The Wolf At War

by Terry Cloutier

Both Jebido’s and Baine’s faces registered their surprise, though luckily, no one was looking at Fitz. He already knew about Rorian, and that fact showed plainly on his features.

  “What makes you think he was here?” I asked, hiding my own surprise.

  “Because I saw him in Halhaven,” Malo said. “The bastard wouldn’t answer any of my questions.”

  “So, naturally, you assumed his being there had something to do with me,” I grunted. “What kind of sense does that make?”

  “The kind where after some prodding with my sword,” Malo said, his eyes hard and cold, “Rorian eventually told me to ask you. That’s all he would say.” The House Agent glared at me. “So, here I am asking.”

  I glanced at Fitz, who just shrugged and looked away. Did I dare tell Malo? The House Agent was unpredictable, and I wasn’t sure how he would react if I told him why Rorian had come here. But he was also like a dog on a bone when he sensed something was afoot. Other than the truth, I didn’t have an answer for him that made any sense, and I could tell by the set look on Malo’s face that he had no intention of leaving until he was satisfied by my explanation.

  “What do you think?” I asked Fitz.

  The young lord shrugged. “You know him better than I do, Hadrack. Will he see things our way?”

  “What are you two talking about?” Malo demanded, his face angry now. “See what your way? Does this have something to do with the codex?”

  “That’s quite a leap,” I said, stalling for time as I thought furiously. Malo was no fool, and he had quickly deduced that the only thing I had in common with Rorian was the codex. I knew he was just guessing, of course, but now that the bone was out there, Malo was going to keep sniffing at it until he found some meat.

  “Is it?” Malo challenged. He looked at Baine and Jebido. “Does anybody else find it strange that the Piths have decided to return home just hours after that bastard Rorian shows up?” The House Agent folded his arms, glowering at me. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s going on, Hadrack.”

  “What if you can’t handle it?” I asked. “What if what I know could bring down the entire House and kingdom around our heads if I tell you? Would you still want to know about it then?”

  Malo suddenly looked uncertain. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

  I slowly withdrew the leather-bound tome from my trousers and held it up. “You were right, Malo. Rorian came here to give me Waldin’s copy of the codex. Lord Boudin hired him to find it.”

  “That bastard again,” Jebido grunted. He scratched at his beard. “But if Lord Boudin is paying him for it, why did he give the codex to you, Hadrack?”

  I glanced at Malo. “Because of what it says inside. It seems even Rorian has a conscience, and he couldn’t bring himself to hand it over to Lord Boudin. He decided that I was the best person to decide what to do with it.”

  “Because it names The Father,” Malo whispered in dismay, his face paler now.

  I shook my head. “No, it does not.”

  Malo blinked in confusion. “Then, I don’t understand. What could be so damning in there to cause a man like Rorian to pass up gold?”

  “Let me ask you something, Malo,” I said instead. I lifted the codex. “If I tell you what is inside, what are your obligations to the House?”

  “I’m not sure I understand the question,” Malo said.

  “What I mean is, as an agent of the House, would you feel you must report whatever you learn to Daughter Gernet, regardless of the potential damage it will bring to everyone involved?”

  Malo took a deep breath. “Hadrack, if the codex does not name The Father, then whatever information it does contain can eventually be dealt with by the House. As long as the Daughters retain control, then I don’t see the problem.”

  “That’s because you’re looking in the wrong direction,” Fitz muttered under his breath.

  “Answer my question, Malo,” I said. “You took an oath when you became a House Agent. Will that oath require you to report on the contents of the codex, regardless of the consequences?”

  Malo removed his helmet and rubbed his scalp vigorously as he thought. Finally, he grunted assent. “It would require that, yes.”

  I sighed. “Then believe me when I tell you nothing good can come of you knowing. For the sake of the House and the kingdom, go back to your men and forget all about this.”

  Malo shook his head. “You know I can’t do that, Hadrack.”

  “What I know is you are a stubborn fool!” I shouted in frustration. I glared at the House Agent. “What will it finally take for you to trust in me? Have I not done enough these past few years to warrant it? Time and time again, I have proven my loyalty to the king and the House, yet always you doubt me.”

  “I trusted in you after Halhaven,” Malo pointed out.

  He was talking about after I had pretended to murder King Tyden, of course, and how he had caught me in the street outside the Grand Holy House. Malo had almost killed me then, but I had convinced him to let me go. I needed to convince him again. “And look how well that worked out for everyone,” I said. “This is the same thing. All I am asking is that you walk away right now. I won’t keep the information in the codex secret forever. Sooner or later, it has to come out. But if you reveal it now, I promise you it can and will destroy everything you stand for. Do you want that on your conscience just because you’re a stubborn bastard?”

  Malo hesitated, looking from one tense face to another. “Do you swear that you will hand over the codex to the House when you feel that the time is right?”

  I put my hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I promise the moment there are no longer any threats to Ganderland that I will give it to you personally, Malo. After that, it will be your burden, not mine. You have my word.”

  “Very well,” Malo said. “But if you are lying to me in any way, Hadrack, there will be no forgiveness for you coming from me.”

  “We’ve been through this already,” I said. “I didn’t lie to you before, and I’m not lying to you now. Someday you will understand why I’m doing this, and I promise you will thank me for it.”

  “Then I will return to Halhaven immediately,” Malo said as he put his helmet back on. “If you have need of me, you know where to find me.”

  Silence filled the tent after Malo left, until finally, Jebido cleared his throat. “You may have gotten rid of Malo, Hadrack, but Baine and I aren’t House Agents. We’re not leaving here until you tell us what is going on.

  I saw Baine nod his agreement, his face set in that determined way of his. I shared a look with Fitz. Jebido was right, of course. After what they had already heard, I needed to tell them the rest of it. I knew I could trust my friends to keep it a secret. I cracked open the ancient tome and began to read. Baine and Jebido reacted like Fitz had at the words inside, and as I had before him, and it was almost an hour later before I finally closed the codex again.

  “You were right not to tell anyone,” Baine was the first to say, his face still white from shock.

  “Definitely,” Jebido agreed. He shook his head in wonder. “How did Einhard take the news?”

  I shrugged. “About as well as you might expect.”

  “What if the Piths tell someone about this?” Baine asked.

  “Who would they tell?” Fitz responded. “They’re not likely to talk to any Ganders on the way home, and even if they do, who is going to believe such a wild tale coming from heathens?”

  “Good point,” Baine muttered.

  “So, what do we do now?” Fitz asked me.

  “That part is easy,” I replied. “We go north, find Pernissy and Lord Boudin, and crush the bastards once and for all.”

  24: The March North

  It took almost three weeks to march the remainder of my army northward. We had lost men against the Piths—many of them. But despite that, we were still a force to be reckoned with, one which was now reasonably battle-hardened and in good spirits. We h
ad seen no sign of either King Tyden’s army nor Pernissy’s as we progressed, and now that we were less than twenty miles from Gandertown, it appeared more and more likely that the city was not under siege as I had feared. I would have to wait a little while longer for my scouts to return from Gandertown, though, before I would have definite confirmation of that fact. Had the king managed to intercept Pernissy at Silver Valley to the west like we’d discussed? I could only hope that was the case, though it would mean a long march for us to get there if it was.

  I led my army along a dirt road that cut through a thick woodland and then out onto a grassy plain. Blankets of thick clouds had filled the sky to begin the day, but now they were slowly breaking up, allowing the full strength of the sun to beat down on my marching soldiers. A series of rounded hills choked with purple lavender rose in the distance, with the road we traveled curving around them. That road would either lead us north to Gandertown or westward toward the valley, depending on the news my scouts would be bringing with them.

  I kicked Angry into a canter as Jebido joined me, the two of us climbing to the top of the closest hill to get a better view. I paused to look back the way that we had come. My forces marched five abreast along the road below me before disappearing back into the woods more than a mile away. The wide-open grasslands here would make a good place to halt and wait until we got word where the king was.

  “Hadrack,” Jebido grunted. He pointed to a cloud of dust rising along the road to the west. “Looks like riders coming this way.”

  I shielded my eyes from the sun, waiting long minutes until the mounted men drew closer before I was sure which banner they flew. Then I urged Angry down the slope as Jebido followed. We reached the road, waiting to one side of it as the riders approached. I counted twenty soldiers on horseback, every one of them grim-faced as they surrounded a carriage pulled by a set of sweat-streaked black horses. Many of the soldiers were wounded in some way, and they slowed suspiciously when they saw us. I lifted a hand in greeting as they came to a dusty halt thirty feet away. A man of about forty guided his horse toward me. His hair was grey and cropped close to his scalp, and he was dressed in blood-stained mail. The man’s right arm hung limply in a sling and I realized that I knew him.

  “Lord Hamit, is it not?” I said. I had met him briefly at the king’s coronation, and I knew that he was a close confidant of Tyden’s.

  “Lord Hadrack?” Lord Hamit said in surprise, his eyebrows rising as he recognized me. “I thought you were supposed to be defending the south from the Piths?”

  “I was,” I said with a curt nod. “They agreed to a peace settlement and have returned to their homeland.” I gestured to the hills. “I have thirteen thousand men with me in the fields yonder.”

  Lord Hamit sagged with relief in his saddle. “Well, thank The Mother for that.”

  I studied the wounded men behind him critically. “What happened?”

  Lord Hamit’s face clouded. “We met the Cardian army six days ago near Mount Taril,” he said. He lowered his eyes. “We were outnumbered and they held the high ground. I advised King Tyden to withdraw, but he chose to attack their position anyway.”

  I frowned. Mount Taril was many miles west of the Silver Valley where Tyden had intended to trap Pernissy. I flicked my gaze to the carriage and the eagle banners flying there. “Is the king inside?” I asked, feeling suddenly anxious. “Is he hurt?”

  Lord Hamit shook his head. “No, the king is fine. It’s his advisor, Clamon Krael. We’re taking him back to Gandertown.” The lord shrugged. “Not that it will do him much good. It’s doubtful the man will live much longer, by the looks of things.”

  “Where is the king now?” I asked.

  “Encamped at the mouth of the Silver Valley,” Lord Hamit explained. “He plans on holding the Cardians there while I gather more conscripts.”

  “He was supposed to hold the Silver Valley all along,” I said, my voice thick with bitterness. “Not go after Pernissy like that.”

  Lord Hamit nodded his agreement. “That was his original intent, Lord Hadrack. But the Cardians refused to enter the valley and the king finally became impatient.” He shook his head. “We tried to get to the bastards, but we had to cross a stream and climb a hill to reach them, and with all the rains lately, we became bogged down in the mire along the banks.”

  “And his archers decimated your men while you crossed,” I said, secretly cursing Tyden for being such a reckless fool.

  “Yes,” Lord Hamit said. He grimaced, his face turning angry now. “We pushed through the muck anyway and made our way up the hill. The fighting was fierce, but it seemed like we were making headway and that we were going to triumph. Tyden brought up our archers to drive the Cardians from the ridge, but then a second force hiding in some woodlands swept down on us from the north.” He shrugged, looking like a beaten man. “You know as well as I do what happens to archers caught in the open by horsemen.”

  I nodded. I did know. “So, Pernissy held back his reserves to draw you in,” I said with grudging respect.

  “Yes,” the older man said. “But they weren’t Cardians. They belonged to the lords Hendry and Ralice.” Lord Hamit spat on the road with distaste. “Those bastards have hated the king ever since he confiscated some of their lands after the Pair War. I guess they saw this as a chance to get even with him.”

  I grunted, not in the least bit surprised. Tyden had made many enemies during the civil war, and it stood to reason that some of them might have joined with Pernissy. I pictured the former Lord of Corwick laughing at the king’s humiliating defeat. The bastard probably thought he had already won the fight, but he didn’t know about me yet. I was looking forward to reuniting with him and turning that arrogant laughter into screams of agony. The trick would be getting my men to that valley in time to do it.

  Lord Hamit and I talked for a few minutes more, and then he continued toward Gandertown with the dying advisor.

  “If the Cardians get past the king with that many men, we are going to be in trouble,” Jebido said, riding beside me on my right as I led my army west. Wiflem, Baine, and Fitz rode to my left, with the steady clump of thousands of boots crunching along behind us.

  I nodded my agreement. Tyden had brought an army of twenty thousand men to face Pernissy, but he had lost more than half of them in his foolish attack. If Lord Hamit was correct, then the Cardians and their Gander allies numbered close to forty thousand soldiers. I had thirteen thousand, including Malo and his fellow House Agents, who I had brought along with me. Would they be enough coupled with the king’s men? Cardians were not the fighters Piths were, of course, but defeating an army of that size would be no easy task regardless of their skill, especially if the king had failed to contain them in the valley.

  I glanced behind me at the men filling the road, then at Wiflem. “How long before we get to Silver Valley at this speed?”

  Wiflem looked up at the sky as he thought. “I would guess we’re moving at a little less than three miles per hour. The valley is roughly eighty miles from here, and we can make fifteen miles per day, perhaps twenty or twenty-five if we take shorter breaks and extend the march.”

  “That depends a lot on the terrain and weather, though,” Jebido pointed out.

  Wiflem bowed his head in acknowledgment. “That’s true.”

  “So, assuming all goes well, then we are looking at four days at best,” I said, not happy in the least.

  “Yes, my lord,” Wiflem said. “That sounds right.”

  I cursed. “Tyden could be long dead by then.”

  “We could send the cavalry ahead,” Baine suggested. “If nothing else, it would help shore up the king’s defenses until the rest of the troops arrive.”

  I nodded, having already considered that option. The problem was Tyden had lost most of his archers during the battle and a good portion of his infantry as well. His remaining force consisted mainly of mounted men-at-arms now, perhaps as many as seven thousand. But, without the support
of archers, that mounted force would be vulnerable to the Cardian pikemen that I knew Pernissy would be sure to throw against them. Adding my men-at-arms would help, of course, but not enough to chance risking them if Pernissy had as many foot soldiers as Lord Hamit had told me. I also wasn’t keen on separating my forces, which would leave me just as vulnerable as it had Einhard. I didn’t have siege engines along like the Piths had, but I did have a long baggage train filled with food, grain, fodder, and water that I couldn’t chance risking. An army lives and breathes on its supplies. Take them away and that army quickly withers and dies.

  “Very well,” I said, coming to a decision. “We increase the pace to four miles per hour and shorten the breaks from ten minutes to five every hour.” I glanced around. “That should save us a day.”

  “But what do we look like when we get there?” Jebido muttered.

  “Like an army of tired but angry Ganders thirsty for blood,” Fitz said with a chuckle. He shook his head and gestured over his shoulder with a thumb. “I wouldn’t want to be the Cardians when these boys arrive.”

  The rest of that day remained clear and bright, though the heat intensified just before midday. There was no breeze to speak of, either, yet my men marched along in surprisingly high spirits, laughing and joking with each other as drummers pounded out the increased walking beat. Every hour we would take a five-minute break, with hundreds of boys from the baggage train running down the lines of sitting men doling out rations of tepid water. We made twenty-eight miles that first day, and I couldn’t have been prouder of my men, positive now that The Mother was watching over us and all would be well.

  Things changed for the worst on the second day, however, as the oppressive heat somehow increased even more. Men who had laughed and joked yesterday now stared at their feet in dismal silence, trudging to the unrelenting beat of the drums. Several soldiers had already been lost to the unforgiving sun, with no sign that the heat planned on showing us mercy anytime soon. Perhaps The Mother wasn’t watching over us after all, I thought bitterly as I sat Angry along the road and studied my men. I called out encouragement through cracked lips to them on occasion, though few if any of the weary soldiers bothered to look up or even acknowledge my words. A tall, thin man suddenly fell in front of me, collapsing without warning to the dusty road as exhausted soldiers stepped over or around him. I jumped off Angry and made my way forward to help, but it quickly became apparent that he was dead. I instructed two red-faced men to drag the body to the side of the road as indifferent soldiers continued onward with barely a glance at the corpse as they passed.