Coyote Chronicles

by Anton Le Roy

  “As would I, Sir.”

  A little girl with bright blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a smile gorgeous enough to melt anyone’s heart greets me back upstairs. Aha, it’s the waif who found me. She hands me a bowl of stew and a piece of black bread, which is well timed because I’m famished.

  “My name is Eve,” she declares.

  Getting back upstairs was even harder a slog and it takes a while to catch my breath before replying, “Hello, Eve.”

  “I’m five an Aunty Wetlock told me to tell you to eat that all up like a good little boy!” she says proudly.

  “Oh, did she now?”

  “Uh huh! I helped her chop up the carrots. Come on, let’s go an sit down.”

  I follow her to the table in the kitchen and she watches me eat. Just like the room I awoke in this one is also full of bookshelves with tatty old books, more incense, more strange bottles full of strange objects and liquids, more dried herbs and dead things with legs hanging from the ceiling. You know, general witchiness.

  Swallowing down a tasty mouthful I say, “Thanks for helping me when I fell from my horse.”

  She shrugs. “S’okay. I knew to shout for Aunty Wetlock cos she’s good at making people feel better. Do you like rabbits?”

  “Rabbits... I guess so. Why?”

  She shrugs. “There’s lots in this field I walk to an I keep trying to catch one but they never wanna be my friend.”

  “You can’t force someone to be your friend.”

  “That’s not fair cos I wanna be theirs!”

  “Sometimes you have to wait and let them want to come to you in their own time.”

  Two big eyes looking up. “Can we be friends?”

  “Aye, why not.”

  A big smile to go with the eyes.

  Wetlock walks back in, seems surprised at the scene.

  “Me an Mr Veteran are friends!” Eve proclaims.

  Wetlock laughs at that and all of a sudden the light that shines from her is dazzling and I can’t stop staring. She’s like the sun entering the room in mortal form and it has the potential to warm the coldness within me, should I let it.

  “And the stew is excellent,” I tell Eve, “Especially the carrots.”

  “Really?”

  A nod.

  “Thanks!” A determined look on her face. Little fists on little hips. “Aunty Wetlock, I’m gonna find you some more herbs for your special potions.”

  “Thank you, Eve. Don’t be too long, night will fall soon.”

  A hop down from her stool, “Promise! See you soon, Mr Veteran!” and then she disappears in a flurry of blonde hair.

  Wetlock sits opposite me. After a while, “She’s not mine... I started looking after her when her parents died.”

  “Shame, she’s a lovely kid.”

  “Shame she’s not mine… or yours?” Then, almost as if she doesn’t want to say it, “The Reeve’s men murdered them.” I feel my hackles rising over that. I’ll make sure I kill the lot of them. Changing the subject she asks, “How was my father?”

  Don’t know what to say. I’m still getting over the shock of it.

  She doesn’t wait long for me to speak. “It’s hard, watching him slowly die, both of us being helpless to do anything about it.”

  I finally get my words together. “He’s still a great man. One of the greatest I’ve ever known.”

  Downcast eyes. A bit coy. “Thank you.”

  Sitting there for a while and comfortable with the silence. Finally, a genuine smile from her for no reason. I’ve missed it, I’ve missed her. It’s too late though. Got things to do. Always got things to do.

  Still, I want to reach out to her hand, that perfect formation of flesh and bone inches from my grasp; a simple limb capable of so much affection and strength. I choose not to reach out. We both don’t.

  It’s safer that way.

  A night of rest and then a day of more recuperation, healing and exercise. All the while there’s an image in my head: me storming the fort and cutting down all those who stand in my path until I come face to face with Satipo. Tonight is the night we’ll meet and I wonder who will speak first.

  During the healing sessions with Wetlock, we didn’t talk any more about Satipo. At least we’re getting on a bit easier now although, while she obviously seems to care about me healing, I can still sense her defensive walls and the lingering anger that prickles and keeps me at arm’s reach.

  Her curative skills continue to be exceptional because by early afternoon I’m on my feet walking about naturally. I even manage the stairs without any trouble. Daylight fades and dusk becomes night. Another dose of magic and I’m ready.

  I’m feeling stronger and almost back to my old self - old self, haha. Is that good or bad, I wonder! Even though I’m nowhere near a hundred percent fit again it’s time I left – I just can’t wait any longer because the need to find Satipo is too great. And then there’s Wetlock, I’m not sure if she wants me gone as soon as possible anyway. Not just that though, the rage burning me up after Gregor’s death never left me. It just bubbled beneath the surface. Now it’ll be released on all those deserving of my wrath.

  I’m dressed in my gear with the familiar weight of armour, cloak and weapons on my person and it feels good to be surrounded by trusted items. I haven’t bothered with the layers of furs I’ve previously been wearing in these cold lands because that would hinder me greatly in a fight and it’ll be quicker dying by a blade than from the cold.

  There is my sword, Fenix, Fussby’s blade, pieces of light armour and knives that I’ve carried for decades, plus the new additions: Daida’s beautifully decorated quiver full of arrows and a matching bow promising incredible power and accuracy. My fingers trace the elegant curves and patterns carved into the dark wood. Have strung it already because it will be used very soon. I’m not much of a marksman and this will certainly improve matters. Thank you, Daida.

  A look out of the window. The town is settling down for the night as the last rays of daylight stretch shadows into a blanket of darkness. With no full moon it’ll be gloomy. Perfect.

  There’s the sound of someone’s shoulder leaning against the door frame behind me. I don’t turn to look.

  “You may be fit enough to ride a horse,” Wetlock observes, “You’re not however fit enough to ride it to war.”

  I keep my back to her the whole time. Coward. “I have to do this, tonight.”

  A frustrated tut. “Then all my efforts to heal you were a waste of time?”

  “No.” One fist involuntarily grips the hilt of one sword and tightens hard. “I’m going to avenge that girl’s parents, I’m going to avenge the people of Awl, and I’m going to stand in front of Satipo for the first time in decades and finally finish things. You gave me the opportunity to do this. If it wasn’t for you and your kindness, despite our past, I wouldn’t be able to even try.”

  She mulls this over for a moment before saying, “You’re still too weak. Just wait a while longer and let me heal you more. Then go and do what you have to do.”

  That would be nice, to stay here a little longer… “No… I have to try now, before it’s too late.”

  She pauses before muttering. “Still a stubborn bastard.”

  “Aye, that’s me alright.”

  At last I turn to her and what I see makes my chest ache. By all the gods she is… perfection.

  “Okay,” she says, jutting out her chin, “Just to be clear, you’re going to walk straight into the Newborn’s den, get past all of the Reeve’s men, and simply talk with Satipo, a man who wants you dead?”

  Where have I heard this argument before? “You’re sounding just like Gregor!”

  “Then he was right too!”

  He may have been right about a great many things. Too late now though.

  As if talking to a stupid kid she asks, “What’s your plan, then, to not get killed the second you set foot in there?”

  “Don’t have one,” I reply honestly.

&nbs
p; A harsh chuckle. “Figures!”

  “Sometimes improvisation works as well as any best laid plan. Your dad told me that once. Look, all I know is that I’m going to go in there and kill every one of those sons of bitches. Then I’m going to chat with Satipo.”

  Her moving closer to me. “And just what are you going to say to him?”

  Gregor asked me the same thing and I didn’t know back then. Still don’t know now. “I haven’t figured that one out yet.”

  Her voice becomes a whisper. “Then tell me, are you going to meet Satipo for forgiveness… or retribution?”

  Haven’t figured that one out either. Maybe both. What I do know is that, “What I do tonight isn’t just for me. It’s for the people of Awl too. It’s for your town and it’s for Eve.”

  A playfully mocking tone of voice. “Are you trying to be a hero?”

  My laughter is harsh, perhaps more than I intended. I would never aim to be such a man. While I had always wanted to do the right thing, my soldiering time in the Red Dogs is tainted with things I had to do under order or things I had to do to survive. My quests outside of the Red Dogs were usually for personal gain and if I managed to help people along the way then what a good little bonus that was. Had the ultimate goal not been confronting Satipo, would I still be going in there? For Awl, for Broken Naile, for Eve? Yes, I think so, even if just for the sheer recklessness of it, even though the potential thrill of another escapade seems somewhat dulled. I need Gregor there. I need a witness for our, I mean my, great deeds. Selfishness. With him gone, what point is there? I may as well be Daida or I may as well finish it in glory! Does that mean you can you call this heroic? I’m not sure.

  “I’m no hero. Never have been. I just do what needs to be done.”

  “If you say so,” she retorts. “You don’t give yourself enough credit though. Heroes aren’t always charming knights in shining armour, you know.”

  “What, you don’t think I’m charming? Now that’s a terrible surprise!”

  She can’t stop herself smiling at that.

  I then say, as if confessing to a priest, “I’ve done some bad things in my time.”

  She nods sympathetically. “I know. I also know you did what you had to do as a soldier.”

  Does that still excuse my sins?

  “Vet,” she says moving forward a little more, and then she stalls before getting too close. There’s a vulnerability in her standing there. Once again she seems like the terrified girl I once vowed to protect till the end of days. “For once, just listen to me. There’s simply too many of them. Even in your prime you would’ve struggled to do this. What if you don’t make it back alive?”

  “Then so be it.”

  Wide eyes. Briefly. Then they become hard and piercing. Judgemental. “You’re going in there to die, aren’t you…?”

  I look away from her. “I’m going in there to finish things!”

  “Exactly! I think you know now, as well as I do, that Satipo isn’t just going to hug and make up. He’s too far past that!”

  “Doesn’t mean I should give up on him yet. For years he’s lived in pain and I want to help heal it for him. Help him find the man he once was.”

  “By offering him your life?”

  If that’s what it takes. I’d sacrifice myself if it meant saving Satipo. Would that really be such a bad a way to go? I’d finally be at peace with my past and I’ve nothing left to live for anyway.

  “I have to try to save him,” I mutter, turning to leave.

  “And what about you? Who’s going to save you?”

  No one can. Not even her. My path leads only towards that intercepting comet and there’s no escaping that day of reckoning. Not knowing what to say I decide to keep walking. However, before I make it to the door her words give me pause.

  “Do you know how hard it was for me when I saw you laying on the ground, almost dead?” she snaps, “Seeing you again after all these years?” There, her anger that was simmering below the surface now rises to the fore. “During our short time together we were everything and then for decades after that we were as nothing! For decades it was as if what we once shared had never been. I wanted to despise you! I wanted to curse your name to the winds, curse your name in spells and potions!” Anger fades a little to be mixed with something like defeat. “Despite this, I could never truly hate you. You were always in my thoughts and I couldn’t help wondering what could have been. I waited for you. Waited and waited and you never returned. I learned to move on from that, to live my life the fullest way I knew how.” Then the fury returns. “Now you’re here again! Once more you turn my world upside down, and then, after barely a few days, once more you’re about to leave!”

  Her words hit me hard. My mind spins. “You think I don’t hate myself for hurting you?”

  She sets her jaw. “Yet still you continue do it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, closing my eyes. There’s no turning back from my path now. I have to see it through. I have to go to Satipo. He calls to me, even if not intentionally. There and only there lies my fate and there can be no other way. It’s my destiny. This is where my life on the road has been leading me. There are still different choices I could make from here on, I could quite easily step from the path. I can’t. I won’t. “This,” I pat the pommel of my sword, “This is what I am… This is what I do…”

  “I know.” She shakes her head, “And I’m the idiot for thinking anything could actually be any different for you.” When she looks at me again the vulnerability is gone, replaced by that solid steel wall I’ve gotten used to over the past few days. “Go, then. Do what must be done.”

  With a nod I turn and as I leave I cannot escape the cold feeling within, like a sharp blade slowly sliding deeper into my gut, and I hate myself for it.

  Eve is outside the door as I walk down the stairs. She’d obviously been listening. In one hand a bundle of plants and flowers, dry dirt dropping from the freshly dug roots and tracing a trail back down the steps. “Are you going now, Mr Veteran?”

  “Aye.”

  Disappointment. Sad face. Get used to it, kid.

  “Are you gonna kill the Reeve an the bad men?” she whispers.

  “Aye.”

  “Good,” she replies firmly. Then, movement catches my attention and I realise a little brown rabbit is sitting happily at her feet. She beams. “You was right, I waited and he came to me after all!”

  Chapter 22

  The night is chilled, something I’d almost forgotten living in the cosy warmth of Wetlock’s home for the past few days. She still clouds my thoughts and there’s a desire to return to her, to stay in her home with her, to stay in her bedroom with her, to once more lay naked in front of a fire with her and forget about the world. It’s as if all my lost years mean naught and I’m once more that kid who wants nothing more than to just be with her.

  After the day the Six fell I also fell, descending into an increasing spiral of melancholy, pushing Wetlock away in the process. I pushed and pushed until we reached breaking point and I left, leaving her heartbroken. I always intended to return to her and then the longer I was away the harder it became. Guilt and grief destroyed me and the road took me in its arms till I could never step off it. Years bled away. Decades bled away. Finally, I became the man I am today. Surely she wouldn’t want me back now? Surely it’s too late for me, for us? I grind my teeth in frustration and keep shaking the thoughts from my head before they become too distracting. Satipo’s face comes to mind and I focus on him instead. He’s my goal now. Him and the bastards I need to kill.

  Stars are in abundance above, like the dashing of a billion diamonds across a black tent roof, and still that unusual star is there that I’d seen before. Owls are calling. Foxes are calling. A Coyote is calling. In an alleyway opposite me I can see it lurking with two green eyes glaring. You’re trying to tell me something aren’t you? The dreams I had: that’s you’re doing, right? They mean something and I don’t know what.


  Bah, to hell with you!

  I emerge from the shadows of Wetlock’s building only to disappear into the shadows of another. And then another. It wouldn’t be wise to be seen out in the open. I sneak my way through town, passing the occasional denizens of Broken Naile who eye me with suspicion – maybe they know who I am and that the Reeve and the Newborn are searching for me. It matters not. Onwards I stalk, towards the inevitable end. How long have I waited for this moment, how long have I wanted to speak to Satipo, to plead my forgiveness and put the past to rest? At last it will happen and I’ll be free of the burden! I’m almost shaking from the anticipation.

  Pausing at the corner of a tatty old building I survey the fort in front of me. Spiked wooden timbers form the wall at over a storey high and at each corner, just as Daida said, there’s a guard, each with the usual Newborn insignia. They’re not real soldiers, they’re soft and lazy, not bothering to walk the perimeter and instead just lazing at their posts. Arrogant. Naive. They won’t know I’m here till it’s too late. I’m going to meet Satipo on my terms and these scumbags in my way will learn to not be in my way!

  Stairs to my right lead to a rooftop with a perfect view of the fort. Once up there I notch an arrow and pick the nearest target. It’s a tough shot, especially in the dark, at this distance and with my failing eyesight. I’m no archer either and would much rather a crossbow. Had enough lessons to give it a shot though.

  He’s completely oblivious to the arrow that zips by his head, which is lucky! Then a second try and this one thuds home. No scream sounds the alarm as he slumps back onto his seat. Perfect. Realising I’m being watched by a young couple in window right next to me I put a finger to my lips and gesture for them to be quiet. Wide-eyed, they leave me to it.

  Down the stairs and crossing the street knowing that with the first sentry dead I can now get close to the wall. Continuing to where I guess the second guard to be I take a coin from my belt purse and ping it upwards, the metal glistening in the torchlight until it falls back onto my palm. A second time and there’s movement above. A curious head peers over the edge of the wall to look down and before he can call out my arrow rams up under his jaw and into his brain. His body slumps over the wall to be snagged by the wooden spikes. That was a much easier shot to make. Two men down.