XII. The Wolves of the Timberline

Vance awoke to bright sunlight streaming through the tattered floral print curtains. The old cottage’s brick walls and single paned window had leached out any warmth the room had over the night. His breath came out in short puffs, it was remarkably brisk autumn morning. He raised his arm to cover his face and rolled over, coming face to face with a smiling Leila. He nearly leapt from the creaking iron bed, surprised to find another body beside him. A dopey grin replaced the shock as he recalled how the previous night had been spent.

“Good morning.” She sang.

The morning sun reflected off her golden eyes, like polished bullion in the king’s treasury. With a sly grin, she lowered the comforter from her breast, revealing the soft globes of flesh beneath. The chill or arousal had left her nipples erect, beckoning him to caress them with his tongue.

“Good morning.” Vance said, his attention split between her lovely face and equally lovely chest. “You snore.”

With an indignant huff, she grabbed the pillow from beneath his head and smacked him in the face with it. They quickly devolved into a fit of playful giggling as he attempted to wrestle it free from her grip, eventually settling on exploring her body with his hands once again. She pushed him away and wagged her finger in mock disapproval.

“Don’t you have chores to do?”

He stretched grandly and swung himself into a sitting position. “I’d nearly forgotten. What time is it?”

“It’s just about noon.”

Vance grabbed his sword as Leila shrieked and covered herself with the blanket. He relaxed a bit and let out a mild curse upon recognizing Rémann in the doorway, his fear quickly replaced by annoyance for the intrusion, then shame for his current state of undress.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Rémann coughed into his fist. “but I did not expect to find you in such a compromising situation.”

Vance leaned his sword against the wall and pulled on his trousers. “We are only human after all.”

Rémann chuckled and held up his hands. “I was not passing judgement Sir, but we are on a schedule.”

Leila wrapped herself in the sheet and scurried off to change in private. Vance shrugged on his tunic and fumbled to find his armor.

“The boy, Zuri, has already hitched your oxen and loaded the lady’s carriage.” He said impatiently.

Vance forced a smile as he pulled his hauberk on. “Apologies, we shall join you shortly.”

* * *

The wind was blustery on the winding road leading to the Sorn interior. The first frosts had come, but the days were not yet so cold as to keep them; resulting in a muddy track in some places and a rutted frozen mess in others. The fields they passed had gone unharvested, and their grain had given way to rot or became a feast for the birds. Each cottage and hamlet they passed was deserted. Some were ransacked, others appeared to have been willing departures, but even more held festering corpses of former residents.

The Aes Sidhean knights talked and joked amongst themselves, leaving Vance and the travelers alone in the rear of the pack. Vance found it odd that they would follow and show such deference to a mere squire, but kept his mouth shut on the matter. The people of Aes Sidhe were an odd bunch, most of its population was more closely related to Dusk than Dawn. Their land was the last bastion for several creatures to escape banishment to that hated realm. At least, it had been, before that fiend opened the gate.

A signpost ahead listed the three major towns in the region. To the northeast was New Aurum, Aglaë was east, and Auld Ferrons was to the northwest. Vance motioned for Zuri to follow the road towards Auld Ferrons, but was surprised to see the knights take the road to the capitol. He gestured for Zuri to hold back and spurred his old plow horse on to meet the knights.

“Why the change in direction?”

“I do not believe we had a set itinerary, merely a final destination.” Rémann’s tone was drier than the crisp autumn air.

Vance rolled his eyes at the cryptic reply and dug his heels into Peanut’s flank in an attempt to keep pace with the Squire.

“True,” Rémann knit his brow, but kept his eyes fixed forward, “but surely we can both agree it would be madness to march to the capitol.”

“The state of this country has bothered me since we’ve arrived.”

“It’s bothered me since its inception.” Vance said with a chuckle. “But you didn’t see me riding in to prod the viper pit.”

“We shall not be ‘prodding’ anything.” Rémann retorted. “The opportunity for intelligence gathering is just far too great to pass up. I merely wish to peek Sir Jung.”

“And how many tales end with the peeker getting his eyes gouged out?”

“You are free to continue on your own path.” Rémann said stonily.

Vance spat and scanned the fields. The plains spread out in all directions like a brown sea; there was no cover and nowhere to run. He was not worried about bandits or Xanavene, as far as he could tell the country was devoid of human life, but rather it was teeming with Dusk borne. With a mumbled curse under his breath, he wheeled the old plow horse around to rejoin Leila and Zuri in the rear of the formation. It was madness to go on, but he could think of no other alternatives, there was after all strength in numbers.

* * *

They continued at a leisurely pace for several hours, and soon the dirt track gave way to cobblestone in various states of disrepair. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, and the plumes of smoke from the capitol were just visible through the glare. All idle conversation had ceased as they drew nearer, the meaning of the smoke was clear, given their experiences in the wilds of Sorn thus far. Vance wanted to turn back, but was stricken with the same morbid curiosity as Rémann. He needed to see for his own eyes what had happened.

One of the knights called out in surprise as his mount reared up and attempted to flee. The beast screamed and tried to buck its rider as his fellow knights attempted to help calm it. Vance hurried up to meet them, just in time to see a wide-eyed Rémann making the sign of the dawn. He turned to follow his gaze and his blood froze in his veins. In the windswept fields to his left, a pack of wolves did battle with a giant.

Upon a closer look, the wolves appeared to be as tall as a man with the hindquarters of a lizard. The giant stood at least twice as tall with a muscular frame. His head was that of a great horned owl, and its lower limbs were of the same. It alternated between kicks from its raptor like talons and swiping at them with its massive club.

Rémann swore and barked an order to his knights in Aes Sidhean. Three men nodded in acknowledgment and raced ashen faced back to the wagon. Vance drew his sword as Peanut danced in an agitated circle. While his arm and chest felt significantly better, he was uncertain what he could accomplish astride an elderly plow horse.

“Tend to the civilians Sir Jung.” Rémann said as he attempted to calm his horse.

“We aren’t going to engage them are we?”

“Only if we must.” Rémann steered his horse off the main road. “That thing can run, can’t it?”

“Perhaps for a mile or two.” He jerked his head back towards the wagon. “What about them? Surely you don’t think oxen can keep pace with horses.”

Rémann smiled faintly. “They are Xanavien Oxen; I’ve had a couple growing up. They’ll manage; It’s you I’m concerned for.”

He spurred his horse and took off before Vance could respond. He swore and attempted to follow suit, but his mount seemed confused by the command. He dug his heels into the horse’s sides and it took off with a startled yelp. What he was certain was the beast's fastest pace, amounted to little more than a quick trot, and Zuri and the wagon quickly overtook him. Try as he might, he could not get the old nag to pick up the pace, and it was quickly losing steam.

To his left, three of the wolves had caught their scent and broken off from the rest of the pack. As Vance was the slowest, they quickly zeroed in on him. He urged the horse on, striking its flanks with the flat of his blade and digging his heels into its side but could simply get nothing more out of it. A particularly bold and swift wolf snapped at Peanuts flank, its slobbering jaw shearing off a tuft of the old nags coat. The horse screamed and lurched forward, nearley dismounting Vance with the unanticipated burst of speed. Vance swung at the wolf with his sword as it caught up to them once more. The creature nimbly danced around all of his strikes, briefly snapping down on the blade and attempting to wrest it free from his grasp, all without missing a step. The wolf let out a sudden yelp and released his sword, having gotten too close to Peanut’s hindlegs and catching a hoof to the chin. No sooner the one backed off, another two replaced it, flanking the now tired horse. Vance was keenly aware of the sounds of labored breathing and foam forming on the horse’s mouth, and desperately searched for an alternative. A wolf snapped at the horse's flank, this time drawing blood. Vance swung again, but the horse pulled away and before the blade could connect. Vance attempted to steer the mount back into striking distance, but the terrified horse was stuck on a beeline course and too inexperienced for any tactical maneuvers.

Just when all hope seemed lost, Zuri pulled the wagon in front of him and slowed down considerably. The backdoors flung open and Leila beckoned him to jump. He vehemently shook his head and swatted at the wolves again. A third wolf managed to pounce on the horse's rear, digging fangs and claws into its rump. His mount cried out in pain and stumbled for a couple of beats as the other wolves closed in. Vance ran his sword through the eye of the unwanted passenger, and the dead beast slumped into the dirt, tripping another wolf hot on their tail. Peanut snorted and gasped, continuing its inadequate pace. Leila shouted something at him again and held out her hand.

“I can’t! It’s too far!” Vance shouted.

She called out over her shoulder and the wagon slowed further. Vance slowly crawled up onto his saddle and prepared to leap into the wagon. The scene reminded him of an old urban legend he had heard, of a Catharonian man named Mario.

Mario had attempted to clear a ravine whilst fleeing a group of bandits on his horse, Yoshi, but was coming up short. He stood up from the saddle and used the poor beast as a platform, saving his own life at the expense of the mount. He had always thought of this Mario person as a grade ‘A’ asshole, but was suddenly more sympathetic to his choice.

Without further thought, he leapt, barely grabbing onto the running boards. As he was dragged through the dirt and grass, he watched as three of the wolves took Peanut to the ground and began to devour it. The horse's eyes held a heart wrenching look of terror and betrayal, one Vance felt he would remember for the rest of his life. Leila helped pull him aboard as the third creature redoubled its efforts.

“Zuri!” Vance shouted as soon as he was safely on the floor. “Give me your crossbow!”

“It’s hanging on the wall!” he hollered back.

Vance grabbed the bow from the wall and fumbled to load a bolt into it. He took aim at the snarling creature and fired, but the bolt went wide. He cursed and reloaded as the wolf closed in on them.

“Do something!” Leila pleaded.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he snapped.

Vance tried to track the creature’s serpentine path behind them. He fired again and missed. The wagon hit a deep rut and began to fishtail wildly. He forced another bolt into place and fired blindly. Miraculously, the jostling corrected his shot and he managed to strike the creature, but failed to topple or even slow it down. Vance reached for more bolts, only to find the quiver empty. As he was searching for something heavy to throw at it, one of the Aes Sidhean’s flanked the wolf and gored it with his lance before circling back around with a slight tip of his helm. Vance returned the salute, despite the knight already having rejoined his compatriots, and plopped back with a relieved sigh. The wagon eventually slowed as they rejoined one of the branching roads headed northwest, into a small thicket of naked trees.