by B N Miles
Maur was a pudgy man, on the short side, with a soft face and wide dark eyes. His hair was long and greasy and pulled back into a tight ponytail. His clothes were always immaculate, however, and he walked with a quick step and spoke so quickly Cam had trouble following along sometimes.
“People are on edge, you know,” he chattered as he glided through the tight halls. Cam always marveled at how well he knew the Mansion. There were so many tunnels and dead ends that Cam was constantly getting lost, even with the little marking system on the ground to help guide people.
“Makes sense,” Cam said.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Maur said. “We’ve faced wars before, but it was never like this. People don’t like the unknown, and the Godlings are certainly—” He stopped himself and glanced back at Miuri, who was smiling with raised eyebrows. “My apologies, Princess.”
“None needed,” she said. “The Godlings are very unknown to your people, especially the wolves. I can’t blame you for saying it out loud.”
“It’s just that, we’ve fought men before,” Maur said. “But fighting wolves? It seems preposterous and terrifying. But here we are.”
“What are folks saying?” Cam asked. “The average people around the halls.”
“Oh, you know,” Maur said. “They question the leadership, wonder if they’re better off running than hiding in these caves.” He laughed a little bit. “They’re foolish and don’t know any better.”
“Of course,” Cam said and glanced at Miuri. She was frowning and had her head tilted to the side. “How many people are talking like that, Maur?” he asked.
“Some,” he said. “Not all. Almost none from your own village, if that’s what you’re wondering. Oh no, the Medlar have all been very, very helpful so far. I have to admit, shaman, you have your people well trained.”
He laughed. “That was my father’s doing,” he said.
“Then your father must have been a great man, oh yes. Now, my father, he was a real bastard, loved drinking and playing dice games more than anything in the world. That’s how I became a Warden, you know.”
“Wait,” Miuri said. “You became a Warden because of your father’s gambling?”
“Sold me to the Mansion,” Maur said, nodding. “At the time, I thought it was horrible. But now I know it was the best thing he could’ve done for me. Gave me a place in the world, you know. Gave me a home and stability. If he’d kept me around, I’d probably be dead by now.”
Miuri laughed, a light and airy tone. “That’s a strange way of seeing your father selling you to pay his debts, Warden,” Miuri said.
“Ah, well, so it happens,” he said. “But look, here we are.”
They turned down another side hall and saw a large oak door at the end with light flooding around its cracks. Cam had no clue how Maur had managed to steer them there while talking the whole time, but the man did grow up in the Mansion, so he must have had an intimate knowledge of its tunnels.
Maur opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter. Cam entered first, taking half a moment to let his eyes adjust to the lamp-filled room. Lamps hung from the ceiling suspended on chains and more lamps were spaced at even intervals along the walls.
The room itself was dominated by several large tables set in a square. The center of the square was empty space. Several men and women sat around the table, and Miuri walked off to join the only other Elf present, a woman with red hair, a beautiful face, and a perpetual scowl. Gwedi glared at Cam then softened a bit as Miuri sat beside her.
Lord Remorn stood as Cam moved to take his place beside Elder Dagan. Remorn was tall, nearly Cam’s height, with ashy black hair streaked with gray. His eyes were a deep blue, and he wore his customary gold jewelry on his fingers and a necklace around his throat. His tunic was a fine silk weave with intricate boar motifs around the buttons and lace at the collar and the cuffs. He inclined his head to Cam in a show of respect.
“Thank you for coming, shaman,” he said.
“I thank you for including me, Lord,” Cam said.
Cam took a seat next to Elder Dagan and nodded at the older man. Dagan grunted in reply, and the lamplight glinted off his bald head. He was a weathered old man, with leathery dark skin and callouses on his hands from working fields most of his life. He wore a simple brown tunic and brown trousers with a knife at his belt. He didn’t look like much more than a peasant farmer, but he was one of the most competent people Cam had ever met.
“I believe we’re all here,” Lord Remorn said, scanning the room.
Cam looked around at the other faces. They were all village Elders, each from one of the surviving villages that had made its way to the protection of the Mansion, just as Cam’s had. There were nine villages in total, although there were only seven other village leaders arrayed around him.
Sitting to Lord Remorn’s left was Galla. She gave Cam a pretty smile, and he noted that she had changed since he last saw her. Now she wore a long, midnight blue dress with high collars and long brocaded sleeves. He wondered just how many dresses she owned and how much of her father’s fortune was currently stocked in her closet.
“I hope you have something new for us today, Lord,” Elder Maris of Village Hewitt said. He was a square man with thinning gray hair, a simple gray tunic, and a worn black cloak. His dark eyes flashed, and Cam could tell he was already impatient.
“I have scouting reports to share, Elder Maris,” Lord Remorn said. “If you’d be patient and listen, of course.”
Elder Maris glared at Lord Remorn and Elder Edwin barked a laugh.
“You want Maris to keep his mouth shut?” Elder Edwin asked. “Might as well just tell the wolves to go back home by saying pretty please. They’re more likely to listen.
Elder Edwin was a tall man with a thick black and white beard and pale gray eyes. His skin was tanned but still smooth. He was one of the younger village Elders, and he came from the Wright village.
“Careful,” Elder Maris said. “You think you’re so clever, Edwin, but I’ll gladly show you how a real Elder acts.”
“Enough,” Lord Remorn said, already glowering at the group. “If you’ll all please give me a moment, I will relay the latest scouting reports.”
“Please continue, Lord,” Elder Dagan said. “I apologize for my esteemed colleagues here.”
Lord Remorn nodded to Dagan. So far, the meetings with the Elders and the two Elvish representatives had gone just like this. The Elders bickered with each other, Lord Remorn got annoyed, and eventually the whole thing broke down. Miuri kept saying they would all be better off if the Elders had no power over the Lord at all, and Cam could see where she was coming from.
But the strength of any Mansion depended on the villages it supported. Each village elected its Elders, and those Elders could sit on council at the Mansion during each harvest. That was when laws were passed, judgements were made, borders were drawn. Each village had a say, even if it was a small one, and that way each village had a reason to continue to pitch in to the greater good.
When they all worked together, they were stronger. Cam knew it was true, since the Mansion system had lasted for hundreds of years.
But now they were all threatened by the wolves prowling along their northern borders. Cam would have thought that the immediate and pressing threat of total annihilation by the Weres would draw the Elders together, but instead they continued to fight and bicker about minor things. They couldn’t let go of the past, of the perceived slights and arguments they’d been having for years and years.
Cam wasn’t an Elder, and so he sat outside of the bickering, at least to an extent. He was technically the shaman of his village, a man with the ability to use magic, to touch the priori and shape it to his will. Other villages had shamans, though Cam was the only shaman left in the Mansion at the moment. The other shamans had been sent out with the army, and nobody knew how that fared.
For all Cam knew, he was the last shaman in the region.
“M
y scouts have been following the eastern passes along the river trails,” Lord Remorn said. “They found several smaller wolf packs scattered between Teemly village and Waters village. But they say none of them was large enough to bother the army we had sent out.”
“How many wolves?” Elder Gellar asked, a whip-thin man with a sour face and black hair from the Romero village.
“Small packs,” Lord Remorn said. “No more than fifty wolves per pack. They guess they found a few hundred wolves at most.”
A murmur went up around the Elders. Cam caught Miuri’s eye and she frowned at him, tilting her head to the side.
“That’s a lot of Weres wandering the countryside,” Elder Edward said. “Lord, there has to be something we can do.”
“We have the numbers,” Elder Frew said. “We have men here. If we gather together and bring that boy shaman, we can wipe out those small packs before they have time to rejoin the entire host.”
Cam glanced at Frew, annoyed at the man’s tone, although he agreed with the man’s sentiments. Frew came from Nevin village, one of the most prosperous villages in the region. He had led an expansion some ten years earlier and was known to be a violent fighter. He had long white hair pulled into a tight braid, with thick furs on his shoulders and muscle roping along his chest and arms. His voice was a rumble and he was one of the biggest men in the room. Frew was an aggressive bastard, and although he could go too far at times, Cam felt some aggression was warranted given the circumstances.
“I’ve considered it,” Lord Remorn said. “But if we send an expedition out now and the main host comes to our gates, I fear we won’t be able to hold them back.”
“And so we do what, sit back and wait for the army to return?” Elder Frew asked. “Each day we delay action is another day we lose to the wolves. They continue to gather strength and we continue to rot here.”
“We’re training our men,” Elder Maris said. “We’re gathering supplies. There are still refugees showing up each morning.”
“In small groups,” Elder Frew said. “Threes and fours, and rarely a warrior among them. We gain too few people while the wolves increase their strength by the hour.”
“The Elves pledged their fighters,” Elder Gellar said. He looked over at Gwedi and Miuri, who sat toward the far end of the table, away from the others. “Lieutenant Gwedi, Princess Miuri, have either of you heard from your Lord yet?”
“No, Elder,” Miuri said. Gwedi tended to keep her mouth shut at these meetings, since all she wanted to do was tell everyone to go eat pig shit and die. “Although I’m sure my father is gathering his men as we speak. Turnevene is a several day march through difficult terrain, but he will return.”
Elder Gellar nodded his thanks and Cam caught more than a few of the Elders making disgusted faces. For the most part, the Elders pretended like Gwedi and Miuri didn’t exist, except for a few of the more tolerant among them.
“We can’t wait on the Elves to come save us,” Lord Remorn said. “I can agree with that. But I hesitate to send more men out when it isn’t necessary.”
“What else do your scouting reports show?” Cam asked. “Do we know anything about Lycanica?”
“No,” Lord Remorn said, shaking his head. “Why the wolves are marching through Germanica is still a mystery, at least to us. As far as I know, Lycanica and the wolves had a comfortable holding in the Balkan region, but two years ago they broke free and began to pillage and destroy. It’s taken them that long to get here, but I fear it won’t take them long to roll through us, just like every other Mansion they’ve come across in their march.”
Cam let out a breath. Lord Remorn could be unbearably negative in his assessments, which wasn’t helping at all. Cam saw fear in some of the Elders, and each time Remorn said something about the wolves coming for them, that fear only got worse.
“What about the other villages?” Cam asked. “Teemly hasn’t come here at all, but I know they were hiding behind their walls.”
Lord Remorn made a face and glanced away. “My scouts reported that Teemly fell,” he said. “The wolves took most of their people as slaves.”
“They saw that?” Cam asked.
“Yes,” Lord Remorn said. “There is a large camp several miles northeast of here where a pack is keeping the villagers prisoner. My scouts believe the wolves plan on marching them north and selling them into slavery.”
Cam frowned and leaned forward. “Then that’s the perfect opportunity to strike at the wolves,” he said. “Did your scouts say how many men were being held?”
“They didn’t get close enough to make a full count,” Lord Remorn said. He frowned and tilted his head. “Camrus, I don’t know if we should be discussing any excursions at the moment.”
“I agree,” Elder Maris said. “We need to consolidate our power here and wait for word from the army. Otherwise, we’ll simply weaken our position even more.”
Cam looked at Dagan and the Elder only frowned back. He shook his head slightly and didn’t speak up, which hurt Cam more than he expected.
Lord Remorn leaned toward Cam. “I appreciate your earnest desire to help our people,” he said. “But we must be cautious. We are one of the last standing Mansions on this side of the mountains, and we can’t risk falling too soon or else every Human in the region will be killed or made a slave to the wolves.”
Cam sat back and crossed his arms but didn’t press his argument. He let the meeting continue, and the Elders all aired their grievances. They complained about the rations, about the watch schedules, about the lodgings. They complained about the quality of the arms they were given and the poor condition of the lamps. Cam listened and grew more and more tense as time slipped past.
They should be doing something. He knew the Elders and Lord Remorn thought these meetings were productive, but in the end, they were only discussing trivial minutia. The Wardens could deal with the lamps and the lodgings, there was no need to speak of it during the Elder council.
And yet they spent more time discussing where to get more oil, and which oil would be the best to burn underground, than they spent discussing troop movements, scouting patterns, and possible plans of defense or attack.
It frustrated him to no end, and Cam knew there were those on the council that felt the same way. Gwedi barely concealed her anger and impatience, and Elder Frew zoned out halfway through each meeting, staring at his fingernails and picking at them with a knife.
The meeting concluded when Lord Remorn stood and dismissed the group. Some of the Elders filtered out, speaking amongst themselves. Cam saw the Elders from Hewitt, Wright, Romero, and Waters form a small group as they exited together. He knew they were the biggest faction within the Elders, and they favored staying within the boundaries of the Mansion and hiding behind the rock walls.
It infuriated Cam. He stood and Dagan put a hand on his arm before he could storm off.
“Stay a moment,” Dagan said. “We should talk.”
Cam opened his mouth then shut it again and simply nodded. Lord Remorn nodded to them as he walked past with Galla at his heels. She shot Cam a frown but didn’t speak as she hurried after her father. Elder Frew stayed where he was, and the Elves lingered over near the doorway.
When the room was emptied out, Elder Frew finally stood. “How do you think that went, shaman?” he asked.
“I think it was another waste of time, Elder,” Cam said.
Elder Frew barked a laugh. “Just call me Frew,” he said. “Let’s dispense with formalities while the hens go chatter elsewhere.”
Cam smiled and nodded once. “Fine with me.”
Frew came around the table and stood with Cam and Dagan. Miuri and Gwedi still lingered near the doorway. Miuri said something to Gwedi in their own language, and Gwedi spoke a sharp retort then stormed out. Miuri watched the red-haired Elf leave with a tight expression before joining the others.
“We can’t hide inside the Mansion forever,” Frew said.
“I agree,” Cam said.
“But we won’t convince the others so easily,” Dagan said. “I’m not so sure we should march out what little force we have left before hearing from the army, but I agree that we can’t hide forever.”
“My father will return with the Blades,” Miuri said. “Perhaps we could wait for them.”
“Those people from Teemly, we can’t turn our backs on them,” Cam said. He looked at Dagan. “Arter went to Teemly.”
Dagan let out a grunt. “I know, Cam. I’ve been thinking of him lately.”
“He was an ass, but he was still one of our own,” Cam said.
“If you’re thinking of leading a raid, you can count on the strength of Village Nevins,” Frew said. “Although we may be the only village you can count on.”
Miuri chewed her lip and Cam looked at her. She tilted her head and crossed her arms over her chest.
“It might be a good idea,” she said. “If we can free the people there, and if there are few enough wolves.”
“It’s worth discussing at least,” Cam said.
“But not for long,” Frew said. “We can’t stand around discussing forever.”
“I’ll speak with our people,” Dagan said. “I’ll keep it quiet, but I’ll get a sense of how many will come with us, if we do decide to go out again.”
Cam nodded and put a hand on Dagan’s shoulder. “Thank you, Dagan.”
“Of course.” He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Urspirit protect us all, Camrus. I only hope Lord Remorn won’t be angry if we make a move without him.”
“He isn’t our King,” Frew said.
Dagan only nodded and moved toward the doorway. He hesitated and looked back at Cam, but didn’t speak. He only shook his head again and left.
“That’s a good one,” Frew said. “Lucky your people chose him.”
“We’re all lucky we did,” Cam said.
Frew laughed, deep and low, a rumble in his chest. He gave Miuri a little bow then headed to the door after Dagan. Cam watched the Elder disappear into the hall, leaving him alone with Miuri.