by Sean Kikkert
With his arm still draped around Cassandra’s shoulders and Castor close behind, Ajax led Cassandra out of the city.
“Don’t you worry about a thing, Cassandra. By the time I’m done training you, you’ll be able to take on three burly, crooked-nosed knaves like that all by yourself—without too much of a problem.”
Behind them, a beautiful young woman with a button nose, flowing blonde hair, and a blood-red cloak stepped out of the shadows. Perfect, all except for the small, jagged scar on her chin, she’d watched with deepening interest as Ajax and Castor had beaten down the three thugs. Now, though, her green-blue eyes were trained on them as they wandered away with the pretty young girl.
A puzzled expression floated across the young woman’s face. She’d witnessed Cassandra snarling at the scar-faced thug. It had been a snarl that had somehow seemed very wolf-like. Not only that, but the girl seemed vaguely familiar.
The young woman knew a thing or two about wolves, and her gut was telling her that something strange was going on in Brakchester. And she, Red Riding Hood, would get to the bottom of it.
Chapter 5
It was a steamy, humid day, and the town hall was stifling hot and stuffy. Everything inside was old and dusty; the building itself smelled of ancient, damp wood, and Morton couldn’t wait to go outside and get himself some fresh air. He hated these town meetings—especially in this crumbling old hall. He’d been petitioning the king for a nicer town hall for as long as he could remember—preferably a place that could actually accommodate all of the citizens who cared to attend these meetings.
Yes, the location was half of his problem, but the people themselves were the other half. Morton was quite sick and tired of hearing their endless complaints. It seemed to him that the kingdom’s citizens whined about pretty much everything in their daily lives. And today, everyone seemed to be complaining about the same thing—wolves.
“Lord Mayor,” an annoying young man with a shrill, excited voice whined, “we need to do something about all these wolf sightings. The number of wolves in the area grows at an unprecedented rate.”
Morton sighed. “Have there been any reports of attacks?” He was beyond attempting to conceal the weariness in his voice.
“Not yet, Lord Mayor,” the young man conceded, with much reluctance. “However, these are not normal wolves. The ones being reported are enormous, monstrous beasts with gleaming red eyes.”
Morton’s head throbbed as he wondered what the people were getting at. Were the supposed wolves something more than wolves?
When Cassandra came to visit him the next morning, Ajax was already sitting on his front porch, waiting for her. They said their hellos and made cursory small talk, then Ajax led the way to his back gate.
The grass in front of Ajax’s house was little more than an overgrown jungle, and Cassandra fully expected to see the same out in the back. Instead, Cassandra whistled her approval as she wandered around the immaculate space behind his house. Ajax had built a large, wooden deck complete with thick animal pelts in case they fell. He had wooden daggers and swords adorning the space behind his house, along with a table filled with blunted metal weapons for more advanced practice. Razor-sharp swords hung on one wall, next to which leaned a rack of javelins and long spears.
Ajax laughed when he saw Cassandra staring at his impressive array of weaponry with wide eyes. “I love combat,” he said. “So, I built a place where I would feel inspired to train my hardest.”
As they spoke, Ajax’s Uncle Leander approached. Leander was a pudgy, middle-aged man with a rapidly spreading bald-patch in the middle of his head. A cold shudder ran through Cassandra’s body when she spotted him coming their way. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but there was something about the man that made her uncomfortable.
Leander paused briefly to look over at Ajax, only continuing toward them once Ajax gave him a nod. “You must be very special for Ajax to train you,” Leander said to Cassandra. “Combat is incredibly sacred to him. He would only share it with someone whom he considers most worthy.”
Cassandra blushed at the older man’s words.
Leander paused and glanced at Ajax, as if he’d already run out of things to say. “You must excuse me; I really should get going. I’ll leave you two puppies to it.” And with that, Leander strode away.
The brief chat with Ajax’s uncle unsettled her. Leander was nice enough, albeit a tad strange, and she’d always found it weird how nervous he was around Ajax; it was almost as though Ajax was the adult and Leander the child.
“It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” Cassandra observed awkwardly, more for something to break the strained silence than anything else.
Without replying, Ajax grabbed Cassandra by her shoulders with his massive hands. Pulling her firmly toward him, he commanded, “Try to break free.”
Cassandra struggled to break his powerful grip, but he was too strong for her. “You’re hurting me!” she moaned. Her shoulder throbbed its complaint beneath the pressure.
Ajax gave out a reluctant sigh. He pulled Cassandra toward him with a sharp tug. “When you’re in a real fight, your attacker is going to be much rougher than me,” he whispered into Cassandra’s ear. “When someone is rough with you, I need you to be able to think clearly and not panic.”
Cassandra continued to struggle. She slipped, and Ajax pulled her back to her feet with little effort.
“Put your thumb on the back of my hand,” Ajax instructed. “Good. Now, twist my hand and put pressure on my wrist. Imagine all your energy is flowing down from your hand and into my wrist.”
Cassandra twisted Ajax’s wrist—hard. The pressure took Ajax straight down to his knees. “I did it!” Cassandra squealed with excitement as she gazed into Ajax’s upturned face. “You’re completely at my mercy!”
Ajax chortled. “That was good,” he said. “But don’t get too excited yet. You must keep on practicing.”
At this, Cassandra sighed.
Still, she practiced and practiced until she was able to get herself out of Ajax’s holds effortlessly and without even thinking. At the end of what seemed to be hours of performing that same move, Cassandra was so thrilled with her own progress that she gave Ajax a big hug.
“You see,” Ajax said, delighted with his friend, “that’s muscle memory. And that’s what we’re aiming for with all of our techniques. You shouldn’t ever have to think about what to do—just let your instinct and training take over. Never hesitate in a fight, Cassandra, for it is far better to do the wrong thing than to do nothing at all. It is hesitation and uncertainty that get us killed.”
Chapter 6
Nestor couldn’t sleep.
Worry filled his mind. Even though it was beyond midnight, he needed to speak to his pack leader—immediately. Nestor was leaving for a hunt at dawn, and the urgency of the issue weighed so heavily on his mind that it could not wait until after he returned.
It began raining as Nestor stepped outside, a heavy shower of fat, lazy raindrops. He lowered his head against the wetness and jogged. Within minutes, the rain had made a damp, dead weight of his clothes, and by the time he arrived at Telemachus’ home, Nestor was breathless, pink-faced, and soaked to the bone.
Telemachus’ door was, as usual, unlocked. Nestor had to duck his enormous frame down low to fit through the doorway. Water fell from his huge head as he made his way to the great hall, leaving a shimmering, wet trail along the floor.
All was dark and quiet in Telemachus’ home. The great hall was filled with sleeping pack members. Some of them were in human form, while others preferred to sleep as wolves; werewolves needed to alternate regularly between the two forms in order to maintain their true sense of balance. Even though each pack member had their own home, such was the feeling of unity and oneness amongst the pack that the members treated Telemachus’ hous
e as a second home.
“Wake up, my lord!” Nestor vigorously shook his pack leader.
Telemachus yawned and brushed a wayward strand of wavy, brown hair out of his face. “What is it?” He sounded irritated. “The sun isn’t even up yet.” Nestor wondered if he had been too hasty in interrupting his pack leader’s slumber.
“My lord,” Nestor said, “I’m worried we’re becoming too complacent. We’ve been blessed with a land in which to live in peace, but we cannot forget our past. We should be preparing to defend ourselves.”
A look of surprise flashed over Telemachus’ face. “Is this what you’ve woken me for?” he grumbled. “Nestor, I think we’ve finally found what we’ve been searching for all these years. Our neighbors are good people; they won’t bother us if we don’t bother them. I’m sure they’ll allow us to live in peace.”
Nestor was not reassured. “I do hope so, my lord. However, I believe we should live for peace and prepare for war. We simply cannot forget the lessons of our history. We’ve been persecuted so often. I believe we need to be prepared to defend our homes and families at a moment’s notice.”
Telemachus thought for a moment. He scratched absently at his thick, earthy hair. “What are you suggesting, my friend?”
“I understand Ajax is teaching combat to Cassandra,” Nestor said. “All the adults in the pack know how to fight, but our puppies do not. I think our young men and women need to learn.”
Telemachus clenched and unclenched his fist. He stared at the gap on his hand where two fingers were missing. Nestor remembered the day Telemachus lost those fingers as if it were yesterday. It was a stark reminder that he and the pack were, indeed, often required to fight for survival.
“You speak great wisdom, my friend,” Telemachus said after a long pause. “I’ve listened to your counsel in the past, and it has always been of great benefit to me. Very well, Nestor, we’ll prepare to defend ourselves.”
Cassandra made her way into the clearing with the rest of the pack’s gathered youth. The puppies were excited to stop their work in the fields while the adults labored on without them. The sky had turned a nasty, slate gray, and the air was hot and humid. Telemachus and Ajax waited for her.
The pack leader welcomed the young werewolves in his deep, bellowing voice. “As you know,” he roared, “it has been decided that you puppies need to learn how to defend yourselves, which means that each of you must learn how to fight. I know combat will not be new to everyone here. I, myself, taught Ajax to fight, and I’m very pleased that Cassandra has asked Ajax to teach her.” Telemachus smiled at Cassandra. “I would like Cassandra to come up here and demonstrate what she has learned.”
Cassandra looked at him in surprise. She gazed down at her feet with embarrassment as she made her way toward Telemachus and Ajax. Cassandra glanced nervously at Ajax as she took her place next to him.
“You’ll be just fine,” Ajax whispered. “You’ve got this.” With that, he grabbed Cassandra’s dress at her shoulders with both hands and pulled her in firmly.
Instinctively, Cassandra twisted Ajax’s hand and pressed down hard on his wrist—just as she’d practiced with him over and over again. This time, however, Ajax’s eyes bulged in pain and he screamed out loud.
Cassandra’s heart stopped. Shocked, she let go of her friend’s wrist. What had she done to him?
Crouching there, Ajax moaned and cradled his wrist in his uninjured hand. Cassandra had never seen Ajax act like this before—she must have really hurt him! She feared she had accidentally broken her friend’s wrist. She looked up to see everyone staring at her.
Suddenly, Ajax let go of his wrist and stood up straight. A wide, mischievous grin replaced his grimace of pain. “I really had you going there, didn’t I?” He laughed at Cassandra as the pack’s youth hooted at his joke.
Relief flooded Cassandra’s body as she realized she hadn’t hurt Ajax after all. She gave her friend a playful punch on the shoulder. “Play a trick like that on me again,” Cassandra whispered to him, “and I’ll break your bones for real.”
“Do you think we can get back to learning combat now?” Telemachus barked. Cassandra jumped a little at his deep, resonant voice. “I’m only trying to keep you puppies alive, after all. Okay, everyone, change into wolves. Move it!”
Despite his stern façade, Cassandra saw that Telemachus was trying his best to hide a smirk. And, when he thought Cassandra wasn’t looking, the pack leader gave Ajax a wink.
The pack’s youth combat classes were particularly intense, as Telemachus had designed them for werewolves. Cassandra not only had to master the use of her hands and feet, but she also had to learn how to use teeth, paws, and claws. Telemachus had created a brutal obstacle course for them to complete as wolves, which involved walls to climb and hurdles to jump. They also had to crawl through trenches, jump through burning rings, and bite through pumpkins, watermelons, bamboo, and bundles of sticks.
“Way to go, Cassandra!” Telemachus shouted at the lupine Cassandra as she bit a plump pumpkin clean in half.
After training was over, Cassandra lay on her back in the long, dry grass, her chestnut brown hair matted with sweat. Many of the youth panted heavily in wolf form, but Cassandra and a few of the older ones had changed back into humans; the clever ones had learned heat dissipated through skin far easier than through fur and a panting tongue.
The humid air of the forest was unbearably stifling, which made it difficult for Cassandra to draw a refreshing breath. Cassandra was far too drained to even move. In fact, she wondered if she would ever be able to move again. I really don’t think I can make it home, she thought. Maybe I’ll just sleep here tonight.
Cassandra’s thoughts were interrupted when she saw Ajax walking toward her. With a warm smile, he sat down beside her.
“I was wondering if you would like to do something Friday night?” He was clearly doing his very best to sound casual.
“Of course,” Cassandra replied. “You do mean with Castor, as well, I assume?”
“No.” Ajax was rather blunt. “I thought we could spend some time alone together.”
Cassandra sat up. She scrutinized her friend—Ajax had taken her quite by surprise. “Are you trying to court me, Ajax?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Maybe.” He sounded nonchalant. “But also, think of it as part of your training.”
The idea of spending time alone with Ajax excited Cassandra; it was something she’d often dreamed of. Even though they had time alone when Ajax trained her, Ajax was so focused and intense during their training sessions. Cassandra hoped that this time alone would be more carefree and relaxed. “Okay.” She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” Ajax stood up to leave. “I’ll leave you a note on Friday. That’ll explain everything.”
That night, Cassandra had butterflies in her stomach and couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t wait for Friday to come, and for most of the following week, Cassandra spent her time daydreaming about her upcoming night with Ajax. The rest of her time went by in a blur of exhausting combat training, which left Cassandra feeling constantly tired; she was nonetheless gratified to sense the muscles firming up as her body became conditioned.
Trying to gain some relief from the aches and stiffness, Cassandra flexed and stretched her muscles on Friday morning before leaving the house. As she stepped out the door, she saw it. There was a package wrapped up in brown paper on the step, along with a note nailed to the door.
Excitement surged through Cassandra as she tore open the package. It was the pretty, blue tunic dress she’d ordered from the tailor in Brakchester. It warmed Cassandra’s heart to know that Ajax had traveled all the way to the city to pick up the dress for her. Breathlessly, she ripped the note from the door and began reading.
As she
read the letter, Cassandra’s heart dropped, and a sickly knot formed in the pit of her stomach. He must be joking! she thought. Sure, she hadn’t expected Ajax to arrive at her door bearing gifts and flowers. But did he really think this was a good place to meet up? There must be something seriously wrong with the boy!
Chapter 7
What a crooked-nosed knave! Cassandra thought to herself, beyond angry at Ajax. Fancy asking me to travel to Brakchester! On my own! Without even offering to escort me! She simply couldn’t believe it. Ajax knew full well she’d been attacked the last time she’d visited the city. Fuming, Cassandra chewed down hard on a fat stick until she bit it clean in half.
Eventually, however, she calmed down.
“You can’t be serious?” Castor exclaimed in disbelief as Cassandra told him about her evening’s plans. “Why is Ajax asking you to do that? He knows it’s dangerous!”
“It’ll be fine.” Cassandra kept her tone casual and tried to portray a confidence she didn’t actually feel. “That’s one of the things I like about Ajax. He’s so mysterious and daring.”
Castor sighed. “I really don’t know about this, Cassandra. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk.”
“Yes, it’s dangerous,” Cassandra agreed. “But that’s not always a bad thing—sometimes it’s fun to be scared.”
Cassandra beamed with satisfaction as she put on her new, freshly tailored blue tunic. Of course, she hadn’t expected she’d be wearing it for the first time at such an unusual location, but the mystery surrounding her upcoming date with Ajax just added to how grown-up she felt.