Wolfehaven

by Foy W Minson

  “Dad, quick, we have to get back to —”

  But his hearing, though fading with his years, easily picked up the growing furor. He pulled his arm away from Darla’s clutching hand and faced upstream. The nearest men were fifty feet away and closing fast. “What — who — where in the world —?”

  Before he could form his question, they were upon him. The man that hit him wasn’t all that big, but big enough. Although he carried an axe, he held it out to the side as he leaned his shoulder into the lead, ramming it into the old man’s chest. Like a bowling ball striking a single pin still standing, he knocked the old man careening sideways toward the river, over the edge of the road, and down. The younger man never stopped to see what fate he had sent the old man to. Ignoring the cries of the woman, he continued racing toward the riverside community.

  Darla screamed once when her father disappeared over the edge and dropped to her knees at the brink, peering over at the crumpled figure sprawled unmoving on his back at the bottom with his right arm and head in the water, the water flowing past him tinting red. About mid-thigh, his left leg jutted at an unnatural angle. Catching her breath, she began screaming again, one after another while she gazed at a man she had loved dearly for almost fifty years.

  Suddenly a terrible pain burned her scalp, and she felt herself lifted to her feet. Dangling from the fist in her hair, her feet barely touched the ground. She rotated until she peered into the face of the man holding her. His expression was so full of hate and revulsion she would have retreated if not held. Then, without a word, he flung her to the side, toward the river, over the precipice that had taken her father. The last thing she saw was the old man’s broken body seeming to rush toward her as she plummeted.

  ◆◆◆

  Dan leaned back to rest against the bole of a tree while he gazed at the river rolling away from him on its way to the sea. He had wandered out to the west edge of Wolfehaven while pondering marvelous recent events and disturbing revelations.

  He had come far to be there, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would be satisfied, now, to remain. He had grown accustomed to travel in the last six years, usually alone. Before meeting up with Raymond, he had shared his camps with a few men, and a couple of women, but none that promised any kind of shared future — not like he had been contemplating recently with Sherri. Of course, after all she had been through with the husband who had been forced upon her, she may not want to tie herself to another man — ever.

  Raymond had been with him longer than anyone else, and he liked the man. But that was when he thought Raymond was a man. He wasn’t sure what he felt now. He couldn’t really come up with a solid reason to not like him. The secret of Raymond’s true self was a secret for a good reason. He understood that when he forced himself to think rationally. And with the secret revealed, Raymond seemed to be openly willing to tell him anything he might ask about. He thought back about his reaction and how he had spoken to Raymond like a petulant child. When his face burned with shame even though no one else was present, he realized it gave him his answer. In his heart, he knew he had been wrong. He would find Raymond and apologize…and then maybe he’d find Sherri. As he had said to Dagar, he would like to know her better.

  Just as he stood upright and started to turn, he heard a piercing scream. It was a single, short scream of a woman followed within seconds by a continuing series of screams that sounded like the same woman. Her final scream came after a short pause and ended abruptly. It came from the direction of the village, and it sounded like even a ways beyond the far side. He listened for more, but he heard only men’s harsh voices growing in volume and hostility.

  As he approached a point from which he would be able to see past the village houses lining both sides of the curving road, Raymond slipped around the corner and crouched. His own pounding footsteps alerted Raymond who turned and motioned him to duck down and join him behind the wall.

  Raymond’s face reflected the fear in his voice. “Raiders!”

  “How many?”

  “Four or five dozen. Hard to count the way they’re running around. But they’re not here to trade. They’re killing!”

  Dan sprang back to his feet and started to round the corner. “I gottta get my sword.”

  “No! The house is on the east side, and they’re already into the village. You’d never make it.”

  “But, I’ve got to do something! We can’t just hide here while they butcher everyone.”

  More screams penetrated the air about them. Harsh shouts and curses, even laughter, filled the silence after the screams stopped — until more screams began.

  “What about the swords you told me about that Dagar had in his academy? Or did they take them upriver?”

  “Yeah! Some, probably, but maybe not all. Maybe I can get there. But you’d better find a better hiding place.”

  “I will after I try to contact Raven. But, you go now! Hurry!”

  With a silent nod, Dan dashed across the roadway to the closest cover behind the first house on the other side, and then, along the wall to the back, and on from there. It was hard to ignore the screams still breaking through the men’s shouts, but he could do little without a weapon. He doubted his solitary defense against such so many foes would have much effect, anyway, but he had to do something.

  He made it to the back corner of the last house before the small practice area in front of the academy and froze. Another man had just come around the other back corner and saw him at the same time. He was fairly sure it was one of the raiders even though he hadn’t been in the village long enough to know everyone. The man strode forward in a swagger that better fit a ruthless raider than a terrified villager.

  “Well, well, I’ve got myself another little demon-lover all to myself.” The man’s grin spread as he bore down on Dan. He was armed with a large club with a dozen or so large nails driven part way in all around the knobby end. There was no mistaking the red smears.

  Playing to the man’s belief that Dan was just another meek and unarmed villager who had no idea how to fight back, or the stomach for it, he went into a crouch in which he turned partly away from the attacker. When the man came within range and before the club cocked back over his shoulder started forward, Dan pivoted on his trailing foot, swinging his other leg out in a sweeping roundhouse, and drove the toe of his boot into the man’s ample gut.

  The only sound after the impact was a whoosh and a grunt after which the surprised man sagged to his knees with his mouth gaping wide and his eyes wider.

  Before the raider could catch his breath and call out for help, Dan drew the knife he always carried on his belt and drove it into the man’s heart. Jerking his blade free, he turned and sprinted to the door of the academy.

  ◆◆◆

  Emmie guided the last boat to the slope of a sandy beach where it came to rest next to the others, some still unloading. Woody lifted Amy over the side of his boat and set her on the ground beside Geo who took her hand and led her after Raven who was already several paces away with Jamal. Erin joined in the task of unloading the supplies while Jason walked over to join Charlie talking to some men from the village on the tree-shrouded hill above them. As each person climbed out of the boat they arrived in, they gathered up something to carry and, herding their youngsters, headed up the beach. Smiles and happy greetings were the order of the day.

  With a stuffed back-pack slung over one shoulder, Emmie jogged up to join Raven, scooping up Amy in her free arm as she came even. “Ooh! I want this one!”

  Amy squealed and wrapped her arms about Emmie’s neck.

  “Okay,” Raven responded with a broad grin. “But you have to feed her.”

  “Uh oh! That’s not what I had in mind. How about if I just eat her, instead?” With that, Emmie turned the girl around in her arms until she was belly up and dipped her head to nibble at the bare skin with her lips.

  Squeals became howling laughter and flailing arms and legs.

  Emmie dumped her bac
k on her feet and said, “Ugh! Too soft and way too sweet! I want something tough and stringy. How about Jamal?”

  The squeals quickly became words. “No! Eat Geo! He’s there! He’s there!” And like a whirlwind, she spun about and tore up the beach after her brother who had joined some of the boys of Riverhill.

  Still wearing a wide grin, Raven leaned over to nudge her friend with a shoulder and then fell in beside her. “Oh, it’s going to be so good to — uhn!”

  As Raven went to her knees with her free hand going to the side of her head, Emmie made a quick grab to catch Jamal before he could fall free. Then, on her own knees beside her friend, she cried, “Raven! What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Within seconds, Woody joined Emmie and took his wife into his arms. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Others around them stopped and some moved closer. Jason and Charlie came running, followed by their hosts. Just as Jason crouched beside his daughter, Raven jerked her head up, her eyes wide with fear, and her panicky gaze locked onto his face. “We have to go back! Now! They’re under attack!”

  ◆◆◆

  Dan’s prayer that the academy door wasn’t locked was answered, and he slipped inside. Diminished screams echoed across the village as he eased the door closed. Turning to the shadowy interior, he rushed to the sword rack beside the Plaque of Heroes. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the empty slots, but it regained its rhythm when his eyes fell on a glint of steel in the last space over. It was a replica of a medium weight broadsword common to the armies of Europe nearly a thousand years ago. Lifting it out, he held it in a fighting grip and made of couple of swings to get the feel of the weight and balance. After a quick comparison with the light, un-tempered, ceremonial blade he had found in Seattle while scavenging, a blade without even a hint of a honed edge until he gave it one. With a silent nod to Dagar’s wisdom, he turned again to the door.

  Again outside, he had only taken three steps from the door when two raiders came around the corner of a house off to the left. He froze, but they spotted him and came at a run. He turned to face them square on, holding his sword before him in readiness and wishing he had a shield on his other arm. When they had halved the distance to him they both slowed to a stop. He guessed he was the first of the villagers to confront the raiders with a weapon, and they weren’t sure how well he could use it. That was fine, though; he’d be happy to demonstrate how much he had learned in the past five years with even a flimsy joke of a blade.

  The two resumed their approach, although with less eagerness than they had first displayed. Each one held a nail embedded club at least three feet long in one hand and a knife in the other. Blood coated each weapon. Red splatters on both faces and clothing assured him that he was not their first victim. They began separating from about five paces distance.

  One spoke. “I get the sword.”

  “Not if I’m the one that kills him.”

  By the time they were within fighting range, they had spread out to five or six feet between them. With less than a two second pause, they both attacked with overhead swings of their clubs.

  Relieved that they had no better sense, Dan stepped to his right and brought his blade up and across to knock the club on that side into the other one. His immediate back-hand swing nearly decapitated the man to his right. An immediate fore-swing dispatched the other. In less than five seconds, that battle was over.

  With a second nod of silent approval to Dagar, he took the time to heft his sword again, further appreciating the quality of the blade. It was just a bit heavier, but much stronger and with a keener edge, than the one he had carried from Seattle. More cries of the villagers filled the air, and he ran to the nearest house corner and peered around.

  An elderly woman was making better speed than he would have thought possible as she ran toward him with a look of panic glazed onto her face. Behind her several yards but closing fast was a grinning man carrying a large, wide-bladed, chef’s knife. Blood coated it within an inch of the handle.

  Dan ducked back around the corner and watched the woman race past. When he judged by the sound of the man’s footfalls that he was only a pace away from also rounding the corner, he cocked his arm back with the sword upright. When the man appeared, Dan swung it with both hands like a baseball bat. The blade slashed across the man’s belly, doubling him over as he fell. When he rolled face up with agony twisting his features, Dan drove the sword point into his chest before he could cry out.

  The woman continued to run, her footfalls diminishing after she rounded the next corner toward the base of the hill behind the academy.

  ◆◆◆

  At Jason’s call, the rest of Wolfehaven’s grim faced fighters ran back to the beached boats. Since the women and children would remain behind, there was room for many of Riverhill’s fighters to join them.

  When Lila climbed into her boat, Carlene grabbed her. “No, not into battle.”

  “But, Mom, they’ll need me afterwards.”

  “Vonnie will be there.”

  “But, she can’t —”

  Jason stepped up when he saw a problem developing. “Carlene, we need all the boats. Without Lila, a lot of fighters will have to come afterwards, and they’ll likely be too late to be of much use.”

  “I don’t care. She’s too young to take into battle. What would you do if she couldn’t do what she does? You’d just do without, right? Billy Ray? Do something.”

  Billy Ray stepped over beside her, peering back at Jason and looking like he was about to challenge him.

  Several of the men waiting to board and most of the women still close enough to hear the dispute sided with Carlene, insisting that Lila should stay behind, which brought a counter protest from others who thought she was needed to power the boat and for medical treatment after the battle.

  Jason exchanged glances with Dagar. Things were getting sticky, to use The Judge’s words.

  “Jason!” Woody called from his boat behind Jason, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.

  When everyone looked, what they saw was Raven next to him with her hands covering her face and slumped against her husband.

  After a moment, she jerked her hands down and glared at the people crowding around Lila’s boat. “They’re dying!” she raged. “Right now, this very instant, our friends are being slaughtered!”

  Jason turned back to Carlene and Billy Ray, to his friends from home and the people of Riverhill. “Okay. Discussion is over. Lila goes. Everyone load-up. Now!”

  Murmurs of discord still stalled things until Dagar spoke. “Listen, Carlene, Billy Ray. I promise I will see that, after everyone is out of her boat, she’ll take it back upstream to wait until called. Please, let us go.”

  Carlene started to protest further, but Billy Ray led her away from the boat with his arm around her shoulders. After they were apart from the others, he turned her to face him, cupped her face in his huge hands, peered deeply into her eyes, and spoke several words no one else could hear. She took a deep breath with a single sob and nodded. She remained standing there when Billy Ray walked to Lila’s boat and climbed in, quickly followed by as many fighters as could fit.

  Under Woody’s control, the first boat backed into the river and turned its stern upstream before pulling forward with the current like a car exiting a parking space. It immediately lifted almost completely out of the water and accelerated like a powerful outboard motor had revved, but in silence. Raven stood beside him, leaning forward and hanging onto the windshield. Her eyes streamed tears as they stared into the distance while she maintained mental contact with Raymond. Only she, of all those around her, could grasp the chaos ahead.

  Behind the left side of Emmie’s figure standing in the prow of her boat, Warren stood on one foot and his other knee on the corner of a seat. His left hand gripped the gunnel while his right maintained a firm grip on the hilt of the sword Dagar had let him bring back home for the demonstration he was going to give. Jason held a mirrored pose on Emmie’
s right with Erin, still one of the village’s most skilled fighters, behind him. Most of the seats were taken by men from Wolfehaven, but a few from Riverhill had managed to pile in before they cast off, and all wore stern faces as they contemplated what might await them.

  Vonnie stood in the third boat with Charlie beside her. Charlie showed no emotion other than the working of his jaw muscles. His unblinking eyes betrayed his inner tension as he played out in his mind the variety of possible scenarios that could greet them when they arrived back home.

  In the next boat, standing to one side behind Lila, Billy Ray had his over-sized Claymore drawn from its sheath. He massaged its grip in a constant flexing of his ham-sized fist. His glowering face looked like he was ready to chew river stones and spit out gravel buck-shot. Dagar held onto the gunnel on her other side.

  Sayeko took the last boat, her quarterstaff secured beside her. Jason decided not to risk a sixth boatload of men racing downriver under Rod and Laura’s limited control.

  More Riverhill men were loading up in their own boats to follow, but most would be propelled only by oars and the river’s current, likely arriving too late to effect the outcome of the fight. Only three of Riverhill’s movers were strong enough to power a boat, even going downstream.

  A small rooster tail shot up behind each of the initial eight boats in the rush downstream, each mover keenly aware of the hazards on the river. They needed only scant inches of water depth, so grounding on a sandbar was little risk, but striking a partially submerged log at the speed they were going could do anything from bouncing them over it and possibly losing overboard one or more of the men they carried, to shattering the hull and killing all those onboard.