Call of the Wolf (The Kohrinju Tai Saga)

by Nelson, J P

  Whitney’s son, Nigel, and the other soldier, a seasoned veteran named Binch, stayed back with Trap to try to figure a way to cause the Phalquasites a problem.

  The town rose up quickly to arms under Whitney’s leadership, and waited quietly for the cult warriors to come within easy crossbow range. As the enemy horde prepared to enter the town, three mud-covered strangers suddenly ran though the nearly naked army throwing bee’s nests and maddened vipers in all directions. As if on cue, the three strangers dropped to the ground as Whitney opened fire and those left standing were slaughtered.

  Immediately after the crossbows ceased, the three jumped up and cut loose with swords and blades. Trap seemed to be having the time of his life as he spit tobacco juice from his mud covered lips into the eyes of the enemy, then whipping his steel from one yellow-back to another. Whitney led a group a militia into the fray and none were left of the offending horde.

  If not for Trap, Whitney, Nigel, Binch and Solly, Kynear would have been taken that night.

  If it isn’t enough to have religious groups rising up all over and becoming violent, the orgs had been banding together and forming a nation. Typically they live in tribal groups and don’t get along with outsiders. But in the last couple of years a half-breed, supposedly a cross between an org and captive human woman, had risen up and proclaimed himself to be a warrior-priest.

  They called him Marduk, but there is no surety that is, or ever was, his real name. And no one is sure where he actually came from. The hub-bub was that he had been involved with the mountain war against Gevard, going back to the battle of Fel’Caden Castle, but there was no proof of it. This much is certain, he had been gathering the orgs together into a unit, and seemed to be leading them efficiently.

  Their first strike was against the Southern Jutte settlement of Rooster in the Gustav Valley late last year. The battle was bloody and the orgs lost, but it cemented their acceptance for unification under Marduk. In the meantime, and amid the fighting, a young lady named Madigan gave birth to her first child on the floor of her father’s new store. René, who had led the counter attack from amid the brush, was now the proud daddy of a bouncing baby boy.

  As for me, however, my total focus was on performing well for Princess Tancine. Three weeks I practiced, night and day. And if I had any idea of keeping it to myself, it was foiled when I saw Ander and Merle the morning after I learned I was to play.

  Merle had a big, knowing smile on his face. Ander just looked at me and said, “Hey, Wolf, way to go!”

  “Huh?” I asked. It was Sabboday and we were supposed to have met for some casual sword practice. Ander had purchased that blade he fancied and wanted to swing it a bit, get a feel for the weapon and all in the training hall. Hoscoe preached intimate knowledge of your weapon, “It could mean the difference between life and death,” he insisted. And Ander was a very serious student.

  Meeting them after breakfast with my guitar slung on my back, I had been wondering whether I would say anything to them or not. Well, right away, in any case. I hadn’t gone to chow, having stayed up late the night before. I had eaten from fruit I kept in my quarters, so hadn’t seen anybody.

  Ander said, “You’re playing at the Ball. It was all over Baldwin’s last night. We kept hoping you would come down.”

  I unlocked the training hall door, being Hoscoe’s apprentice had its privileges, including having a key to the training hall.

  “How are you feeling, mate? You don’t look so good.”

  “Thanks,” I replied wryly.

  Truth to tell, I couldn’t go to sleep due to thinking of the Ball. I was nervous, but excited, and kept going through the songs I knew. It was close to twilight when I finally fell out the night before, but I didn’t sleep for long. My head was thrumming, and the Wihlabahk thing the day before wasn’t making it any better.

  Ander’s new sword was nice, and expensive. He had saved for over a year to get that thing. It was made of a special new kind of steel being produced at the Brosman Iron Mine in southwestern Keoghnariu. It had been hammered by a weapon smith out of Vedoa and was something of a prototype.

  Similar to Hoscoe’s blade, Ander’s sword had a hand-and-a-half grip with a full tang. The blade, however, was single edged, straight and had a chiseled point, instead of the standard leaf-point design. It hadn’t been received well because it was so different. Most blades were double edged, but there was just something about it Ander liked.

  This much for sure, it was beautifully balanced and quick on the slice. And his fast draw technique was like lightning. The edge remained razor sharp, even after destroying two practice sticks. As nice as it was, and as excited as he was, I couldn’t get my mind off the music.

  ‘Three weeks,’ I thought.

  After maybe an hour I finally blurted out, “Hey guys what do you think of this?” And I picked up my guitar and prepared to start in with a song. Hesitating for a moment, I watched Ander and Merle for their reaction. They looked at each other only a moment and chuckled. Ander grabbed a towel and wiped his face and said, “Yeah, Wolf. Let’s hear it.”

  ‘Three weeks.’

  Over and over I practiced, discarded, and practiced more songs. I even wrote one. It was amazing how easy it was for me to do, so I wrote a couple more.

  The encouragement I received was stunning. Never before had I heard so many comments of “You’re goin’ to do great,” “Hey, can’t wait,” and “We’re proud of you.” I wasn’t used to any of it, but that last one made me stop and take pause.

  The burly sergeant who first said it was known for his brusqueness. When I seemed stunned at his words, he just clapped me on the shoulder and added, “You’re one of us, boy.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, and then said in a concerned voice, “But what if I screw it up?”

  “So what if you do?” He answered with a humorous grunt. “Look, you do like you do in here,” he was referring to the pub, “and you’ll be fine. Be yourself, Wolf. They all have potbellies under their girdles, pick their noses and cut nasty farts like the rest of us. Me and my boys’ll be out on patrol that week, but we’ll be a’thinkin’ about you playing.”

  He waved his hand at the throng in the pub, “All of us will.”

  The sergeant started to walk away and I grabbed his arm, “Hey, I don’t even know you’re name.”

  Turning toward me slowly, I felt embarrassed. He tongued his jaw a moment, and then said with a touch of humor, “Yeah, but we all know you. Every man-jack in this army has heard about you.” He took a savoring sip of his ale, licked his lips, and then said with a sly grin, “I’m Cudty.” With that he turned and walked to the bar, and within moments he spoke to a couple of fellows and they all left.

  Sergeant Cudty, a name I had heard. He was one who would stand by you till the last, and took nothing off of nobody. He had turned down becoming an officer because he saw himself as just one of the boys.

  I was in the training hall with Izner and Dud, when Ize suddenly asked, “Can you dance?”

  “Dance?” I thought a moment, I knew my momma’s dances, but … “I know a few, why?”

  “Because, smart boy, you may have to dance. And it would be nice if you could move your feet like you move those strings.”

  Now that was something I hadn’t thought of. And he was right.

  Dud spoke up, “I’ll dance with ya.” Then he blew me a kiss. I veered back and balled up my fist in play as he laughed.

  “Seriously, can you dance?” Izner asked.

  Without going into details, we wound up barring the door from inside, and Izner talked me into letting him take me through some steps. I was astounded at his footwork. So, I prepared myself all the way around, or I hoped I had.

  It was the beginning of the third week when I finally decided on my set, and I practiced until I was afraid the others down the hall in our barracks were going to put me out. But when the time came, I breathed in deep and hoped I didn’t step over my feet and fall flat on my fac
e.

  The infant kingdom of Keoghnariu was currently sealed off from the rest of the world, but they had contrived to develop a grand hall with incredible acoustics. As small as the kingdom was, I somehow expected the great hall, which also served as the king’s throne room and public judgment center, to be much more conservative. But Chitivias had grand visions for his kingdom. Hoscoe had told me it was big, but I had not realized how much so.

  The center was two levels high. A row of columns on each side supported the rounded ceiling, and a balcony surrounded three sides of the hall. The balcony walk space wasn’t incredibly wide, and behind each were rows of secondary rooms. Down on the main level, under each balcony was a spacious area with walls lined with the mounted heads of various creatures, a few paintings, and at six points on each side wall there was an indention where stood a full suit of banded mail with sword, spear and shield. On either side of the main entrance, at the one end of the hall, was another guardian suit of mail, similarly armed.

  I learned there was a smaller courtroom where the king performed much of his business, but this main hall was beautiful. There were maybe twenty-two hundred people in the hall to celebrate Princess Tancine’s birthday, and I want you to know the place was decked out in style.

  Silver was everywhere; candelabras, chandeliers, platters, furniture trimmings, jewelry, everywhere you looked there was the sparkle of silver. Colored ribbons adorned the walls and beautifully blown glass sat upon pedestals and tables.

  The attire I saw this evening was beyond anything I had ever seen. I had been worried about my own clothing when an attendant from the court came to my quarters and measured me up for my own outfit.

  Hoscoe had not gone with me to the ball, which I wondered about at first. But Ander, Dudley and Merle walked with me to the Great Hall. It seemed that Izner was going to escort some fine lady. All the way I kept trying to tell myself I was going to be fine, but with every step I started becoming nervous.

  What if I botched a chord, or a string broke, or the worst thing possible – I forgot my lyrics. One of the songs I was performing I had written myself. I started fidgeting as we walked and Merle elbowed me and asked, “Would’ja want me to hit ya with a mud ball?”

  I guess you would have to be there to appreciate it, but something in the way he said it made me suddenly laugh. Then dependable Dudley chimed in, “Damn, Merle. I wanna see him shit his britches.”

  ‘No, Merle, I don’t want you to hit me with a mud ball.” Turning to Dud I remarked, “And I haven’t filled my britches in a couple of weeks now.”

  As we stepped through the entrance, I took it all in and was almost overwhelmed. It was the number of people all in one place, I had never seen anything like it.

  “Hey,” Ander said, “just be yourself. They all pick buggers, remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said.

  An attendant had been waiting for me and led me around toward the back, but not before I saw Hoscoe. Whoa! He was really snazzed up, and at his side was a beautiful lady of maybe forty or so.

  Me? Never had I been dressed as such. A dark green shirt fit nicely against my body, with a matching pair of breeches cuffed at the ankle. My boots were such a highly polished black you could actually see yourself in them.

  A sleeveless maroon tunic draped my shoulders and hung mid-thigh, with a black sash wrapped three times around my waist and tied, elvin-style, with the ends trailing off of my left side. My hair was long, past my shoulders, and it was brushed until it shown golden with a touch of red.

  My guitar I had polished until Hoscoe threatened I would rub through the wood.

  The Ball had been underway for maybe a half hour when Princess Tancine was formally introduced to the festivities, and when she walked into the room I believe every candle flickered. Her raven black hair hung in adornments well past her waist. Her gown was the color of snow highlighted with crystals, and her skin was of olives and cream. She was truly beautiful. My mouth became completely dry, and I was going to have to sing her, I mean, sing to her.

  My heart climbed up into my mouth until I was sure it was beating against my tongue, as I heard the band come to the close of its last piece before my own set was to begin.

  I had been confident, but now my stomach was rolling like thunder, when a well-dressed fellow stopped next to me and said, “Stage fright?”

  Looking him square in the eye I said, “Yes sir. I think I’m going to throw up.”

  He laughed, and for a second I thought he was laughing at me. Then he placed the back of his hand against my chest, looked away, then back at me and got real close and said, “I’ve played Malone, Charlamae, N’Ville, Montelbahn Castle and the Chessne Garden of Dahruban. It’s when I don’t have the quivers right before going out that I get concerned. It shows you give a damn.

  “Remember this, my boy, you’re playing to them, not at them. You’ve been doing it for months down at the pub. Just tell your story. But tonight, the only one what matters is the princess.”

  The old fellow stood there immaculate in front of me, and then he straightened my tunic a bit and brushed off a speck. “I’ve seen them come and go, and I’ve heard you play. You have a gift, pass it on. No matter how much you practice, the show is different every time, and sometimes the improvisations are the best.”

  He gave a sudden nod of his head, a quick wink, and then he slapped my chest with the back of his hand. “Jam, my brother. You’re on.”

  The coordinator looked right at me and nodded. I was on, he signaled. Walking to the pedestal and stepping up I trembled inside, every stride of the way. This was the most important night of my life. It was her birthday, yes. But I was stepping up center stage. This was my performance, me, and no one else. It wasn’t Baldwin’s where everything was casual and no one cared if you missed a chord or two.

  Just to the side was the old man who had just been talking to me. What was that he had said? Looking up, I saw Tancine gazing at me.

  Over to the other side stood Hoscoe and his lady friend, and then out in the middle was Izner beside a pretty girl. Over there was Ander, there was Commander Lahrcus, and there was … my gaze stopped … there was Aldivert. On his face was a scowl, just like the Abaishulek Elvin merchant that time. Micheullous, his name had been Micheullous. His name came to me that suddenly, after all these years

  It was then I realized this was my purpose in life, maybe not as a musician, but to be in front; for better or worse to be seen and heard, to make a difference, or at least attempt to do so.

  Closing my eyes, I gently waved my head to clear my thoughts and felt my hair flow from side to side around my shoulders. I opened myself to the warmth and felt it flow into my body. With my guitar in hand I softly opened my eyes with a subtle smile, and directing all of my attention to the waiting Princess, I said, “Happy Birthday, Your Highness …” and I began to play.

  Chapter 37

  ________________________

  WHEN I AWAKENED the next morning, I could still hear the music from Tancine’s Birthday Ball in the back of my mind. From my first song, and through the entire five song set, I kept her attention and maintained eye contact. Opening with the popular song, Blue Roses, I then led into an elvin selection. I sang a medley of youth oriented music in the local dialect, followed by an elvin instrumental.

  As I performed, it seemed to me we were the only ones in the whole place. Merle told me later it was like everyone was enthralled by my music. Absolutely nobody made a sound. Men and women were sliding their hands into each other’s, and some were swaying together as if in a subtle dance.

  Tancine’s chest rose and fell in rhythm of my music and her eyes seemed to sparkle. It felt as if she was directly in front of me, her face so close to mine. Our eyes firmly entranced, I sang and played my music. All through the hall radiated feelings of tranquility, and then I moved into the final song, the one which I had written. It told of a beautiful maiden dancing through the meadows. Her hair of raven black with eyes having capt
ured the essence of the heavens, the maiden’s smile could make the flowers bloom and storms temper into gentle rain.

  After the final moments of my song, quiet still permeated the air as the last notes lingered upon the mind. Her hand found its way into mine and the band began to play something soft and soothing. The old man who had talked with me was standing slightly off to the side with something called a saxophone. It wasn’t long until it became clear he was the star of the band.

  It was good that I let Izner coach me, because the dance was one of the four waltzes we had practiced. Tancine and I melded together in movement, stepping like unto a morning breeze billowing across a field covered with a spring bouquet.

  Everyone made way to give us room as we danced and we had the entire center hall for our private floor. Our steps were perfect in synchronization with each other and it seemed we had danced as a couple for years. Step-two-three, step-two-three, turn and then glide, turn and then glide, now this way then that, she spins and comes back … we floated all about the floor in the Tandlefrahn Waltz, considered one of the most beautiful of ballroom dances.

  I had never had a girl so close to me before, let alone hold one. I could feel her youth, her radiance, the blossoming of her womanhood as it quickened my pulse. Something inside me slowly came alive, something I had never felt before. Although not playing, I felt as if I was still radiating essence, and she was a captive to my touch, or more accurately my voice.

  Without realizing, I was gently humming to the rhythm of the band; feeling the notes and making them my own. Was that it, the secret of the Bard’s Magic? It made perfect sense. To harness musical sound, and to merge the inner strength with it, using the vibrations as a catalyst to convey emotion to those about oneself, the effects to reach as far as the hearing ear.

  Tancine responded to my lead and as I looked upon her, I felt that if I could carry her to the stars she would go where I would go. The expression upon her face was one lost in rapture, and as she turned her lovely eyes to gaze into mine and I saw explicate trust.