by B J Hanlon
Edin stretched out his back and his sore thighs from the ride and began the Oret Nakosu. After he finished all the exercises, he still was full of energy. Not walking was a boon.
He practiced the sword and when all four of those sets were done he looked at the staff. The air was warm and heavy. The exercises taxed his muscles but the staff stared at him, taunted him. ‘Try again,’ it said in his mind.
He ignored the voice and laid near the fire. As he sipped from the aleskin he stared up at the night sky and tried to pick out the constellations, the gods Losilin, Estoolin, Vipastio, the corrinbomon. Edin could never make them out, even when Horston had tried to show him with the telescope. All he ever saw were tiny white dots on a field of black. Infinitely small and out of reach.
Edin closed his eyes; the ground wasn’t as comfortable as the bed but he drifted off quickly.
The world was odd. Edin thought it was a dream but it felt different. He watched from what would’ve been a second story balcony, though it was closer to him floating in midair.
A dark cloaked man driving his horse as fast as he could rushed through the night. The animal was straining under the whips, it sweated and white saliva was foaming at its mouth. Edin felt bad for the beast, though he was certain he’d done the same to his own horse, the one without the name the day before.
The man burst through the open portcullis and into a city. His emblem, the insignia of the mage hunters was gold. A Justicar. He leapt from the horse as it protested the harsh treatment. He threw back his hood revealing a bald head with thin black eyebrows. Edin would have known those eyebrows anywhere…
In the shimmering lamp light, he had a ghostly appearance. His dark eyes scanned the inner part of the gates until he spotted a pair of guards.
“I’m Justicar Merik and I’m looking for the magus,” he said to a guard. The guard’s eyes flickered toward his partner then back at the Justicar. “Where is he?”
“He… uhh…”
“Escaped last night,” the second man said, his voice was shaking.
“I know he escaped, where did he go? Where did he stay? Who was he with?”
“South… he headed south. I don’t know where he stayed…” the first guard said.
“I heard he and his companions stayed at Drunken Boar… terrible ale but not too bad of a time.”
“I didn’t ask for your recommendations on what to see in this damned city. What happened to the companions?” Merik spat.
“Disappeared too, no one knows which way they went… everyone was chasing the mage.”
“Morons…” The Justicar grunted. Merik looked around peering up at something, what Edin didn’t know. “Where is the merc guild in this dung squabble city?”
“Near the north gate, just past the beggars’ row.”
Merik turned his head slowly as if it weren’t attached to his body and looked almost directly at Edin.
Edin felt as if the dark eyes were piercing his head. He heard a loud neigh, Edin looked away, he had to. He saw the Justicar’s warhorse, it was silent and drinking from a trough. Where’d the neigh come from?
A howl followed and this time it wasn’t his dream.
Edin’s eyes popped open, his head buzzed with the face of the Justicar. Merik. The man from his dreams… his nightmares.
It took him a moment as he looked around to realize he wasn’t in the city, he was in a clearing with slim tendrils of silvery moonlight breaking through trees.
Over his shoulder the horse whined louder and rustling came from somewhere in the dark beyond the edge of his sight.
He slipped his hand to his sword and pulled it from his sheath as quietly as possible. His eyes weren’t adjusting as quick as he’d like.
He heard soft thumping. It wasn’t thunderous, but if felt like a hundred animals were baring down on him. He glanced at the horse, still tied to a tree branch.
Then the dark form appeared, first one, then another, pairs of golden eyes peered at him. Both were huge wolves that looked black in the darkness, their shoulders were the same height as his chest. Dire wolves… the bane of the crillio and man.
15
Hollow of Sleep
Edin jumped to his feet. A low branch smacked his head. Edin staggered and drew his blade. Two more appeared out of the trees like ghosts from a fog.
Edin clenched his blade in both hands staring at them or trying to stare at them. Those deep yellow eyes hissed at him and sent shivers running through his body. They were the eyes of death, a baleful stare that would shake the strongest terrin.
Sweat poured down his face and he hadn’t even moved as the wolves growled and snarled, their huge fangs exposed. These were not like facing bandits. Those animals were sloppy, slow and uncoordinated. These seemed to move as one. Edin kept his back to the tree and tried to keep them in his peripheral vision. There was no way he’d be fast enough to stop them. They were lean, strong predators. They fought together to take down prey. Being alone and facing a pack was a death sentence for any mundane.
“I am a mage,” Edin shouted trying to stop the quiver in his voice, “stay back.” There was no way they could understand and even if they could, Edin was sure they could smell his fear.
Shuffling came from his left, he saw a gray blur race toward him. Edin quickly created a shield as the animal leapt. It crashed with a yelp and whimpered as it fell to the ground.
Edin dropped the shield and rolled forward, dodging another’s snapping bite. One jumped at him as he tried to stand, its jaws snapped, a thunderous clap erupted next to his ear. An instant later, he felt paws slam into his chest as if he were a training dummy for some martial school. Edin tumbled backwards and covered his face with his offhand. Teeth snagged his forearm, but then stopped. There was a painful cry as the beast fell pinning his sword beneath it, the tip poking out from the back like lawn gnomes in tall grass. He tried to scramble to his feet but was trapped. He looked around quickly as he tried to pull his blade free fighting the weight of a two-hundred-pound body.
One darted at him. Edin let go and spun over the fallen wolf landing hard on his injured arm. Pain blinded him and then a furry body whipped into him. Edin was sure he was about to die. He was weaponless. He heard a hard stumble and annoyed howl off to the right.
The beast that lunged was still rolling on the ground. Edin twisted to his stomach and pushed himself up as another leapt. The shield appeared without him thinking about it. A moment after it crashed into the shield, Edin had a memory of hunters fighting wolves.
‘Spears is whatcha need to hunt wolves. Keep ‘em at a distance and when they charge skewer ‘em like a noble on a horse. A sword ‘ill get you killed.’ That moment, he remembered creating the huge axe. Could it work? It did on the crillio.
A spear appeared in his hand, not weighing a thing. The animal leapt and Edin lowered it like a spearman. The fangs separated, as its powerful legs pressed to the ground. It snapped and Edin slid the spear over barely an inch. They collided. The force threw Edin back, he stumbled over the dead corpse and landed hard. A baleful cry came from the beast.
His heart sank as he remembered the hounds from the kennels. They were hunting dogs, but they also were friends. Edin played with them as puppies and helped train them as they grew. They’d snuggle his legs, sometimes he’d sneak them into the house and fall asleep with the hounds on his mother’s couch. She’d wake him with a stern mouth but knowing eyes. He remembered one, Spill, the clumsiest as a pup getting bit by one of his brothers yelping and howling in pain. It was only a little cut on his hind leg but he cried and cried for hours.
Another mournful howl. It snapped him out of the memory and Edin saw a blur of charcoal gray and black to his right. Edin spun and leapt over the second dead beast until he was standing before the dying embers with a monster wolf facing him.
It was bigger than the rest. The horse neighed to the side and then a sickening thud came from behind him. Adrenaline coursed through him, his chest pounded and it seemed
like his body was bursting with energy.
“Come on,” he shouted. He’d try the same trick if it attacked. It didn’t. The wolf turned its head to look over Edin’s shoulder, then back to him. It snapped at him then darted away, disappearing into the brush.
Edin twisted toward his horse. He hoped the mount was still alive. Then he saw the forth dire wolf limping toward the forest. A paw on its front leg hung as it moved.
The dire wolf whimpered and stumbled. Falling to the dirt. Another whimper, and a continuous cry for help, for mercy. It struggled to get up and somehow twisted its snout toward Edin, there wasn’t any more death in its eyes, just pain. He stared for a moment, he was watching an animal that’d die if it didn’t get help struggle to stand.
It collapsed and its breathing became heavier and it began whining. A pang of sorrow ran through him as he looked down at the other dead wolves. They were magnificent creatures, strong and powerful. Like the crillio’s. They survived on their instinct to hunt.
Edin watched as the dog’s eyes closed. His heart sank. He had to do something…
Edin hurried. He needed light, he tossed wood on the fire. Grabbing two thick and sturdy pieces of wood he slowly moved toward the animal. The wolf growled and Edin was prepared to leap back if it snapped at him. It didn’t.
He used his sword and cut strips from the bottom of his new tunic and moved closer to the animal’s broken leg.
“Easy boy,” Edin said about to kneel next to it.
The wolf watched out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly it snapped at him. Edin leapt back and the horse neighed. Then the dire wolf whimpered and laid its head back down.
Holding up his hands, Edin inched closer toward the injured beast. He tried to be as slow and careful as he could. The wolf did nothing as Edin reached for its paw.
It whimpered again and growled, showing its finger length fangs.
“Be strong,” Edin whispered under his breath not knowing if it was meant for him or the wolf. He saw the break in the bottom half of the leg. The skin wasn’t broken and there was no sign of blood. Edin moved one piece of wood below and another on top. He created two slip knots and put them into place around the animal’s leg. Edin had practice setting bones, though that was under a healer’s watch… and not on a dire wolf. Edin got ready, he felt the break between his hands. His pounding heart thumped faster than ever and his mouth went dry.
He took a breath and pressed. A snapping sound and the dire wolf cried out in an agonizing sound of torture.
Edin ran a hand down the back of its head. The hounds liked it.
“I’m trying to help,” Edin whispered in what he hoped was a calming voice but as always it sounded as if he were talking to a child.
Edin slowly slid one of the splints under the injured leg and the other on top. Using the strips of cloth from his tunic, Edin pulled the knots together around the two pieces of wood.
The animal cried slightly as he pulled the straps taut.
“You need to go easy on it,” Edin said.
The hound dogs at home understood commands but telling them to go easy was like commanding water not to flow down hill.
Edin ran his fingers through the wolf’s fur for a moment before he put more logs on the fire and leaned back against the tree. His horse was eyeing the wolf wearily as if saying ‘keep that monster away.’
There were two dead wolves and an injured one in his camp. The other, was probably watching them.
There wouldn’t be any more sleep that night. He laid back and tried to keep his mind occupied thinking about the last few days. He thought about Fali, he saved her life and she hated him, even condemned him for it.
Like the supposedly noble and spiritual Vestion, no matter what happened, to the church, he was evil. The Por Fen were just the executioners.
Edin remembered the dream… was it a dream? It seemed so lucid, so real. Something told him Merik was and the same Justicar that was at the manor. And he was in Frestils, only a day’s ride away.
Edin stayed awake trying to picture what he’d do to the man. Take his head quick or make him suffer. The thoughts of pain he’d inflict and the revenge he wanted… yes, maybe they were bad, maybe some would call them evil… but what else did he have? If everyone called him a monster at what point did he become one?
A soft panting sound close to his ear woke Edin. The smell of rotting flesh on warm breath came over his him as a glob of something gooey dropped to his face. Edin blinked open his eyes and saw two large yellow orbs staring back at him.
His mind went blank, he forgot everything except the large gray and white head staring down at him. It took every bit of restraint to stay still, not that it’d matter. He’d heard bears don’t attack if you play dead… but what about dire wolves? Sweat began to itch his scalp but he didn’t scratch, anything may provoke the beast.
Then the dire wolf licked its lips, yawned and dropped its heavy head on Edin’s chest with a thump. Edin lowered his eyes and saw the horse standing peacefully a few yards away. It was eyeing the canine but not making any move.
Edin slowly reached up and started scratching behind the animal’s ears. The wolf turned to the side and rolled onto his back. Edin moved his fingers under the jaw and kept going for a few more moments.
Carefully, he stood as the wolf watched him. He looked at the two dead wolves and could smell death on them.
Edin turned a bit but kept a wary eye on the beast. He checked his forearm. The skin hadn’t broken but he saw purple bruises already in full view. He clenched his fist, it hurt but the hand worked.
After a few moments, he let the horse loose to graze and tore a hunk of the loaf off. He took a bite and saw the wolf looking at him and then his breakfast. Edin ripped a piece off and tossed it.
The wolf snatched it, started chewing then let it drop from his mouth.
“It was better yesterday,” he said with a halfhearted grin. The wolf tried to stand, hobbling on three legs. It took a few hobbled steps. It was crippled and if the wolf packs were anything like people, cripples were left with scraps… if anything at all.
Edin saved the animal but now what would it do? He felt almost sorry to leave it in this state.
The horse, still grazing on a patch of long grass looked to be enjoying the freedom.
Edin glanced toward the tiny road. The sparse trees began to merge together under a dark canopy as it entered a forest.
He had to get moving, but just looking at the road made him feel like he was running headlong into something horrible. It sent shivers down his spine. Like a child… he didn’t want to go.
Edin’s eyes moved toward the quarterstaff leaning next to the tree. He didn’t have to leave right now…
He glanced at the wolf. “Don’t laugh,” Edin said. It laid down.
Despite the pain in his forearm, Edin grabbed the sword and the staff and began moving through the first form. The staff was shorter than the broom handle and felt better. More stable.
He modified slightly as he went through the movements. He had to change certain sections and adjust for balance, but soon it began to feel natural.
Edin slashed with the blade and followed with a spinning staff strike keeping one end locked between his elbow and ribs and the other sweeping the legs of an invisible opponent. Edin kept the momentum going twisting into a dragon stance and slashing again.
The movement felt good. He kept adjusting as he practiced, while still trying to keep the body mechanics sound.
After the first set, he felt calmer… ready to go. He struck camp, which was throwing dirt on the fire and saddling the horse.
The wolf watched him with almost a sad expression. Did it mean to come with him?
“I can’t help you,” Edin said. He turned the horse toward the forest trail and began trotting. Behind him, he heard a moan and scraping. Edin glanced back. The wolf was hobbling behind him. Its injured paw hanging limp.
“I can’t be slowed… I have people after me. Bad people
. I’m sorry but you have to find your pack…”
The dire wolf didn’t respond. It just kept moving down the road toward him.
Edin looked ahead. The trees grew thicker and stood over it like canyon walls. He didn’t like the look of the forest. Edin glanced down at the wolf as it stopped next to the horse and stared in the direction they were heading. It was ready to go. It was going to go.
Edin sighed and kicked the horse forward. As they went, he barely heard the animal padding along behind him as the sun was blotted out. In fact, he barely heard anything. The world around him was silent but for the horse and his own breathing. It took him about an hour or two to realize the forest hadn’t even whispered. No wind, no birds or beasts. Not even insects buzzing around his head like carrion’s over a carcass.
Edin had to pay attention. He remembered the effort Grent put into his vigilance, the man’s head roamed, his eyes never in one place for more than a second.
Slowly though, his mind wandered. He glanced back at the wolf that was plodding along well away from the horse’s hooves.
The road twisted through the forest, he crossed a small bridge over a tiny stream. It’d barely held but it was the only sign of humanity besides the road. Bushes and tall flowerless plants lined the forest’s edge like a fence keeping all trespassers out.
After so many twists, and with the sun barely seen, he had no idea which direction he was going.
He kept the pace slow despite the knowledge of the Justicar. Suddenly, in front of him, a bush rattled.
It was so unexpected. So shocking, Edin’s arm seized and he pulled back on the reins. The horse stomped and shook its head letting out long streams of white spittle. A moment later, the wolf moved next to him and stared.
“What is it?” Edin said.
The wolf was silent but glaring.
Edin turned back around in the saddle. It was dark behind him and in front. There was so little light he couldn’t even be sure what time it was.
“Come out!” Edin yelled. No response. “I am armed…” Again nothing. Edin slowly dismounted and drew his sword. He stalked toward the rattle. It was low. It could’ve been a bandit lying in wait. Edin took a few more steps, his pulse thumped.