Although Grindin was a small man and weighed next to nothing, it was still tough going as I sprinted through the forest, trying to maintain my balance over the uneven terrain. The bald apprentice did little to make it easier on me, either, as he began to pound his fists against my back and kick his legs, all the while screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Be quiet,” I grunted as I crashed through the brambles, heedless of the thorns ripping at me as I ducked beneath low-hanging branches. I could hear the Cardians shouting as they gave chase, but even with Grindin’s weight slowing me down, I seemed to be increasing my lead on them somehow. Perhaps Cardians were just as poor at running as they were at fighting, I thought. Then I smirked. Unless they were running away from a battle, that is.
“Let me down, you stupid ox!” Grindin shouted as he twisted and turned like a writhing snake on my shoulder while striking at my lower back and buttocks.
I barely felt the blows through my armor, with many of them landing inadvertently on the hard oak shaft of my sheathed axe, which probably hurt him more than it did me. Then the pounding stopped and I felt Grindin clutching clumsily at the hilt of my sword. I swatted the offending hand away. “Try that again,” I wheezed as I leaped over a fallen log, “and I’ll take a few of your fingers off and feed them to you.”
“You can’t touch me!” Grindin shouted, returning to his earlier strategy of striking my back again. “You’ll burn if you do!”
A tall pine tree rose in front of me, and I twisted my torso sharply as I reached it, grunting with satisfaction as Grindin’s head cracked solidly against the trunk. I grinned as the apprentice yelped in pain and indignation.
“You bastard!” Grindin sputtered. “I’ll kill you for that!”
I reached an ash tree next, and I repeated the same maneuver, this time crunching Grindin’s entire upper body into the mass of the trunk. Grindin went limp on my shoulder, moaning as I kept running. “I didn’t touch you,” I said to the apprentice. “The tree did. There’s plenty more where those came from, too, so you might want to keep your mouth closed from now on.”
I wasn’t sure if Grindin was still conscious or not, but either way, he didn’t say another word after that. I kept running, wondering why I was even bothering with the bastard. I knew I should just cut his throat and leave him to die, but something told me I might need him later. Besides, the man wasn’t all that bright, and I found it hard to imagine him coming up with such an elaborate scheme to kill me. Someone else must have planned this, and the only way I would find out who that someone was—much as it galled me—was to keep Grindin alive.
I reached a deep gully and headed downward, fighting to stay upright as I plunged through densely-packed leaf mold and stumbled over long-dead branches. Grindin bounced and flopped on my shoulder as I descended, and I almost lost my grip on him several times before we made it safely down. A fair-sized stream awaited me on the gully floor, winding its way westward around a bend. I splashed into the eight-inch-deep water without hesitating, tripping over loose rocks and fighting the clinging muck of the streambed. Finally, after several minutes of awkward running, I came to a fallen spruce that had rolled down the embankment and now lay with half of its length submerged in the stream. The other half spanned the distance from the bank to the water, with the roots caught up in the branches of a tall birch ten feet up. A buildup of leaves, twigs, and several glistening logs were pressed tightly against the tip of the tree, creating a natural dam that forced the flow of water into a gurgling channel around it.
Was there enough space under that overhang to hide? I glanced up at the steep bank, knowing I needed time to catch my breath. I crouched down and fought my way through the outer prickly branches of the spruce into a darkened, narrow gap near the base of the earth wall. I grunted in satisfaction. It would do. The smell of oozing sap was overwhelming as I flipped Grindin roughly off my shoulder and propped him up with his back against the bank.
Grindin groaned and his eyes fluttered several times before they opened. I saw he had a nasty scrape along one side of his face. I smiled at him humorlessly. “I was hoping you were dead.”
Grindin’s face twisted with hatred. “Your soul will burn for this, you—”
“Enough of that!” I hissed. I grabbed the apprentice by the neck and dragged him toward me until my face was an inch from his. “I won’t be lectured about burning by someone like you. I’ve been dreaming of killing you for a long time now, you sniveling worm, so don’t tempt me.” Grindin stubbornly opened his mouth to say something else, then he saw the promise in my eyes and he wisely closed it. “Now,” I said, squeezing the apprentice’s throat to get his attention. “Who planned this little greeting for me?” Grindin just gagged and shook his head, so I tightened my grip and rattled him around a little, then let go when his face began turning dark purple. I ignored the man’s tortured breathing as he forced air into his lungs. “Who?” I demanded again.
“I can’t tell you,” Grindin gasped.
I snorted and slapped a palm tightly over Grindin’s mouth, then gripped the little finger on the apprentice’s left hand and twisted it savagely. The bone snapped with a sharp click as Grindin’s body heaved, his eyes bulging in surprise, his squeal of pain muffled by my hand.
“I asked you a question,” I growled. “And you have nine more fingers. Who is behind this?”
Grindin hesitated, his body shaking and his eyes tearing from the pain. I felt no pity whatsoever as I grabbed another of his fingers. “Lord Boudin!” Grindin mumbled in panic through my palm as I started to bend the digit back. I relaxed the hand clamped over his mouth, returning it around his neck.
“What name did you just say?”
“Lord Boudin,” Grindin croaked. “He’s the one behind this.”
I frowned. I’d never heard of the man. “Who is he?”
Grindin shrugged weakly. “I don’t know.” I bent his finger again and the apprentice sobbed. “Please! I swear it! That’s all I know! I’ve never even met him!”
“Then how did you set this all up?”
“Those men back there,” Grindin said as he clutched his injured hand to his chest. He coughed in my face, his fetid breath washing over me. I twisted his head aside with disgust as he hacked again.
“You mean the Cardians?” I asked impatiently. Grindin nodded as he continued to cough. I probably should have been worried someone would hear him, but I was too focused on what the apprentice was telling me to care.
“Their leader is a man named Andret,” Grindin explained. “He came to see me a few weeks ago with instructions from Lord Boudin to write that letter to you.”
I pursed my lips as I thought about that. “How did they know where to find you?” I finally asked.
Grindin shifted his eyes away, and I could tell that he was about to lie. I dragged his injured hand from his chest and wrapped my mailed fist around his thumb. Then I waited, my expression blank, though I’m sure my eyes showed my resolve.
Grindin whimpered several times as I put pressure on his thumb before finally he slumped forward in resignation. “Lord Corwick told them where I was.”
I grunted in surprise. “Pernissy?”
Grindin nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”
“You’re lying,” I said, giving the apprentice a hearty shake. “Pernissy is locked up beneath the king’s palace. He couldn’t have told anyone anything.”
Grindin started to shake his head before I had even finished talking. “It’s not him.”
I felt cold dread wash over me. “Explain,” I said softly.
“Lord Corwick—”
I squeezed Grindin’s throat in warning. “I am the Lord of Corwick. You would do well to remember that from now on.”
“Er, Pernissy escaped the dungeons three months ago,” Grindin said. “The man down there is just some stupid peasant who looks like him.”
I slowly released my grip on the apprentice and he sagged, drawing in great gulps of air as he rubbed at his to
rtured throat. Could it be true? Could Pernissy really have been free these past few months? I shuddered as I imagined all the mischief that the man could have gotten into in that time. I knew I had to get word to Tyden as soon as possible. Pernissy hated his cousin with a passion now, and the king’s life was undoubtedly in danger. I glanced with distaste at Grindin. “If what you are saying is true, how did Pernissy know you would be here? Even I couldn’t find you, and believe me, I tried.”
Grindin hacked and spat, looking at me with wary eyes. “He’s the one that sent me here in the first place.”
I gaped at the apprentice. “How?” I finally demanded.
“It was the day after the king’s coronation,” Grindin said. “I was told to travel to Thidswitch and take the vows, then wait for further instructions.”
Nothing Grindin said was making any sense. I was beginning to wonder if the man was toying with me, despite what he knew I would do to him. If he was, I vowed, a broken finger or two would be the least of his worries. “I was there at the coronation,” I said, shaking my head, “and I saw Pernissy dragged away. He couldn’t have gotten word to you.”
“He didn’t,” Grindin replied. “The First Son did. I was drowning my sorrows in some inn, about to throw myself on the mercy of the king when the priest’s men found me and took me to him.”
I cursed. The last I’d seen of those two, Pernissy was promising to tear Son Oriell’s eyes out and piss in their sockets. I snorted in disgust. It seemed even the most treacherous of rats had a way of working out disagreements. “Why come to this town of all places?” I asked.
“Son Jona is related to the First Son,” Grindin said meekly. “He’s his nephew, I think. Son Jona is the one who approved my application.”
“Lord,” I said in annoyance. Grindin looked at me strangely. “You call me lord from now on and show me the respect I deserve, you bastard, or so help me, I’ll snap the rest of those fingers and start working on some toes.”
Grindin lowered his eyes. “Yes, lord.”
I looked away from the apprentice, thinking. Why go to such elaborate lengths to kill me? I knew Pernissy hated me and wished me dead, but did he hate me enough to risk his escape being exposed if the plot failed? And who was Lord Boudin, for that matter? And what was his stake in all of this? I shook my head, unable to fit the pieces together just as muffled voices reached me, coming from the ridge of the gully directly above us. The voices grew stronger, at least three, while I could also hear the sounds of booted feet splashing through the water to the south. I cursed myself for a fool, knowing that I had spent too much time questioning Grindin. The Cardians had used that time to catch up to us. I glanced at the apprentice, who I could tell was sorely tempted to call out to our pursuers. I drew my sword and placed it against his thin chest.
“One word,” I whispered, “and it will be your last in this world.”
Grindin glared at me, but he nodded and said nothing.
“Do you see anything?” I heard a man call out from the gully ridge. I glanced up, but the spruce boughs were still thick and green with sap, with only the tips on the outer branches beginning to show signs of browning. I couldn’t see the men up top from where I crouched, which meant they couldn’t see us either.
“Nothing,” came back the gruff reply from the south. “We’re wasting our time out here. The bastard must have turned and headed west.”
I peered through a gap in the boughs, just able to see three men cautiously making their way along the stream. Had they missed seeing where I’d climbed down the gulley, or did they know we were here and were trying to catch me off-guard? It seemed hard to imagine that anyone could miss the trail that I had gouged into the soil on the way down, but perhaps these men weren’t very competent trackers. The Cardians were getting closer to the felled tree with every step, and I felt sudden hope that maybe they really didn’t know we had come this way. If that were true, then there was a chance they also wouldn’t realize that there was enough space beneath the spruce for two men to hide. That hope was dashed with my next thought, however, as I realized even the poorest of trackers wouldn’t fail to see the prints that I’d left in the mud by the tree. I put my finger to my lips as Grindin shifted his weight, and I pressed the tip of Wolf’s Head tighter to his chest.
“We’re going to double back,” the man above called down. “Follow the stream as far as you can. They probably didn’t get this far, but we need to be sure.”
I heard one of the men in the water grunt in response, then the rustle of leaves as the soldiers up top walked away. I grinned. So, they really had missed my trail, it seemed, and now I only had three men standing in the way of my freedom. I glanced at Grindin as he stared back at me sullenly. I knew dealing with the approaching Cardians would be difficult with the little bastard just waiting for an opportunity to sound the alarm. I still wasn’t ready to kill the apprentice, much as I dearly wanted to, so only one solution was left for me.
“I’m going to take care of those men out there,” I said in a low voice. “You stay here and keep your mouth shut.”
I saw Grindin’s eyes light up. “Of course, lord. You have my word. Not a peep from me, I swear.”
I smiled. “Good, then we understand each other perfectly,” I said as I lifted Wolf’s Head and crashed the golden hilt down on Grindin’s skull.
The apprentice gasped in surprise and slumped sideways, his face pressed into the muck. I sighed, thinking for a moment that I should just leave him that way before I reluctantly grabbed the back of his robe and dragged him up so that he could breathe. Grindin was unconscious as far as I could tell, but just to be sure, I covered his mouth again and bent his broken finger back, watching his face closely. There was no reaction. Satisfied, I propped the apprentice against the wall, then turned, using my sword to part several branches in front of me so that I could see what was happening. The Cardians were only twenty yards away now, with a big, bearded man in the lead as he made his way down the center of the stream. His companions were following along either shore, searching the banks for any signs of footprints.
The big Cardian’s eyes were focused on the spruce, and I heard him whistle softly to the other two before he motioned with his sword toward the fallen tree. I knew he had seen the tracks. I dropped to my belly and dragged myself closer, trying not to make any noise. What would they do? I paused behind a drooping branch to watch their progress through the long needles. If it were me out there, I decided, I would have my men encircle the spruce on all sides, with one coming from the north, the other the east, while the third man stayed where he was as a distraction.
The Cardian leader whistled a second time, gesturing for his companions to move east out of my line of sight. I had guessed right.
“We know you’re in there,” the big Cardian said loudly once his men had disappeared. “Come out and we’ll let you live.” He glanced to his right and I saw him nod imperceptibly. I knew I didn’t have much time.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I called out before I scurried back to Grindin.
The apprentice was still sitting slumped over where I had left him. I sheathed my sword, then fought to withdraw my axe, cursing under my breath as it became entangled in the branches around me. I finally managed to free the weapon, then slammed my helmet on Grindin’s bald head before I pulled off my mailed gloves and slipped them onto his limp hands. The gloves were much too large for the little man, of course, but they would have to do. I dragged Grindin back the way that I’d come.
“You don’t,” the big Cardian shouted. He was thirty feet away, crouched over as he tried to peer through the branches at me. “But if you make us come in there, you’ll regret it.”
“All right,” I said. “I give up.”
“Throw your weapons out here,” the Cardian demanded. “Then crawl out on your belly. No tricks!”
I slid the axe along the ground, pushing the head out through the boughs before I flung it as far as I could.
“N
ow the sword,” the Cardian ordered.
“I lost it in the woods,” I called back as I maneuvered Grindin onto his belly and thrust him forward through the mud. The crest of my helmet finally broke through the branches into daylight. I stopped pushing, certain the Cardian had seen it. I moved the apprentice’s hands over his head so that the gloves could be seen from outside as well. “Please don’t hurt me,” I added, making sure to put a tremor in my voice.
“Well, well,” I heard the big Cardian say with a chuckle. “The mighty Wolf of Corwick lying down like a beaten dog.” I heard him snort in contempt. “All right then, you pathetic bastard, crawl out of there like a good boy, and maybe I’ll let you lick my boots.”
I paid the man’s words no mind, scurrying over to the north side of the tree while awkwardly drawing my sword as I slithered through the muck. I could see a flash of mail through the branches, then a man’s bearded face as he parted the boughs to peer curiously inside. I lifted Wolf’s Head and stabbed upward without hesitating, taking out the Cardian’s right eye. The soldier squealed and fell back as I burst through the remaining branches between us. I knocked the man to his knees with a vicious backhanded blow, then slapped his sword away as he tried to lift it. I stabbed with Wolf’s Head again, this time in the Cardian’s other eye. I felt the tip of my sword punch through the tough cartilage and soft brain matter there before bursting out the back of the Cardian’s skull with a meaty pop. I let the dead man fall as I jerked my bloodied sword from him, growling with battle rage as I turned east.
The second Cardian stood in the water near the piled debris, parting the spruce branches with his sword. His mouth hung open in shock as I bore down on him, and he barely had time to lift his blade or shield before I reached him. I slashed once, then a second time for good measure, ignoring the spurting blood as the soldier gagged and dropped his weapon, trying to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. I knew it was pointless. The man was already dead. I splashed through the water around the tree, heading for the last Cardian, who was waiting for me and looking surprisingly calm.
The Wolf At War Page 4