Catch a Wolf

by A. Katie Rose

  Raine chuckled again, his hand brushing my hair from my brow. “You are beautiful.”

  He just had to say something like that. The first time we’ve spoken in days and he turns me into a blubbering, blushing fool. I couldn’t stop the silly grin from taking control of my mouth. I didn’t let go of his hand, however.

  In the distance, I noticed Witraz cantering up a long hill toward us. As I commanded no one ride alone, he’d ridden advance guard with Alun. Yuri and Yuras took their turn as the rearguard, keeping a sharp lookout for wolves. Taking note of the change in terrain, we rode a gentle downhill slope within a small valley, steeper hills topped with trees to either side and behind us. Below us, the basin dropped more sharply down and out of sight. As Witraz rode alone and at a slow canter, I knew whatever news he brought wasn’t urgent.

  He reined in, managing to salute both Raine and me in the same gesture. “There’s a river below, Your Highnesses,” he said. “About a mile and some from here. A big one.”

  I exchanged a quick glance with Raine. Kel’Ratan and Rygel, seeing Witraz’s return, trotted their horses forward.

  “Can we cross it?” Raine asked.

  “Alun is finding a safe passage right now, Your Highness.”

  “So we get our feet wet,” Kel’Ratan said brusquely. “What’s the big deal?”

  “M’lord, it’s deep and wide,” Witraz said. “The terrain ahead turns rocky and steep for miles around. Parts of the river we can see are closed in by steep cliffs, the rest jagged rocks. I also heard rapids downriver.”

  “Well, that’s a different story,” Kel’Ratan murmured, his fingers stroking his mustache. “Should we follow it upriver?”

  “Alun is searching for a place to ford it?” Raine asked.

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  He glanced down at me. “What do you say, beautiful princess?” he asked. “Ready to get wet?”

  Before I could form an opinion, Rygel’s frantic, anguished, voice overruled my thought processes.

  “My prince!”

  Raine’s face suddenly drained of all color. His normally tan skin paled, his scars stark against a color akin to cheese curds. His eyes flattened, changed from warm to frost in a heartbeat. Arianne cried aloud, pressing her hands to her ears as though blasted by a very loud sharp sound.

  Kel’Ratan and I heard nothing. I knew he didn’t, for his puzzled expression might have mirrored my own. All I heard were their harsh breathing, the sigh of the wind through the tall grass and the swish of our horses legs against greenery. What the hell was wrong with them? What was wrong with the three of them? I listened intently—

  The three—

  I suddenly knew what those special three heard. Wolves. The wolves howled again. Not in their ears, but in their heads. The wolves howling meant something very bad, something very, very bad. Something was wrong. Something—

  “Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?” an all too familiar voice boomed from on high.

  My heart froze in my chest. My mouth tasted of dry chalk. My palms bloomed with sweat. Hell’s teeth, he found us.

  My neck creaked as it turned, slowly, oh so slowly, toward his voice. My eyes lifted. I tried to swallow, but nothing at all passed from my mouth to my belly. I knew Mikk ceased his forward motion, but I never touched his reins. Beside me, as though from a distance, I heard a low, guttural growling. The wolves, I thought, haphazard. Now we’re all hearing the bloody wolves.

  Standing on an outcropping of rock on the eastern hilltop, High King Brutal smiled down. He hadn’t taken off his magnificent jeweled crown. At his left hand, still dressed dramatically in all black, Ja’Teel stood. On Brutal’s right tall Tenzin waited with Shirel at heel. Her long tail swung daintily from side to side. Her golden eyes gleamed within the jet depths of her rich velvety fur.

  Flanking the pair were Brutal’s army commanders, decked in purple and gold, their insignias shining on shoulders and breasts, proud plumes in their helmets. I recognized Sangar, third from Brutal’s left, toying with his sword hilt. On the canted hill below them, silent, a dozen bald Tongu with their serpent tattoos and greasy hair hanging to their shoulders, awaited the command to attack. Grizzled hounds, their muzzles free of constraint, growled.

  A platoon of the royal Synn’jhani in white and gold, their plumed turbans, white scarves and black boots stood ready, spears in their fists. As ever, they would take no part in the coming battle but would protect their monarch should the battle swing our way. That seemed doubtful, given the current odds.

  Above Brutal, emerging from hiding in the tree thickets, rode purple and gold cavalry troops. Dozens upon dozens of them, spread out and rode into positions where they’d ride downhill to the attack.

  As though governed by a mind not my own, I turned toward my left. Above us, on the western hill, rode more Federate troops, filling the hilltop. A large company of Khalid’s best cavalry rode into view to either side of us. Among them and on foot, their hounds at their sides, stood Tongu hunters. I didn’t feel the need to count, but guessed their numbers about fifty.

  No doubt, yet more purple and gold troopers filled the hills behind us, but I didn’t bother to look. Brutal wouldn’t have shown his hand unless his troops completely surrounded us.

  Brutal’s voice descended like a god’s from on high. Devilish good humor filled his tone. “My blushing bride and my runaway wolf holding hands.” His laughter rained down. “Isn’t that precious?”

  Growling filled my ears. Dammit, shut up. What use is growling when disaster laughed in our faces? The wolves sincerely needed some training.

  I filled my hands with my bow, nocked an arrow, trained it on Brutal. I doubted I’d manage to kill the lucky bastard, but if opportunity knocked….

  Raine drew his sword. My boys leveled bows at anything that moved. Unfortunately, the entire area moved. Corwyn drew his own steel and planted himself between Arianne and Brutal. Left and Right, never very far away, kicked their horses closer to me. I heard Tor, several feet away, cursing and demanding his own bow. He wanted to fight. While I admired his new-found courage, his bow wasn’t finished. I dared not take my eyes off the High King above me to find him a weapon.

  “You should lower your bow, my dear,” Brutal said genially. “You’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say.” He tittered. “Before you die with such nobility.”

  “I don’t think so,” I replied. To my astonishment, my voice sounded as cool as Brutal’s.

  “Oh, but I think you will,” he said. He raised his hand. “Pay attention, I do so hate to repeat myself.”

  Behind him, a band of a dozen or so soldiers rode out from behind the trees. In their midst, hands bound behind their backs, gagged, rode Yuri and Yuras. My arrow dropped a fraction.

  His grin wide, Brutal pointed out and down. I could not help but turn my head. At the valley’s foot, more soldiers rode into view. They’d also taken Alun, and tied and gagged him whilst still on his horse. I witnessed his fury in his lowered brows and reddened skin tone despite the distance.

  “That isn’t all,” Brutal said. “Please attend.”

  One of his commanders blew a horn. From atop the hill behind Brutal and his people, horses emerged, ropes tied to pommels. Royals in purple and gold turned in their saddles to watch behind them, trusting their mounts to find the safest way down. The horses strained, despite the helpful slope, for they dragged behind them an enormous object.

  My bow dropped. My already dry throat clicked. Kel’Ratan cursed, a low, guttural word. Raine growled again, low in his throat, like a wolf. Low-voiced mutters from Witraz, Rannon and Tor came to my ears on a distant sigh, for all my attention was on that object.

  Bar hissed and struggled, but the huge net that ensnared him held fast. He bit at the strands, his beak snapping against them with no effect at all. His razor sharp talons sliced off the netting with a high-pitched zing sound.

  “I made it special,” Brutal remarked, as though commenting on a fine piece of art
work. “It’s made all of steel cables, fashioned just for him. Oh, don’t worry, he’s not injured. At least not his body.” Brutal chuckled. “His pride may be bruised a bit, however.”

  “You bastard.” I managed those words through lips numb with fear and grief.

  “I’m not, actually,” Brutal replied. “My parents were married in front of an entire temple filled with witnesses.”

  The entourage made slow but steady progress down, stopping not far from Brutal’s left. Bar might be safely trapped, but the troopers worried anyway. Their constant glances over their shoulders, their grip on the pommels of their saddles, their sweat, told me they feared Bar might indeed escape his net and kill them. Their horses sweated as much as they, their white-ringed eyes and the spur-blood on their flanks told me how much they disliked the task put to them.

  Brutal gestured grandly toward the captive and still hissing Bar. “A bull from Colvin lured him into the net.”

  Brutal snickered, his fingers over his mouth. “It seems he treasures his belly more than you, my sweet betrothed.”

  Bar screeched in raw fury, attacking the net that bound him with even greater force. He bit and clawed at the steel binding him, kicking up dust, grass and bits of feather into the still air. The horses holding the cables tight shied nervously, but their riders quelled their restlessness with spurs and firmly curbed bits.

  “You’re not that smart,” Raine growled. “Who planned this for you?”

  “I did, actually,” Brutal replied, pleased, Raine’s insult bouncing off him like a rock from a boulder.

  “I must admit, however,” Brutal went on conversationally, watching Bar’s battle to free himself calmly, as though he watched a kitten play with a ball of twine. “With the incompetents that surround me these days, I’m surprised it worked.”

  Ja’Teel stiffened and Tenzin’s pale eyes slanted downward, his lips thinning. If Brutal didn’t cease insulting those whose aid he desperately needed, he might find them turning against him. Keep insulting them, I silently prayed. Do our work for us.

  I was smart enough to know, however, that Ja’Teel and Tenzin wanted us taken as much as Brutal did. Only after they all got what they wanted would this little alliance fray.

  “Ja’Teel.” Rygel chilling voice spoke for the first time. “I’m going to kill you for this.”

  “How trite,” Ja’Teel commented on a sigh. “What you lack in power you also lack in imagination.”

  I took my eyes off of Brutal long enough to glance at Rygel. His hands clenched into fists, he stared up at his kinsman and enemy, his amber eyes narrowed to mere slits. “You haven’t a hope,” Rygel snarled.

  “How about we find out?” Ja’Teel’s smooth voice carried down on the breeze like a feather. “What say we fight it out like civilized men?”

  “Are you stupid enough to challenge me?”

  Ja’Teel obviously took tittering lessons from Brutal. His harelip curled in a sneer. “Don’t you remember, cousin? I fought you to a standstill with this very blade.”

  He patted the sword at his hip.

  Rygel began to grin. “Ah, I think I want a rematch. Are you still afraid of heights?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Rygel pointed skyward. “How about up there then? Where we can slice each other up undisturbed.”

  “Why ever not?”

  Rygel’s hand snatched his sword from its sheath. An evil grin etched his aristocratic lips. “Come. Let’s dance the dance of air and death.”

  Instantly, he was airborne. Not as a hawk or a raven, but as a man dancing on the breeze. In a flash, Ja’Teel joined him, perhaps fifty rods above the ground. With a ringing clash of steel on steel, the pair fought with their swords, only empty air beneath them. They drifted higher until they grew indistinct, tiny with distance, the sun flashing off their ringing blades.

  Brutal watched them for a time, his lips pursed.

  “Perhaps they’ll dispatch each other up there,” he commented, unperturbed.

  “Don’t you want your wizard alive?” Raine asked.

  Brutal shrugged. “There are more where he came from.”

  He gazed down at me, a smile quirking his lips. “Tsk tsk, you haven’t lowered your bow, Ly’Tana.”

  “I don’t intend to,” I replied, aiming the arrow between his eyes.

  “I thought you understood, my dear.” He gestured grandly to his hostages and Bar. “If you don’t hear me out, they’ll die immediately.”

  “What do you want?”

  “To make you an offer.”

  I half-glanced at Raine. “What kind of offer?”

  Brutal drew himself up grandly. “If you surrender now, you’ll all survive. All of you, including your pet wolf.”

  “Why would you let us live? What do you want?”

  He grinned, shaking his lank hair. “Silly girl, what else would I want? Just your hand in marriage.”

  “Never.” I hissed. “I despise you.”

  Brutal sighed and spoke as though lecturing a four year old. “Don’t play the imbecile, my dear. It doesn’t become you. In an arranged marriage, the couple isn’t required to love, or even like, each other. They are only required to make babies. Together, we will create the expected heir and a spare. You can have all the playmates you desire, like Wolf here, or even the boy.”

  He snickered. “But I suspect it’ll be a few years before he makes much of a playmate.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why would you let us live?”

  Brutal rolled his eyes as though having grown weary with us idiots. “You’re valuable to me alive,” he snapped, impatient. “Perhaps bargaining with you will prove more useful than hunting you down. If you all surrender, here and now, I’ll spare the lives of your men and your little birdie. As part of the bargain to keep them alive, you and I will marry, and our children will inherit Khalid and Kel’Halla. Wolf will submit to me, lead my armies and win his throne. He’ll rule Connacht under my shield and one day, should he choose to marry, his sons will also inherit. Of course, the Princess Arianne will remain with me as hostage to his good behavior.”

  “You’ll let them live?” Raine asked, gesturing around at my boys and Bar.

  Brutal nodded, expansively. “Indeed, provided they swear oaths of loyalty and never bear arms against me.” His dead brown eyes rested on Corwyn. “I’ll pardon all, including the traitor Cephas. He’ll be reinstated immediately into his former post as my Slave Master the instant you surrender. Despite his despicable treachery, I’ll stay my hand to prove my good faith.”

  “That’s a great deal to ask,” Raine said.

  “Not really,” Brutal answered politely. “It’s a win-win situation, a benefit for all involved.”

  “And if we decide to fight?”

  “That is, of course, your choice,” Brutal said somberly. “My soldiers will take you alive, at all costs.”

  He gestured grandly toward a still hissing Bar. “Once you’re in chains, my lovely bride will witness the Tongu hounds ripping her beloved pet to pieces.” His pale finger pointed at the bound and gagged Yuri and Yuras. “I will crucify her warriors one by one, forcing her to watch each and every death. All of you shall witness my wrath, should you decide to spurn my very generous offer. Look around you, you cannot possibly win against such numbers.”

  He raised both hands, palms up, and shrugged, his thin lips faintly smiling. “Your wizard is gone, his power broken,” Brutal continued, his tone mild. “You have no chance, Wolf, truly. You’re surrounded on all sides by a superior force.”

  He paused to gather eyes, though he had no need.

  “This, too, is your choice, Ly’Tana, Wolf.”

  Brutal’s finger now pointed downhill at us, his lips thinned into a fine white line. His dead eyes blazed. “You can be my wife at my side, sharing in all that a Queen should have, my lovely lady. Or you can be my wife, and under my boot heel, a slave in all but name. That’s your choice, my dear. Wolf, you may rule Connacht as her
rightful King, as a man. Or rule it in name only as a mindless, breathing zombie. You pick.”

  “You mind if we talk it over?” Raine asked politely.

  “Sure, sure,” Brutal replied expansively, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll wait. I’ll be right here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But, Wolf,” Brutal added.

  Raine, who had half-turned away, now glanced back up the hill toward Brutal with his brow quirked politely.

  “Just remember you haven’t a chance,” Brutal said, his tone pleasant. “I’ll win either way. Don’t attempt to grow a brain.”

  “I appreciate the advice.”

  Raine lowered his head as I, Kel’Ratan, Witraz, Rannon, Arianne, Corwyn, the twins and Tor gathered close.

  “He can’t possibly be telling the truth?” Kel’Ratan asked, his voice pitched low.

  “Of course he isn’t,” Raine said, restlessly running his hand through his hair. The pup in his left hand yawned, revealing a tiny pink tongue and rows of white needle-like teeth. “He’ll crucify all of you, sic the Tongu mutts on Bar just for kicks. He’ll keep Ly’Tana and I for his amusements and take our countries.”

  “Then why didn’t he simply attack?” Corwyn asked.

  “He still needs the three of us,” I gestured to Raine and Arianne, “alive. If he can neutralize Bar, which he did, persuade us as to his good intentions, he can take us without a fight.”

  “Or risk us being killed in the fighting,” Raine added grimly. “That’s a very big risk, one he’s hoping he won’t have to take.”

  I glanced around at Kel’Ratan, Witraz, Left, Right and Rannon. A sudden surge of pride hit me as I met their fierce eyes, their lack of fear, their readiness to fight to the death. These are the finest warriors Kel’Halla had to offer, the best of men.

  Tor showed no fear either, his hands closing and unclosing as though wishing a weapon were in them. Perhaps I should give him my dagger. He may not be a warrior yet, but he could die as the warrior he wanted to be, with a weapon in his hand.