Howler King

by J. Lloyd Morgan

  “Yes. There are packs of Howlers still out there, running free without a master. It’s the main reason I put up the wards. We’ve been fortunate and not seen any around here. They are drawn to strong active magic—not the passive magic I used to create the wards.”

  “What kind of magic did Eladrel use?” Zyrr asked.

  Once again, trouble lined Pendr’s face. “It was active magic, though it was powerful, he didn’t use it for very long. But enough of that. Let me show you how to make some nails.”

  For the next few hours, Zyrr and Pendr worked. Zyrr found the process fascinating, while at the same time, he couldn’t imagine doing this day in and day out. He was a farmer and needed to be outdoors.

  Pendr held up a newly finished nail. “As you can see, after it has cooled—” The large man stopped speaking and turned quickly to the west. He stood motionless for a moment, and then Zyrr thought he saw the man flinch. The blacksmith dropped the nail and all but ripped off his apron. “Come with me,” he said firmly.

  Zyrr followed as Pendr raced toward his house. The blacksmith ran remarkably fast for someone of his size. They entered through the back door.

  “Vimea! Eladrel! Crysta!” Pendr called.

  The three of them came to him, appearing frightened from Pendr’s tone. “What is it, dear?” Vimea asked.

  Pendr started walking toward a room they used for storage. “All of you need to go to the front sitting room. Do not leave for any reason. Am I clear?”

  “But, what is going on?” Vimea asked.

  Pender ignored his wife’s question. Grabbing Zyrr by the arm and pushing him toward the rest of the family, he said, “Zyrr, take them to there and don’t let anyone leave. No matter what happens. Do not argue with me.” He spoke in a commanding tone. Zyrr hadn’t seen this side of Pendr—it made the large man even more imposing.

  Pendr took a step into the storage room, then stopped and spun west again. “Too fast, too soon,” he said.

  Zyrr herded everyone back into the sitting room. It was large enough to seat ten people, with several couches and a wide, glass window that faced the street. He could hear Pendr banging around in the other room, and it sounded like he was ripping up floor-boards.

  The two women and Eladrel looked frightened. Zyrr guessed Vimea had never seen her husband like this. The noises from the storeroom stopped. For a moment, all was quiet until a scream from outside drew their attention.

  A man dressed in merchant clothes was running down the street as if death itself were chasing him. Zyrr looked and saw that, in fact, a form of death was after the man.

  A wolf, nearly as large as a horse, bounded toward the man, with what could only be described as a grin on its face. The merchant looked back at the wolf, but in doing so, tripped and fell to the ground. The wolf was on him within three heartbeats, and Zyrr found himself covering Eladrel’s eyes as the wolf started to tear the man to pieces. Two more wolves, both coming from the west, joined the first one to feast on their prey.

  Zyrr sat terrified and felt very helpless watching the horror through the large window. These were not wolves.

  These were Howlers.

  Where was Pendr? What was he doing?

  One of the Howlers stepped away from the carcass. With blood and gore dripping from its jowls, it turned its head and stared directly into the window at Zyrr and the family members with him. There was an unmistakable look of intelligence in its eyes. Zyrr heard Crysta and Vimea give out a cry of fear, while Eladrel kept quiet—his eyes still covered by Zyrr’s hands.

  The Howler growled something the other two animals seemed to understand. It then planted its feet solidly and looked at them once again through the window. Quicker than Zyrr thought was possible, the Howler launched itself toward them.

  Zyrr braced himself to be covered in glass, but instead hearing the window shattering, there was an almost angelic resonance. The Howler appeared to bounce right off the window and back into the street. It looked dazed, and the other two Howlers stopped tearing apart the merchant and turned toward the window.

  Clanking metal coming from his right got Zyrr’s attention. A brief vision of something large and gold passed by them in the hallway. Zyrr heard the front door open and then quickly close.

  Emerging from the house and walking into the street was a huge figure dressed in golden plate armor. He held a shield that seemed to shimmer with a crackling blue aura. In his right hand, he wielded a broadsword, but like none Zyrr had ever seen before. Large runes were engraved in the blade, and seemed to emanate the same blue light.

  “Pendr!” Vimea cried out.

  One of the Howlers barked to the others while Pendr walked toward the center of the street. Two of the animals moved together toward a flanking position, while the one that gave the orders stood and faced Pendr.

  For a moment, there was no movement in the street as the enemies sized each other up. Then slowly, Pendr raised his right hand, still holding the large sword. Zyrr felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle, just as when Eladrel had shown them his magic trick. The Howler in front of Pendr flew backwards and landed hard against the side of one of the houses. It hit with such force that the side of the house caved in. Pendr then turned and went to one knee. The other two Howlers had charged. Pendr batted one away with his shield while he pointed his sword straight out and impaled the other oncoming beast through the chest.

  Zyrr spared a quick glance at the Howler that had been thrown against the house. It looked as if its back was broken and it remained motionless on the ground.

  The Howler that Pendr had batted away got to its feet, appearing somewhat dazed. Pendr pulled his sword out from his recent kill and faced the last animal. The creature paced from side to side for a moment, as if strategizing a plan. The armored man crouched slightly and kept the Howler in front of him.

  They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Then the Howler raised its head and let out a loud cry—a sound like a wolf would make, but much louder. It was so loud, in fact, that Vimea, Crysta, and Eladrel all covered their ears. Zyrr would have done the same, but was intent on keeping his nephew’s eyes covered.

  The beast fell silent, then took one step and leapt at Pendr. At the same moment, Pendr dropped his shield and then gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands. The runes on the sword glowed brighter. The powerful man timed his swing perfectly, and like a warm knife going through soft butter, he split the Howler neatly in two.

  * * *

  Pendr was behind the house, cleaning blood off his sword and armor. Zyrr stood in the doorway of the back entrance and watched, unsure what to say to the man.

  “You can come out here and talk,” Pendr said, still focused on his task and not looking toward Zyrr. His voice sounded tired, but not the type of weariness that comes from fatigue.

  “Are you all right?” Zyrr asked, though it was clear that Pendr wasn’t injured.

  Wiping the last of the blood off his sword, Pendr said, “I’m fine. How are the women and Eladrel?”

  “They are shaken up, to be sure.” Zyrr took a few more steps toward the man.

  “I was hoping never to have to use these again,” Pendr said, sounding disheartened.

  Zyrr was close enough to pat the man’s back in comfort. “Maybe you won’t have to. Maybe that was the last of them.”

  “They weren’t the last,” Pendr said. “Did you hear the one howl?”

  “It was hard to miss.”

  “That’s the sound they make when they are calling for help. More will be coming. I wish I could keep them out altogether—like with my home—but I’m not that powerful. The ones I killed, I didn’t sense them until they entered Knichka and by then it was too late.”

  “I knew you were a soldier during the war,” Zyrr said. “I didn’t realize you had that type of power, or these types of armor and weapons. Did all the soldiers get them?”

  A mirthless chuckle came from the large man. “No, only a few of us. Rheq, Nestov, Eladre
l…”

  “Eladrel? The hero from whom you got your son’s name?”

  “Aye, the same.”

  Zyrr felt his eyes grow wide and heart quicken. “That means that you are one of the—”

  “Stop!” Pendr said abruptly. “Please, stop. I don’t want people to know. All I want is a simple life. I hear the bards sing tales of the heroes. I see children pretending they are riding off to slay the Howler King. It wasn’t glorious. It was brutal. It was worse than anything you can imagine.”

  “Won’t people know who you are after what you did today?” Zyrr asked.

  Pendr’s hands stopped. He gave a deep sigh. “I suppose they will. Perhaps there’s no escaping my past, or my true nature. If only—”

  The man before Zyrr froze for a moment and then spun toward the west.

  Pendr, one of the heroes who defeated the Howler King, the fighter who wanted to be a simple blacksmith, muttered an ancient curse.

  Turning to Zyrr, Pendr commanded, “Get back inside, and keep everyone with you.”