Claw and Crown Bundle

by Richard Lunch

  It mattered not if it made every hair on my body stand up in fear. Draugr was gone, and I owed it to him to kill Yor, or perish in the effort. For a moment, I tried to figure out why he sacrificed himself for the kingdom, but then I realized that was not the truth. Whatever the kingdom meant to him, he has sacrificed himself for me.

  “Why could you not just tell me you loved me,” I cupped my face in my hands.

  I allowed myself a few moments there to mourn, before I adjusted my armor and my sword. My fathers, my sisters, were behind me, defending our home from the armies that threatened to destroy it all. I knew my grandfather was a human, that my own father was raised among them. I knew that in their hearts, humans were little different from wolves. They loved and raged all the same. They turned words into song far better than most wolves and were inventive beyond what their short lives should allow. This Yor thought their lives mattered nought, that he had seen Draugr killed, that he would have my fathers and sisters murdered. Yor’s time was at an end.

  I uncovered my face and strode toward the citadel.

  The tears dried. My sword gleamed in the moonlight. Over the top of the rampart, the helmets of guards shone. I went to the gate. Three archers leveled their bows at me.

  “I will face no one but Yor,” I called.

  The archers did not desist. One drew his bowstring back and fixed it on my throat. He was so close I could feel the shudder in the string. For minutes, the only sound was the creak of armor and my breathing.

  “He shall face Yor.”

  I heard the clop of hooves on earth. The gates swung open with a rusted shriek. Before me, sat a man on a horse. The horse, too, had the sign of Yor branded on its flank. Its eyes were milky and dead. I nodded to him.

  “I am to face Yor.”

  “Indeed.”

  I followed him down a path lined with dead flowers. On occasion, we passed the skeleton of a human that had been left to rot. Away from the path, there was a hum of activity. Blacksmithies smoked and clanged with the rapid manufacture of weapons. Armies drilled in the yards. A troop of wolves ran past. They stared at me with murderous eyes. At last, we came to the doors of the citadel.

  “When you enter, you are to kneel before Yor.”

  I shook my head, “I will not.”

  “Suit yourself. All kneel in time.” He snapped the reigns of his horse and left.

  I pushed open the door and was greeted by the odors of death, and of sex. My eyes widened in shock.

  Upon a throne, sat a man, no, he had to be a wolf, with one eye the color of yellow gold and the other completely black. He stood easily eight and a half heads tall and was muscled from to toe. His head was shaved save for a line of bristling black hair down the center of his head. He wore a spiked circlet and his black beard fell onto a a bare chest. His nipples were pierced with iron rods and he wore leather pants that did little to hide the fact that he was fully erect. I did not mean to, but I must have cowed. Below him knelt an array of naked human men, all of them wore collars like beasts and crawled around on all fours. Some held wine out to the wolf man, while others simply stared up in adoration. All had the brand of Yor.

  “It is good to be a god,” he waved at a young flaxen haired human who then went to kneel beside by his knees, “What is my name?” He asked the man.

  “Yor, your excellence, God of Wolves, Emperor of the World.”

  “Good, now say it with your mouth full.”

  He gestured at his groin. The human obliged, unlacing him to reveal of a thick, hairy, veiny cock, which he gulped down his throat. Yor seemed to take little notice in me. His eyes rolled back in his head as the man took his cock and sucked.

  “I suppose you will be wanting something.”

  He looked at me from underneath half-closed lids.

  “I am here to kill you and end this war.”

  He raised his hands in the air and laughed. It echoed off the black stone walls along with the slurps of the human sucking him.

  “I let you into my throne room and I have my cock out. You are no threat. The only reason you have lived so far since entering my domain is that I think you will make a good pet,” he pulled the human off his cock by his hair. A line of spittle ran from the human’s chin to Yor’s testicles, “Shall I show you how I will use you? Ride me,” he commanded. The human turned to face me and straddled Yor. He lowered his hole onto Yor’s cock. Yor grabbed his hips and shoved him down and began to ram his cock uowards into him. The human yelped in pain but with each thrust, he looked at Yor with utter adoration.

  “He loves it, to be fucked by a god is a gift. Dry or not, he and all these other humans, take me in them. You may not enjoy it, but this,” he wrapped his hand around the man’s throat and used it to choke him and force him to bounce up and down on his penis, “is how I will take you, like a toy, like a slave. Ugh!” He grunted and finished into the man and tossed him by the neck, with the human’s penis hard and unattended to, down to the feet of the throne. Yor relaced his pants and stood.

  “Now, let us get you into chains. When I take the throne from your fathers, I want them to see me fuck you on it before I kill them.”

  The words shook me to my core. The callous way Yor took his lovers was so unlike the way that Druagr and I had made love, and now, to see Yor lay claim to such a life-giving act here, among all this death and destruction, my blood boiled. I drew my sword, Wolfsholm, and could have sworn I heard it sing.

  “You are no god, nor emperor, and you will not live to see my father’s throne.”

  “We will see,” he unsheathed a sword that lay at the side of his throne.

  Wolfsholm began to glow, and before I knew it, I was swinging in a sideways arc toward Yor. He leapt out of the way, but almost did not make it.

  “You are no god!” I shouted.

  Blood, hot and wet and sticky as any wolf’s, leaked from the cut. He growled.

  “I am a god. I am Yor, the wolf god’s incarnation on this earth. As such, I am king of ALL WOLVES, including you, my prince.”

  He leapt at me. Steel met steel. I parried and dodged and came away with just a nick in my leather armor. He bared his teeth at me. There was power here. I felt it coming off him before I could see it, and then it was there. The room grew cold and the ground grew slick with ice. I slammed Wolfsholm into the ground before me. It stopped the sorcerous ice before it could make its way to me.

  “What is that?” He gritted his teeth.

  “My ancestral sword, Wolfsholm.”

  He faltered at the words, “It isn’t so.”

  His faltering lasted only a minute and then he was upon me, swinging and hacking with his sword. I met each swing with one of my own but he was so fast. My muscles screamed. I grew tired. Slowly, slowly he was wearing me down. He swung with sword in his right hand. I blocked, but he hit me in the cheek with a vicious backhand. It dashed me upon the stone floor. I clung to my sword, but then he was had his pressed to my chest, the point poised just above my heart.

  “Have you had enough of struggling?”

  His words would have seemed strong, but they betrayed a raggedness, that I had made him fight for it. I only shook my head and let myself fade into time, into that other place I swore I would never venture again. This time, I knew, there was no Draugr to save me. The citadel gave way to snow, and I was again in the land of the ancient wolf god. I did not have to go far to reach him. The great wolf lay watching me with its eyes, one like the dark endless night and one like the sun, his fur as white as the snow that fell with neither cold nor warmth. I reached him and bowed.

  “I apologize for my rudeness.”

  “You are about to die. It is good to apologize, but you could have waited until my emissary was finished with you to see me and say so.”

  “He would have kept me alive for some time.”

  The wolf god waved a paw, “It matters little to me, the length of your mortal lives. Tell me, though, how is it you have come to see me twice and I have never bro
ught you.”

  “Is it so unusual?”

  “To be able to travel in the realm of the wolf god? Yes,” he leveled me with a stare that was at least one of interest.

  “You chose the wrong emissary.”

  I let the words hang in the air. The wolf god’s expression changed to amusement and then outright laughter.

  “Yor never speaks to me so.”

  “Yor is more pig than wolf.”

  “And you,” he sighed, “I feel the disappointment of a parent who sees the well-behaved child of another, whilst my own runs amok. He is ruining the world, is he not?”

  “He is.”

  The Wolf God nodded, “You are more wolf than Yor. You have made it this far, and near bested him. Perhaps it is not always the best swordsman who should be king.”

  “I think that is why kings have warriors who serve them.”

  “And sorcerers.”

  At that word my heart stung.

  “Very well. Best Yor and you shall have my blessing as king of all wolves. In exchange for your devotion, what can I offer?”

  “You know what I want. I want Draugr’s life.”

  The words hung in the air.

  “That is something I cannot give,” he sighed, “But you shall have your crown, and your claw, and your people safe and wealth for centuries to come, and in return, you will have your people revere me. Now go, kill Yor, I grow tired of watching him.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but then I was back in the room, and I was behind Yor.

  He turned, mouth agape, and with Wolfsholm, I ran him through. The sword glowed and he gasped. No words came from that vile throat, only a gurgle. He collapsed to his knees and the ice melted, his blood flowed, and I heard a great crack. The humans rotted and turned to dust. The crack was their skulls as they broke on the stone. In moments, there was nothing in the room but the thrones and Yor’s body and gray ashy dust. I withdrew my sword and wiped it on Yor’s pants before resheathing that.

  “Thank you Wolf God,” I said, “it is done.”

  The victory felt hollow, won by fate and magic, not skill. Without Draugr to share it...I bit my lip. Without his instruction, I would be dead, we all would be. Without his valor, the kingdom would be lost. I knelt and said a prayer for him, wherever he was, and left the citadel.

  All the humans had been dead, and their dust had joined that of the plains. Sensing danger, I saw the wolves fleeing the citadel in packs, running toward more fertile land. They did not bother with me. There would be time yet for bringing them back into the fold. I made my way to the wall. At least, I could collect Draugr’s body, and if Verlock was there, I would end him.

  I made my out of the gate and began to run for the wall. I would take him by surprise. It was the only way to win. When I saw a cloaked figure approaching over the great expanse, I hardened my heart. This would be no surprise. He could see me coming.

  And then I heard it. It was a gasp and a laugh. The cloak was gone, cast aside. Tattoos shone in the first rays of the dawn. It was Draugr. He clutched a wound in his middle. I could not run fast enough. He was alive!

  We met, lips first, and then hands and bodies pressed together. I held him to me and he stiffened and pulled away with a hiss.

  “Careful!”

  He was still bleeding.

  “I thought you were dead,” I began to weep and tear the cloak into bandage strips at the same time. I wound them around his abdomen,

  “How?”

  “The student has surpassed the master on two counts today. I bested Verlock, and you were far more than I could ever hope to be. You killed a god.”

  I shook my head, “Twas an unfair fight,” he looked at me with puzzlement but let me continue, “The Wolf God helped me win.”

  Draugr laughed, “Then you truly bested Yor, and with his own tactics. Gods are seldom patient with those who move from honoring them to impersonating them.”

  I nodded, “You know so much.”

  “Come, Hafporir, we have a long journey home.”

  Chapter 21

  Varghoss

  “What do you mean we have no more arrows?”

  Singr, lead archer stood before me with hands outstretched, “We have no more fletching, no flint ready. We were not prepared for a prolonged siege, your majesty.”

  I rubbed my temples, “How are your men with slings?”

  His eyes lit up, “An excellent shot, my king.”

  “And we have stone that can be broken. Get to it! I do not want them to breach the outer wall.”

  He ran and leapt down the ladder. He barked orders left and right. Within moments, men and wolves had their slings, with infantrymen piling stones at their feet. The stones flew over the wall and did their work.

  “It’s not enough.”

  Ulfvaldr was beside me. I took his hand for just a moment, and he gave it a tender squeeze.

  “How long do we have?” I turned to look into his golden eyes, “Has our son failed?”

  He looked at me and laughed, “And I thought I was the harsher of his parents. No, he is either still on his way to slaying our foe, or else, he is in Valhalla waiting for us.”

  “Move!” A pair of sharp-clawed female hands grabbed me to the ground. I saw from the blur of long braids and armor that my other daughter had tackled Ulfvaldr.

  A ball of fire flew over us and crashed into the center of our north tower. The wall began to sway and give way. Below, men and wolves shouted and ran to get out of the way. The top of the tower snapped off like the head of a dandelion and crumbled to the inner grounds of the castle. There were shouts but no screams. No one had been in the tower.

  “Grenda!”

  Her differently colored eyes flashed, “Father, I am glad you are safe.”

  “Not for long…” Gilda whipped her hair out of her face. She had tackled Ulfvaldr out of the way just in time as well.

  “They’ve breached the northeast corner!” a human warrior ran toward us to deliver the news when his face contorted in pain. He fell face forward with an arrow sticking out of his back. An archer with the mark of Yor stood on the parapet and took aim.

  Like lightning, Grenda dashed forward and pulled the arrow from the warrior’s back. She notched it to her bow and took Yor’s archer down with a well-aimed shot to the throat. She wiped the blood on her hand onto the front of her armor where it joined similar bloody smears. My heart swelled with pride for all my children as she offered me a hand.

  “It looks, my dear, like we shall see each other in Valhalla soon.”

  “Not while we stand in their way, fathers,” Gilda faced the incoming invaders with sword drawn. Grenda drew her own sword and a second knife to accompany it.

  “You two go and route the forces on the southern wall. Retreat to the inner keep. Hold it for as long as you can. We will hold the wall.”

  “No-” Gilda ran to Ulfvaldr and shook him, “You cannot. Come with us.”

  “Daughters, you are regents in our stead until Hafporir returns. Protect your wolves and your humans.”

  “Come, sister. We must obey our fathers,” Grenda said even as she wrapped her arms around my neck. She left me with a kiss on the cheek, a tender gesture from the blood-covered creature, and gave the same to Ulfvaldr. Gilda shed a tear onto my cheek as she kissed it. I wiped away the tears below her blue and brown eyes.

  “My daughter, you will be so brave, and you will be a brilliant ruler.”

  She sniffled, and then looked up to me, “Show them what it means to have claws, father.”

  That made me smile, and Ulfvaldr as well.

  “Get going, you disobedient things,” he barked at them. They ran off laughing and crying until their laughter turned into howls.

  They called out and rallied warriors to their side. I looked over the edge of the inner wall as the retreat into the keep began. It would hold for just as long, if not longer as this wall had. It would give them time. All of the old and weak, the children and cubs and livestock
were in that keep. They had come from all the surrounding villages in order to find safety here, and that was what we would offer them for as long as we could. If Hafporir were to succeed before the keep was breached, then our future was secured. At the end of the day, at the end of his life, that was what a king was for, he was a tool of his people, a guide that saw them into the next age. A king could die knowing that he had done this much.

  “Are you ready, my love?” Ulfvaldr took my hand.

  “Not yet,” I said, and grabbed him into a kiss. It was as deep and as passionate as any we had shared in our youth, before all this came to pass.

  When we pulled apart, we were surrounded by our men and wolves who were stationed at the northern and western walls. Some fought off Yor’s intruders at the edges, but more and more made it over the wall, climbing on hook and rope or wooden ladder.

  “Thank you,” I cleared my throat. After all these years, Ulfvaldr still preferred that I make the speeches. Would it be so in Valhalla? “You give your lives today to protect those who matter to us all. My daughters and half our force holds the keep, and it is our duty to help them hold it as long as they can. You do not know it, but Hafporir has gone to slay Yor, the one who sends this army to attack us!”

  This was greeted with “Here, here!” And “Huzzah!” And not a few howls. I smiled.

  “And he may yet succeed. And until the end, whatever the gods will for us, we will hold this wall!”

  Ulfvaldr raised his sword and gave a wordless roar.

  “Inglor, take two score and meet them at the breach. The rest of you, with me. We have oil to boil.”

  We stoked fires along the wall, burning any wood we could find, even furniture broken up in the castle yard. The oil bubbled in cauldrons. At my command, my men tossed it over the wall onto the soldiers below. They screamed as flesh parted from bone. Yet still, more kept coming.

  I sensed it before I heard it. My ears pricked to the sound. Ulfvaldr and I looked up at once to see a massive boulder careening overhead. It crashed into a section of the wall above the gate. Stone flew and cracks spread.