The Wolf At War

by Terry Cloutier

  “That won’t be the last one to drop,” Fitz said with a sigh as I returned to Angry and swung myself onto his back. Beside him, Jebido and Baine nodded their agreement.

  “I expect not,” I said, trying not to sound as dispirited as I felt.

  “How far do you think we’ve come today?” Baine asked. He removed his helmet and wiped sweat from his brow.

  I shielded my eyes as I looked up at the sun. It was already past midday, I realized with dismay. “Maybe eight miles,” I said, tasting the bitterness in my voice. “Maybe less.” I glanced toward a vast forest standing to the north that seemed to shimmer and dance in the distance from the heat. “We’re falling way behind.” I looked at my friends. “Should I increase the beat, do you think?”

  “I don’t think it matters how fast those drummers bang their drums, Hadrack,” Jebido said. “I’m a lot older than any of you, and I don’t recall it ever being this hot. Those poor bastards can only move so fast in this. If you try to increase the pace now, we might not make it to Silver Valley at all.”

  I cursed, knowing that he was right as I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the heat, fatigue, and buzzing insects. I had sent scouts on fast horses to the valley, of course, but I didn’t know when I might be hearing back from them about what the situation was there. I felt like a blind man trying to feel his way through an unfamiliar room. Where was Pernissy? What had happened to Tyden? Was he already lying in a field somewhere, rotting as scavengers feasted on his flesh? It was maddening beyond belief to not know what was happening.

  I opened my eyes just in time to see Tyris riding past us as he led five hundred of my Wolf’s Teeth. The tall archer bowed his head to us, his eyes shaded by his leather helmet as his horse plodded onward, while the men behind him on foot labored to keep the pace.

  “All right,” I said, coming to a decision after seeing the archers. I turned to Baine. “Go get Tyris and tell him I want to see him.” My friend rode off immediately as I glanced at Jebido. “I want you to take over command of the army here, Jebido. I’ll take three thousand men on horseback and forge ahead. Maybe we can reach the king in time.”

  “You wished to see me, my lord?” Tyris said as he and Baine approached.

  I nodded. “How many of your men can ride?”

  Tyris blinked in surprise. “Why, I don’t know, my lord. I never asked them.”

  “Then I guess we are about to find out,” I grunted. I glanced at Jebido and Baine. “I need horses for the Wolf’s Teeth. Packhorses, mules, whatever you can find with four legs and a heartbeat.”

  “But what about the supplies they’re carrying?” Jebido asked.

  “Do whatever you can,” I said. “You can distribute the packs among the men if you have to. Just get me those mounts. We leave in an hour.”

  Just over an hour later, we set out with almost three thousand men-at-arms, followed by the Wolf’s Teeth. Jebido and Baine had confiscated every animal possible, including mules, aged horses, and rickety wagons pulled by oxen. Some of those animals and wagons belonged to the many camp followers that always trailed an army like vultures, waiting to rob the corpses of the fallen combatants. Those camp followers had not been pleased with Baine’s and Jebido’s demands. But given a choice between cold steel and giving up their animals and possessions, the decision had ultimately proved to be an easy one for them to make.

  Many of the Wolf’s Teeth were riding for the first time in their lives, though almost half their number were relegated to the wagons, where they could at least sit in relative comfort. Some of the archers riding mules and the older horses quickly fell behind my main force, even farther than the wagons, but I pressed onward anyway, not willing to wait for the stragglers. Those men would just have to do the best they could to keep up.

  We made thirty miles that day, riding well into the night, with the coolness of the evening a welcome relief from the heat. We finally halted to pitch camp in a wide hollow, and the next day my force was on the move again well before dawn. A persistent drizzle began to fall at daybreak, leaving men wet, cold, and miserable, and no doubt wishing for a return to the heat from the day before. That persistent drizzle turned into sheeting rain by midday, turning the road beneath our horses’ hooves into a river of muck and ooze that clung stubbornly to everything it touched. I wondered what effect the weather was having on Jebido and the main body of my army coming behind us, guessing that things were probably not going well for my friend.

  Finally, as dusk was approaching, the rain began to ease up, then it ended abruptly just as we came to a series of rock-strewn hills. We followed a winding canyon through those hills, with the rocky floor almost ankle-deep in water until we found ourselves breaking out onto a barren plateau. A well-worn trail led down to a lush valley ringed by mountains, with the tall, white-capped peak of Mount Halas dominating everything else below it. We had reached Silver Valley.

  “Hadrack,” Baine said, pointing west across the valley floor.

  Flickering campfires were burning briskly almost a mile away where two of the mountains pinched together, helping to illuminate the vague outlines of hundreds of shadowy tents. I grinned at my friend as I urged Angry down the steep trail. We had found the king. The incline proved surprisingly treacherous, slick, and unstable from all the rain, and once I reached the valley floor, I waited for Baine, Wiflem, and Fitz to join me.

  “Wait here with the men until I send for you,” I told Wiflem. I was afraid that with such a large, unexpected force like ours bearing down on their camp, that the king’s men might not realize who we were and think they were under attack. “Fitz,” I said to the young lord. “Come with me.”

  Fitz and I rode to within a hundred yards of the king’s camp before a sentry challenged us.

  “Who rides there?” the man called out.

  It was dark now, and I could see little of him other than the brief wink of his mail and the glint of the bare sword he held. “Lord Hadrack and Lord Fitzery to see the king,” I said.

  The sentry spat on the ground as he took several steps closer, peering up at us. “I have it on good authority that Lord Hadrack is in the south fighting the Piths,” he said suspiciously.

  “Listen, you dim-witted fellow,” Fitz said in annoyance. “We have just marched for three solid weeks to get here. If my ass wasn’t being baked by the sun or rubbed raw by my saddle, it was developing rot from all the damn rain that’s fallen. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I need a drink. So, unless you want me to get down off this horse and unleash my frustrations on you, I strongly recommend that you let us pass.”

  The sentry hesitated, then he sheathed his sword and gestured behind him. “Of course, my lord. Please forgive me. These are trying times.”

  “Indeed they are,” Fitz said with a sniff as he and I rode into King Tyden’s camp.

  Several boys dressed in filthy grooms’ clothes ran to take our horses while a tall, grey-haired soldier made his way toward us. Men sat in silence around campfires, studying us wordlessly, with an almost overwhelming mood of dejection emanating outward from them.

  “Lord Hadrack,” I said, introducing myself to the grey-haired man. I indicated Fitz. “This is Lord Fitzery.”

  “Please tell me you have men with you, lords,” the man said, looking weary and anxious at the same time.

  “I have,” I said. “An entire army is just days away. But for now, I’ve brought three thousand men-at-arms and five hundred archers.”

  “Then perhaps we are saved after all,” the man said, sudden hope rising in his eyes.

  “And who might you be?” Fitz asked.

  “Forgive my manners, lords,” the man said, coloring. “My name is Fignam Ree. I am in command here.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What of the king?”

  Fignam’s face clouded. “He has fallen ill, lord, and has delegated responsibility to me until he recovers.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” I asked, my heart racing as we headed toward a large tent.

&n
bsp; “We fought the Cardians days ago,” Fignam explained. “During the battle, the king took a wound to his leg. It seemed like nothing to worry about at first, but then it began to fester yesterday. Now a fever has taken hold. We have done what we can for him, but we have no healers here.”

  “Where are the king’s physicians?” I asked, knowing no king went on a campaign without at least two of them by his side.

  “One is dead, lord,” Fignam announced with a shrug. “Killed yesterday morning when the Cardians attacked our position here. The other went back to Gandertown three days ago with Advisor Krael, who was grievously injured.”

  I cursed, realizing the physician had been in the wagon Lord Hamit was protecting. “Is there no one else here with medical knowledge?” I asked as we paused at the entrance to the king’s tent.

  Fignam shook his head as he pulled aside the tent flap and we stepped inside. “No, lord. None left alive, anyway.”

  The tent was lit by several lanterns hanging from pole rafters, and the king lay swathed in furs on a makeshift bed of straw and grass. His eyes were closed, and a boy knelt on the floor beside him, using a wet cloth to dab at the sheen of sweat on Tyden’s face.

  “My lord,” the boy said, jumping to his feet in surprise when he saw me. I recognized him immediately. It was Kacy, the half-wit cook’s helper who had been with us at Gasterny.

  “How is he?” I grunted at the boy as I knelt by the bed. I felt the king’s forehead. Despite the cold cloth Kacy had been using, the king’s flesh still burned against my palm.

  “I think sick, lord,” Kacy said, looking at the ground as he shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Yes,” I grunted. “I think you are right.” I pushed aside the furs, wrinkling my nose at the sudden smell of rot. Tyden was dressed in a long white tunic and I pulled it up, grimacing. The king’s right leg just below the knee was swathed in bloody bandages. I carefully unwound them to reveal a long gash running along the inside of his leg. Green and yellow pus mixed with watery pink blood oozed from the wound. I glanced over my shoulder. “Fitz, go back to the hills and find Malo. Tell him what’s happened and that we need Goldenseal right away.”

  “What’s Goldenseal?” Fitz asked.

  “Something that will hopefully save me from having to cut off our king’s leg,” I said in irritation. “Now go!”

  Fitz blanched, then spun on his heels and dashed out of the tent.

  “You no cut leg off, lord,” Kacy said as giant tears started to roll down his cheeks. “Please.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Fignam asked, looking worried now. “Won’t the fever just pass on its own?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But if it doesn’t, I would rather have a one-legged king than a dead one.”

  “Hadrack?”

  I looked up to see Tyden’s eyes were open. He was staring at me, his forehead furrowed. “Is that really you? Am I dreaming?”

  I moved closer and took his hand in mine. “You’re not dreaming, Highness,” I said gently. “It’s me, and I’ve brought an army from the south along with me.”

  Tyden coughed, trying to sit up. I helped him, waiting as more coughs wracked his body. I glanced at Kacy. “Water?” The boy hurried to hand me a waterskin and I placed the tip to the king’s lips. “Easy there,” I admonished as Tyden took in great gulps, most of it splashing down his chin. “Take it slow.”

  Finally, Tyden nodded that it was enough. “The Piths?” he gasped. “What happened?”

  “They have returned to their homeland, Highness,” I said, adding no other details than that.

  Tyden lay back then, sighing as he clutched at my hand. “I imagine I have you to thank somehow for that miracle, Lord Hadrack.”

  “Not just me,” I said with a tired grin. “All of your men. They’re the ones who deserve your praise the most, Highness.”

  “Modest as usual,” Tyden said with a weak chuckle. He shook his head. “You are forever my protector, aren’t you?”

  “I do what I can, Highness,” I said. I looked up as Malo arrived with Fitz. The House Agent took in the situation at a glance as he motioned me aside. “I will return shortly, Highness,” I told the king. “I want to get my men settled. Malo will make you well again, I promise.”

  “Lord Hadrack,” Tyden called out as Fitz and I turned to go. I paused. “Pernissy will have had enough of this playing around by now. He is going to be coming in the morning with everything he has.” I glanced at Fignam, who nodded his agreement. The king pointed weakly at me. “You will take command here. Crush the bastard for me, Lord Hadrack. Do you hear me? I want my cousin’s head on a pike. Will you do that for me?”

  I smiled. “With pleasure, Highness,” I said. “With pleasure.”

  25: The Battle of Silver Valley

  The next morning brought with it a return to the heat the moment the sun broke over the hills in the east. I had gotten very little sleep the previous night, spending much of it talking with Tyden, who was barely lucid at times, while Malo cleaned and then packed his wound with Goldenseal. The House Agent was more reserved than normal, which was saying a lot. I knew he was distracted with thoughts of the codex and what it might reveal once we had finally dealt with Pernissy. To his credit, though, Malo never once broached the subject to me, even when we were alone together.

  I could feel the ancient tome with its startling secret pressing into the small of my back with every move that I made. I had tied it snugly against my skin with strips of cloth, afraid to let it out of my sight. Jebido, Baine, and Fitz were all made aware of the codex’s location, and if I fell in battle, the burden of what lay inside its pages would then fall to one of them.

  I had managed to deflect Tyden’s questions aside about why the Piths had returned home, citing my friendship with Einhard as the main reason. Malo had looked up sharply at that, but he had wisely remained silent. I could tell the king wasn’t fully satisfied with my answer, either, but in the end, he had let it go. I think his fever had a lot to do with that. The Goldenseal mixture helped lessen that fever after several hours, though the king’s persistent cough continued. Once I was confident that Tyden could be moved safely, I sent him in a wagon back to Gandertown with Malo and three other House Agents to watch over him. The king’s life now lay in Malo’s hands, just as once Jebido’s and Baine’s had after the fall of Gasterny. I could only hope that this time things would turn out just as successfully as they had the last.

  I had spent the rest of the night after Tyden’s departure getting briefed by Fignam about the strength of his men. I was delighted to learn that Putt and the soldiers that I’d sent with him to escort the king to Gandertown weeks ago were all in camp and were in reasonably good health. Putt had suffered an injury to his sword arm during the failed attack on Pernissy, but he insisted it was nothing that would keep him from standing in a shield wall. Tyden had erred in making that attack, but at least the king had chosen an ideal spot to make his final stand. I only wish he had stuck with it the first time and had never left.

  Silver Valley was almost thirty miles long and a mile across at its widest point, curving in a wide arc to the south before sweeping east. It then narrowed down to a quarter-mile where rocky outcrops from both Mount Hajal and Mount Lespin jutted toward each other like outstretched hands, creating a natural bottleneck. That is where King Tyden had placed his men, and it was there that I was determined to be rid of Pernissy Raybold once and for all.

  The Cardians had thrown themselves at the king’s lines several times the previous day. Fignam assured me neither of the attacks had been serious though. The enemy had come with less than five thousand infantry and archers on both occasions, retreating in disarray after engaging our forces for only a short time. Fignam believed Pernissy was trying to draw his men away from the bottleneck and around the bend, where the main Cardian forces could then overwhelm them with as little loss of life to their side as possible. I agreed with him. Taking our position would not be easy, and the Cardians w
ould lose many men in the attempt. Men that they would need if they hoped to take Gandertown afterward. Pernissy might not value the lives of the soldiers he commanded, but clearly someone else on the Cardian side did. Our only chance lay in staying patient and holding our position until Jebido and the rest of my army arrived to reinforce us in the next day or two.

  Four hundred and seventy-seven of my Wolf’s Teeth managed to make it to camp, though many of them didn’t arrive until well into the evening. I never did learn what became of the others, guessing that most had lost heart at some point during the journey and had fled. Fignam still had three hundred archers to call upon, as well as close to a thousand infantry and six thousand mounted men-at-arms. There were also almost six hundred cooks, servants, carpenters, and blacksmiths, as well as many other trades in camp. All of whom I intended to throw into our lines. They might matter little in the end, I knew, but if we fell to Pernissy, they would all be slaughtered anyway, so a Gander victory here remained their only hope.

  The sun was almost completely over the hills now as I walked our lines, with Baine, Fitz, Wiflem, and Fignam all joining me. I had dismounted all but five hundred of the men-at-arms, giving every man a spear to go along with their shields and swords. I now had almost ten thousand infantry—most of them battle-hardened—broken up into four squares of twenty-five hundred men each. Wiflem was to lead my left wing, Fitz my right, with me taking command of the center where I’d placed the remaining House Agents. Fignam would command the final block of infantry, which I would hold in reserve behind my center line along with the five hundred horse. Those infantry reserves would also be used to spell tired units in the front ranks as the battle wore on. Fignam’s remaining three hundred archers would shoot from between the two ranks in the center with their lighter bows.