The Silver Crown

by William Bridges

  The Garou brought his blade up but wasn't fast enough to deal with the berserk Albrecht, who dug his claws into the Garou's head, raking furrows in his scalp. Albrecht's weight brought the Garou to the ground, and Albrecht immediately began savaging his captive with his rear claws, stomping the Garou's legs and raking away strips of flesh. The Garou screamed and hit Albrecht repeatedly with the klaive, all weak and ineffective blows with no leverage. In seconds, the Garou was dead.

  Albrecht, totally lost to anger, crawled forward on all fours, slapping through the mud, still partially blinded from the sand in his eyes, heading for the smell of the other enemy. But there was another smell there now. A familiar smell. Not threatening.

  "Albrecht! Calm down! It's over!" the source of the new scent yelled.

  Albrecht circled around defensively, sniffing all about him for foes. None. Only the familiar smell. The non-threatening smell. The smell of a packmate.

  Albrecht sat down and looked at Evan, who stood before the other Garou as if defending him from Albrecht. Evan looked like a fourteen-year-old boy, which he was. But he was also a Garou, and fourteen wasn't so young when you were one of Gaia's chosen. He was wiser than his years, thanks to spirits who favored him and taught him special powers. Evan was of the Wendigo tribe, even though he didn't look remotely Native American.

  Albrecht frowned. Then he shifted back to human form. Shit, he thought. Lost it. Damn. He looked around and saw the dead Garou behind him, now a human form bleeding across the wet grass. He looked back at Evan. "That was not fun."

  "Who are these guys?" Evan asked, leaning down and looking at the wounded one, still in Crinos form but moaning in half-consciousness, his severed leg lying a few feet away from his body.

  "Silver Fangs. Beyond that, I have no idea. Can you fix him up?"

  Evan looked over at the leg and then at the Garou's stump. "Yeah. Help me out here. I need you to hold the leg to the wound while I concentrate."

  Albrecht gripped the klaive still stuck in his thigh and wrenched it out. The pain was incredible, but Albrecht was used to this kind of hurt and forgot it quickly.

  He went and picked up the severed leg, then walked over to the wounded Garou. He dropped to his knees and held the leg up to the bleeding stump. Evan placed his hand over both and sat silent for a minute. Then the flesh around the stump and the severed leg began to grow, to reknit and pull itself back together. There would be a scar.

  When that was done, Albrecht stood up and looked around. He wondered what kind of toll this fight had taken on the local residents. For all he knew, a cop or two had come running only to see three wolfmen duking it out. Of course they wouldn't remember it that way. They'd rationalize it away as anything else. The Veil.

  As if to confirm his thoughts, Albrecht saw a police officer sitting on the grass near the edge of the sidewalk. He had his head buried in his hands and was muttering to himself.

  Not exactly standard behavior for the NYPD, thought Albrecht. He turned to Evan. "We gotta clean this up and move out before that pig wises up again."

  Evan looked over at the police officer. "I know. I saw him on my way in. I think he'll be okay." He looked at both the bodies. "Uh… you can carry this one, and I'll get the dead one." Evan began shifting into a larger form. His muscles grew wide and broad and his face took on a chunky, dumb-jock look — a sort of Mr. Hyde to his previous Dr. Jekyll. He walked over to the dead body.

  "What the hell is going on?" someone yelled.

  "You're late, Man," Albrecht said. "You missed the action."

  Mari walked around the bench, over to the scene of the battle. She was a wiry, muscled and intense-looking woman, a Hispanic-Italian from the Bronx. Her attitude alone could stop fights, but her physique and martial skill ensured that she could back it up with blows. Mari helped teach street-tough skills to battered women. It was a religious cause for her, and she never took kindly to Albrecht's mocking her "coddling of humans." But Albrecht knew that now was not the time to start sparring.

  "Two Garou," Mari said, surveying the scene. "One dead, the other half-dead. Who attacked whom?" she said, turning to look Albrecht in the eyes.

  "Don't start," Albrecht said, glaring back at her. "I didn't ask for this. These are Silver Fangs, damn it! I don't go carving up my tribe for the fun of it!"

  "Then why?" Mari said, stepping closer to him. "Why would they attack you? What have you done now?"

  "Me? This is my fault? These two just walk up and start slicing away, and you think I had something to do with it? Lady, get a clue: I am not out to make enemies."

  "Come on," Evan said, looking at both of them, with the dead Garou on his back. "We'd better enter the Umbra. No way we're going to get these two to Central Park without being noticed."

  Albrecht turned away from Mari and picked up the wounded Garou, who still moaned in pain and delirium. "Well, who's leading the way?"

  "All right," Mari said. She walked over and picked up Albrecht's Grand Klaive. Holding it up over the street and positioning it to catch the reflection of the rainwater, she concentrated, staring into the depths of the mirror world. Evan and Albrecht moved up next to her and touched her shoulders. Then the world changed around them as Mari reached into the spirit world and pulled them into it, warping the Gauntlet around them.

  The streetlights fell away and the rain stopped. They still stood in the park, but it was now five blocks long, and the buildings surrounding it were older than in the real world. The streets were empty of pedestrians, although occasional spider webs could be seen, almost hidden in the alleys.

  Evan began walking in the direction of Central Park; Albrecht followed him. Mari looked around, double-checking to make sure they weren't followed by anything, then fell in behind them.

  "The wounded one will surely tell us what this is about," Mari said.

  "He better," Albrecht said.

  Chapter Two

  Fengy wandered through the park on his daily rounds. He stopped diligently at each and every trash can, gathering up whatever leftover food he found there, regardless of its condition. A day-old candy bar or a week-old hot dog — it didn't matter to him. It was food.

  He was digging into the can by the small pond where the turtles lived when he heard voices from behind the bushes. He looked carefully into the brush. He hadn't heard anyone a second ago, so he wondered where the voices were coming from.

  Albrecht walked out onto the sidewalk, still carrying the wounded Silver Fang. Fengy jumped back in surprise, shocked by the sudden appearance of the Silver Fang lord. Albrecht was followed by Evan Heals-The-Past and Mari Cabrah, his packmates.

  "That ain't right, ya know," Fengy said, startling Albrecht now. "Steppin' out in front of a fellow with no warning. Yer from the Umbra, right? That must be it, cause Fengy didn't hear ya before."

  Albrecht looked annoyed. He had never liked Fengy. The rat was always hanging around, trying to get information or a free meal. The Bone Gnawers had no shame, and Fengy epitomized the worst qualities of his tribe.

  Albrecht knew it was uncharitable of him to think that way. The Bone Gnawers of Central Park had welcomed him when he had had no home, and allowed him into their moot rites. But still, he couldn't get over their apparent lack of self-esteem. He knew the pot was calling the kettle black, but he couldn't help himself.

  "Yeah, Fengy," Albrecht said. "We just had a jaunt through Umbral Manhattan. You should check it out sometime. Give you a sense of history. Where's Larissa?"

  "Mother is on her errands, like any good Gnawer," Fengy said, knowing when he was being condescended to. "She's got mouths to feed, ya know. Some of us work for a living."

  "Yeah, yeah. Look, we're heading over to the caern center. Let her know I'd like her help when you see her."

  "Sure. I'll do it. Them some wounded friends ya got there?"

  Albrecht ignored him and walked down the path. Evan and Mari followed. Mari turned to call back to Fengy as she walked off: "Enemies, Fengy. Enemies. Silver Fangs."


  Fengy furrowed his brow in confusion. If they were Silver Fangs, and Albrecht was a Silver Fang, how come they were enemies? He scratched his head and then continued his duties, reaching deep into the trash can for the fast-food burger wrapper he had spotted at the bottom.

  * * * *

  The pack arrived at the caern center, a small grove in the middle of the park, hidden from the eyes of any passersby on the paths that surrounded it. The trees grew in such a way as to provide good sound-proofing, so most conversations couldn't be heard by anyone outside.

  Albrecht laid the wounded Fang on the ground. Evan placed the dead one nearby and put his jacket over the Garou's face.

  "Well, Albrecht," Mari said. "What now?"

  "I want Larissa to look at this one," Albrecht said, pointing at the wounded Garou. "If she can revive him, I'm going to find out what the hell he thought he was doing."

  "If I can revive him?" an old, gravelly voice said, coming through the trees, followed seconds later by an old hag of a woman, dressed in thrift-store chic and smelling like she'd been bathing in dumpsters. "Course I can revive him, if he's not dead. Now, what's this all about?"

  "Mother Larissa," Evan said, smiling at the old lady. "It's good to see you."

  "And you, Evan," Larissa replied, smiling back at him; then she looked at Albrecht and grimaced. "But I knew there'd be trouble as soon as I heard the high-and-mighty lord here. Trouble follows him like white on rice."

  "Good morning to you, Mother," Albrecht said with obvious sarcasm. "I would appreciate it if you could wake this guy up so I can beat the crap out of him again."

  Larissa waddled over to the Garou and bent down, examining his wounds. "What's he done to you? He looks like a Silver Fang. This some sort of family quarrel? 'Cause I don't want no part of it!"

  "I don't know what this is about. That's why I need him awake."

  Larissa sighed and put her hands on the Garou's chest. She concentrated, singing an old song to herself, low enough that the others couldn't make out the words. Then she pulled her hands back and stared sadly at the Garou, shaking her head. She pulled her dirty shawl from around her shoulders and placed it on his face.

  "Didn't want to live," she said. "He didn't have the strength to go on. Whoever he was, he was hurting bad before you tore into him. Not from any wound, but from inside."

  "What do you mean?" Albrecht said. "What are you talking about?"

  "She means Harano, Albrecht," Mari said, staring at the dead body. "'A weeping from within, crying for that which is not yet lost.' It seems to hit your tribe a lot these days, although they always want to deny it exists."

  Albrecht looked down at the two dead Fangs. The enormity of it all finally hit him. He had killed two of his own tribemates. It had been self-defense, but nonetheless, two Silver Fangs lay dead. He let out a deep sigh and sat down, staring at the grass beneath him. The ground was still damp from the earlier rains, but Albrecht didn't care. Tears again, he thought. The world is still crying, but now I'm crying with it.

  "Hey, Mother!" Fengy suddenly poked his head around a tree. "There's a Silver Fang out here to see you, real regal like! Something's up!"

  Larissa looked at Albrecht with narrowed eyes. "I'll be right there to see him," she answered Fengy, and then pointed a bony finger at Albrecht. "You stay here until I see what this is about."

  "What if this one wants to kill me, too?" Albrecht said.

  "Not in my caern, he won't!" she said and pulled herself up. She hobbled over the way she had come and then squeezed her way out between the trees.

  "Whatever this is, Albrecht," Evan said, coming over and sitting down next to him, "we're with you."

  Albrecht looked at Mari, who looked back at him. "Both of us," she said.

  "Thanks," Albrecht said and leaned back. He tried to listen to what was going on outside the grove. He couldn't hear anything but the general background rumble of the city. Another Silver Fang, he thought. Is this one here to finish the job these two started, or is he here to warn me about these two?

  The answer came soon enough when Larissa pushed her way back in between the thick bushes, followed by the visitor.

  The man was of medium height, but his posture and the way he looked at everyone told of someone used to getting his way with other people. He was young, though; perhaps no more than eighteen. He wore an expensive trench coat and leather riding boots, as if he'd just come from a horse show, and his hands were snugly fitted with leather driving gloves. He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing bright blue eyes. He looked straight at Albrecht.

  "Lord Albrecht?" he asked.

  Albrecht stood up and met the other's gaze. "Yeah, that's me. And who are you?"

  "I am Eliphas Standish, soon to be Squire of the Lodge of the Moon and Gatekeeper for the North Country Protectorate and the Court of… of..." He seemed confused at this last statement, as if he had forgotten the name of the court.

  "Morningkill. You're from Morningkill's court. You can say it here. It's not a dirty word, no matter what passed between me and my grandfather."

  Eliphas' eyes widened as he looked past Albrecht at the two dead Garou. The newcomer walked past Albrecht and pulled the shawl and jacket off their faces. He looked down at them with his head bowed and then replaced the coverings. He turned back to Albrecht.

  "I… I don't understand why they attacked you. Larissa told me what she knew."

  Albrecht stepped up to Eliphas and stared him in the face. "Do you know who they were?"

  Eliphas looked straight back, used to being treated in such a manner at court. "Yes. One was Alphonse Grayling and the other was Justin Beauchamp. Both were exiled two months ago from Morningkill's court."

  Albrecht's eyes widened and he stepped back. "Exiles? Like me? Then why did they attack me?"

  "I'm not sure. It may have something to do with succession rights..." He looked down at the bodies. "But how could they have known so soon?"

  "Known what? Succession rights? What are you talking about?"

  Eliphas looked up again and straightened his posture, his bearing becoming rather ritualistic in the process, as if he were performing a sacred duty. "I am here to bring you back to court."

  "At whose order?" Albrecht said, somewhat incredulously.

  "King Morningkill's. The late King Momingkill. Jacob Morningkill is dead."

  Chapter Three

  Albrecht stared out the window at the passing landscape. The sun had broken through the clouds and bathed the trees in a golden glow. The still-damp leaves reflected the light back in intense, rich greens, oranges and reds. Autumnal Vermont was beautiful. Albrecht hadn't seen his home country in nearly three years. He realized, watching from the speeding car, that he missed it greatly. More than he had allowed himself to recognize. These colors were his colors, burned into his soul from early childhood. Gaia was everywhere, the Garou said, but Albrecht believed that she loved this land more than any other.

  Albrecht turned and looked at Eliphas, who stared ahead down the road as he drove. This kid was pretty cocksure, Albrecht thought. It was obvious that he'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, as the humans would say. He was so privileged, he had no clue about just how well-off he was. Albrecht shook his head. This was exactly what pissed him off so much about the Fangs. They were all born to privilege, but had no humility about it.

  Albrecht looked back out the window. Of course, I used to be just like that, he thought. That's why I hate it so much. It reminds me of what I used to be. A vain, regal ass.

  He had noticed the way Eliphas kept staring at him when he thought Albrecht wasn't looking. The expression on his face betrayed what he was thinking: He was utterly confused about the Garou lord who sat in the car with him. A street-tough, uncouth Fang. Oh, Albrecht had the features of the Fang ideal, all right: well-chiseled face, fine blond hair. But it went down from there. Five-o'clock shadow, a near-perpetual frown, a torn and filthy trenchcoat, ripped jeans, etc., etc. What in the world had create
d such a creature as this? Eliphas was surely thinking. What could have brought him so low?

  Albrecht sighed. He knew the routine. He'd thought those same thoughts once, whenever he'd met members of the other tribes. So wrapped up in his own glory, he couldn't understand how they could lead their lives dwelling among the scum of humanity. He knew differently now. He'd lived among the scum for some time, and had discovered that most of them were far nobler than the so-called heroes of his tribe. He'd quickly learned that appearance and economic status were the least hallmarks of character. The low-born, as his tribe called anyone of lesser status than they, had perhaps more virtues than a whole sept of high-and-mighty Silver Fangs.

  Take his pack, for instance. He'd stand by them no matter the odds well before he would defend the honor of his tribe. Evan was a good kid, a better person than Albrecht was, that was for sure. He was decent, and always thought of others before himself. But the Fangs would consider the young Wendigo a half-breed and always look down their snouts at him, no matter what deeds he accomplished. And Mari. Boy, they would not take to her at all. She was too feisty, too ready to pick a fight with anyone, regardless of their station. No, the Fangs would not approve of Albrecht's new pack.

  Well, screw them. His pack had proven many times how, no matter what feud was going on amongst themselves, they'd stand behind Albrecht. When he'd told them they had to stay behind in New York, that he had to go alone to the court, they'd pitched a fit. Mari had torn into him about Silver Fang assassins, and how Eliphas could be fooling them all and really have been sent to lure Albrecht off to kill him. Evan had downplayed the paranoia factor, but still mentioned that the court might not have Albrecht's best interests in mind when summoning him. What if they were trying to accuse him of a crime? On their home turf, he wouldn't stand a chance of justice.

  Albrecht had thanked them for their concern, but made it clear that this was something he had to do alone. In a time like this, so soon after caern security had been breached, the Fangs would not allow any non-tribe members near the bawn, let alone the caern proper. As he got into Eliphas' Lexus, Mari had told him that, if they hadn't heard from him in two days, they were coming to get him, and just let any Silver Fang try to stop her. He'd smiled at this but hadn't said anything.