The Wolf At War

by Terry Cloutier

  I blinked in surprise. “Are you saying that Esmira and Tyden were related? That she was a royal?”

  Daughter Gernet shook her head. “The Raybolds weren’t royalty back then, just a very powerful family with vast lands situated between Ganderland and the Flins. Neither king wanted to anger the Raybolds, which gave them unprecedented power to do whatever they wanted.”

  “But you said the Raybolds allied themselves with the Flins, not Ganderland.”

  “At first,” Daughter Gernet agreed. “But things changed when Jorquin Raybold became head of the family. Jorquin was a greedy, self-centered man who was never satisfied with whatever power and riches he already had. He always wanted more. Jorquin staged a coup in Ganderland and seized the throne, then turned his eyes toward the Kingdom of the Flins. But though he coveted the southern lands, the man still had a modicum of honor left in him, I guess, and it was that honor that kept him from attacking the Flins in force.”

  “Because of Esmira and Coltin Corwick’s union,” I said, understanding now.

  “Yes,” Daughter Gernet said. “Many years went by, and though the odd disagreement arose between the two kingdoms, they rarely amounted to much. For always, there was Esmira and Coltin to point to as a reason for peace.” Daughter Gernet shook her head sadly. “Their lives were miserable, Hadrack. Those two people hated each other, but they both knew they were all that was standing between an all-out war, and, for that reason, they somehow managed to tolerate each other.”

  “But war came eventually,” I pointed out.

  “Indeed it did,” Daughter Gernet agreed. “Esmira fell ill, and though her condition was said to have been treatable, Coltin had had enough. He decided to leave her fate and that of the kingdoms in the hands of the First Pair.”

  “She died,” I said, knowing it could have gone no other way.

  “She did,” the priestess confirmed. “Jorquin learned of her death, and they say the news struck him hard, though I have my doubts about that. He hadn’t seen his half-sister in many years, so I can’t imagine he was that heartbroken over it.”

  “But grief can be a convenient tool if you are conniving enough to use it,” I said.

  Daughter Gernet smiled. “You are a smart one, aren’t you, Hadrack. Jorquin learned that Coltin did nothing to help his sister, and he proclaimed the alliance between the kingdoms void because of that failure to act. Jorquin vowed revenge for his sister’s death and that he would do everything within his power to rid the world of every last Corwick. Including his own nephew, who he said had conspired with his father to murder Esmira.”

  “Was that part true?” I asked.

  Daughter Gernet shrugged. “Does it matter? King Jorquin used the entire affair as an excuse to invade the Flin kingdom, and he was as good as his word. He hunted down every living Corwick and had them executed.”

  “All except my father,” I whispered.

  “All except your father,” Daughter Gernet agreed, looking tired and drawn now. She put her hand on my arm. “And now you know everything, child.”

  19: Friendship or War?

  I was a Corwick, just like my father had been before me. Nothing had prepared me for such an unexpected revelation. The knowledge that my father had been so much more than he seemed was both deeply gratifying and deeply saddening at the same time. I understood the reason now why he never told anyone of his heritage, afraid for the lives of his family should the Raybolds learn he lived. But even so, I wish that he had shared that part of his life with me. How difficult it must have been for him, carrying the burden of being a bastard child to a mighty lord on his shoulders for all those years. I can’t imagine what must have been going through his head each time he was summoned to Corwick Castle with the other village elders, knowing that if not for a cruel and unforgiving woman, he would have had a much better life.

  Daughter Gernet left for Halhaven the morning after the feast, but I managed to pull her aside before she departed. I still had one last question that needed answering.

  “How did my father hurt his leg?” I wanted to know.

  Daughter Gernet seemed more restrained in the light of day, but with a little prodding from me, the answer came. “Alwin was sixteen and already big and strong, so he was recruited to be a soldier.”

  “Inside the castle?” I asked, surprised that Lord Corwick would take that chance.

  Daughter Gernet snorted. “Of course not. Coltin was no fool. He stationed Alwin at Knoxly Manor, where the boy could be properly trained away from prying eyes.”

  “Oh, I see,” I said, nodding. That made sense. “And his leg?”

  “Coltin was feuding with the Lord of Welis over some land or some such silly thing. I can’t remember what it was exactly.”

  “Lord of Welis?” I grunted, realizing that would probably have been Fitz’s grandfather.

  “Indeed,” the priestess said. “The two hated each other. Alwin was around nineteen or twenty years old, I think, when that hatred finally boiled over into armed conflict. During the skirmish, Coltin became entangled in his horse’s stirrups, and if not for Alwin, he would probably have died.”

  “My father saved him,” I said, knowing that I was right as I pictured the desperate scene.

  “He did,” Daughter Gernet confirmed. “Your father leaped from his own horse onto Coltin’s and cut away the strap, freeing him, but the horse panicked and reared backward and fell, crushing your father’s leg beneath it.”

  I bowed my head, remembering the constant look of pain on my father’s face as he dragged his useless leg along. I had always wondered how it had happened, and now I knew.

  “Your father could only show so much gratitude to Alwin because of the threat of the Raybolds,” Daughter Gernet said. “He did what he could for the ruined leg, but the boy’s exploits hadn’t gone unnoticed. Coltin had no choice but to make some form of public gesture of thanks for what Alwin had done for him.”

  “The axe,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” the priestess agreed. “After Alwin had recovered as much as he ever would, Coltin chose a day when Esmira was under the weather to present a special axe to him. The woman didn’t spend much time involving herself with castle business, anyway, but it was still better to be cautious. Coltin didn’t know what to do with the boy after that. But he couldn’t stand the thought of sending him away, so he built him a house and gave him land to work in the village of Corwick. He knew Alwin could live there the rest of his life and never be noticed by Esmira.”

  “And that’s where he met my mother.”

  “Yes, that is where he met the love of his life.” I could see something in the priestess’s eyes when she said that, a quick flicker before it was gone. Daughter Gernet put her hand on my shoulder. “Do not feel sorry for your father, Hadrack. He loved your mother deeply and told me more than once that he would gladly do it all again, including losing the use of his leg if it meant he could be with her.” I felt tears forming in my eyes when she said that, and I nodded, unable to speak as Daughter Gernet climbed into the wagon. “Do not grieve for them, child,” the priestess said to me kindly. “They are together now with The Mother, and that knowledge should be a source of joy for you, not sadness.”

  Daughter Gernet had left then, along with her priestesses, apprentices, and the House Agents guarding them, though Malo decided to stay and help with the offensive against the Piths. I wasn’t keen on having the House Agent’s dour personality around, but could not say no to a man as skilled as he was with a sword.

  That had been over three weeks ago, and now, as I sat Angry in the western fields and surveyed my army of close to twelve thousand men on the march, the time for war had come. The Piths had broken camp over a week ago, heading northwest, with an army that had grown to over ten thousand warriors. Strange men in armor had been sighted within the Pith encampment two weeks before the departure. The arrival of those soldiers had coincided with furious activity beginning within the trees near Gasterny. Those men, it turned ou
t, were Afrenian mercenaries. The Afrenians did two things very well, I was told—weave silk, and build siege engines.

  The Piths building siege engines had caught me off-guard, I have to admit, but in retrospect, I probably should have seen it coming. Many of the towns Einhard would need to conquer were protected by thick walls and well defended. He couldn’t afford to leave those towns undefeated as he forged further into Ganderland, as it would leave his rear vulnerable to attack. So, his only recourse was to build the engines and take each of the towns one by one. Capturing those towns would not only eliminate any potential threats to his rear, but also work as a network of supply lines, helping to keep his army well-stocked with grain, weapons, and food. Most armies on the march depended on foraging to fill their bellies, but a savvy enemy could just burn everything in their path, leaving nothing for the invaders to scavenge. Men don’t fight well on empty stomachs. Starving Einhard once he got deeper into Ganderland had been my initial plan, but now I knew it wouldn’t work. I didn’t have the time or the men to retake those towns or try to break his supply chain.

  The Piths under Einhard were evolving, I realized bitterly, knowing that I’d probably had a hand in that to some degree. Einhard and I had talked of war and strategies many times while in Gasterny together, and it had been me who had repeated to him what Jebido had told me about siege engines and the destructive force that they could wield against a fortified town. Einhard had scoffed at the idea back then, but he was older and wiser now and was determined to win this war no matter what. If siege engines built by unscrupulous men from another land could hand him that win, then I knew he would gladly shunt aside the old ways of his people to do it.

  My scouts reported that the Piths reached the small town of Kamlee first, where Einhard’s demands for immediate surrender were rejected. Kamlee fell quickly, with everyone inside its walls being slaughtered as an example to any others who might choose to resist the Piths. I grieved for the dead of Kamlee, but as Tyden had told me, men who lead need to make choices—tough choices. I could not afford to chase after a highly mobile force like Einhard commanded with my slower army. The men we had gathered were all that stood between the Piths and the north, so I needed to be smart and not let emotion cloud my judgment. I would meet Einhard in a place of my choosing, not his. One that I hoped would give us an advantage over his more experienced warriors.

  After Kamlee fell in such horrific fashion, towns and castles began to submit one by one as Einhard kept his force heading steadily northwest. It quickly became apparent that my old friend was aiming straight for Halhaven, the seat of power in Southern Ganderland. It was there, on the grassy plains called Land’s Edge ten miles west of Halhaven, that I planned on destroying him.

  Einhard’s current route would lead him to the mining town of Lorimire next, then after that through the lands of Lord Vestry before he reached Halhaven. I grimaced when I thought of the timid lord, knowing he would soon live to regret deciding to return home. Hopefully, the Piths would be delayed long enough as they dealt with him for me to get my troops into position.

  “So, what do you think?” I asked Jebido as our army slowly trudged past us. “You didn’t say much earlier.”

  “It’s as good a place as you are likely to find,” Jebido said noncommittedly.

  I pictured the plains surrounded by foothills where I planned to meet Einhard. The White Rock dissected Land’s Edge as though someone had taken a finger and dragged it through the soil in an almost perfect line, with only two fords of solid rock within half a mile of each other for many miles in either direction. I knew if the Piths were allowed to cross that river with their siege engines, then it would be a short march for them to the gates of the city. Einhard would have a choice when his scouts saw us waiting for him on the opposite bank. He could change directions and follow the river until he found another suitable place to cross, or he could march straight ahead and try to wipe my forces out.

  Einhard was an intelligent man and a charismatic leader, but he was also a Pith, with a Piths’ natural arrogance, and I knew he wouldn’t want to wait. Going north or south along the river looking for another ford or bridge would take him many days out of his way, with no guarantees that we wouldn’t shift our forces to meet him, putting him in the same situation. I was the only real threat left to his total victory in the south, and if he could defeat me quickly, then Southern Ganderland would be his for the taking. No, my old friend would not turn, even if it was the sounder strategy. Einhard’s natural competitiveness and disdain for most Ganders meant he would forge ahead, eager to match shield against shield and sword against sword with us. I planned on having a few surprises in store for him when he did.

  I had told no one about my conversation with Daughter Gernet, not even Baine and Jebido, my two closest friends. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t said anything, but the priestess’s revelation about my father had profoundly affected me. Gone now was the self-doubt and insecurity that had been plaguing me these past months. Those feelings had been replaced by a quiet confidence and a better understanding of my place in the world. It wasn’t bravado or arrogance that I was feeling, but rather a deep-seated sense of belonging. I knew the discovery that I was a Corwick hadn’t changed who I was as a person, but it had finally put to rest my need to question every one of my decisions, wondering what an actual lord would have done.

  The days of insecurity were gone for me and, from that moment forward, I have never doubted myself ever again. Though, I am saddened to say I would still make mistakes in the future that would end up costing many good people their lives.

  “You think my choice of battleground is a bad one?” I asked Jebido.

  “It’s a fine spot,” Jebido said. “As long as Einhard does what you want.”

  I frowned. “You think he’ll try to go around us?”

  Jebido shrugged as he kicked his horse forward. “I know I would. But I’m not really a Pith, now am I?”

  We arrived at our destination six days later, well ahead of Einhard’s forces, whose siege and baggage trains had become bogged down in muddy roads after three solid days of rain. It was a blessing from The Mother, we all agreed, as the weather had given us even more time to prepare than I had expected. Conscripts bolstered my army from Halhaven and the surrounding countryside, and we now numbered sixteen thousand men. I had seven thousand infantry, four thousand men-at-arms on horseback, and five thousand archers. It was a formidable force, one that even Piths might raise an eyebrow at, which troubled me. I wanted the Piths overconfident, believing us to be weak.

  I decided to post a thousand men-at-arms several miles to the north along the river, and a further thousand to the south, splitting the remaining two thousand and sending half of them to wait out of sight to my rear as a reserve force. As confident as I was that Einhard wouldn’t try to find another route, I respected Jebido’s experience and instincts on the matter. Sending those men away would not only protect my flanks and rear, but hopefully fool Einhard into thinking that I had a much weaker force than I did.

  I had sought out Gerdy soon after returning to Corwick and had plucked him from the ranks of the levy, tasking him and those having a similar talent as he with making as many longbows as possible. I knew a man with Gerdy’s skills would just be wasted if we threw him into a shield wall to die. There were a wealth of strong, eager young men in my army to choose from now, and my force of Wolf’s Teeth boys quickly swelled to well over five hundred.

  Almost a quarter of the bowstaves Gerdy and his fellow bowyers made were of undried wood out of necessity, however. The little man had explained to me about wood memory, which he warned would only allow me limited usage from the green bows. With each shot, the bowstave would lose its ability to fully flex back to its original position, with many of them forming an elbow, where eventually a breakage would occur. At best, he’d said, I could expect four to five volleys with the green bows before they became unusable. Of course, I would have preferred more, but hopefully, those v
olleys would suffice and have the effect I needed when the moment came.

  That moment arrived three days later, when our scouts reported seeing the vanguard of the Pith army approaching in the early dawn. The day had begun cloudy and cool, with a light breeze blowing from the southwest.

  “Good weather for it,” Jebido grunted as we stepped out from my command tent together. “Nothing drains a man more than fighting in armor under a hot sun.”

  I nodded my agreement as horns sounded, signaling the men to take up their positions. The forces directly under my command were assembling in front of the larger ford, consisting of three thousand infantry armed with pikes and shields, five hundred mounted men-at-arms with lances, and twenty-five hundred archers. The infantry were broken up into units of roughly two hundred men, each one led by a lord or experienced soldier who understood my battle plans intimately. One of the biggest failures we’d had at Gasterny was the lack of training and communication between our forces. That lack had ultimately led to our rout, which might have been avoided if we’d had a better-defined chain of leadership for the common soldier to follow. I was determined that this time there would be no confusion. Now that capable men commanded those smaller units, I could move them quickly and efficiently wherever I needed as the battle wore on.

  I had stationed an equal force of men at the smaller, northern ford under the command of Wiflem, with one thousand more infantry waiting in between the two fords as additional reserves. Two thousand archers were spaced out along the riverbank in front of the reserve infantry, including my Wolf’s Teeth. Baine and Tyris were each in command of a thousand of those archers, who would have an unimpeded view of the fords to the north and the south. The Piths would be well within the range of the longbows before they even reached the water, with the smaller bows coming into play afterward once the mounted warriors entered the river.