The Wolf and the Sorceress

by Brian Pemberton

  As preparations were being carried out to bury or pyre-burn the dead, Nemeila busied herself making plans to leave the castle. She knew that Aurek would defeat the largest army Parlan could possibly raise. A lone girl had beaten him once, and now it seemed she must face him again. She went to the stables, where she found Tyler tending to Sox. He had been well groomed; his coat shone like silk, the hair round his hoofs neatly combed. His mane had been brushed into a gleaming mantle of fire, hanging down the length of his neck. He stood proudly, as much a part of the equine aristocracy as his stable companions.

  “Will you come with me?” she asked, raising her hand to run her fingers through Sox’s mane, while he nuzzled her cheek.

  Tyler examined her earnest face, and raising one eyebrow in amazement that she should even need to ask, replied, “Do you really think I would let you go alone? Parlan has just received word that a group of men are riding to our aid. He is unsure how many there are, but if the band is large enough, he will lead them towards the coast in an attempt to put an end to the massacres. Why don’t we wait? It would be preferable to face Aurek and his army with an army of our own.”

  “Leave a message for Parlan saying we will mark the way for him to follow. If we catch up to the sorcerer, we can pass vital information to Parlan about their defences, and if they have any, their weaknesses. Aurek’s thugs are probably very confident about their invincibility, so far having mown down or captured all that stood in their way. If luck is on our side, they may be in for a little surprise this time.” Tyler knew better than to protest when Nemeila’s face had a stubborn set to it, and they left within the hour. A grumbling cook had provided food and a servant had placed a message in Parlan’s quarters. Tyler knew that they would have to sneak away, because if Parlan discovered their reason for leaving the castle before the band of men arrived, he would insist on riding with them. Their king had already been in too much danger to risk his life again. Sox was not the fastest animal on four legs. Shire’s were bred for strength and endurance and these attributes were what they were counting on now. The shortest way to the coast was over a range of craggy hills, an arduous journey, but one that would save them many days travel. Aurek would by necessity have to take the longer route, trailing wagons weighted down with loot, and the prisoners straggling in chains behind them. Into their fifth day of travel, there was a bitter chill in the air, a frigid wind whipping and howling around the hillside froze everything it touched. The moan of the wind was suddenly overwhelmed by the frantic screams of a child. Tyler reined Sox to a halt, and established that the cries were coming from the dense forest to their left. He nudged Sox towards the trees and ducking some low branches, entered the woods. The screams from the child increased in volume, now mingling with the coarse shouts of men. Tyler unsheathed his sword, wondering if these were Aurek’s men lying in wait for them. Nemeila spotted a young girl dodging between the trees. She looked to be about ten years old and was being chased by a group of much older boys and men. Dismounting, Nemeila ran towards the fleeing figure, and catching her up, placed a protective arm round her shoulders. Tyler took up a defensive position alongside them, sword readied for the first sign of trouble. The group of men staggered to an uncertain halt at the sight of the unwavering blade, but some stooped to arm themselves with stout branches. No matter how expert Tyler’s prowess with a sword they were outnumbered, and Nemeila was aware that a mob would always win in the end by sheer force of numbers.

  “What is this girl’s crime that calls for a virtual army of grown men to hunt her down?” Nemeila called out defiantly.

  “We are obliged to you for catching her,” ventured one of the men sarcastically, “but we will take her now, and she is none of your concern.”

  “The child is terrified,” said Tyler, grimly, “before we turn her over to you, we ask again, what she has done?” He shifted his sword, so that the blade glimmered in the feeble light filtering through the trees.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but she stole an apple,” said one of the men, gruffly, “and will be punished for it. The beating will teach her not to abuse the hospitality shown to her.”

  “Did you steal the apple?” Nemeila asked, gently.

  “No, my lady, the boy of the household who took me in stole it, and blamed me.”

  Nemeila smiled to herself, it was the first time that anyone had called her ‘My Lady’.

  “Where are your parents then?” Tyler enquired. “They were murdered when our village was raided. My father hid me before he died. The people here found me and made me work for them in return for food and shelter.” She indicated the men with a tilt of her trembling chin. “I think we will keep her with us after all,” said Nemeila, “we will find her a place to stay where she is treated with a little more kindness and will not be beaten for the mere theft of an apple. Which she says didn’t take.” “I don’t think so,” growled one of the men, clenching his fist and thrusting out his barrel chest aggressively. “Come on, let’s get them.” “Introduce the girl to Sox and get yourselves ready to ride,” Nemeila said calmly, but emphatically, “I will deal with this.” Tyler hesitated, but the glint of steel in Nemeila’s eyes brooked no argument. He sheathed his sword, lifted the girl into his arms and backed up until he collided with Sox’s rear end. Sox turned his head and when he saw the young girl in his master’s arms, turned so that his master could place the child onto his back. Nemi covered the amulet with her fingers and levelled her arms out in front of her. The argument with the angry rabble had given her the necessary time to awaken the stones in her amulet; she felt their pulsating warmth and knew they were hers to command. A searing incandescence engulfed her, and as the suddenly uneasy thugs crept closer, she released it with as much force as she could conjure. Half-blinded they staggered to a halt, the branches and other assorted weapons fell from their grasp as they scrabbled at their burning eyes. Taking advantage of the confusion, Nemeila dashed back to where Tyler anxiously waited for her. He hoisted her up onto Sox behind the young orphan they had rescued. With a hand for support, he swung himself up behind Nemeila and kicked Sox forward, heading back onto the path.

  “Are you a witch?” asked the trembling girl half-turning to peer through the greasy locks framing her grubby little face.

  “No, not really,” Nemeila giggled. “But considering what we face at the end of our journey, witchcraft could come in handy.”

  “If not a witch, where did that flash of light come from and how did you stop those bad men hurting you?”

  “It was more luck than anything else. The last dying rays of sunlight caught my amulet when I raised my arms and enhanced its power.” She was uncomfortable with the topic and wanted to change the subject. “Do you have a name, or shall we just call you Girl?”

  “It’s Bekka, although those horrid men never called me by it. They just said, ‘Over here you’ when they wanted me. Or they got my attention with a kick or a slap.”

  The moment that Nemeila called upon the forces of the amulet to stun the men chasing Bekka, Aurek screamed in agony. His hands scrabbled at his chest as a debilitating fiery pain scorched his body, almost causing him to black out and fall from his horse. The men closest to him reached out to steady him, believing he had been shot with an arrow, but when his hands finally dropped from his chest there was no blood or arrow in evidence.

  “Get away from me,” he snarled, throwing off their hands from his shoulders. The horror etched on his face and the madness in his eyes frightened them, and they wheeled their horses away from him and rode on. Regaining his composure, with a great effort, Aurek shrieked to the skies. “You think you can do battle with me you foolish bitch,” he screamed, raising his hands before him. “The sorcerer returns, stronger than ever. I will destroy this land; interfere with my plans at your peril. I will turn friend against friend, son against father, neighbour against neighbour, until death has claimed the whole kingdom. And when I find your daughter, Ilanthia, I will rip out her heart slowly in
ch by inch and send her soul into the belly of the earth, and I will feed and grow stronger still on your pain. I am all powerful.”

  From the smoking palms of his hands, jagged lightning bolts spat and crackled towards the heavens. The sky darkened and as an explosion of thunder cracked it startled the horses who shied and whinnied nervously. The wind howled mournfully as though the whole world’s dead had awakened crying at his command.

  Reluctantly and with great trepidation, one of the men chanced approaching Aurek for a second time. “It would be advisable to rest here, my lord,” risked the man, “the pathway is becoming treacherous to travel in this gloom.” “Very well, but I want sentries posted the length of the camp, no more than twenty paces apart. Make sure they stay alert, it wouldn’t do for any unwanted visitors to come calling in the night, would it?”

  The man saluted smartly with an index finger shaking with fear at the implied threat and rode off, shouting orders to make camp as he weaved his way through the wagon train.

  In the middle of the night, Aurek’s second in command approached his leader who sat huddled over a blazing fire. In his fist he clutched a bundle of cloth, hidden in the folds of which was a short stocky none too sweet smelling figure of a man.

  “He was found lurking at the perimeter of the camp. What do you want done with him?”

  Aurek unfolded himself and stood up, his height made Dermot Masters feel… short.

  “My Lord, I beg your forgiveness, but I came to impart news of vital importance which might interest you.” Full of confidence and cocky as a barnyard rooster when he was with men he could dominate, Masters’ bladder began to weaken under the icy glare of pure hatred.

  “So, we have a traitor among us, do we? And what little gem of information is in that scurvy head that I don’t already know?” Aurek rapped sharply on Masters’ forehead.

  Aurek nodded to the man holding the trembling bag of wind before him and he removed his hand from the filthy jacket. Masters almost collapsed to the ground on legs suddenly turned into half set jelly.

  “My Lord Tobyn posted a reward for the capture of a boy and girl, before he was killed. My friends and I caught them, but as we were transporting them to the castle, the little beggars managed to escape. The boy booted me in the face and broke my jaw, so I would welcome the chance for revenge. I have word that these very brats are following you, no more than a day’s ride away; on the pass crossing over the hills.”

  Aurek suddenly took heed of the fool’s ramblings. It explained the intense pain in his chest. The use of her powers, especially when she was so close would cause a temporal rift that would affect him adversely, as indeed it had done.

  “Please my Lord, I’m not a greedy man, all I ask is enough gold to make my escape.”

  Aurek stared with rising disgust at the pitiful specimen grovelling before him. “You shall have your gold. Wait here.” Stepping into his wagon, Aurek counted out a pouch of gold coins, at the same time removing a gold dagger from its sheath. “Here,” he barked, holding the pouch towards Masters, “take it.”

  As Masters fearfully took the pouch of coins, Aurek stepped closer and buried the dagger deep in the man’s heart, smiling at the look of agonised surprise on the heavily whisker-stubble face. Masters fell sideways with gouts of blood bubbling between his lips.

  “I promised you gold, and I always keep my promise.” He stooped to retrieve the pouch, but decided to leave the dagger where it was. He had no use for it now it was defiled with the peasant’s blood. Tossing the coins casually back into the wagon, he strode over to his men.

  “I want thirty men to ride back towards the castle, taking the route over the hills. There are two people coming this way, probably riding a mottled grey Shire. Bring them back to me… alive.”

  His second in command nodded. “Consider it done, my Lord.”

  Aurek watched him scuttle off to do his bidding, before dropping down by one of the campfires. He removed the book of spells from his leather breastplate and began to turn the pages. Written here, in blood and poison, were his darkest secrets. Since being banished from his own world, he had to relearn the spells that could turn a man into a pile of smouldering ash; flay the flesh from his bones; leave an enemy screaming his throat bloody and raw as his eyes melted in his head. He thought of the delicious curses at his disposal when the girl was finally brought before him. Oh how she would suffer before he finally released her into blessed death and the boy… he would be made to watch before shrieking his way through his own innovative agonising and slow death. They could then be reunited in Hell’s mouth. With these enjoyable thoughts in mind, Aurek rested his head on his arms and slept like a baby.

  From within the shadows cast by the encircled wagons, a pair of eyes watched as Aurek perused his Grimoire. A thought crossed his mind that it might be a treasure map. He couldn’t read, but that didn’t matter, he had friends for that. Spinner was a thief by trade and by nature, ‘never buy what you can steal’ was his motto, and it was something he was good at. Strolling close to where Aurek lay, he deftly removed the pouch containing the book without so much as disturbing one of Aurek’s eyelashes. On silent feet, he walked quickly away to an isolated spot where he could examine his prize. It irritated him briefly to find the pouch locked, but a good thief can always find a way in. Placing the tip of his dagger into the keyhole, he began to probe the locking mechanism. The pouch began to grow warm on his lap, but Spinner hardly noticed in his eagerness to get at its contents. Suddenly the pouch began to grow larger. At first Spinner just held it away from him, to study the phenomenon at arm’s length. By the time he decided he’d do well to get rid of it and let it fall to the ground, it had grown some extremely alarming bristly legs. Before he could skitter away from it, the creature had grown to an enormous size. The legs, eight of them, dwarfed the tallest sapling in the camp. The dancing flames of the fire that reflected the creature’s obsidian carapace, made its appearance even more menacing. Spinner tried to scream but found his tongue dried to the roof of his mouth. Two eyes the size of saucers glared down at him burning with pure evil, mandibles clicked and snapped in anticipation of such a juicy treat. Small spiders run fast, big spiders run faster. Finally Spinner found his voice as his tongue became unglued; his scream reverberating through the trees disturbed the rousting birds that took off flapping and squawking. Before his legs had managed a single pace, the spider was on him. Its two forelegs nudged him to the ground, as it sank two curved and dripping fangs into the flesh of his meaty thighs.

  The scream had not only wakened the birds, armed men followed the sound of it, but crashed into each other as they suddenly stopped and then backed away from the horror before them. The spider swayed and pulsated in their path, holding Spinner’s body clamped firmly in its jaws. The men, although brave in battle, wanted no part of this vile magic. Aurek woke as the shrieks penetrated his sleep, his hand immediately feeling for the pouch. A satisfied smile dimpled his face as he realised what had happened. At a leisurely pace, he made his way towards the men backing away from the spider. “He’s dead,” he said to the frightened mob, “a fitting end for a thief who steals from me and a lesson to all that would betray me. Go back about your business, there is nothing for you here.” The men hurried away, grateful not to have to fight the hellish monster, leaving Aurek alone. He waited patiently until the guardian of his spells had finished its meal and spat out the clothes, then with a skilled hand, Aurek reworked the ward and the spider returned to its more user-friendly shape to terrify another day. After all, every creature needed nourishment, and who was he to deny it such a feast. Picking up the pouch, he replaced it behind his breastplate, before returning to the campfire and his sweet dreams of tearing out Nemeila’s heart and draping ribbons of her flesh over the branches for the carrion crows.

  Chapter 15

  The Wolf at Dawn

  During the night it had begun to snow heavily and Tyler awoke to a shining white crystalline world. The previously clear path
was knee deep with a frozen crust that crunched underfoot. Nemeila scanned the ridge and gasped in wonder at the beauty of the trees garlanded with a glistening mantle of snow. Bekka, standing with her, was spellbound, seeing snow for the very first time. “You’re cold,” Nemeila realised the girl was shivering violently, “here, put this on.”

  She handed over the shawl she was wearing, and then concentrated on creating a ward to keep her own body warm. She had been able to practice some of the enchantments that had seeped into her mind while she slept, but it was difficult to find time alone to practice, as she did not want Bekka to think of her as a witch, so she had only achieved partial success. As they travelled, the pale blanket surrounding the path enabled them to see contrasting dark objects against it, and now, not too far ahead they picked out many swiftly moving dark figures, raising clouds of snow in their wake.

  “Horses,” said Nemeila, pointing. “We will have to hide amongst the trees and hope they pass us by.”

  Tyler turned Sox from the path and attempted to climb a bank leading to higher ground, but Sox’s iron shod hooves could not get a grip through the thick ice and snow.

  Dismounting, he helped Nemeila and Bekka down and then urged Sox on again. “Come on boy,” he whispered, holding the reins and stroking a fed up looking horse, “I know you can do it.”

  ‘Maybe if I had wings, I could fly you up. But I have my doubts as to climbing,’ Grumbled Sox to himself.

  Nevertheless, he dug his hooves deep into the snow, struggling for purchase in the frozen soil beneath, and began the arduous climb. When they finally gained the summit, Tyler spotted the trail they had left behind them in the churned up snow. They all remounted. The snow on these upper reaches was deeper still, and his boots scuffed the surface as he pressed Sox forward. A sudden cry from behind alerted him to Aurek’s men who had burst out of the timberline in hot pursuit. Tyler kneed Sox onward but his head went down and he refused to budge. Tyler looked ahead and saw the reason why: they were at the edge of a cliff face. The dangerous ascent had been for nothing. They were ordered to dismount as Aurek’s men encircled them. “Drop the weapon, boy, or I will order my men to kill you,” the leader of the band said gruffly.