Tor studied the small village as he leaned against a tree at the edge of the forest. He was covered in sweat and struggled to regain his breath. The skin on his face burned as if he had a fever. He had run like a madman ever since he left camp, trying to give the village every single minute of a head start that he could. It seemed a peaceful place and his stomach ached as he thought about the carnage that soon would fall upon it. He spent one precious minute collecting himself and straightened up his appearance, figuring he needed to lock as credible as possible. No villagers were in sight, so he made his way over to the largest of the houses that he could see. A knock and a nervous wait later, an old man carefully peeked out through the barely opened door.

“What do you want?” He asked with a hoarse voice.

“I’ve come to warn you, you must leave this village now!” Tor replied with a passion. On his way over he had laboured with different ways to communicate the threat to the villagers. It never sounded very plausible, so in the end he had settled for simplicity.

The old man glared at him suspiciously, without a hint of hurry. “What for?”.

Shit, Tor thought. Them not buying his story was his main worry, and he had yet to come up with a way to convince them. “The Wolfes are coming, they’ll be here in mere hours!”

The man spat through the gap in the door. “Do you take me for a fool, kid?”

Tor shook his head. “Not at all”

“Then tell me this: Who but a Wolf would know this?”

Tor hadn’t thought that far. “You are right, I am a Wolf”, he admitted. His words made the door slam promptly shut. “I am a Wolf, but not in heart” he shouted through the door, hoping that the old man was still listening. “The rest of us are on their way over as we speak. If you leave now, you still have a chance to get away!”

“Bullocks.” The man’s voice was muffled through the door. “You are just trying to fool us out of the safety of our homes.”

“There is no safety in your homes, you moronic old geezer!”, Tor snapped in desperation. His panic was growing, every second wasted here brought the Wolfes ever closer. No retort came from inside the door, and for a short moment Tor feared that this was the end of their discussion. But then he heard the old man unbolt the door and he felt his jaws relax from a tension he didn’t know they had been under.

“You really are telling the truth, aren’t you lad?” Only the head of the old man was poking out from the gap in the door. He looked pale and frail in a way that he hadn’t earlier.

“Yes damnit”

The old man was quiet as he pondered the implications for a while. Eventually his face filled with determination.

“Then we have much to do and little time to do it”

After that the two of them then went on a mad tour of the village, rushing from door to door trying to convince everyone of the urgency of the matter. Given how frail the old man looked, Tor had expected that the main time sink would be shepherding his weak body from house to house, but these villagers really wasn’t a trusting sort and they spent a ridiculous amount of time dropping the same pitch over and over. Their distrust probably served them well most of the time, but you’d think they could make an exception when their life was on the line.

The day had grown worryingly late by the time all of the villagers were gathered outside of the old man’s home. Apparently, he was the informal village head, so Tor had probably lucked out when he went to that house first. They had told everyone to only grab the absolute essentials, but almost every family was stacking huge piles of luggage by their feet. Pulling the escape off was looking less likely by the minute.

When they finally left the village, it was in a single line that inched their way forward on the forest trails at a dangerously slow pace, and Tor running up and down the line hurrying people on didn’t do squat to improve it. He felt a growing fear as time went by, there was far too little distance between them and the village. As the sun went down the forest grew pitch black, which could have given them some cover if he only could have convinced the thick-headed villagers to snuff their lanterns. No such luck though, despite him walking at the very front of the line, constantly trying to convince the old man how dangerous it was.

The lanterns barely lit up a metre ahead of them, but it was enough for Tor to see the silhouette of man step out of the bushes further up the trail. All the fear and anxiety in his chest immediately turned into cold dread. He couldn’t see the face, but he instinctually knew who it was.

The dull sound of palm against palm echoed through the forest as Josef slowly applauded him.

“Good job Tor. You have performed perfectly”, he said with a mocking voice. “I couldn’t have been prouder”

The forest spun around Tor and he felt light-headed. How was this possible?

The caravan had stopped, and he didn’t need to turn around to know that the villagers were glaring at him. He could feel their disappointed and angry stares burning in his back from his unwitting betrayal.

All around them, more and more members of the band stepped out of the bushes. The villagers were thoroughly surrounded. Josef walked up to him with a slow swagger. Tor flinched as Josef reached towards him with his large hand, but for once he wasn’t slapped or shoved. Josef just gently put his hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye with a victorious smile.

“Did you honestly think you could pull the same shit twice?”

Tor felt horrible. He honestly wished for Josef to hurt him, anything to make it clear to the others that he wasn’t a part of this. The villager’s resentment was palpable, and his shame made him sick to the stomach. He didn’t even dare to look at the old man beside him.

“For your exemplary performance, I’m giving you the honour of the first kill”. Josef spoke with a loud voice, making sure everyone heard him.

Tor didn’t move an inch, his body frozen in fear. The old man’s cry of pain as someone kicked him down to his knees brought him out of his shock and he turned towards the frail figure on the ground next to him. He absentmindedly grabbed the short sword that Josef was offering him, fully absorbed by the thinness of the old man’s neck.

“If you are too weak to do it, there are plenty of others who would be glad to take your spot”, Josef said with a sneer.

A wave of relief washed over Tor as he heard Josef’s words, but at the same time he was overcome with disgust of himself. He was a fucking hypocrite, thinking himself too good to do evil, but happy when others did it for him. He still didn’t mind the proposition, he really couldn’t see himself taking the life of a human.

Behind him someone spat. “I told you he was too much of a piss-ant to do it”. The voice was full of disdain and disappointment.

Tor’s legs buckled under him and he felt the sword dropping from his hand as all strength left him. He knew that voice better than any. The words were from his baby brother, the only family he had left and his main reason for living. The words sounded alien in ears. This was not the brother he remembered.

“Erik!” Josef exclaimed happily. “Care to cover for your brother?”

“I’d be proud to do it”, Tor heard his little brother say. He couldn’t for the life of him make sense of the situation. When had this change in his brother happened? He had always been rash and ambitious, but the malice Tor felt from him was something new. His brother looked the same as he remembered him. He might be dressed in mismatched pieces of armour, likely pilfered from the pack’s victims, but it was the same unruly hair that he remembered, and the thin fingers that picked up the dropped sword were the same that he had held in his hand a thousand times as they grew up. And now the spindly frame that he had hugged and comforted during dark moments slowly lifted the sword high, getting ready to take the life of an innocent old man.

“Stop!”

Everyone turned towards Tor. Erik held his strike, slowly lowering the sword.

“I’ll do it”, he heard himself say in a defeated voice. It felt like he was seeing everything from a distance as he slowly grabbed the sword from his brother. His heart felt numb, and it was with apathy that he noted the wide grin on Josef’s face as he positioned himself next to the old man. Tor’s arms raised the sword mechanically above his head. He tried to focus and bring himself to strike, but his thoughts were sluggish and incoherent. His arms swayed as he balanced the weight of the weapon, waiting for his heart to catch up. A sideways look brought his little brother into view. He couldn’t tell if the sharp stare he got was one of judgement or approval, but it helped him gather his resolve. This is for you, brother.

The sword wasn’t well maintained, and Tor was not a warrior. The old man’s head didn’t roll down on the ground like he thought it would. It just hung sickeningly from the neck, mostly cut through but still attached by skin and sinew. Tor tossed the weapon away from him the second that he deed was done, feeling like he’d burn his hands if he held it for even a second longer. Soon after, his stomach decided that it had enough, warm bile making its way up his throat.

The sound of Tor retching snapped everyone out of the weird spell they’d fallen under, villager and marauder alike. The villagers began vailing, but none of them tried to get away from the encirclement that was steadily closing in on them. Josef shouted out order to his men, and they quickly disarmed the villagers without giving them opportunity to resist, pushing them to the ground. The old and frail were separated from the rest and was then summarily executed. It was the wolfs’ usual way of doing things, something they had done hundreds of times before. The brutality of it put the remaining villagers into a shocked stupor, only making the processes even easier for their tormentors.

“You have a choice, my friends”, Josef said with his commanding voice. “Do you want to be trampled on? Or do you want to be the ones who trample?”

None of the villagers responded. Given their chock and the gravity of the decision, their indecisiveness was understandable. Josef took their passivity in stride.

“Chose now, or the decision will be made for you”, he said, putting his fist above his head. “I’m giving you until the count of five. If you aren’t standing up when I’m done, then you have brought upon yourself a life of servitude and suffering”.

Tor didn’t need to look up from his puddle of vomit to know that Josef had their rapt attention. It wasn’t that long ago that he had been in their position.

“One!” Josef began his count, extending a solitary finger. The huddling group of villagers franticly began discussing with each other, trying to make sure their loved ones took the same decision.

“Two!” One of the villagers stood up. It was a young man, not unlike Tor’s brother. A woman next to him was crying, but she remained seated.

“Three!” Three more joined the young man, who was trying to get his mother to stand up.

“Four!” Two more stood up, by the looks of it a couple.

“Five!” Josef finished. None of the villagers moved. Except for the ones crying, no one made a sound. Josef lowered his hand and let the silence linger for a while.

“To those of you who have the strength to create your own fortune, welcome to the Wolfes!” he said, and commanded his men to gather the standing villagers. They weren’t bound, but they were closely guarded.

“As for the rest of you”, Josef continued. “You might spite us and curse your misfortune. But don’t lie to yourself. You were given a choice, and this was the fate you settled for. I hope you can live with your choice.”

As soon as he had finished, the sitting villagers’ hands were tied, and they were then strung up to each other, like beads on a neckless. The baggage that they had been carrying was quickly ransacked by the marauders. The few items that held any actual value was loaded unto the captured villagers, as if they were mere beasts of burden. Tor was trying to make up his mind if he should make an attempt to stand up, or if he just should remain laying in his vomit. Neither option felt like a good idea.

The sound of someone walking towards him made him look up from his collection of half-digested food. Josef hunched down, meeting him halfway.

“I honestly didn’t think you had it in you”, he said gleefully.

Tor met the man’s eyes and felt a burning anger in his chest. “I’ll kill you one day”, he said, and was surprised to feel that he honestly meant it. For the first time in his life, Tor genuinely wanted to hurt someone. He wanted nothing more than to see Josef loose his prideful smile, bent over from a sword in the gut.

“That’s more like it”, Josef said and patted his head as if he was a child. “Just make sure that you have what it takes before you try anything. Because I promise you, you won’t live to regret the decision.”

Josef held his gaze for a while longer, letting his message sink in. Then he stood up and began preparing the band to leave. A few minutes later, Tor was joined by one of Josef’s many eager helpers, who pulled him up with a firm grip on his hair and brought him to the middle of the line where he had exactly zero chance to run off.

Tor tried to find his brother in the group. His stomach ached as he remembered the harshness of his brother’s words. There had to be an explanation for it, if he could just talk to him one on one, he was sure they could put things straight. They had always been close, and he couldn’t believe that a few weeks of separation could have caused his brother to change so much. But he was nowhere to be seen, and the darkness of the woods forced him to focus on the ground just to keep from falling.

From the front of the line he could hear Josef whistling a jolly tune as he led the band towards future prospects, his whistling accompanied by the subdued sobbing of his most recent victims.