Aurelius and Gabrian found a place near the back of the crowd and waited until people stopped pouring into the square. After just a few minutes, the bells stopped beckoning, and the square was full. Abruptly, the man on the podium dropped his gaze and allowed his eyes to delve hungrily through the crowd. For a split second, Aurelius felt the man’s gaze linger on him and suddenly sharpen as though with anger or suspicion, but then his eyes moved on and he began to speak.
“Men of Dagheim! The time of the great hunt is upon us! The hydrons are migrating North, out of the plains and into Elder Forest. Sharpen your spears, polish your armor, and ready your shields! Tonight, we honor our families with our sacrifices of blood and sweat and flesh. Do not fear the terrors that await us! Do not flee if they come upon us! Stand firm, and you will not fall. Stand together, and we will be victorious!”
A loud shout went up and a sound like thunder split the air as assembled men began to stomp their feet. The man on the podium waited patiently for the sound to die down before continuing with his speech.
“It is a full moon tonight, fellow huntsmen, but have no fear and the mighty wolf will be afraid of you! They are drawn to your fear; they can smell it. To them, fear is weakness, and they are ever worrying the weakened edges of our ranks. So let there be no weakness! Be steadfast, and they will leave us alone. Yet . . .” Now the speaker shrugged his massive shoulders. “If not, we will kill them and turn them into coats!”
Another shout went up and the thunder of stomping feet resumed. Suddenly the speaker raised his spear and shield to the sky and clanked them together loudly, shouting, “May the blood of our ancestors protect us!”
The crowd repeated his gesture in a deafening clank of shields against spears and then they replied, “Or may we join their ranks in Vaghada!”
The man on the podium descended slowly into the cheering, stomping crowds, shaking his spear in the air for emphasis as he wove through the masses of people. Aurelius estimated there were at least three hundred men in full battle dress, some of them wearing armor beneath their heavy coats, and all of them wielding heavy round shields and long, deadly spears. Their eyes glittered fiercely in the dark, and they projected a collective aura of courage, confidence, and deadly intent.
It was a sight to behold. Aurelius turned to Gabrian in askance, and the old wizard answered him before he had a chance to voice his thoughts. “We must go with them.”
“What? Why?”
“Because we have no choice. In Nordom, every able-bodied man must join the hunt, and for this reason, too, we must go, because Malgore will also be along.”
“I don’t have a weapon. They keep speaking about these wolves and mentioning other deadly ‘terrors.’ How am I going to defend myself?”
Gabrian fished into his voluminous robes and produced Aurelius’s pistol. “Now that you’re not going to shoot me with it, you may have your weapon back.”
Aurelius hesitated, expecting some kind of trick, but when the pistol didn’t explode in Gabrian’s palm, he took it as a sign of trust and snatched his weapon from the old man. He checked the charge, flicked the switch from stun to maximum power, and snapped on the safety before holstering the weapon at his hip. “What about you?”
The old man hefted his staff. “I will not need more than this.”
“That’s how you use magic?”
“No, I can use magic without a staff, just as you can kill a man with your fists rather than a sword. The staff merely focuses my power.”
“I see.” Aurelius turned to watch the man in crimson furs walk by. Now that he could get a closer look, he saw that the jagged points of the crown upon the man’s head were made of giant canine teeth, each of them no less than four inches long. “Who is he?”
“Rathgur of Dagheim, the chieftain of this clan. There are rumors that he is a magician himself.”
“So where is his staff?”
“There are many ways to focus power. One may also wear an amulet, or embed a magical stone in the hilt of a sword. If the rumors are true, I suspect our fair chieftain focuses his power through hidden means. Sorcerers are not popular in Nordom.”
The crowd quieted as they began marching after their chieftain. Gabrian and Aurelius followed. “What do you mean they aren’t popular?”
“The real reason has been lost with the long passage of years, and few now know it, but in the beginning it was because of Thesla hur Loban. In the human tongue, Thesla the Wolf. He is the one you heard about in the Firestone Brewery.”
“So when they said that a wolf took a woman for his mate, they meant that this Thesla guy took her for his mate. That makes a lot more sense.”
“Yes, it does, but I know what you are thinking, elder, and you haven’t asked me how Thesla the Wolf got his name.”
Aurelius hesitated. “How did he?”
“Thesla was a powerful shape-shifter. His favorite form was that of the wolf.”
“You mean he could actually turn into a wolf?”
“Exactly.”
Aurelius shook his head in disbelief. “So a wolf really did take a woman for his mate. He must have changed back to a human before they . . .”
“I doubt it. The problem with shape-shifting is that the longer you stay in any one form, the harder it is to change back, and the less you desire to. One’s essence changes to that of the form which one takes.”
“You’re saying he became a wolf, took a human mate, and had a son by her?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, that’s definitely creepy, Wrinkles, but I don’t see how that would enrage so many people for so many years. She was just one woman. She must have been popular or loved by a lot of people at least.”
“Perhaps. Regardless, that woman’s son was the first werewolf. Since then, many thousands of werewolves have been born to Thesla’s line. Over time, they interbred with real wolves, creating a much larger, more intelligent species which is now the modern wolf, and the old wolves have all but died out.
“As for the werewolves, only a very few pure-blooded ones still live. And those few that there are have become pariahs, hunted through all the seven kingdoms of Mrythdom. All the unsolved crimes in Nordom and even some other parts of the world are blamed on werewolves, though they are very rarely seen and even more rarely caught. Unlike regular wolves, werewolves can blend in with people; they can look almost human right up until the moment they rip out your throat. Whether or not they deserve their reputation as criminals, werewolves are very dangerous and not quite as human as one might hope.”
Aurelius shivered. “Okay, I guess I can see why people hate sorcerers then.”
“Fortunately for Malgore, they hate wolves even more, so they will let a sorcerer join the hunt for the chance that he can protect them on this full moon.”
The crowd of hunters came to the palisades and there they stopped. Aurelius could barely see above the tops of the giant hunters’ heads, but he heard the heavy wooden gates open with a groan, and then the crowd jerked into motion with a roar, running out through the doors with a clanking of steel and crunching of snow.
Aurelius and Gabrian matched their pace and joined the hunters outside the walls. The men flowed into orderly groups, having obviously drilled together often. They quickly formed three tight square formations, and after a moment’s deliberation, Gabrian moved to join the rearmost group. They took up positions behind the square, catching a few smirks and scowls from the soldiers in that rank, as if they were saying, You don’t belong here, strangers. You will die here.
Aurelius felt a chill wind cut through his coat and he gave a violent shiver. He tucked his head into his scarf and looked around to avoid catching any more such glances.
Outside Dagheim’s walls, the snow stretched on for miles, and apart from a broad track that was worn straight through to the brown grass underneath, the snow rose and fell with a pristine regularity, its icy crust glistening blue in the moonlight.
Without a word and scarcely a sound, t
he three formations started forward, falling into line one behind the other. Despite their numbers, even their footsteps seemed to blend into the casually whistling wind and the distant groaning of the mile high forest.
Aurelius found that he could see nothing past the giants in front of him, so he began to trail slightly behind his formation and a little bit to one side. There he watched their progress and saw where they were headed. Despite the darkness, the air was clear and the moon provided enough illumination to see all the way out to the horizon, yet what Aurelius saw was a wall of shadows reaching all the way up to the dark, starry sky.
Trees, Aurelius thought, remembering the impossibly tall forest he’d flown over. We’re going into the forest. . . . He found that that thought unsettled him. It was probably all the talk of wolves, but there was something else as well. Aurelius was beginning to wonder what manner of prey could require an army to hunt it. No hunters he’d ever heard of went out in full battle armor or in such force. It seemed unwise to send out hundreds of clanking spearmen to find and kill a beast, or even a whole herd of beasts. Surely they would scare off the animals they intended to hunt?
Gabrian’s voice interrupted his thoughts, echoing strangely inside his head in a way that sent shivers down his spine. “I wouldn’t linger so far from the phalanx, elder. You’ll be the first to be eaten if you stay back there.”
Aurelius turned to look at the old man and found Gabrian looking back at him.
“I can protect you, but you must stay close to me.”
Aurelius blinked. He could have sworn that Gabrian’s lips hadn’t moved, and yet he’d heard the old man anyway.
“Is that you?” he thought.
The old man smiled and tapped his head. Your thoughts are my thoughts now, elder.
“Get out of my head, Wrinkles,” Aurelius whispered fiercely as he fell back into line behind the phalanx.
“Too late for that.”
Aurelius’s hand found the butt of his pistol.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can kill you before you even draw your weapon, and because even if that weren’t the case, we still need each other, Elder.”
Aurelius gritted his teeth. “Stay out of my head!” With that, he released his weapon and let his ire pass in a few deep breaths of the icy air.
After about ten minutes of marching, they reached the edge of the forest. Even before they passed the tree line, Aurelius caught a whiff of the sharp, fresh scent of evergreen needles. The stars and moon were abruptly snuffed out by the branches overhead, but another, dimmer form of illumination remained to light the forest floor. Here, there and everywhere fluorescent lichen and moss began appearing, growing on the gargantuan tree trunks and branches, casting the forest and the snowy, needle-covered ground in an eerie mixture of blue, red, and green light. Glistening icicles were hanging down from branches overhead and refracting the light in their crystalline depths. It was an ethereal but menacing beauty that seemed somehow fitting for a forest completely devoid of natural light. Jagged shadows danced everywhere, revealing the hunters to any creature with eyes to see them. Worse, no matter how quiet they tried to be, the hunters’ footsteps were like an orderly stampede, disrupting the icy silence between the conifers. Once again, Aurelius wondered what type of prey they could possibly be hunting with such conspicuous force.
The deeper they went into the forest, the more prolific the lichen and moss became, until they could see almost perfectly. Deep, unyielding shadows remained behind every fallen log and looming boulder, but Aurelius felt better to be able to see most of their surroundings. He cast a quick look toward the distant canopy overhead and found his gaze lingering even as his jaw dropped. The trees went on forever above them. The branches spiraled higher and higher in a skeletal web of brown and gray that was almost entirely dead from the lack of penetrating sunlight. The fluorescent lichen and moss grew where leaves could not, and spiraled ever higher until their subtle illumination blurred into a dim mass of color and blotted out the canopy. Gigantic, hanging icicles glistened like a never-ending series of crystal chandeliers, all of them refracting cool shades of blue and green with an occasional splash of bloody red. Aurelius imagined one of those icicles falling on someone, and realized with a prickle of dread that one of those icicles would easily kill whoever it landed on, helmet or not. Even without predators, the forest held a deadly threat for all who walked the labyrinthine trails between the trees.
They’d been stalking through the forest for barely five minutes when he heard it. At first he thought it was an earthquake because the sound vibrated underfoot even before it shuddered through the air. Without a word of warning, phalanxes halted their march and Aurelius almost piled into the man in front of him. The ranks went incredibly still and quiet, and then the sound came again: a deep thrumming roar, accompanied by a steady plod of vibrations underfoot and the occasional cracking of branches. Then a much louder crack! sounded and Aurelius’s gaze snapped up in time to see a giant icicle come crashing down between the branches. He watched in slow-motion horror as it fell toward the foremost phalanx. The men in its path didn’t even shuffle their feet. Aurelius winced. Then it hit the ground and there came a sound like a whole case of wine shattering; the formation was sprayed with jagged shards of ice as the icicle shattered barely an arm’s length from their feet. Again, they didn’t move a muscle.
When Aurelius recovered from his shock enough to see, he realized why they were so stolid. There, not far from the foremost phalanx, moving through the hazy blue-green glow of the lichen and moss was a massive shadow. With every plodding step the ground shook and rumbled. Aurelius meandered out of line with the formation on wobbly legs to get a better look. It was hard to judge size against the gargantuan trees, but the way the ground was shaking with its footsteps, Aurelius knew the creature had to be monstrously large. It had a long, fat tail and walked on two legs, though its arms looked suspiciously like another pair of legs, since they were at least as thick and muscular. A line of spines ran all the way down the creature’s back and tail, ending in a vicious nest of spikes at the tip. Aurelius gaped at the sight. He’d never seen something so incredible in all his life. The monster passed out of sight behind a group of trees, but Aurelius waited until the creature’s lumbering footsteps had faded to a mere shiver in the frozen ground before he dared to move. Another roar sounded, now just at the edge of hearing, and the phalanxes shuffled into motion again, now marching at a more subdued pace.
Aurelius whispered, “What was that? A dragon?”
“No, a leviathan.”
“A what?”
“The largest and most fearsome predator in all of Mrythdom. Just one of them could wipe out this entire hunting party, but fortunately for us, they are nearly oblivious to the smaller creatures in their world.”
“So it won’t try to attack us?”
“Not unless we get in its way or appear to be threatening it or its young.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Gabrian turned to him with an amused look. “Yes, it is.”
* * *
The wolf’s fangs dripped with saliva as he watched the serried ranks of men pass his hiding place. He lay flat on his belly beneath a fallen log, golden eyes piercing the gloom to search the phalanxes for but one man. There, marching a few ranks up in the rearmost phalanx was a man with wavy blonde hair and a smirk on his lumpy human face. His coat was a rare cobalt blue, shot through with streaks of pure white. It was difficult to tell the true color of the coat in the dim, colored light of the forest, but Reven knew the patterns and colors of that coat intimately. Its previous owner had been his mate, his precious Doana, and the only good thing to have ever happened in his long, miserable life.
Now she was gone. Slaughtered like an animal for her alleged crimes, skinned to keep an evil man warm during the long, frigid winters.
A rivulet of moisture trailed down from Reven’s running snout, making his
nose itch. He could smell the stink of those humans a mile away. Even though their numbers were in the hundreds, their fear was a palpable, sweaty stench that stirred the still, pine-scented air of the forest until it was churning with their nauseating odor.
Reven growled softly, his lips peeling back from long, dagger-like teeth. He’d kill them all, one by one until he reached the man wearing his mate’s coat. Then he’d skin the man alive and see how he liked it.
Chapter 7
Apart from the appearance of the leviathan, the forest had been deadly quiet for the past hour. Aurelius was starting to get tired of the endless marching, and he began to wonder how long it would be before they came upon their prey.
Hydrons. What was a hydron anyway?
The hunting party slowly rounded a massive tree trunk that looked just like all the other massive tree trunks. It was as wide at the base as any skyscraper, though considerably less uniform, knobbed with shadowy holes that spoke of small woodland creatures making their homes inside the ancient wooden structure. The mighty roots stretched out from the base like girders, some reaching a dozen stories up from the ground. The roots left deep curtains of shadows around the base of the tree, and Aurelius found himself obsessively checking those shadowy crevices to see if there was anything hiding between the roots, but his eyes couldn’t pierce the gloom unless the lichen and moss were particularly dense.
There seemed to be too many places for something to hide. Aurelius unconsciously began walking a little closer to his phalanx, sometimes nearly stepping on the feet of the man in front of him. He was overly aware of his ears; they were burning from listening keenly to the silence for so long.
Or possibly just from the cold.
Yet the air was curiously warmer inside the forest, as though the canopy overhead provided some type of insulation. By his reckoning the canopy should have only made the forest colder, but perhaps the trees generated some type of warmth. Or maybe it was the fluorescent growths. Light and heat typically went together.
Mrythdom: Game of Time Page 6