.

  “I’m sure they do,” his Uncle Tris agreed. “Has your Uncle Cor taught you how to play nice with others?”

  Corin laughed sarcastically. Gwilym’s impatience won through and he grabbed Corin’s hand, dragging him away while informing him that Aunt Mera was also accom-panying them.

  The yearlings were kept in a large pasture by the training grounds. They were walking through the town when Corin heard someone behind them. He turned to see Llewellyn sprinting toward them.

  “Captain! There’s a rider coming in full speed. It looks like Martin!” he gasped.

  Gwilym took Mera’s hand as Corin and Llewellyn raced back to the castle. He didn’t understand why Corin looked so frightened to see his Uncle Martin.

  Gerralt heard the shouts and pounding feet as Martin burst into the office. Martin dropped a few words in Calorin.

  “Where’s Corin?” he demanded.

  Gerralt felt sudden panic and could only state the obvious. “He’s not here.”

  Martin repeated his first words and ran out again, shouting for someone to find the Captain. Gerralt followed him out into the courtyard. A groom held a lathered horse, and the men of the Hawk Flight had begun to gather.

  Martin headed toward the castle steps when a shout stopped him. He waited for Corin and Llewellyn to join him. They held a quick conference, and Corin re-questioned Martin before both of them tore up the stairs into the keep. Llewellyn went over to the men.

  “Start packing, lads. We’re leaving in two hours.”

  * * *

  “You are sure about this, Lieutenant?” Celyn asked as the council gathered back together.

  “Yes, sire. Lieutenant Liam and his patrol found the tracks two days ago. They were well covered, but enough for a large force. And yesterday we saw their campsite. Almost a hundred Calorins and Durnians,” Martin reported.

  “Only a hundred? Is this the massive invasion we have heard so much about? Why didn’t the fearless Hawk Flight attack?” Lord Siarls sneered.

  Martin treated him to a pitying glance. “If I’d been allowed to finish, Lieutenant Flynn also saw a second strike force further down the border. And just because we can’t see them does not mean there aren’t more Durnians out there. My lord, we aren’t stupid. Even twenty men of the Hawk Flight are no match for a force arrayed like that.”

  “What do you mean ‘arrayed like that’?” Tristan asked. He and Darrin shared a concerned glance. Having fought with the Hawk Flight in the War they knew well that twenty men could have wreaked havoc on the enemy force.

  “They’ve set up traps and snares around the camp. And they carry a banner depicting a hawk pierced with a javelin. They will hunt us relentlessly, and this will soon become bloodier than the first war,” Martin said.

  The room was deathly silent. Then Celyn stirred.

  “The fight has come to you first, General.” He formally named Corin to the position. “What are your plans?”

  “I leave immediately for the forest. Captain Haul, I’m coming to Lynwood as soon as I’ve met with my entire warband,” Corin said.

  Captain Haul nodded. He would leave as soon as he could to prepare the Keep for war.

  “I’ll send Kieran to alert the Clans. Our warbands are still sadly depleted, and we will need their help long before this is over,” Corin continued. “And, your majesty, it would be best to begin preparations for the defense of this castle. We’ll hold them in the forest as long as we can, but I can make no promises.”

  Celyn agreed. “My lords, return to your lands and prepare for the worst. Make sure your men are ready to ride at any time to wherever they are most needed.”

  “Captain, with your permission, I’ll send Trey and his deugain to help. They can hold the border to the south,” Tristan said to Corin.

  “If you can spare them, they will be more than welcome,” Corin said in relief. Trey and his Sharks would be an invaluable addition to his force. They were named after the silent killers of the sea for a reason.

  “I’ll pull the men from the inland garrisons to prepare for an attack from the sea,” Tristan said.

  Celyn approved and would have kept discussing the matter, but Corin’s impatience to leave was obvious.

  “General, rejoin your men. A full report on the warbands here will be sent to you. I also expect reports from you as often as possible,” he reminded Corin.

  “Yes, sire,” Corin replied. He and Martin bowed respectfully and left the room.

  “Martin, I want you to stay here for at least a day,” Corin said. Martin immediately began to protest, but Corin cut him off. “No, you’re tired. Rest and spend some time with Gwilym and your sister.”

  “I’m coming back with you, Corin.”

  “Martin, can you tell me when you’ll be back here or if any of us will make it home?” Corin stopped him, and Martin finally relented.

  “Fine. But I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning,” Martin said.

  “I fully expect you to.”

  They found Kieran who had heard the news, along with the rest of Corin’s patrol, from Llewellyn.

  “You really tweaked the Sultaan’s whiskers, didn’t you, Captain?” Kieran said.

  “Looks that way, Kieran,” Corin replied.

  “But at least you don’t have to face Balkor this time,” Martin said.

  “I would rather see him again because at least I knew him. I don’t know who we face this time,” Corin said.

  “Well, I see them at a disadvantage too, sir. They know who they’re up against,” Kieran said.

  Corin and Martin smiled slowly. “So they do. Let’s go remind them then,” Corin said. “Kieran, meet me in my office in half an hour. I’ll have the message for the Clans ready.”

  They split up and Corin hurried to his room where he changed to the black and green uniform of his warband and packed. He was finished in a matter of minutes and slung his packs and bow and quiver over his shoulder and ran to the barracks office.

  Gerralt said nothing as Corin grabbed parchment and quill and began to write. Kieran entered as he folded and sealed the letter.

  “Take this to Clan Dyson. If you see Captain Brian, tell him I’ll want to talk with him in a few days. Ask if they’ll send this on to Clan Gunlon and the other Clans if they see fit,” Corin instructed him.

  “Anything else, Captain?” Kieran asked.

  “Are you fully equipped?” Corin looked over the young man’s weapons and packs.

  “Yes, sir. I’ve also got anything Kara might need,” Kieran replied.

  “Good. And, Kieran, be careful and smart about how you ride. It’s twice as dangerous as it was in the last war. Make sure Kara understands that as well,” Corin said.

  “I will, Captain,” Kieran replied seriously. “I’ll see you out there, sir. Good hunting.”

  Corin nodded, and Kieran ran out of the barracks, leapt onto his horse, and galloped away.

  “It’s started, hasn’t it?” Gerralt asked.

  Corin looked over at him. “Yes, it has,” he replied quietly. He turned back to a second letter he had begun to write. “Gerralt, I don’t know when I’ll be back again. If there’s anything important, send it out with Kara or Kieran when they come in. I’ll see what I can do about it. Or you can just forge my signature or find someone else to sign.”

  “But, sir—” Gerralt began to protest before Corin interrupted with more instructions.

  “Anything that comes in from now on
Darrin will probably want to see as well. It will be reports on garrisons and their preparations. Captain Iwan or Pedr can help you with any of it.” He finished his letter and folded it carefully. He shouldered his packs and handed the letter to Gerralt. “Would you give this to Mera for me?”

  “I will, sir,” Gerralt said. “And, Captain…be careful.”

  Corin paused at the door. “I will. Thank you, Gerralt.” And then he was gone.

  The courtyard was filled with families bidding the men good-bye. His men began to mount when they saw him. He arranged his packs on the saddle before going up the steps to bid farewell to his own family. Queen Elain and Amaura were on the verge of tears as he hugged them. Gwilym pushed forward and latched onto his waist.

  “Why do you have to go?” he asked.

  Corin knelt in front of him. “Do you remember what Martin and I told you we did when we lived in the forest?” he asked the boy.

  “You said you had to keep everyone safe,” Gwilym said in a low voice.

  “Exactly. And that’s what we have to do again. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  Gwilym nodded as he scuffed his boot against the stones. He gave Corin a quick hug before running back to Martin. Corin stood.

  “I’ll hold your patrol at camp until you get there,” he told Martin.

  Finally all farewells were said, and Corin mounted. Mera was nowhere to be seen but he knew his letter would get to her. Karif hovered above them as they rode out. Corin didn’t look back; he was now focused on the task ahead.

  * * *

  That night Mera sat in her room, clutching Corin’s letter. She was crying uncontrollably, but it was a mixture of sorrow and joy. He was gone, maybe forever, but he loved her.

  * * *

  It was dawn when Corin and his men arrived at the caves. The Hawk Flight was awake and assembled when they entered. Flynn and Liam had new reports to give. Corin spread the warband’s unique map of the forest on the table in his side cave.

  It was divided into six square parts with a dizzying array of lines of it. Red lines marked the river and waterways, and red squares marked any permanent camps they maintained. Blue lines defined the well-known paths, and black lines delineated the Hawk Flight’s favorite tracks. Liam picked up several small wooden blocks.

  “They have camps here and here.” He placed the pegs where he indicated.

  “We’ve picked up new tracks since two days ago,” Flynn said.

  “Either of you moved on them?” Corin asked.

  “No,” Liam replied. “They haven’t moved from their camps yet.”

  “They can’t stay there forever. But they may be meant to keep our attention focused on them,” Corin said. “Trey is coming in and will cover here.” He pointed to the two squares at the left of the map. “Flynn and Liam, keep a watch on those camps and the surrounding paths. Don’t attack yet. Let them get comfortable and then we’ll strike. Ioan,” he addressed Martin’s second-in-command. “Martin should be here by tonight. Leave tomorrow and run a quick patrol along the border and try to see where they came over. I’m leaving for Lynwood to arrange for them to send men out and then to the border to meet with Brian.”

  “When can we let them know we’re here?” Flynn asked.

  “If they haven’t moved by tomorrow night, find a way around their defenses and send them a message,” Corin said. “They won’t leave if we ask them, so we’ll start this war on our own terms.”

  Chapter 3

  Aiden pushed Narak on faster, anxious to get home again. The patrol had been quiet, but it was a deceptive calm. The whole forest seemed to be waiting. And they had been assigned a new commander. Aiden had yet to hear the reason. It was the man’s first command, and he showed it. The rest of the patrol shared Aiden’s low opinion of the man.

  He came to the mouth of the valley and stopped, taking in the view as if he would never see it again. Snow still covered the ground, but it dripped from the trees as the sun began to put out more and more heat with the onset of spring. Smoke rose lazily from the houses, and farmers walked the fields and planned for the first plowing. Narak descended the road, slopping through the mud and melting snow.

  As always, the gates stood open, and Aiden waved in response to the shouts of welcome. Since becoming Champion, he felt more and more guilty every time he left, but no one begrudged him yet. Narak submitted to being led away by a stable boy. Cormac, who served as steward, met him inside the hall.

  “We have some visitors, sir. Some cousins of yours from one of the outer villages. Everyone is out on the hunt right now,” Cormac told him.

  “When do you expect them back?” Aiden asked.

  “Soon,” Cormac said. “I’ve never known a Braeton tae be late for a meal.”

  Aiden smiled and left for his room. The evening meal was fast approaching and he needed to change. He buckled one of his swords around his waist and put his knives in place. He knew he was supposed to wear it, but he could rarely bring himself to put on the bronze torc. He left it in the room, arranging his cloak so Ranulf wouldn’t notice the torc was missing until too late.

  Rona was conveniently waiting for him as he came downstairs.

  “Greetings, Sir Champion.” She swept an elaborate curtsey.

  He in turn gave an exaggerated bow. “I’m honored that the warrior woman deigns speak tae me.”

  “Yes, you should be,” she replied and tried for an aloof look which, as usual, sent them both into unrestrained laughter. She reached up and arranged the folds of his cloak more neatly.

  “How much longer do you think you’ll be able tae get away with this before your brother notices?” she asked.

  “Should I feel bad?” Aiden asked in return. “Because I don’t really. Anyway, you’re the one who suggested it,” he lightly accused.

  “Treachery!” she exclaimed. “You would betray me like that?” Her eyes widened theatrically.

  He grinned mischievously. “Yes, and there is no way tae stop it.”

  “I see I underestimated you.”

  “You really shouldn’t, especially when he thinks he’s so clever,” Ranulf said as he approached.

  Aiden couldn’t stop his smirk even though his brother had noticed his ploy.

  “But I’m not the real mastermind,” Aiden protested.

  “You snitch!” Rona exclaimed and punched his arm.

  “I gave you fair warning,” Aiden reminded her and was rewarded with another, somewhat gentler, blow.

  “That’s the last time I help you with nefarious plans tae shirk your duties,” Rona informed him imperiously.

  He winked, trying to draw out the laughter he knew she was barely holding in.

  “I’ll let you get away with it for one more night,” Ranulf relented, shaking his head at both of them.

  Aiden had more than a sneaking suspicion his brother, and the entire Clan, was just waiting for the two of them to address what was clearly between them.

  “Thanks, Davy!” Aiden smirked.

  “Now, if you can pull yourself together, we do have some guests who are rather anxious tae see you,” Ranulf said with the beginnings of a smile.

  Aiden tried to compose himself by adopting the bored, somewhat aloof, look perfected as a member of the Phoenix Guard.

  “Perfect,” Ranulf said drily which only served to thwart Aiden’s attempts.

  The main hall was filled with noise and activity as the rest of the hunting party arrived. Aiden and Ranulf pushed through, and Aiden greeted cousins and friends he had not seen since he was very young. There was Rory, uncharacteristically blonde; Diarmad, easy going and about Aiden’s own age. He remembered Diarmad as the peacekeeper among his aunt’s family. Then there was Fiona, their sister, and her husband. Neither Aiden’s aunt nor uncle had come, a reoccurring illness to blame.

  But Aiden had thought that there was another cousin: the youngest boy. Diarmad answered his unspoken question by gesturing to a young man standing apart. He came forward reluctantly, kee
ping his right arm hidden in the folds of his cloak. Aiden wondered at this, and obviously the young man had not joined the hunt. Diarmad put an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

  “You remember Kenneth,” he said.

  Kenneth made no move to shake hands as he stared coldly at the floor. Rory looked slightly uncomfortable, and a flash of sadness crossed Fiona’s face. Kenneth glared angrily at Diarmad as his brother nudged him meaningfully. In that moment the cloak moved, and Aiden saw Kenneth’s deformed right hand.

  He hid any surprise or sympathy he felt and extended his left hand. “Hope you don’t mind. I prefer tae use my left hand.”

  Everyone looked surprised, not the least of whom was Kenneth. He hesitantly clasped Aiden’s hand and gave him a quick look of gratitude.

  “I won’t keep you standing here any longer. The meal is almost ready, and I know I’m starving,” Aiden said.

  The group broke apart as everyone hurried to change from their hunting clothes.

  Any meal among the Clans was never quiet, and that night, especially with visitors, was no exception. Aiden sat at the head table with his family and cousins, recalling visits when they were younger. Most of them involved Will, Rory, and Aiden. Even Kenneth smiled amidst the uproarious laughter. It was late when they finally left the table. Diarmad caught up to Aiden in the hallway.

  “Aiden, I just wanted tae say thanks for the way you handled Kenneth,” he said.

  “It can’nae be easy for him,” Aiden commented.

  “Aye, it’s not. I’m surprised he even came at all.”

  “Can I ask how it happened? He was still so young when I last saw you. I don’t remember much about him,” Aiden said.

  “He was born with it,” Diarmad said. “And because of it, he keeps tae himself most of the time. Especially after getting bullied when he was younger.”

  Aiden shook his head, angry at the cruelty of people.

  “I stopped it whenever I could, but he told me he didn’t need me tae protect him. But he never learned tae fight,” Diarmad said.

  “Never?” Aiden raised an eyebrow in surprise.