The Baying of Wolves

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The Baying of Wolves Page 17

by J. Thorn


  The young scout looked to the other, elder scouts, who nodded for him to continue. “Yes, Lord. At least, as far as we can see, they are in disarray, and maybe no longer. Maybe broken.”

  “And what of the hunter clans? Those usually on the plains? They are still there?”

  The scout shook his head. “We saw none on the plains, only empty camps, all abandoned. Folks are fleeing for the west to escape the collapse and the Va—” The young man stopped half way through the word.

  “Don’t be coy, boy,” said Donast. “Speaking the name of the Valk doesn’t curse you.”

  “Sorry, my lord. Well there are rumors of attacks on smaller camps, and that’s why many think the hunter clans have fled, or have already been attacked by the Valk…”

  Donast paced the ground, many thoughts whirling through his mind. They had this secure camp, the best spot for miles, but without other clans they could be in trouble. The Valk didn’t come this far out, usually, but if smaller camps had been attacked further west, then the Valk were already a problem.

  But maybe they will hold to their truce, he thought. Maybe they will pick smaller, easier targets. That must be the way of it. They had agreed this and made promises. But would they keep them now? That the Valk were even above ground during the day, and launching assaults on clans, was something new.

  He turned and looked to the sky. The sun was high but edging far from its summit. Four hours and it would start to lose its light for the day. There was not enough time to pack down the camp and get very far.

  Strom, Nikkt’s lieutenant, stood nearby, and Donast could tell he was also deep in thought, probably considering the same news.

  “What do you think?” Donast asked.

  Strom nodded. “Too late to move today, I’d say. It’s a few days’ march to this new bridge, so we would have to make camp several times between, if, as I suspect, you are considering our options and whether we should follow the rest.”

  “I hate following,” Donast said, his voice low.

  “I know that,” Strom said with a shrug. “Maybe the wrong choice of words.”

  Donast shook his head. “No, the right choice. But regardless, we will hold here, tonight. We’ll double the watches and tell everyone not to pack down their goods for a long stay, just what’s needed.”

  “And then?” asked Strom.

  “Then we consider our situation in the morning.”

  Chapter 46

  “What was this place?” Seren asked as she walked down the aisle. They’d followed him up the stairs onto a large landing space that led to two more huge double doors, ones that dwarfed the front entrance. Age and nature had worn away at the thick wood, but even after all the years they had stood there, they still hung on hinges that refused to break. Beyond the doors was an indoor space unlike any she had ever seen. Seren marveled at how such a vast area could remain under a roof and be unknown to the world outside.

  The doors opened onto a slope that gradually made its way down past aisle upon aisle of seating, until it ended hundreds of feet away at the foot of a massive raised area. Little light shone into the auditorium, but half a dozen small, dirty windows lined each side of the hall, high up, almost near the ceiling, and they let in enough of the sun to allow her to see.

  She stopped halfway down the slope and glanced around at the sea of chairs. Most of the seating hadn’t weathered as well as the doors, the wood crumbling into splinters and dust, leaving a thin and rusted metal frame, but enough of the seats were still intact to give her an idea of what it must have looked like back before the end of civilization.

  There were thousands of seats, she thought, enough to seat everyone still alive, everyone she had ever met. They could all fit in this one room.

  “It was called a theatre,” said the man. He had moved down and was making his way up a small set of steps that led onto the platform. “That much I have learned from reading what was left behind.”

  A theatre. The thought echoed in Seren’s mind.

  The man paused at the top of the stairs. “In the old times, many people would come here, sit in the chairs and be entertained.”

  “Entertained? What do you mean?”

  “Well, of that I’m not entirely sure, but what I have found suggests that this stage, or so it was called back then, would be filled with other people, most of them often wearing costumes or outfits, and they would pretend to be other people in order to retell some story. I think they would sing as well. Old songs that are now forgotten. They called it a play or a show.”

  Seren considered this for a moment. “You mean like the street players?”

  The man regarded her curiously. “I’ve not heard that term.”

  Seren coughed. Every step inside this ancient chamber seemed to disturb some pocket of debris, sending a cloud of dust into the air. “They perform on the roadside, mainly in Eliz, but I’ve sometimes seen them in Wytheville. Beggars and clanless people, all dressed up in bright clothing, singing and telling stories for donations. People mostly ignore them, but some give them stuff, you know—food, water, or some junk they don’t need. We had a group come to the village once, heading north to who knows where. They stayed a couple of nights and then carried on. They did shows, with singing and music on these drums they had. Judas, who was clan chief back then, let them stay and gave them food and stuff.”

  “Ah,” said the man. “Yes, I see. Well I suppose this hall was once a place for a much grander version of that. Fascinating, don’t you think? How people of long ago had so much that they could throw away the resources to make such a huge place just to have somewhere to sit and watch storytellers. And they built it so well it’s withstood everything nature has thrown at it over hundreds of years, where many more practical buildings have fallen.”

  Seren heard a low whine behind her and looked back. Sorcha had only come as far as the top of the slope, and was eyeing the huge hall with suspicion. “Is this where you live now? This place?”

  The man shook his head. “No. I just love to visit here, sometimes. Well, it also happens to be one of the places where we have an observation room outside of our home that allows us to see through the cameras and speak through the loudspeakers across the city.”

  “Then where do you live?”

  “A hidden place, though it’s not that far from here. I hope you don’t mind but we’ve grown very suspicious and untrusting over the years, and the others, my friends, wanted to send someone to meet you, and get to know you a little, before we allowed you any further knowledge.”

  “And they sent you.”

  “Yes. We flipped a coin for it, and I was chosen.”

  Flipped and coin were two terms unknown to Seren, but she didn’t ask. Too many questions might annoy him, she thought.

  “The others are not as open as I, and some were against even contacting you, but I can be persuasive, and they have changed their minds...”

  Seren squinted, peering around the hall. They had been watching her, she realized. He had brought her into this place where there were many of the CCTV things dotted around, she could see them now. His friends had been watching her all along.

  “We had to be careful, of course. There was always the possibility that we had made a bad judgement and that you were not alone and may bring trouble. But that doesn’t appear to be the case, and now the others are quite keen to meet you and hear about what is going on in the wide world beyond our borders.”

  Chapter 47

  The triumphant crossing of the makeshift bridge gave way to the mundane. Shouting, hollering and good cheer turned into the usual mumblings over who was going to hunt and who was going to build the fires. Night came quickly, and its arrival surprised Jonah. He had been directing each of the clans as they crossed the breach, guiding the traffic to different areas of the new camp. It would be temporary, for sure, but that did not stop the leaders from squabbling with each other over the lot with the most space or level ground. He mediated a couple of arguments that too
k longer than he anticipated. He promised himself he would reward Keana for her ingenious idea of using the metal plates to get the carts over the bridge.

  Declan appeared next to Jonah at the great bonfire in the middle of the camp. The other leaders would not arrive until they had settled their clans in, and he thought that by then the sun would have completely set, which gave Jonah some time to eat the roasted venison Declan brought. The steaming meat was skewered on the end of a sharpened stick and had been seasoned and browned to perfection.

  “Sasha had to practically rip this from Gideon’s hands. The boy eats like wolf.” Declan had been given the meat by Sasha to deliver to him.

  Jonah smiled, accepting the venison from Declan. He took a bite. Although the moisture had been cooked out of the meat, the salty seasoning made Jonah’s eyes water. He savored the cut of deer and used a swig of shine to tenderize it.

  “Practically no fat. Tough to keep it from drying out.”

  Declan shrugged. “If there were wild boar running around here, don’t think for a second we wouldn’t be eating it now.”

  Jonah nodded as he continued chewing. “This is fantastic. It warms my belly. Thank you for bringing it.”

  Declan dipped into an exaggerated bow before turning and observing the people moving about the camp. Some families had kept their carts tied down, while others had set up as they would a stop on the road.

  “I miss them,” Declan said.

  “I know. I do as well. I didn’t know Rav for as long as I’ve known Gunney, but…”

  “The Dustfall. It was nice. I know that without the bodies, you didn’t have to order a ceremonial one.”

  “Declan.” Jonah tore the last hunk of flesh from the stick and tossed it into the weeds. “Those men earned it. A Dustfall was never in question.”

  The other leaders filtered into the area around the great bonfire. Some carried flasks, while others held their weapons. Jonah considered each face, trying his best to determine what each clan would want to do. In the end, he was the leader of the Elk and they had all chosen to follow him. They would do what he wanted to do.

  “They come.” Declan’s words interrupted Jonah’s thoughts. “I will stand to the side, should you need anything.”

  “We must be able to return to Eliz.”

  The demand came almost as soon Declan stepped into the shadows and the leaders gathered around the fire. There would be no formalities, no pleasant or traditional transitions into the looming question. And now one had already declared an answer.

  “Ghafir has spoken to clan leaders in and around the lands of Eliz.”

  The men settled down as Jonah began to speak, even the leader demanding an immediate return to the old city.

  “They say that the grumbles continue, that structures in Eliz are crumbling.”

  “They’ve been crumbling for decades. Centuries, even.”

  Jonah nodded, acknowledging the comment, before continuing. “Yes. But even for that place, there is a lack of confidence in the ancient structures. Families who have inhabited it for generations are leaving. It is not safe.”

  “Then what do we do, Jonah?” The question came from the other side of the fire, the tone genuine and concerned.

  “We go west.”

  A murmur went around the fire, and Jonah gave his words time to settle in. He counted to five before speaking again.

  “We need to find out where the Cygoa are and what is happening further west.”

  “But the taint is on the land too far to the west. We’ve known that for a long time.”

  “Tis true. But I cannot in good conscience lead the Elk back to Eliz. And therefore, I would not lead your people, either. We can make camp here, temporarily. While we do that, I will send a scouting party to the west. They will report back on the Cygoa, the taint and anything else we need to know before moving our clans that way.”

  “What if we are not sure we want to take our clans with you?”

  “You are under no obligation to do so. Please take a few minutes to talk amongst yourselves, consider what I have said. When we reconvene, I will explain my plan.”

  Jonah felt a bead of sweat on his forehead, and he had to turn from the meeting and step into the cool night air. He took a deep breath and put his hands on his knees. Jonah didn’t know if the stress and physical demand of the past few months had begun to take a toll, or if maybe the venison had been bad. He stood up quickly, which sent his stomach tumbling over itself.

  “Jonah.”

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Declan. He recognized the face even in the darkness.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Declan. Thanks for checking on me.”

  “Sure.” The boy spoke again. “I have an idea.”

  Jonah twirled his pointer finger in the air, doing his best to keep his dinner where it belonged.

  “Send multiple scouting parties. I will lead one.”

  “Multiple?”

  “Yes. Not one directly west but several on tangents.”

  Jonah thought about it, and although it seemed logical, from the boy’s inexperienced point of view, Jonah knew that meant three times the resources. Three times the risk.

  “I cannot afford that many men.”

  “Then make the parties smaller. Sacrifice strength for speed, agility.”

  He looked at Declan and the boy held his gaze.

  “A week. Tis all I’m willing to send you out for, all I’m willing to risk of you and the other parties.”

  “Plenty. With smaller parties, we can travel further. Faster. Lighter.”

  A roar came from the fire, where two of the leaders had gotten into a drunken wrestling match. Declan looked to the fire and then back to Jonah.

  “C’mon. I can do this. I want to do this. For Rav. For Gunney.”

  “Okay, Declan. Okay. But we will be heading out in two days, aiming for the Ninety-Five and Rocky Mount. We can’t stay here. You’ll have to head out and head back to there. A week, no more.”

  Declan grinned and slapped Jonah on the shoulder before running back to the bonfire. Jonah felt the earth steady beneath his feet, and although he belched, the venison seemed to be staying where it belonged. He walked over and into the firelight. The men stopped talking.

  “I will send three scouting parties. All to the west in slightly different directions. Declan will coordinate the parties and lead one. In two days, we leave this camp and head slowly westward. The scouts will meet us along the road, and we can make further plans based on what the scouts report back about the Cygoa and other threats. If none return, we head for Ninety-Five and Rocky Mount.”

  The men cheered and left the fire for their families, none staying to question Jonah’s decision. He stood at the fire for a moment before Declan stepped out of the shadows.

  “I will not let you down, Jonah.”

  “Go now, before I change my mind. Find two other dependable warriors and put them in charge of scouting parties. Set them off in their directions, and make sure they know to meet us at Rocky Mount. Then get going.”

  “Right away, my lord.” Declan turned and took a step when Jonah called him back.

  “Declan. Do not go too far west, and for the love of all that is sacred, do not engage the Cygoa. They are lethal, even in small groups.”

  “I will not.”

  “I mean it. If you do, you not only risk your life but you risk the life of all the Elk. Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. Then go before I change my mind.”

  Chapter 48

  The man led Seren to a place surrounded by wire fence. It was nearer than she had expected, only a short walk away, maybe half a mile from the theatre. Most of the surrounding fence was rusting and had collapsed in many places, and beyond the wire mesh the grass had grown almost as tall as her shoulders through the cracks in the concrete.

  The gates themselves were open, the access bar lying to one side where it had prob
ably been abandoned centuries ago. The buildings in the distance looked derelict. A façade, she thought. If the place looks long abandoned, then anyone wandering by may believe there is nothing of use there.

  She began to wonder if this was even where the man lived. Maybe this wasn’t the place. They may just travel across the open space and find some fortified defense beyond it.

  “This isn’t as undefended as it first appears,” the man said, almost as though he had read her thoughts. “We prefer to keep things hidden, but that does not mean they aren’t there.”

  She left the comment unanswered, not wishing to pry any further. The man seemed willing enough to tell her details of what surrounded her anyway, so if there was something he wished to tell her, he would. Best, she thought, at least for the time being, to take whatever is offered. And keep your hand on your bow, just in case.

  Once they were through the gates, she followed him along a roadway that led through the grass. It was cracked and overgrown with weeds but clear enough that she didn’t worry about what might be slithering or crawling around in the grass. The road led perfectly straight for hundreds of yards across the barren flat land, heading toward some more distant buildings, those beyond the collapsed husks she had seen from outside the fence.

  The real buildings, she thought. Far enough out of sight that no one would spot them from outside the fence.

  As they approached, she began to make out more buildings behind the dome-topped structures. There were rows of large box shaped buildings with a single window and door on one side lined up along the side of the road, and behind them some type of glass structure, though she couldn’t make out the detail this far away.

  And then, behind the row of domed buildings stood a massive concrete structure. It was not tall, having just one floor, as far as she could see, but the area it swallowed up would be half of the village, back in the forest.

  Behind the concrete monstrosity were another row of strange shaped buildings that were also massive. Seren suspected that they may be made of metal, though how such structures could be still standing was beyond her. They reminded her of overturned barrels, half submerged in the ground, a hundred feet tall, with massive gates on the front that stood half open. It was too dark inside to see what was in there.

 

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