The Wolf Prince

by Claire M Banschbach

  Killian shook his head to clear his ears of the thundering reverberations. Technically, Lars had been seventeen when he’d been given Jeppe, but perhaps horses measured age differently.

  “Keep it down.” Killian poked a nose into the stall. “We don’t need to attract attention.”

  “I will not!” Jeppe trumpeted. “Just let him come in here and tell me himself!”

  Killian backed up a step, huffing a breath in frustration. “Jeppe.”

  “No. I don’t see why I have to stay.”

  Killian leveled a pointed stare at the hind limb Jeppe kept hovering above the ground. Jeppe snorted and swished his hindquarters around to face him. Killian blinked. It still startled him to hear animals’ opinions so strongly.

  Still, a chuckle wiggled in his chest, it’s rather amusing to see how much he and Lars are alike.

  “What did you do?” Lars stared down at him over crossed arms.

  “Had a conversation.” Killian twitched his ears to flop along his head. Lars wasn’t taken with the look.

  Jeppe hobbled around to face them.

  “Careful. He might bite.”

  “Jeppe!” Lars snatched an arm away from clacking teeth.

  Jeppe eyed Lars balefully.

  “Killi.” Lars turned narrowed eyes at him.

  Killian gave his brother his most innocent eyes. Lars shook his head and reached a tentative hand out to Jeppe’s broad neck. Jeppe turned his head away.

  “I’m assuming that somehow you know you have to stay here.” Lars rubbed the stallion’s neck, making his way down to the withers. “It’s for your own good. They’ll take care of you.”

  Lars slid a treat from his pocket and held it out. Jeppe snorted before grudgingly lipping it from his hand. He butted Lars’s chest, almost knocking him back a step.

  “Don’t think I’m going to forgive you. I’ll show you how upset I am when you climb back up there.” Jeppe crunched the sugar.

  A chuckle teased Killian’s chest. As entertaining as that would be, I don’t need Lars breaking his head. I’ll have to warn him when I get my voice back.

  *

  Killian swished his tail impatiently against the rough floorboards. It had taken two hours to obtain supplies and say farewells to the townspeople, and Killian itched to be away. Lars and Rose finally shouldered bulging packs.

  Lars frowned at the spear in his hand. “I don’t really want to carry this all the way to Myrnius.”

  “I’ll take it off your ‘ands, lad.” The innkeeper rushed over, a gleam in his eyes. “It’ll look good above that fireplace.”

  Hands on hips, he turned to study the soot stained bricks, already planning the placement of the weapon. Lars’s mouth twitched in a pleased grin and he surrendered the weapon. The innkeeper beamed and struck the spear butt against the ground in what was probably meant to be a martial stance.

  “Maybe we should’ve kept one of those ‘eads t’ put up there with it.” He chuckled.

  “I would not ‘ave one of those filthy things staring at me day in an’ out.” His wife swatted his arm.

  “They’re better off burned,” Lars agreed.

  The townspeople flooded the square to wave them off. Rose and Killian were ready to strike out on the path that ran parallel to the river, but Lars hesitated a moment, turning to Adam.

  “I—I know the prince.” Lars shifted uncomfortably. “When we get back, I’ll talk to him. He’ll send a Ranger or one of the Brigade out.”

  “How is it you know t’ prince, lad?” Adam narrowed his eyes in suspicious disbelief.

  “Ulfr and I have helped on a few hunts.”

  Killian swished his tail in relief that Lars had a plausible answer. His mind had gone impressively blank at the question.

  “You really think he’d listen t’ you?” The innkeeper frowned. “No offense, lad, but we’ve all heard about Prince Lars, and you don’t seem like much.”

  Lars’s shoulders tensed, and he looked down at the ground, but Rose spoke up before he could respond.

  “Prince Lars isn’t all that bad.” She nudged his arm. “Ivar here can do it.”

  A few tentative smiles were exchanged, and Adam nodded, a faint bit of hope flickering in his eyes.

  “Well, thank you, lad. Though we won’t blame you if nothing happens.” Adam shook Lars’s hand.

  Lars said nothing, just headed down the road. Killian’s heart twisted at the sight, though he couldn’t help but be a little grateful that the villagers’ bluntness had opened Lars’s eyes. Rose finished her last goodbyes and they both ran after Lars. The trio walked in silence until the village was out of sight.

  “Did you really mean it?” Rose sent Lars a sideways glance.

  Lars nodded and readjusted his pack. “Did you?”

  A faint blush touched her nose. “Maybe.”

  Killian snorted and darted between Lars’s legs, nearly tripping him.

  “Your vote doesn’t count, Killi,” he grumbled. “And I’ll still beat you up.”

  Killian barked and darted up the road, followed by Rose’s laughter. He glanced back and saw Lars nudge her shoulder in a brotherly fashion. She hesitated, eyes wide, then nudged him back.

  *

  Three days of endless trudging along the river road brought them into hills that reached a little higher than their predecessors, with occasional patches of scrub forest littering their sides. Herds of small gazelles became more frequent, and Lars would have sworn to seeing a Wyvern in the distance. His heart had leapt in excitement, but when the winged shape did not reappear, he was forced to continue walking.

  The river gradually carved deeper into the ground until they walked alongside a sizeable gorge. As they made camp for the night in a protected rock outcropping, Lars consulted the map Adam had helped them update in the village. The path they were on was not exactly marked on the map.

  No surprise there. It had, on more than one occasion, disappeared among the grass. But they just continued along the river until it picked back up again.

  I swear this might be the most useless map ever made, except it’s one of the newer ones Father commissioned.

  Fortunately, large landmarks were on the map, such as the ruins of some old watchtower that stood guard across the river from their camp. He’d even been able to match a town they’d passed that afternoon to a small scribble.

  “Maybe another day until we make it to the ford,” Lars reasoned.

  Rose looked up from kindling a small fire. “How far t’ Myrnius after that?”

  “Two, maybe three days. Good news is, there looks to be a few more places we can stop.” Lars refolded the map and stowed it back in his pack, glancing around for Killian, but his brother hadn’t returned yet from his hunt.

  “Assuming, of course, your map is accurate.”

  The tease was obvious in her voice, but he still frowned a little. He was getting used to her forthright ways, tolerating most like a brother. Even if she still manages to irritate me at least twice a day. Probably a sign she’s growing on me.

  “More accurate than your memory, Ranger.” He smirked.

  “Apprentice.”

  “Aspiring apprentice.”

  “All right.” She flicked a rock at him.

  He caught it and tossed it into the darkness. “That’s not very nice, you know, trying to murder someone with a rock.”

  “Your exaggerations will probably kill me one day.” She rolled her eyes.

  He grinned as he handed her a pack. They sat in silence as she poured a bit of oil into the small pan, adding several bread slices as the oil began to pop and sprinkling a bit of pouched seasoning as she turned them. It would make a welcome addition to the near flavorless jerky.

  “Can I ask you a question?” She glanced up from her task.

  “If I say no, will that stop you?”

  Rose smiled. “It’ll probably offend you.”

  “Do go on.”

  “You’re a prince.”

  “That
’s my general impression.”

  She frowned. “You have people t’ cook and start fires even when you’re on t’ road, so how…”

  “Have I survived this trip without being a complete dead weight?”

  “I wasn’t going t’ say it like that!” She fished the fried bread out onto the plates he held out for her.

  Lars settled back against the rough stone and smirked.

  “My great-grandfather, King Adolf, went to war against the Wyverns. One day, two great male Wyverns fell out of the sky in a surprise attack, leaving all but Adolf and one of his men dead. The other soldier was wounded and therefore of not much help to Adolf. So, he was alone in the wilderness with a wounded companion and a crown that wasn’t going to do much to help him survive.”

  “What happened?” She crunched into her bread.

  “He was on his own for almost a week before they found a division of his army. After that he declared no son of his would be helpless like he had been, so my grandfather trained with the Rangers for two years, as did my father, and Killian and I.”

  Rose licked oil from her fingers. “When?”

  “Fourteen to sixteen, spread over those two years, spending at least a season at a time with a Ranger. We never went far from Lagarah. You can learn enough to survive around there.” Lars set his plate aside. “Killian was better at it than me. I never really thought I’d have to put it to use.”

  “What about hunting wyverns together?”

  “Two princes would never be allowed to go off on their own.” Lars shrugged. “Unless one of them gets turned into a wolf and the other, in his infinite wisdom, goes off to hunt revenge and ends up on a quest with his wolf brother.”

  Rose’s giggle built into a full laugh. “Well, when you put it that way…”

  Lars’s chuckle joined hers as he splashed some water from the canteens to rinse the plates.

  “Still, probably just as well we have an apprentice Ranger with us.”

  “Aspiring,” she reminded him as she stirred the fire, adding more fuel of packed grass and gazelle dung.

  “You know, I really hope you washed your hands before touching that bread.”

  Her eyes widened in the firelight and she rubbed her hands on her trousers. Obviously, she hadn’t really thought about it.

  “What’s the matter, Prince Lars? Afraid of a little extra nutrition?”

  “Not at all. I thought it added nicely to the flavor.” He managed to keep a straight face.

  Rose gave another snort of laughter. “You’re disgusting.”

  When Killian returned from his hunt, the western sky held the remnant of sunset in a canvas of dark purple and pink. Lars knew Killian ate in private so he didn’t have to see. More than a little part of him was relieved. Sometimes it was hard enough just watching him lick his paws clean like any other dog.

  Killian growled as if he sensed Lars’s thoughts. Lars offered a half-smile by way of an apology. Killian stared back, amber eyes glinting in the firelight, finally laying his head on his paws.

  Chapter 11

  Einar shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight, sighing in relief at the thatched roofs coming into sight along the river’s gentle curve. They needed more provisions if they were to make it back to the king’s main encampment. And cold gazelle jerky sounded highly unappetizing at the moment.

  His retinue spurred up to a trot behind him. The horses’ hooves clattered against the road paved with smoothed river stones. Villagers stepped out of their way, most following them into the main square to stare curiously.

  The gathering crowd parted to allow a well-built man to come forward.

  The man in charge, then. Good. I won’t have to search him out.

  “What can we do for you, sir?” He addressed Einar with a bow.

  Einar had to cough once to clear his parched throat of dust. “Water for the horses and provisions if you can spare.”

  “O’ course, sir. My name’s Adam.”

  “Einar Regnak.”

  Adam offered another bow and most of the villagers turned to each other with wide eyes and nods. Einar inclined his head in response. He usually did not attempt to capitalize on his well-known name, but he was short on time and patience. He dismounted and handed the reins to his young squire.

  Now for the part I hate. But we need news, if this out-of-the way village might have any.

  “I doubt you would have heard. Prince Killian was killed near a week ago.” His voice tightened over the words and he took a deep breath as the people murmured in shock. Not even the cryptic note signed in Lars’s hand had convinced the family otherwise.

  “How?” One woman held her own son close.

  “Wolves.”

  The murmurs grew louder and the people made signs against evil as whispers of the curse slid through the crowd.

  “Prince Lars has disappeared as well, and we search for him,” Einar said.

  ‘We have to get help’. Of course, Lars couldn’t have given any other indication of what that meant. Einar shoved the recurring thought away again.

  “We wouldn’t ‘ave seen him, not with being trapped by t’ Baedons.” Adam shook his head, regret creasing his weathered features.

  “Baedons?” Einar laid a hand to his sword. Every man in his retinue did the same as they heard the word.

  “No worry,” Adam hastened to reassure him. “They were taken care of.”

  “How? By you?” Einar didn’t attempt to hide his disbelief as he looked over the less-than-warlike villagers.

  “Bless me! No. We didn’t ‘ave the weapons. We were trapped in ‘ere and giving up hope when two days ago, in come some travelers. Young man by t’ name of Ivar and his sister. They and their wolf took on both, if you can believe it.” Adam shook his head, as if amazed at the bravery, or foolishness, of their storied saviors.

  Einar narrowed his eyes. Could be nothing. But I also think I might know a certain young man who would be reckless enough to try… “I’d like to hear this tale.”

  Adam was ready to oblige and embellished the tale only a little as Einar shifted in impatience.

  Einar rubbed at his chin. It sounds like it could be Lars, but I can’t read too much into this tale—if even half of it’s true.

  “Sir?” His captain stepped closer to him, one eyebrow raised, his thoughts apparently running similar to Einar’s. “You think…?”

  “You said they left their horse?” Einar glanced back at Adam.

  Adam nodded, one corner of his mouth pursing, some comprehension beginning to spark in his eyes.

  “Captain Oskar, check the stable,” Einar ordered.

  The murmurs started again as the captain hurried away, but this time the soldiers joined in. Oskar wasn’t gone long, sprinting back to Einar.

  “It’s Jeppe. I checked the tack. It’s his.”

  “Thank the Creator!” Einar closed his eyes for a moment. Lars. But what else did he say? A young woman and—a wolf?

  “There was a wolf with him?” He grabbed at Adam’s shoulder in sudden desperation.

  “Aye, sir, but not like any I’d seen. I swear it knew what we were saying. Wouldn’t ‘ave been surprised if he started talkin’.”

  “They say how they came by it?” Einar resisted the urge to shake the man.

  “Ivar said it’d been following him around since it was a pup.”

  Blood drained from Einar’s face and Oskar muttered something closer to a curse than a prayer.

  “That’s…” Einar stammered. Exactly what Killian’s been doing since he could crawl.

  “There wasn’t technically a body. Just scraps of clothes,” Oskar murmured, still loud enough for some to hear.

  Einar snapped his head up, sickening realization hitting him in a rush.

  “The sorcerer!” he spat.

  Adam lifted his hand to ward against evil for the second time.

  “Who’s the girl?” Oskar asked.

  Einar responded with a shrug. “I don’t think Lars kn
ows any young women who’d join him on such a journey, let alone fight a Baedon.”

  Oskar chuckled, and Adam described Rose upon request, but no recognition stirred in Einar’s mind.

  “Sounds like Ranger gear, though.” Einar looked to Oskar.

  Oskar nodded as he rubbed his chin. “I think I remember something about that missing Ranger having a daughter.”

  Even if that’s so, my first duty is to those boys. Einar squared his shoulders. “Send a rider to the king, informing him that both of his sons are alive and well.”

  “Both?” Adam raised both eyebrows.

  “Aye, the young man who killed the Baedon was Prince Lars,” Einar said. “And you all know the curse on the king’s family?”

  Uneasy nods were passed among the villagers—with good reason, as the king discouraged any talk of it.

  “It seems it’s true. That wolf was Prince Killian, cursed by a sorcerer that the Rangers have been hunting.”

  The talk hadn’t died down in the hour it took for Adam to marshal supplies for the troop and the horses to be watered to Einar’s satisfaction. He noted a few villagers taking to the river in small boats, determined looks on their faces as they paddled away.

  So much for keeping a low profile. This tale is going to be told in every corner of Calvyrn by morning. I suppose it might be too much to hope that the sorcerer won’t hear of it.

  He patted his stallion’s nose, checking the girth again. They would follow the messenger’s path back to the king. Adam had told him the trio planned to head to Myrnius. He had a destination. Now they just had to catch up.

  Chapter 12

  Only a few hours of daylight remained when they reached a bridge spanning the river. The river fell out of the gorge it had carved, plunging down a slope onto the plain below. It meandered into the distant line of forest and the Myrnian mountain range that had become visible in the last day.

  At least we found the bridge. Killian scrambled down the steep slope alongside his companions, his claws giving him a little more purchase than their boot soles. Even if it’s not where Lars expected it to be.