The clearing! If he could manage to get there, there were enough trees that were high enough. The prospect of an escape gave him the courage to run on. The distance between himself and the murderous beast was at least forty paces once it had freed itself from the thorn bush and it began to run. It had a limp! It obviously couldn’t move its crippled foreleg, and that gave Ahren hope. At least until he risked another look over his shoulder after a few more paces.
His hunter was gaining three or four paces with every one of its bounds and would catch him within a few heartbeats! Ahren raced as fast as he could, straining every sinew in his body. He leapt over bushes and ducked with agile movements under low hanging branches. His arms worked like pumps to keep his forward momentum going at full pelt. He practically flew through the forest and a small part of him now understood how his master’s varied lessons were coming together to work as a whole. But most of his thoughts were concerned with the fact that he could only enjoy this realization for a few brief seconds until the Blood Wolf tore him limb from limb like a little rag doll.
His nerves were completely frayed by now. He tried to make use of his smaller size by constantly feinting in order to ensure there were as many tree trunks as possible between himself and the Blood Wolf. This tactic only slowed him down and the distance between them was shrinking mercilessly. A hundred more paces to the incline, and on top of that was the clearing with the practice targets. Ahren calculated that he would manage about half the distance before he felt the fangs of the wolf on his body.
Still he ran on. With sweeping strides he leapt up the hill but he could already feel the beast breathing down his neck. With a yell he stormed onwards, at the same time drawing his knife. Were the creature to grasp him, he wasn’t going to give up his life easily. It was only a few strides to the top of the hill and the familiar edge of the clearing appeared before him. Any second and he’d feel the hard claws boring into his skin and the long teeth would finish him off. Ahren grasped his knife harder and was about to spin around to see his killer in the eye. But suddenly an enormous silver-white spectre appeared over the crest of the embankment and came hurtling towards him.
He flung himself to the side and caught a glimpse of horns, white fur and swirling hooves. With his nose in the earth he heard a deafening crash as the Blood Wolf and Ahren’s mysterious saviour smashed into each other. He picked himself up quickly and saw a furious ball of black and silver-grey fur rolling down the embankment. He could hardly believe his eyes and not wanting to push his luck he ran on as fast as he could until he finally reached the safety of the cabin.
Falk leaped up when his apprentice stormed in, closing the door behind him with a crash. Ahren doubted that this door made of flimsy wood could really stop the Blood Wolf but for the moment he was happy with the illusion of safety. He collapsed into a heap and for the next few minutes couldn’t stop shivering. He wanted to warn his master but his teeth were chattering uncontrollably. He tried uttering ‘wolf’ a few times before eventually giving up. Falk knew a case of shock when he saw it and poured a beaker of calming tea out for him. But his apprentice still needed help in drinking it and managed to spill half of it. Once the brew had performed its task, Falk let his apprentice relate the story right from the start. At first he thought the apprentice had encountered his first wolf alone in the wild and hysteria had done the rest. But when Ahren began describing the animal, he became very tense. He had often experienced how victims of an animal attack would exaggerate their attacker’s size and danger. But the boy had certainly not imagined the red eyes.
‘Alright then, that must have been a Blood Wolf. Now we have to find out how strong the beast is’ Falk began to put on his gear and took up the bow. ‘Was the fur dark red or reddish-black?’
‘Neither. The fur was jet black. It didn’t even reflect the light’, the young boy blurted.
‘That’s not good. The wolf isn’t just fully grown but also very old. The more they kill, the redder the fur. Then the red becomes darker and darker and at some point it’s black’. By now he was fully equipped and opening the chest. This, Ahren knew, contained his master’s most prized possessions.
‘Then at least it’s not so mighty’, said Ahren relieved. ‘It had a red area between the fore-paws’.
At this Falk spun around and grabbed the startled boy by the shoulders. ‘What a strange place. Describe it’.
‘An elaborate spiral, thin and…bright red’, blurted the boy.
Falk let his apprentice go and started cursing loudly.
Ahren stared wide-eyed at his master, who was letting forth a torrent of abusive language.
Once he had calmed down, he sat down on a stool, hung his head and said, ‘I’m sorry, but that was necessary. If the monster is this size it must be at least four hundred years old. The patterns develop only over time and after countless victims have died. Don’t get me wrong, but actually you should be dead’ He looked at Ahren doubtfully.
‘It only had three good legs. One fore-leg is crippled’, argued the apprentice.
Falk only grunted.
‘But it would definitely have caught me if it weren’t for the grey thing’, Ahren added.
His master sat bolt upright. ‘What kind of grey thing?’
Ahren shrugged his shoulders. ‘It suddenly appeared and jumped on top of the wolf, something with horns and silver-grey fur. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was’.
Falk leapt up so quickly that he knocked over the stool. All colour had drained from his face and he gasped, ‘Selsena!’
Before Ahren could figure out if this was an Elfish curse or a name, the old man had stormed out of the door without saying another word. The young boy was torn between fear and awareness of his responsibilities, and sat frozen on his stool. After a few moments he jumped up with a ‘damn!’ and ran after his mentor and directly towards where the Blood Wolf might be lying in wait for them.
Branches were once again whipping his face and his chest was rising and falling like a bellows, but this time, the gods be cursed, he was running in the wrong direction! His master was a silhouette in the afternoon light and no matter how fast Ahren tried to catch up with him, he simply couldn’t. Branches, roots of trees, bushes and twigs just seemed to slide off him, his every movement was efficient and precise, just sufficient to avoid obstacles without ever slowing his tempo. Ahren would have admired this sight under normal circumstances but at the moment he had neither the time nor the nerve.
Every so often Falk would cry out, ‘Selsena!’, and Ahren was sure now it must be a name. It seemed that he must know the creature that had saved him and was more concerned for its safety than for his own.
Or for my safety, thought Ahren for a moment.
Then he realized how selfish this thought was. This creature, whatever it was, had saved his life.
The practice clearing appeared in front of them and Ahren began to grow seriously afraid again. His steps became slower and more hesitant and he dropped further back. His master had reached the middle of the clearing and stood there, rooted to the spot. He was murmuring something so quietly that Ahren couldn’t understand it. The Forest Guardian tilted his head sideways as his apprentice had seen him do so often in the previous few months. Then he nodded and said something again.
Ahren trotted over to his master and caught his breath by putting his hands on his knees. Luckily, Falk seemed to have calmed down, he didn’t seem to want to run any further, but was looking intently at the far side of the clearing. There, only a few paces further, where the two creatures had clashed. For a few moments nothing happened. Then, an animal came slowly out of the undergrowth, and approached the two of them with its head hanging. A bloodied head and flanks and even Falk drew his breath in sharply. He took a step forward, tilted his head again and nodded. His shoulders relaxed.
Ahren saw his rescuer approaching, and now he could make out details. At first he had thought the animal was a large horse but now he saw the massive bone plate that covere
d its head and the three horns protruding from it. The top one was long and spiral with a tapered tip. The middle and lower ones were identical. Small and curved with a serrated edge. The creature had a broader chest than any horse he had ever seen and its fur shone a soft grey, emitting a mysterious silver shimmer wherever it hadn’t been soaked with blood. A thick mane and mighty hooves rounded off the picture.
It came to a halt about a pace away and raised its head so that its silver eyes seemed to stare directly at Falk. He reciprocated the look, cleared his throat and said, ‘Ahren, may I introduce Selsena to you?’
This information came as no surprise to Ahren at this point. He was sure this must have been the name of his rescuer. But one thing wasn’t clear. What was it doing here?
He had a suspicion, but that was absurd.
‘Is that a unicorn?’, he asked in the silence.
Falk winced and the animal snorted scornfully as if it wanted to answer.
‘Please don’t say that’, his master rebuked him. ‘You sound like an idiot to her. The correct title would be Titejunanwa, which roughly translated means ‘One horn, two daggers, three hearts, four hooves protect the forest’ People made that into the word “unicorn’’’.
As he was speaking he began to carefully examine the creature’s head and flanks. ‘I could just call you ‘A’ from now on because the rest is too complicated for me, and that wouldn’t be half as insulting as ‘unicorn’’.
And another disparaging snort from the enormous nostrils.
‘Just call her Selsena’, said Falk as he finished his explanation while he gently stroked the bloodied areas with the flat of his hand.
The blood simply flowed to the ground and not a drop was left on the hide!
The animal was completely clean again within two dozen heartbeats. Apart from three long bruises on the flank where the Blood Wolf had injured it with a paw swipe.
Ahren looked in amazement at the pool of blood in the snow.
‘Nothing sticks to her hide’, explained Falk. ‘And so, for example, she cannot be poisoned by the spittle of a Grave Frog’. He bent down, examined the cuts and continued, ‘which probably explains the fairy tales about purity, maidenhood and all that nonsense’.
Ahren had slowly taken a step forward and looked Selsena directly in the eyes. A happy feeling came over him, just as if he were seeing Likis again, and he smiled, in spite of himself.
Falk stood up straight and said, ‘they are empaths, and can sense feelings and transmit them. And let me make one thing clear: if a Titejunanwa gores you, then you’re dead, virgin or not, whatever any of the stories might claim’. Ahren pulled back instinctively but a merriment immediately spread within him as the Elven-horse snorted.
‘Is she laughing at me?’, asked Ahren taken aback.
‘But of course she is. She’s more clever than you are’, said Falk with a smile. He tilted his head and added, ‘more clever than both of us’. He patted the animal’s neck and another feeling of joy passed through Ahren. It was strange but fascinating at the same time.
The old man understood his look and said, ‘you’ll learn quickly how to ignore them, unless she wants you to know something. By the way, we can head back to the cabin now, she says. The Blood Wolf has fled’. His master turned around and went back beside Selsena and with a spring in his step, started walking towards the cabin.
This news was music to Ahren’s ears and with a last, anxious look over his shoulder, he followed the pair. He stayed in the background on the way home and watched the unlikely couple. Falk stayed close by Selsena’s side and from time to time whispered things into her ear. Sometimes he would tilt his head to the side before answering. Ahren could feel joy, excitement and sometimes annoyance coming from the animal.
‘She can talk to you, can’t she?’ he asked. They both stopped abruptly and Ahren realized that he had asked the question out aloud.
He blushed but his master only nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. A certain…situation…has made it possible for us to talk to each other. She can hear what I think and vice versa. Except that I’m a bit out of practice and I have to ask my questions out loud to muster the necessary concentration’.
‘So, if you tilt your head, then she’s talking to you?’ Ahren was very proud that he had figured this out for himself.
‘Do I do that? I never noticed’, answered his master thoughtfully. ‘Another crutch I can hopefully get rid of soon’.
‘Why are you out of practice’, Ahren wanted to know. Falk scowled and said, ‘we had different opinions…about something very important. We didn’t talk to each other for a long time. I was in the wrong. That’s all I’m going to say’. Selsena snorted.
The rest of the journey passed in silence although Ahren was dying to ask dozens more questions. But Falk kept his head tilted the whole time and judging by his face he was on the receiving end of a long and detailed lecture from Selsena. Ahren was comforted by the irony that his master was getting a dressing down for a change, and he smiled to himself.
All thoughts of the Blood Wolf, which was lurking somewhere out there in the forest, were forgotten for a few precious minutes.
Chapter 8
‘I don’t understand why I didn’t notice the monster earlier. There were practically none of the typical tell-tale signs in the forest. No massacres of wolves and bears, no swathes of destruction in the undergrowth, no woodcutters ripped apart’. Falk threw his arms in the air and looked questioningly out the window to where Selsena was standing.
Ahren listened and shivered but didn’t say a word. Talking about the Dark Ones wasn’t half so terrifying anymore since he had faced the monster the previous day. Nothing could compare with the raw presence of the massive body with its black hide and muscles, which meant certain death.
Ahren got up and began to clear up the breakfast which had ended once his master had finished his exclamation. Speaking had been kept to a minimum the evening before. Selsena had settled down comfortably outside the cabin and Falk had assured Ahren that she would keep watch. It had been obvious to Ahren that he wasn’t going to get any more answers that night and it seemed that they were safe for the time being, so he lay down and promptly fell asleep.
To his surprise he had slept well and deeply and without dreams. He had woken up refreshed and rested and not, as had expected, bathed in sweat in a rumpled bed. He had then gone to the window and seen Selsena looking at him with her soft silvery eyes. A deep feeling of peace had spread inside him and he understood that the animal had guarded not only the cabin, but also his sleep.
Yet all three were restless now. The time had come for his questions so he ploughed on. ‘Why didn’t Selsena just kill the Blood Wolf? They did fight and she seems to have won’.
All the scratches on her flanks were almost completely healed and only recognizable as thin red welts on her hide.
Falk looked at his apprentice in disbelief and snorted. Then he thought better and explained the situation. ‘Selsena caught him off-guard. An attack from close range with the main horn. Her speciality, if you like. She struck him on the shoulder and the two of them hurtled down the incline while the wolf tried to bite her on the throat’. Ahren looked over at the mythical creature anxiously. He vividly remembered the long fangs of the wolf and had no doubt at all that they could have torn apart the neck of the magical horse with one bite.
‘She got free of him and got away from him. Had she engaged in combat for even one more second, then she’d probably have been killed’. The Elven horse gave a quick snort and Falk tilted his head, then said, ‘No false pride now, you know that’s the truth’.
Selsena looked away.
‘The beast ran into the undergrowth, where it has an advantage over her, and for that reason she didn’t give chase. We have to look for it’, said Falk into the silent room.
Ahren nodded wearily. He had seen that one coming. After all, this was the main function of the Forest Guardian. Otherwise he would simply be a common hu
nter.
Falk proudly observed the stoic response of the boy and his look softened. ‘The Blood Wolf is wounded and crippled. It is alone and there are three of us. Selsena can sense its anger if it’s nearby. These advantages should even up the hunt a little’.
‘Do you still think it’s four hundred years old?’ asked Ahren doubtfully. This was an unbelievable length of time that a young brain simply couldn’t comprehend.
‘I said at least four hundred yesterday. Based on Selsena’s description and its quick reaction to her attack, I would guess that he had fought already in the Dark Days’.
Ahren was flabbergasted at this news. This creature had fought in wars that he had read about in the legends during his Godsday lessons!
Falk looked at his apprentice earnestly. ‘It’s important you understand we’re dealing with an old and experienced brain here. Without Selsena’s equally long experience in battle I’d have to drum up half the village, there’d be some massacre, and even then, victory would be far from certain. Think about it, the more blood it spills, the stronger it becomes’.
Ahren looked at the creature outside the window. She was just talking to Falk and the apprentice watched her thoughtfully. These eyes had seen things for more than seven hundred years. What wonders and sorrows must she have experienced?
Falk laughed out loud and the thought was gone.
‘She says it’s not polite to talk about a woman’s age. Better that we change the subject. The first thing we need are battle arrows. Our hunting arrows won’t even penetrate the Blood Wolf’s fur. I’ll take care of that. You run over to Vera and get the Earth Paste’.
Ahren- the 13th Paladin Page 13