The Wolf At War

by Terry Cloutier

  My grandfather will not die now, simply because he promised me that he would not. Not yet, anyway. That might not be sufficient for anyone else, but it is more than enough for me. He will live because he must live, as the last conversation we had three days ago before he fell unconscious proves.

  “You look distraught, child,” my grandfather had said to me.

  I was sitting by his bed, tears rolling down my cheeks, his story of the final moments of the nine finally finished. It was a lovely day for a change, with the snows finally beginning their reluctant retreat beneath a warm spring sun. I could hear birds singing and children laughing outside, yet I wanted to be nowhere else but in this room with my grandfather. I’d had little knowledge of the story he had told me these past months, and I could only weep for the grandmother that I had never known and for the heart-broken man lying beside me. The pain and anguish, so evident in his eyes whenever he spoke of Lady Shana, never failed to grip my heart with sorrow. Few of us are lucky enough to feel such love for another person the way that I knew my grandfather still did for Shana Corwick.

  “Do not cry, so, child,” Lord Hadrack said to me gently. He reached to take my hand, his own shaking, thin and white. “This all happened many, many years ago to people who have been long dead. Do not weep for them, my sweet Lillia. Rejoice in who they were and all the great things that they accomplished. Some people in this world just exist, child. Simply happy to eat, shit and sleep their way through life.” My grandfather released my hand, settling back into the bedclothes as he stared upward, his eyes far away. “But not them.” He sighed then and I could see tears in his eyes now, despite his words about my own. “Jebido, Baine, Fitz, Einhard, and Alesia, and even that bastard Malo—they were all so alive!” He looked at me, pain and loss etched on his face. “And of course, my darling wife,” he said, so low I almost missed it. “She was life itself, wrapped in warmth and love, so beautiful, kind, and good. The gods must have rejoiced on the day they made her, child, for surely they must have known that perfection had been achieved.” He choked then, fighting to breathe as I stood up in alarm. “It’s nothing,” my grandfather gasped. He closed his eyes for a long time and I thought that he had fallen asleep. But then he reopened them, fixing his gaze unwaveringly on me. “But enough of all that. I imagine you have some questions for me?”

  “Yes, lord,” I replied. “Many of them. But they can wait. You need your rest.”

  “Nonsense,” Lord Hadrack snorted, waving a hand. “I’ve never felt better in my life.” He grinned at me then, both of us accepting the lie. My grandfather glanced behind me toward the window. “But I think you need to go outside for a while first. The day looks welcoming after such a harsh winter. You have been cooped up in this stuffy room with me for far too long, child. A little sunlight will do you good.”

  “Very well, my lord,” I reluctantly agreed, knowing by the familiar, set look on my grandfather’s face that refusing was not an option. “Just answer two questions for me, and then I promise I will go. And when I return, I’ll bring some of that spiced custard with me that you like so much. Is it a bargain?”

  “You are a shrewd one,” Lord Hadrack said, smiling at me. “You know I can’t resist a pretty girl, much less custard.” He waved a hand. “I will give you your two questions, child, and then you go and get some fresh air for at least an hour.”

  “Agreed,” I said. I sat back down then, composing my thoughts. Finally, I asked, “What happened to Malo and the codex, my lord?”

  My grandfather shrugged as he looked down at his hands. “The revelations inside turned out to be too much for him to bear. Malo might have been a strong man on the outside, but inside it seemed he was less so. He and the House Agents with him renounced their vow of service to the House and disappeared with the codex.” My grandfather grimaced and motioned toward the fireplace and the weapons hanging above it. “I received Malo’s short sword, Boar’s Tooth, by messenger several weeks after Grindin and Luper Nash died.”

  “Why, my lord?” I asked, not understanding.

  “I thought at first that it was Malo’s way of thanking me for not telling Daughter Gernet about the codex,” Lord Hadrack said. He glanced sideways at me. “Malo foolishly believed that the House would stay as it was if he disappeared with the codex. But it wasn’t long before I realized the sword wasn’t a thank you at all. It was actually Malo’s way of telling me to remain silent, or else.” My grandfather chuckled. “I’ve kept it all these years to remind me what a bastard he was.”

  “But the House did not stay the way that it was anyway,” I said, knowing that it was true.

  “No,” Lord Hadrack replied with a sigh. “Sadly, it did not. Though it would be some years later before anyone other than a select few finally learned the truth.”

  “Did you have something to do with that, my lord?” I asked. My grandfather merely nodded his head, his eyelids drooping as his chin slowly lowered to his chest. I waited for a time, then I stood once more and started to make my way carefully and quietly across the room.

  “You still have one more question, child,” Lord Hadrack called drowsily from behind me.

  I turned. “It can wait, my lord.”

  “Don’t be silly,” my grandfather said, blinking his eyes as he tried to focus on me. “Ask your question so that I can sleep.” I stepped closer to the bed, desperate to know yet reluctant to ask. “Out with it, child,” Lord Hadrack finally scolded. “Whatever it is, it can’t be worth scrunching your face up like that.”

  I took a deep breath, then hurried to say the words before I lost my courage. “How did my grandmother die?” My grandfather lay still for a moment, his grey-blue eyes ringed by red fixed on mine as I saw sudden pain crease his features. “I am so sorry, my lord,” I said, my heart racing. “It’s just that you have never spoken of it, ever. Not even to Uncle Hughe or anyone else. No one seems to know, or if they do, they won’t tell me.” I hung my head, regretting speaking my thoughts now. “I should not have asked you.”

  “It’s all right, child,” my grandfather said kindly. He took a deep breath, pausing to cough twice before he nodded to me. “But it is a question that deserves a proper response, one that will take many days. Go outside now and feel the sun on your skin. I will tell you all that you wish to know on your return.” My grandfather must have seen the look of indecision on my face, for he held out his hand as I hurried around the bed to take it. “Do not fear, my child,” he said, gently patting my hand. “I have planned on telling you this part of my life all along. You and every other Corwick deserve to know the truth before I die.” Lord Hadrack chuckled when he saw my expression. “Do not worry so much. I promise I have no plans on leaving this world before you know the truth. So go now and enjoy yourself.” He smiled then, a look of mischief crossing his features that gave me a glimpse of the handsome, charming man he must have once been. “And don’t forget my custard, or I’ll tan your backside.”

  “I won’t,” I promised as I gently lowered his hand to the bed. I leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “I will be back in an hour, Grandfather, and then we can talk some more.”

  “An hour,” Lord Hadrack agreed, his eyelids drooping once again.

  I had paused in the doorway on my way out, staring back at the silent figure on the bed, marveling at the life he had lived and the wondrous things that he had accomplished in that life. Then I had left to enjoy the sunshine, expecting that in an hour, I would finally learn the mystery of Shana Corwick’s death. But of course, by the time I returned with his custard, Lord Hadrack lay unconscious, with the truth about my grandmother still locked out of reach inside his head.

  I sit now over this paper brooding, with nothing left to write. All I can do is stare at Lord Hadrack’s still form and pray that he will awaken to continue his story. Would his pledge to me be enough to keep him in this world for a time longer, or were the three physicians right and he really was going to die?

  Only the gods Above, Below, and B
eyond knew for certain, and they weren’t saying.

  Lillia Corwick

  THE END

  Author’s Note

  Thank you, once again, dear reader, for your overwhelming support of this series. Had someone told me two years ago when I first sat down to write The Nine that it would be this successful, I would have laughed and called them crazy. I owe a great deal of that success to my darling wife, who has supported me without hesitation from the first word I typed, though I know she is looking forward to getting a break from tiptoeing around the house all day while I pluck away at my laptop. It took me seven months to write The Wolf on the Run, and I freely admit I struggled with the plot at times. This final book flowed almost effortlessly for some reason, and I completed it in just four months. I can only hope future books will be just as easy and fun to write as this one was.

  Speaking of future books, I will be taking a break from this series for a while. I have other books I am eager to try, and I feel it’s time to get out of Hadrack’s head—or for him to get out of mine, I’m not sure which it is. I originally envisioned only four books in this series, but even though the nine are all dead, the truth is I have come to love these characters and cannot imagine never writing about them again. As you probably guessed by the epilogue, Hadrack’s story and troubles are far from over. The Wolf of Corwick will ride again soon!

  All the best

  Terry Cloutier

  March 2021

  By Terry Cloutier

  The Wolf of Corwick Castle Series

  The Nine (2019)

  The Wolf At Large (2020)

  The Wolf On The Run (2020)

  The Wolf At War (2021)

  The Zone War Series

  The Demon Inside (2008)

  The Balance Of Power (2010)

  Novella

  Peter Pickler and the Cat That Talked Back (2010)