Chapter 9: Questions and Answers

I am very glad and relieved to be able to present this final chapter for 2013. I wrote and rewrote and revised it countless times - or so it certainly felt. At last, I now have a draft that includes all that I wanted to cover and that I am reasonably happy with. In a way, my liberal approach from the early days is now coming to haunt me. You can only put important, narrative decisions off for so long and keep your options open. I hope I made the right choices and you will enjoy the course I am setting.
Merry Christmas and a happy New Year! Thank you for following this humble narration.

She lay on her side on the soft forest floor. A canopy of vividly green leaves shielded her from the scorching summer sun. The day was hot, even in the shade. She rolled around lazily when strange sounds reached her ears: shouts of anger, howls of fear and screams of pain, accompanied by the clashing of iron. Unpleasant sounds even though they were a good way off. She perked up. The heat was not inviting her to get to her feet and investigate. The noise carried on, even seemed to rise in intensity. She got to her feet and padded wearily in the direction. Someone was evidently in great distress. She followed the sounds over rocks and through tickets. Their multitude guided her to their source like a trail. As she followed with increasing urgency the ruckus began to die down. The crashing of iron and wood had ceased and only occasionally a cry could be heard that was quickly silenced. Eventually she came to a long clearing where the ground had been trampled hard by the passing of many feet.
Bodies lay there. Men and women. Old and young. Some on their backs, some face down, sprawled in the dirt. The smell of blood and fear was overpowering, nauseating. For a few moments she stood still, aghast. Then she hurried to hide her presence because the place was not deserted. Men bearing arms went back and forth among the fallen. Here or there they would stoop to pick something up or pierce the body with their weapon. They laughed hoarsely and spoke in harsh tones to each other. Eventually, the last whimpers had been terminated. Only one sound remained: a drawn-out wail that came in bursts, rising in intensity, fading out, rising again, like water lapping on a shore. More laughter. One of the men blew into a horn and the others gathered around him. With him in the lead they set off leaving the slaughter behind.
Only when they were well out of sight she ventured forth from her hiding place. Slowly she worked her way from one body to the next. All were crumpled heaps of flesh with no life left in them and already growing cold. Eyes stared at her wide with terror or clenched shut in pain. Some bodies had been slashed open, others pierced with spears, yet others had long arrows sticking in them. Her heart constricted in her chest. Why had the other men inflicted so much suffering? Then she arrived at the origin of the one remaining sound. A woman's form lay where it had fallen. Something under the folds of her robe stirred, inhaled and let out a shrill screech. Then a hand stuck out under the cloth. A tiny hand with stubby fingers that groped helplessly. She recoiled in horror. Then overcoming her revulsion she pushed at the body. It rolled on its side easily enough revealing two small forms wrapped in lengths of white cloth. Two pairs of beady eyes looked at her through veils of tears. The two baby boys looked so much alike they had to be of the same mother born no more than a few moments apart and less than a year ago. They choked. Then another dual wail cut through the silence left behind by the passing of death. She gazed around helplessly. There had to be someone left that would take care of the babies. She frantically checked the remaining bodies but none were breathing. Back and forth she paced furiously. Why, why, why? Slay all adults and then leave two babes to wretchedly perish in a field of corpses! Maybe someone would come along and help? She waited. Nobody came. Standing over the pair she looked down into their desperate eyes and felt lost. Carefully she gathered them up and hugged them tight, cradled them, hummed a soothing song. It took a long time to hush their terror and sorrow and she was still holding them pressed against her breast long after that.
Thus the afternoon passed but still nobody showed up. Only flies swarmed in and began their dirty work. She carried the babies away from the gruesome scene but remained alert. Yet no inquisitive shouts rang out, no parties of men came running to collect survivors of the massacre. As evening set on the boys grew hungry and raised another great cry. She pulled away her dress exposing her breast. Then she gently guided the little mouths until they knew what to do. She still had milk. They drank thirstily. The first one burped in contentment as they sat and looked up at her expectantly. Would this be enough until maybe their kinsmen came searching for them? She would wait with them here to see them safely taken care of. In the waning light she studied their features. What might their names be?
As night came the two shivered and cried again. She dug a shallow pit, padded it with twigs and grass and moss and there shielded them and warmed them with her own body. The night passed slowly and the babies were restless.
The next day wore on. She fed the brothers and they waited. Yet nobody came. She was growing hungry herself. If they remained here there was very little she could do.
Finally, at dawn of the second day she gathered up the brothers and carried them away into the forest. She knew a safe place for them.
Time passed. Never did anybody come looking for two lost children or to avenge the deaths of the men and women. Grass grew over the site of the slaughter as the skeletons withered. She remained alert but she never saw or heard anybody. At the same time she grew to love the boys. Their pranks and affections filled her heart with joy. When they spoke their first words and called her 'mother' she let them and was glad. Never, though, did she speak of the circumstance of their finding lest their misfortune return back to haunt them.
Over time she taught them what she knew about the forest and its denizens. Rabbits and deer were for hunting. Squirrels and birds were fun to chase. Wolves were cunning and fierce. Bears and oxen were strong. She taught them the names of the trees that grew tall and of the shrubs that crowded the ground. She told them about their effects, which were poisonous and which could restore good health. And she revealed to them the hidden paths and how to follow them.
Over time the boys grew strong of muscle and keen of wit. They continued calling her mother but their voices deepened and when they called out to her their throats raised a mighty roar.
That was the time when they came upon other men. It had been so many years that she, their mother, had nearly forgotten where they had come from. She certainly had not expected to see any more men to come their way. The boys were curious and against all their mother's warnings they went to see. Long they watched unseen from eaves of the forest as the strangers made camp. They were armed but looked more fearful than fierce. They jumped at every noise the forest made and kept their fires burning high all through the night.
"We must help them", the shorter of the boys said.
Their mother shook her head vehemently. They did not know who these people were. Their weapons and harsh voices worried her. But at this the two brothers laughed heartily.
"They may have their weapons but look: they are families, too", the other boy said with a confident smile. "They are here to seek refuge, not to fight. Worst comes to worst, we have our wit. We are strong and swift. We will protect you, mother, you and our kin."
The strangers' faces turned pale when the youths and their mother stepped out of the forest. Standing there naked, with their broad breasts and taught muscles, tall and unafraid the youths looked like the gods of men made manifest. When they heard the brothers speak the tongue of the ancients the strangers bowed low and offered them food and lodging. The brothers, however, would have none of it. With kind smiles they asked for what troubled these people.
"Bandits", the answer came. "Feral men that have no gods and no kindness or decency in their hearts. They hunt us and wish to take from us what little we have left."
Then the brothers held council with their mother. She was fearful and urged them not to get involved. All too well did she remember what she had witnessed that fateful day. She told them the secret she had kept buried for so long and warned them of the cruelness of war. Fury burning high in his heart the taller brother shouted: "Now is not the time for cowering! At last we have the chance to avenge our kin!"
The shorter, who had listened with more sympathy added: "Be not afraid but open your heart, mother. Do you wish these folk to suffer the same fate as those we once belonged to? These here are as helpless and sure to die at the hands of their enemies."
So their mother was convinced and issued a call to her kinsmen that lived scattered around the forested hills and up in the mountains. Many came for they had also met the bandits and knew their vile ways. Together with the strangers they made a formidable force.
Soon the day came that their enemies were upon them. Newly armed and trained in the ways of axe and spear the brothers led their force into battle. The taller of the brothers charged forth in the first onslaught and could be seen in the midst of the fray hacking and stabbing at his opponents. His brother brought up the rear and used the knowledge his mother had imparted to tend the wounded. By noon that day the woods were littered with the bodies of the slain bandits. Those few who were not killed took to their heels and fled back the way they had come, spreading news that here gods walked among men.
The brothers meanwhile were celebrated as heroes among the people. Their mother and her kin were offered rewards as rich as people could afford to give. But she bowed in the fashion of these new people and declined. The return of peace was enough reward for them. In the privacy of her own mind she hoped the strangers would now move on and leave be her and her boys. The brothers, however, led by curiosity and wonder at these people, generously invited the strangers to stay. As plans for a settlement were drawn up both youths were offered land, a share of the herds and a wife from among the most beautiful of their daughters. The taller of the brothers who had proven his valour in the battle they offered to make their new leader and king.
At this their mother shook her wizened head. This life was not for them. "My sons", she told them, "these people are kind and seem to have honest intentions. Yet we know so little about them. They have been humble so far since they had no home. Now that they do they may prove different. First we should learn their ways before we can hope to guide their fate."
Over this, for the first time in their lives, the brothers were in disagreement. The shorter, ever deferring their mother's judgement, resolved to live near but not among the newcomers. The taller, however, proud of the victory that was his and the adoration of the people, refused.
He said: "What can we hope to learn if we continue to live in the wild? These people are our real kinsmen. Now they are like seeds in a fresh patch of earth. If fostered with care they may grow into strong and straight trees. If left unattended weeds may grow among them and they may not see their first bloom."
His brother grew cross at these pretentious words. He countered: "Who will know the weeds from the saplings? We, brother? Who are we to be judge of men? In their midst we are but saplings ourselves."
"How could the same mother bring forth such a timid soul", his brother taunted. "Have we not been taught well? Do you doubt our teacher?"
A deep frown furrowed the shorter brother's handsome features.
"I know only what I know, brother. I trust that our mother is wise and has her reasons to caution us."
"She may be afraid of the burden to lead", the tall youth spoke haughtily, "she has long forsaken such responsibility but I will not. I will see these people build a safe haven and my sons and daughters will see them prosper."
At this their mother shook her head sadly but let him go. The taller brother took as a wife the daughter of the previous leader himself and a great house was built for the couple. More and more houses were constructed in the bend of a snaking river and a wall of wooden poles erected around them. Solemnly, the settlement was named after its new ruler. The shorter brother, however, lived as a commoner on the outskirts of the town with their mother and some of her kin.
Years passed and invaders came with greater force. Once more the brothers united against them and raised their mother's kin. A great battle was fought on the banks of the river just outside the town gates. Once more the enemy was routed and a few were left alive to spread the word. They told great tales among their people about a town where the people of the forest and of the plains had united in peace, a town whose walls were insurmountable and where a living god ruled over the commoners.
Soon those same feral people came not with weapons but with gifts of tribute: loot from their other raids, crops and slaves. At first the king chastised them and turned their ill begotten gifts away. Soon the other town elders prevailed upon him to accept as the tribute would increase the town's wealth handsomely. Finally, he succumbed to them and caravans came bearing food, precious stones and metals; and slaves: strong, able-bodied men and beautiful women. The best of all the king was allowed to claim for himself. And his heart grew hard and his mind avaricious.
With its wealth, so the town grew. More wood was cut in the forests around it and roads were cleared to quarry stone from the mountains' flanks. The mother, now old and bent, watched all of this with growing concern and sadness. Downstream from the town the waters of the river had turned smelly and unfit to drink. Where game had formerly been abundant her people now had to travel far to find it. More and more often they came in conflict with the town's hunters over a carcass. But most of all, she rued her son's part in all this. She spoke of these worries with his brother, who stayed with her. She was too old and weak reach the palace herself.
Thus after many seasons the brothers came face to face again on the walls of the town that had now been built of stone. One was almost naked, dressed only in what the townsfolk considered essential to cover his nudity. The other adorned in regal attire in fine colours and soft robes, golden bands on his fingers. At length the shorter one spoke of their mother's troubles, of what he had seen walking outside the town. He implored his brother to keep the townsfolk in check and control their hunger; and not to scorn their mother any longer.
His brother, however, raised his voice in anger: "My mother died on that battlefield long ago. What do you or this one know of the weight I bear? You go on living your simple, savage life in which none of your decisions carry any weight at all. Me, I have loaded upon my shoulders all the hopes and dreams of our kin. Tell me what matters, brother."
"Forget not those kin that raised us, fed us, gave us love and protection when we were sure to die", his brother reminded him still with gentleness in his voice.
The taller man cut him off with a swipe of the hand. "They have chosen their own leaders, not me. Let those leaders worry about them. Have they not always expected us to return here? See how well I fare now. My strength has protected this town in times of war, my wisdom has made it rich in times of peace. I have a beautiful wife who will bear me healthy children. I have as much food as I could ever eat. Men bow to me and women worship me."
At this, his brother firmly set his jaw and scowled.
"It was our strength and that of our people that protected them in battle. Our blood ran so theirs did not have to and our knowledge saved those that would have otherwise perished. And what made them rich was their own greed spoken through your mouth. Mother warned us of them and I remember well your talk of saplings."
Listening the king's face had turned into a mask of obstinate rage. He shouted furiously: "You are jealous, brother, jealous as you have always been since the time we were children. You cannot stand what I have achieved. Where were you in the heat of battle when blows rained down on my shield? Where were you when I had to make tough decisions with only my conscience to guide me? You cannot stand that I made the right choices and have prospered while you still suck on your mother's tit!"
With a loud slap the shorter man struck his brother across the face. When the taller man recovered a thin trickle of blood was running from his mouth. He spat in disgust.
The short man's voice was quivering when he spoke. "How dare you insult me thus?! I have always loved and admired you, brother, but it breaks my heart to see how sad mother is at what you have become."
"Mother", the king scoffed, "is that still what you call her? She has ever been the small-minded one. Should she not be proud that at least one of her sons has outgrown her? Is that why she sent you? Because of her petty jealousy? Should we remain feral all our lives because she had not the sense to strive for more? Small wonder she walks on four legs!"
Tears now filled his brothers eyes. Both hands balled into fists but he did not strike again. "How can you speak of mother that way? She has loved us both equally. But it is you she worries about the most even as remote as you are to her."
"The old bitch worries about what her simple mind does not comprehend. She and her people may know the forest and their beasts and shrubs but this is not their world any more. It's mine. Mine! It is them who close the door. I do not shut them out. They are free to come and live with us as subjects."
"Is that how you view your former home now, brother?" His lip crinkled in disgust. "You would have us come and live with you like your sheep or your cows?"
The king smiled, ignoring the blueish swelling that was forming around the corner of his mouth. He spread his arms wide in a magnanimous gesture.
"Why not? I have built an invincible city. My former enemies now come crawling at my feet. Who would dare assail us now? Only a fool would prefer living exposed in the wild."
The common man shook his head in disbelief.
"You have gone mad. Nothing is invincible, not even this monster of wood and stone you have constructed here."
At this the king laughed long and full of disdain.
"Is that so, little brother? Is that what your ignorant mother has led you to believe? Then you would be the first fool to die on these walls."
The shorter man clenched his jaw, swallowing fresh tears.
"I curse the people that have spoilt you thus, brother. I curse them for poisoning our love. I curse your arrogance and your blindness. And most of all I curse these walls!"
With that he vaulted up and over and was gone.

"No!"
Joana awoke with a cry. Wide-eyed but unseeing she bolted upright. Her head spun and her heart was pounding. She could feel the life extinguished, slipping through her fingers like sand. It was dark all around, dark and silent as Muspelheim itself. Where was she? Then she noticed a weak glow. The dying embers of a fire right beside her that made a last effort to drive back the darkness. Their warmth had already died. A bulky shadow stirred on the far side, rose and shuffled up to her with heavy steps. There was the rustling of heavy cloth. With a gasp she fumbled in the darkness for anything that might serve as a weapon. Her blind hands only found moss and twigs and leaves. A pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders and gently but firmly pushed her down. She moaned desperately.
"Rest", Toben's voice grunted. It sounded nasal. "You are safe."
She relaxed a little and let her breathing calm down.
"You..."
"I shall keep watch while you sleep", he said, "don't worry." He sounded weary himself. She thought she could see his eyes twinkle in the darkness where his voice was coming from.
Joana closed her eyes. Her body felt miles away but the vertigo had subsided.
"Where's Vucara?" Curious how quickly she had got accustomed to the beast's presence.
There was a confused silence.
"The wolf, my friend-" Drowsily she tried to think of what might make her canine companion stand out to the young warrior.
"Your friend is about here somewhere." He hesitated. "She ... says she will be back when it grows light."
"Is she hurt?"
There was a faint impatient sigh of one not used to being questioned. "She is fine. A little singed, a few cuts, nothing that will not heal."
That stung. She owed the wolf ever more and she was not sure she could fulfil that great destiny the creature had foretold - expected even. Would the wolf still be her friend if she, the Speaker, failed?
Toben tugged at the furs that covered her. Rising to his feet again he continued: "Rest now. You have done enough to last a few days."
He set himself down on the other side of the fire with a thud. The ashes flared up at he poked at them. A faint wave of warmth brushed over Joana's face. A comfortable heaviness spread throughout her limbs. It seemed the first time in a long while that she felt safe. Was it the presence of this young warrior that made her feel that way? She still wanted to say something but her thoughts were slow as if trudging through thick mud. Before she could resolve to open her mouth sleep had already overcome her again.

She stood on flat ground surrounded by lofty mountain peaks. Before her the enormous cave entrance gaped empty and black. Off to her right the sinking sun was dipping the snowy summits in molten gold. The first stars glinted where the sky darkened. Where she was standing felt nearly close enough to touch the dome of the heavens.
She was wearing a richly decorated dress of white wool that shielded her somewhat against the chill of the wind that tugged at her constantly. Her feet were nestled in soft, high shoes of leather. And around her neck, she discovered a wreath of flowers as thick as her arm.
When she turned back to the cave entrance the unicorn was standing there. It was studying her silently out of eyes as black as jet. The beast was smaller than she had thought, shorter than a horse and much more slender of limb. Was this fragile creature not said to perform amazing feats of strength? How had it covered the distance from the cave entrance to here without a single noise? Had she been so distracted? Then another thought crept up on her: was she not here to meet somebody - something - else? What were those words she was supposed to speak?
The unicorn stared at her unmovingly. Its eyes were like murky pools she could easily sink into. But the waters were treacherous and there was no telling whether she would be able to climb out again.
A voice cut through her confusion: "So you have come."
She was still speechless. The eyes seemed to suck her in. The words, she had to remember the words.
"I know why you are here." It was familiar, that voice.
She also knew. She would certainly not have climbed all the way up here without knowing why. She just could not think of it right now.
"I have been waiting all your life for you to make your way here to me." The creature's mouth was not moving yet she heard the words ring out clearly.
Still confused she uttered the first words that came into her head: "I am here to fulfil my purpose and-"
"- and honour the age-old tradition, yes." The unicorn's voice was gentle and soothing like the purring of a cat. "We may dispense with the etiquette, I believe. There is nobody here but us."
"You live here all by yourself..." The unicorn made no reply but there was confirmation in its silence. "What do you do here?"
The unicorn trotted past her and stood at the edge of the cliff gazing out across the landscape that panned out before it. Joana hesitated a moment, then followed.
"I watch over the lands in my care", the unicorn announced. "I care for every beast and bird, every tree and shrub. I love them all."
Joana let her eyes wander. This far up the mountains were nearly barren. Bare rocks stretched towards the sky and only few things of green had taken hold. Further down the sharp edges were blurred by clumps of bushes and high weeds. Then the ground began to rise again. Between the peaks a deep cut valley was swathed in the boughs of trees that nodded in the breeze. She could just make out some birds riding the high winds. She imagined deer flitting between the trees, squirrels rushing up and down the trunks, a lynx prowling. It was easy to see how one could love all that. She was home and she loved it. But had it not also existed since the titans had made it? Did it need caring for even by this powerful creature? And what could she possibly offer?
"What comes now", she inquired. "What do I do?"
When the unicorn replied she suddenly and painfully recognised the voice. It was that of her mother.
It said: "You are the Speaker. You make the sacrifice."

Mother!
Joana awoke with a gasp. Her hands immediately fumbled for the delicate band of gold that mother had worn. She found it on her right fore-finger. Relaxing with relief she sank back down.
"I have not stolen it", came a voice. Wearily she cast open her eyes again. Grey light filtered through a canopy of leaves in their full autumn splendour. Toben was sitting wrapped in a cloak opposite her across a fire that had all but died. He grinned mockingly but Joana's head was still pounding and she overheard the comment altogether.
It was slowly coming to her that she was lying on a bed of moss and leaves. On top of her were piled several large furs that covered her down to her toes. Despite Toben's relaxed posture he had a sword across his lap. A bow and a quiver of arrows leaned against a tree next to him. Their camp was set up on a flat patch of earth between the trees. The forest stretched on to the edge of visibility in all directions. There was nobody else in sight. Judging by the light and the chill it had to be early morning. Dew was glistening on blades of grass and fallen leaves.
Joana sat up with a grunt. Her whole body was stiff as if she had lain cramped in one position all night. A large black bird fluttered from her lap to the ground. One wing was cocked in an awkward position and it spun, landing on its side. Flexing her shoulders Joana gathered it up. It gazed up at her out of beady eyes.
Studying the small creature Joana mumbled absently: "Where am I?"
The prince shrugged under the cloak.
"Some days' walk north and west of Tramir. We travelled at night. But your friend assures me this."
The girl blinked. "My ... friend?" She looked down at the bird but it did not utter a sound. It's wing seemed broken and was quivering. For a moment the faces of people that might come to find her flashed in front of her mind's eye. There were not many left.
"The wolf." Toben's voice betrayed he was not comfortable with the thought.
"Vucara. Where is she?"
A hand appeared from under the cloak and made a vague gesture.
"She is around. She-" He hesitated for a heartbeat before uttering the word. "-said something about looking for the others. That was yester-eve."
Joana's heart was heavy again. How many wolves had met their demise that evening? The whole pack wiped out? Scattered? Driven from their territory? All on her account. Her thumb felt the smooth surface of mother's ring twisting it back and forth. Was this worth it?
"How is she?"
The prince shrugged again, then he sighed and replied: "She is well. Scratched. Singed. Walks with a limp." Then after a moment he added with a note of wonder in his voice: "She has a will that would rival the greatest of paladins."
Joana imagined the scars the old wolf was amassing in her chosen service. And then she felt that pressure again when she remembered what Vucara had said, why she was doing it. Nothing less than to change the destiny of her entire people, of all the peoples even. That alone was enough to make your head spin. Was this how the king might feel when the men in his service suffered and died? The girl grimaced, massaging the pain behind her eyes. Just then her stomach growled like a wild animal.
Toben laughed loudly, a good humoured, full bodied laugh. One that made her smile, too - just for a moment. It seemed she had not heard such a sound in for ages.
"Somebody is hungry like the proverbial wolf." Toben stretched. The cloak slipped off his shoulders and formed a crumpled ring around him. He reached around into a sack. A bundle of cloth landed on the girl's lap. The bird hopped aside with a squeak. She pulled the bundle apart. It turned out to be a pair of strong breeches, a woolen shirt and a pair of leather shoes. He returned her questioning stare with a grin.
"Your old clothes are rags hardly fit for a beggar. A dress would look more fetching but this will serve you better out here. I have a cloak for you, as well. Put this on, then we shall eat." Toben got up, turned his back and walked off. "I'll be nearby in case you ... need help." He chuckled again.
Joana rolled her eyes. That had been the last thing on her mind. When he was out of sight she lifted the furs. There was a certain relief to see she was still dressed. Toben had been right, though. Her clothes were an ill fit. By now they were torn and smeared with everything from dirt to blood.
"No peeking", she commanded in as firm a voice as she could muster. "Sing something so I know where you are."
"A skinny thing like you", came the answer with another laugh from a good way off, "what's there to peek at?"
She slipped out of shirt and breeches and stood on uncertain feet, naked and shivering. "Who's skinny", she had wanted to retort. Then she looked down at herself and discovered that he was not as wrong as she would have had it. She had never been fat but now even the last soft curves had disappeared. Despite his words Toben began to recite a song popular with his people. In long, drawn-out vowels he sang of a brave warrior who encountered a troll that promptly tried to seduce him. Joana frowned absent-mindedly. The girl was gingerly examining her old and fresh bruises, cuts and scrapes. After all she had been through it was a miracle she not sustained anything more serious than that. It was not a miracle that none of them had become infected. Dried pulp was still sticking to some of them. Vucara's medicine. Nonetheless, her body looked colourful as a rainbow. She stretched again. The ache in her joints and back made her feel a generation older. If only there had been water to wash with! After taking stock Joana pulled on the new set of garments. The fit was probably for a young lad but surprisingly good.
She was tightening the laces on her new shoes, ancle-high boots, when Toben reappeared. From the same sack the prince produced bread, some dried meat, a lump of coarse cheese and a few apples. On top, he pulled out a sheep skin with fresh water. They ate without even exchanging glances. Joana was amazed at how ravenous she was. Toben only took a little and then proceeded to watch her gobble down the rest. Eventually he warned her to slow down.
"You have gone without for a while", he explained.
Joana nodded, speaking with her mouth full: "That's right. The breakfast they gave me last morning was meagre at best."
The young man looked at her gravely. "That was three nights ago, little lady."
She gaped, forgetting her full mouth. Then: "Impossible! I wasn't ill or hurt. How could I be out that long?"
"I was worried that treacherous snake had poisoned you but your friend says it's only exhaustion."
The girl digested this. She had been exhausted but to be out this long... Could there have been poisoning? She was certainly alive now, was she not? The events of that night were still no more than a blur, like one of the many dreams she had had. Only the marks on her body reminded her it had been very real. Still chewing on her last bites she queried him what had happened. The prince and his men had appeared out of nowhere, then things had happened so fast.
Toben shrugged his shoulders.
"Remember the hounds? They must have had some scrap of your clothing." At some point - the prince could not recall the exact moment - Grimrun had turned up with more men. He had warned them of the wolves. He had then coordinated the assault on the pack. Apparently none were to escape alive. Joana bit her lip. Her enemy's cold-bloodedness made her furious. A force of men and hounds had then charged the pack. The prince had stayed behind. It had been his suspicion of Grimrun that had made him watch the sorcerer closely. Thus he had noticed him giving orders to a group of "dwarfs" who had then headed off in a different direction. Toben and his men had followed but soon lost sight of them.
"Then we heard you shouting and hurried your way. Next we knew, Helmut ran into you. The rest you know."
The young warrior fell silent. Joana's thoughts were working in her head. How had Grimrun found her? The warrior could not answer. The sorcerer had seemed to know where to look. A premonition was growing in her heart.
"Did you see a bird?" Toben did not recall one. After a while the girl shook off the dark thoughts.
"How did we get here then?"
He jerked his thumb at a crude device on the ground behind him. Several strong boughs had been tied together to form an oblong frame with two ends sticking out like handles. A mesh of slender branches and string filled the frame.
"No matter how many stones I ran you over you never woke up." Again that wide grin. "How do you feel now?"
She rubbed her aching back. "Sore", she managed lamely.
"Well, I am not dragging you any further. From now on you can walk by yourself. Eat up, we should get going." He began gathering up the furs and rolling them into bundles.
Joana was more and more bewildered. "Going? Where?"
He hardly looked up but the prince's reply was resolute: "To my father's court. These people have openly rebelled against his authority and I believe this Grimrun is planning much worse. The king needs to hear of this. And you are going to report to him."
"What?!" Joana was on her feet staring at the man. "I can't go there."
"You sure look able."
She stuttered: "I-I mean I cannot go. It's not safe." Her mind was racing. Would the prince drag her away from her target?
"You mean", came the sober reply, "not as safe as hiding in the woods, letting your enemy recover and waiting until he hunts you down again?"
Joana glared, clenching her fist. "This time I'll be doing the hunting."
Toben stared at her incredulously. Throwing his arms wide he asked: "You ... and what army?"
She knew his objections were valid but now her pride was stung. Another man treating her as a little girl.
"I am not fighting alone", she returned.
"You mean your four-legged friends?" He gestured vaguely in an off direction. "They are not warriors."
"You said Vucara had a will like a warrior", Joana returned.
Toben rolled his eyes. "The will and spirit make one fight but without skill in the craft of war they would just get slaughtered."
"Vucara and the wolves fought fiercely enough. We almost had him last time. If your warriors had lasted a little longer Grimrun might be ours now."
He snorted. "Oh, so that was your master plan? I'm impressed. Look what a great success it turned out to be."
Joana made no reply. Images were flashing before her eyes. Visions of fire and blood, scorched fur, pierced hides, broken bodies lying on the ground. She hated him for bringing this back. But there was also a timid voice in back of her head reminding her that he was right.
He stood there for a moment pushing his fists into his sides, then he went on in more conciliatory tones: "I understand your wish to avenge your mother-"
She interrupted him fiercely: "You understand?! Have you lost your mother and everyone that you loved or even knew to cowardly murderers? Without a warning? Without protection?" Her voice rose to a scream. Suddenly she was fighting back tears both of rage and sorrow. "Where were your precious warriors then?!"
"Do you think you are the only one suffering", Toben burst out in rising anger. "Do you even know how many villages suffered the same fate as yours? How many were slain with no chance to take up arms? And you think that does not weigh upon me?"
Joana was not listening. "It is the king's duty to protect his subjects", she spat.
"I know that", the prince snapped back. "I have never neglected my duty - nor forgotten it!"
"You know shit about me!" She turned away and flopped down on her bed of moss.
Toben let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Maybe I do know ... shit about you. Then let me tell you of something I do know about: the craft of war. Your enemy is beaten, yes, but he is far from defeated." He was next to her now, squatting. When she refused to look at him his hand found her arms and pulled her around. Angrily she struggled to push him away but his grip was strong and unyielding. She let herself go limp but still refused to raise her gaze to meet his. Staring at her intently he spoke into her face, emphasising important points with a gentle shake: "So far you have stumbled from one fight into the next, from trap into ambush. Twice now you have barely avoided or escaped captivity. The reason you are not captured or dead is the good grace of the gods." Joana opened her mouth to object but Toben silenced her with a gesture and kept talking. "You have been lucky that your enemies have repeatedly and vastly underestimated your will to be free and avenge your loved ones and your resources - your allies. How long do you think it will take him to send a stealthy henchman to have you bound and carried away and thrown in a deep, dark hole with no more animals to talk to - or quickly and silently murdered in your sleep?"
"Let the Speaker go!"
They spun around at the same time. That moment three wolves bounded from the bushes. Vucara was in point position. While their leader made a bee line ahead the other two fanned out to either side. They came to a halt with Toben in their focal point from three directions, teeth bared, ready to pounce.
The old wolf wasted no time. "We heard raised voices, Speaker. What happened?" Her voice was hard as iron.
Joana wiped her eyes and sniffed before looking up. Toben had released her at the last moment. Now his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. She could sense the tension. He was determined to go down fighting.
"Don't do anything stupid", she hissed at him in human language. "They would have torn you apart if they had wanted to."
Raising her voice she switched back to True Speech: "Prince Toben and I had a disagreement." She hoped Vucara would not recognise the hoarseness of tears. "I am not in danger." The wolves let Joana explain. Toben did not interrupt her. Only when she had ended the wolves relaxed a little. At Vucara's command her escort retreated some paces to keep watch.
The old wolf sniffed at Joana's injuries, then inquired how she was feeling. Satisfied that all cuts and bruises were healing well she let herself down on her haunches. The care the wolf showed her almost let Joana forget what the beast had said about her reasons. It almost felt like having a mother again. She almost wanted to be a little girl once more and loose herself in those faithful amber eyes. Almost.
Then Vucara began to recount. The wolf had spent the last days gathering together the scattered survivors of the blaze and the battle. There were not many. Wailach had been slain by spears and arrows after himself beating to death several of Grimrun's henchmen. Trapped between the fire and the attackers many of the wolves had been slain. Some had escaped only to be found now in snares and beaten to death. The wolf had found the creatures of the forest much more shy than usual. It had taken a while to learn the sinister reason, that men with arrows, whose touch alone was enough to kill, were roaming the forest slaying any strong and fierce creature they encountered. Vucara had come upon a pair and ended them but another two wolves had lain dead after the skirmish.
Three nights ago the surviving attackers had, it seemed, made it back to their horses. The elder wolf had attempted to track Grimrun herself but his scent was lost among the ashes of the blaze. The few surviving dwarfs had fled through the stream and thus masked their retreat. The bird beside her chirped hoarsely. It was looking up at them.
Joana frowned. "What about this bird?"
"Yes, that blackbird is a peculiar one", the wolf replied thoughtfully. "I found it on the ground next to you with blood on its beak and both its wings broken. It will never fly again, yet it clings to life with surprising stubbornness. It seems unable to speak but also unwilling to leave your side."
"You think this is the creature that attacked Grimrun?"
The wolf's tail twitched. "His smell is all over the bird."
"But it doesn't talk at all? Isn't that strange? Didn't you say that all creatures can utter True Speech?"
"All creatures can but many have forgotten how", the wolf corrected. "Consider the dogs in Tramir. I do remember one blackbird with a particular interest in you though." The wolf looked at her expectantly.
Where had they encountered a blackbird that didn't speak? "Is this the bird we found in Tramir?"
Vucara cocked her head. "I believe it is that very one though I do not recall its smell with certainty."
"What does this mean?"
"It means", the old wolf said gravely, "that you are beginning to attract followers from every realm of beings. They feel that a new power is rising that may unite the realms once again."
"Hold on", Toben interrupted incredulously, "what in Midgard is this wolf talking about? Realms? New power? Unite??"
Joana hesitated but the prince knew too much already. And he had had ample time to take advantage of her unconsciousness had he been a servant of the enemy. So she related to him what Vucara thought to be true and the things Ebek had told her. The prince listened with widening eyes. But there was also doubt written on his features.
Presently he ventured: "This wolf believes you will change the world? And you trust it?"
The girl, the Speaker, nodded. Then she shook her head. Finally, she shrugged.
"I wish I knew", she now replied in human language. "I have no reason to mistrust her. It all rings true considering what has happened. Just what her stakes are I have no idea. I also think that there is more she is not telling me."
"It's not like you are spoiled for allies", he murmured.
"Grimrun is punishing everyone that has helped me." Joana sighed.
Toben grimaced in contempt. "This has nothing to do with punishment. I told you this is war. He is trying to sow fear. Fear that helping you will mean destruction. At the same time he scatters your allies and cuts them down where he can. I once heard the Romans used similar tactics."
He froze in mid-thought, his eyes wide again. Then he began to tell how three outlying villages - like Kremitz - had been raided and burned to the ground by unknown attackers. They came in the night, on horseback, masked and heavily armed. People told incoherent tales and everyone seemed to have their own theory of who the attackers were. The old foe, the riders from the far eastern plains. Skirmishers sent by the Roman Emperor. Slavs from the north trying to expand their territory. Warriors sent by the king had only found burnt ground and corpses. Several parties had not returned.
Joana listened unable to fight the growing sense of foreboding. 'The craft of war' the prince had said. She had wanted to laugh up his portentous talk. It turned out he had been closer to the truth than he himself had probably thought at the time.
"Suppose this is all him." The prince was on his feet gesturing excitedly. Vucara and the other wolves were watching him warily. "We - the king - sent scouts and emissaries abroad but the foe was in our midst all the while. Chipping away at us from within. He is using the same tactics on your animal friends as he does on men."
"What would he want to do that for?" She had the uncomfortable feeling she already knew the answer and did not like it.
Toben made a vague gesture but continued with certainty: "He is wearing down people's resolve, destroying their morale."
When the girl gave him a blank look he added: "So they will not fight back."
Something in her head still refused to grasp what he was trying to say. "You mean ..." She could not bring herself to utter the word.
"War." The single word rang out like a distant drum. Joana shivered. The world she had known had turned into an ever more terrifying nightmare that she could not seem to wake up from.
"If you are right then what does he want me for?" Her voice was small, a little girl's.
The prince fell silent regarding her now almost pitifully.
"This Grimrun, is an abomination. With his unnatural powers he can bend the world itself, and with a word alone he seems to hold sway over all men." He paused, looking her in the eyes meaningfully. "Except you. I saw you resist his will when my own failed. I think you, little lady, may well be the only one able to stand in his way."
For a few heartbeats she stared at him in wide-eyed amazement.
Eventually she stammered: "You can't be serious!"
He couldn't be! Toben made no reply. She was no warrior, no sorceress, even her new abilities she had only discovered recently. She had had a hard time staying alive until now as is stood. Suddenly everyone thought she was destined to be some legendary heroine.
The girl shook her head. "Impossible. There must be others."
Now the prince frowned. "So far Grimrun only seems to take you seriously. And I cannot claim I have met anybody like you."
Joana studied him. There was not the slightest hint of mirth in his features this time. Instead there was a gravity that silenced her doubt.
Holding tightly onto mother's ring, she asked: "Do you think he can be stopped?"
The prince stroked his beard. "It will not be so easy", he stated. "Our last fight caught him off guard. He will not give us that opportunity again. Our next move must be decisive. So we make our way to the court of my father, Baldrik King. You give your account of what has happened, that Grimrun was there at the burning of your village." He paused to indulge in a grim smile. "We raise a thousand spears. Then we bring down Týr's mailed fist on the traitor and his stronghold." He smacked his own right fist into the palm of his other hand. "Hopefully, that way we will quench the fires of war before they burn any higher."
"We?"
He nodded. "Of course. You must be there. Without you that abomination would work us like puppets."
Joana set her jaw. Her heart was hammering away fiercely and her hands clasped around mother's ring. What Toben said terrified her but also, for the first time in weeks, it suggested there was hope.

Vucara listened patiently as Joana explained to her what they proposed to do. As it turned out, there was more Joana had yet to hear.
That very night the wolf had also received news from her pack's territory and the lands Joana knew. All spoke of the same: hunters scouring the forest in groups. They used poisoned arrows, uncanny stealth and crazed dogs to drive all creatures with claws or fangs out of their hiding places. The wolves, bears or boars they could find were brought down indiscriminately. Trained birds circled the skies and surveyed the ground with their keen eyes. Traps had been laid that snared the unwary creature - to be left to die or slain later.
Joana hardly dared to ask about the creatures she had met only weeks before. Helplessly clenching her fists, she listened as the wolf related how Irkshu, the fierce leader of the boars, and his pack had fought several violent battles. They were rumoured to be dead. Murmarn the bear, word further had it, had retreated toward the mountains with others of his kind. There, where the terrain was treacherous and the coming winter cold, he hoped to evade his pursuers. Alefa had lost several members of the pack. They had had to abandon their cave hideout. He was calling Vucara to return.
"Your companion is correct, Speaker", the elder wolf ended her discourse. "You are not safe in the woodlands any longer."
Joana slumped down on a fallen tree trunk and buried her face in her palms. Toben was pacing behind her. She looked up at him.
"What do we do?"
The prince gave a weary sigh. He searched to meet her gaze. Pronouncing syllables carefully and gesturing to mark his points, he responded: "We carry out our plan the way we said we would. The swifter we do so, the swifter we take out this spawn of Loki, the sooner you and your friends will have your peace."
She gaped at him. "You cannot be telling me to leave them."
He swept the remark aside with his hand. "I could command you to but if you honour what they died for you will do what is necessary. They fight because they believe in you as this Chosen One who will 'unite the realms'. It would take us days to reach them. And even when we do we would be fighting a few hunters hidden away in the forest. Her pack may well be dead by then. Or they may have defeated Grimrun's henchmen. Either way it is a waste of our time and energy."
His words raised a fury in her. Defiance seemed to seethe. However, there was no denying his ruthless logic. Her mind was racing, searching for a reply when Vucara interrupted.
"It is too far to reach them in time. Alefa has more cunning than meets the eye. I trust he will keep the others safe. I will remain with you."
Joana gazed from the wolf to the man and back. Her hand was absently fiddling with mother's ring again. Toben nodded in agreement.
"Enough", she said firmly. "I will not disregard the fate of those that saved my life, whether they walk on two feet or on four."
Toben took a deep breath. The objection was clearly visible on his features. Joana motioned for him to wait and continued. This time, to her surprise, the prince closed his mouth and listened. She swallowed. Suddenly her mouth was dry.
"If we cannot save them by bringing down the hunters then we will take them along - out of reach of the hunters. If they still lack guidance in how to deal with humans then we will give them that guidance. At the same time it is their keen senses and instincts that will keep us safe." Am I the chosen one, she wondered. Is this what Vucara wants me to do? And do I do it only because she believes I can? At the same time she spoke on. Words suddenly flowed from her. "This fight now is for their lives and land as much as ours." Turning to the prince: "You raise your army and I raise mine. They may not have a warrior's discipline but they fight valiantly. Where warriors bear arms of iron they are silent and quick. Where they are vulnerable your warriors wear armour. When your warriors are blind in the night they see and hear more. Where your warriors have succumbed to Grimrun's will they have resisted. Their presence alone will terrify our enemies while the warriors shields will keep them safe. We will fight together. And they are living proof that I do not lie."
Silence fell over the forest when she had ended. The wolf was the first to object.
"We will pass the territory of other packs. They may not approve of our presence."
"I will speak on your behalf and tell them what has befallen", Joana answered firmly, "our enemy's henchmen kill without distinction. Their lives are as much in danger and they must be told."
"What about mistrust of men", Toben joined in. "Grimrun sows fear and mistrust of the creatures of the wild. Even at the best of times nobody would suffer a wolf within their settlement."
Joana shook her head. "Men may have turned against us like the ones in Tramir. We do not know how far Grimrun's power reaches. We should avoid settlements at much as possible."
"We will be much easier to spot by Grimrun's spies if we travel with a large company", the young man persisted.
"Grimrun has more cunning and elusive spies than those on the road. How else could he have found our last hideout?" In a low mutter she added: "Just wait til I get my hands on that raven."
She studied them both - the wolf and the man - and waited for further objections. Toben pursed his lips. Dissatisfaction was written all over his face but eventually he nodded. Vucara's features were impenetrable. Joana knelt in front of the beast.
"Will you send word to Alefa? Arrange a meeting place. And let him know-" The girl hesitated in a last moment of uncertainty. Taking a breath she let it pass. "-let him know the Speaker with Animals will see to rid him of this evil."
The wolf's amber eyes blinked up at her, questing. Joana held the gaze easily. She held no secrets. This was what the wolf had wanted, was it not? After a several seemingly endless heartbeats the wolf gave an excited yelp.
"I will see your message sent, Speaker with Animals", the wolf proclaimed solemnly. "The wolves of Alefa will fight at your side."
With a leap she was off. A few paces to the side she could be heard giving orders to one of the her followers.
"Now we are ready to set off", the girl turned back to Prince Toben. Something in his gaze had changed again. Was there a hint of admiration?
"Looks like you already have an army", he commented with the hint of a smile.
Joana nodded. I will have the murderer of my people, she thought with grim satisfaction. Justice will be served.

... to be continued ...

Intermission

The dark room was shrouded in odorous mists that seemed to whisper of alchemical secrets and potent effects. Only a sensitive and trained nose would have identified the pain relievers in the fumes. Still, the man's face was a grimace of pain as he bent over the cauldron of swirling liquid. Clenching his teeth he mumbled the incantations and drew the runes. Only reluctantly it seemed, did the link respond and swirls begin to clear.
His right eye was covered with a thick patch of crushed herbs held in place with scraps of cloth wound around his head. Even after days the occasional streak of red would shimmer through the mixture. He stood with difficulty - this also only a very sensitive eye would preceive - and one hand would unconsciously wander up to hold his chest.
As the image in the cauldron cleared he drew himself up straight, winced and immediately slumped back to his hunched posture.
The image studied him impassively.
"You have news to report?" The voice seemed to fill the room. The bald man suppressed a grimace even though he knew not a whisper would be audible outside.
"We had her cornered but she is becoming increasingly powerful." He added quickly: "Too powerful."
"She has eluded you again", the figure growled menacingly.

The bald man sputtered: "She had help from the Savages again. The king's son was there with armed men. And this time she simply broke through my enchantments. With only a word!" The thought made him shiver.
The figure's voice betrayed no emotion. It was the tone of a schoolmaster lecturing a pupil.
"You continue to underestimate her. She has the power of Speech. That means the power to entice and control or to break that control."

"The Speech, that is just it", the bald man exclaimed, "she uses it all the time now. She speaks no other language any more! She wraps it around herself like a cloak, shields herself with it... I have never seen anything like it before."
The figure considered this in silence while the bald man on this side of the link waited uneasily.
"The girl progresses more rapidly than we had anticipated. Yet you attribute your observations to control while what you saw was merely due to primitive instincts. Getting hold of her will require ingenuity instead of brute force now."
The words hung in the air awaiting agreement.
"Ingenious though your scheme may be-" The bald man was choosing his words with care. "-but this girl is unpredictable, uncontrollable - like the Savages she surrounds herself with. I fear she will be of no more use to us." He hesitated before adding: "Moreover, she may turn out to be a risk to our designs.""She may pose a risk to your designs, sorcerer, but not to mine." Each word was like a hammer banging the cauldron. "I was a fool to heed your counsel the first time. From now on you will follow my command."
The man drew back from the cauldron hastily as if he feared the image would reach out to him.
"I hear and I obey", he replied in a small voice.
"Press your attacks on the Savages. Destroy them. She will come to me."
With that the swirls consumed the image and the link was severed.

Requiem for a childhood

I think I can consider myself having had a very lucky childhood.
I remember for the first six years or so after my parents moved us to the new house when I was about eight. We lived half in the wild. That was how it felt. The strips of land around our row of houses had not been developed and were littered with construction waste: single bricks, unused bits of pipes, and lots of wood, planks and beams and pallets and trestle. The terrain had been agricultural land: fields and a cherry grove. It had then served as storage for construction material, parking for machines and now it was abandoned.

I remember for me and other neighbours' kids the place was a treasure trove of stuff and of possibility. The gully left by some digger became a river and we used planks to build a bridge. Seeing our enthusiasm our parents allowed us to use hammers and saws for building. Once in a while someone's dad would come out and help us with heavy stuff. We used the trestle and some beams and boards to build a long, narrow shelter/ship/castle (depending on the game it would be repurposed). We went through a pack of nails in no time. And still there would always be more lying around to improvise anything from guns to furniture. Eventually several dads worked together and built us a full-blown house on stilts complete with windows, a porch and stairs leading up. It was to be our club house, HQ, base of operations and rain shelter for years after.
I remember the savage cherry grove and how it doubled for Sherwood Forest, tropical jungle and alien planets. It was overgrown up to the chest with brambles except for a few lanes that had been trodden flat. You could tear your trousers or nick your arms or legs quite nastily on the thorns. There were a few hideouts that were completely shielded from the outside and we took pride in knowing them all. Some had bricks arranged ready to sit on and hold council. We tried to build a tree house but the cherry trees were not strong enough.
I remember late summers when we would climb the trees and pick the cherries we could reach. Most were tiny, dark and bitter. And all the shrubs were full of blackberries if you could pick them without snaring on the thorns.
I remember there were lots of animals. Bugs and spiders, naturally. Locusts. Their rasping would fill the summer air but when you got close to a source of the sound it would always stop. Snails. We used to collect those and make a zoo for the afternoon before throwing them back. There were mice and rabbits. The area was riddled with rabbit holes. There were so many rabbits that once in a while hunters with dogs would come and shoot at them. We'd be furious. A, they were on our turf, B, they were presumably killing innocent rabbits! I think I remember seeing a fox once in a while. And there was definitely a buzzard or small bird of prey. We looked for but never found its nest.

I remember the field near near the main road. It was overgrown with high grass and thistles, brambles and some stalk of a plant that always seemed to be dry and brown and shed tiny, spiky husks of seeds of some sort that would stick to your clothes. I remember the colours of that field were pale yellow and brown and green. The wind would hiss through the dry stalks. The growth was so dense that it was hard to navigate at all, let alone play there. So most of the time we stayed away and treated it as part of the backdrop.

I remember playing there at once. A friend and me were looking for insects or something. We found lots of small locusts and one huge green one. We hadn't thought that such big ones even existed in Germany because you always read that large insects only occur in hot countries. It was almost as long as my finger.
I remember tripping in a rabbit hole and falling flat on a cushion of stalks. My foot hurt because I twisted it but for a moment the only thing that mattered was the spider in front of me. It seemed big as close as it was. It felt like I could make out every detail before I scrambled back in fright. It had its web between the stalks and its abdomen was coloured yellow and black - almost like a wasp. Then my friend was there and helped me limp back home. My parents and I were really afraid I had broken my foot. An x-ray, however, showed it was only sprained, and rest and some ice would make it better.

I remember if the weather was at least dry there was always something to do. And if it did rain we'd run for shelter in one of our huts or we'd go home and adjourn until later. Somebody would always be ringing at somebody else's doorbell asking, sometimes imploring parents if so-and-so would come out. In mid-afternoon we'd stop at somebody's house and their mum would hand us cold juice from the kitchen window. And at the end of the day parents would get infuriated calling us in, calling again, calling for the last time and then kids leaving muddy footprints on the front walk.
I remember us getting excited whenever a plane flew overhead (that was still something special then). We'd scream and shout as loud as we could: "Where are you going?"

Today the spider and locusts and tall stalks are all gone. The grove has been cut down. The earth mounds levelled and the brambles torn out.
The house was the first thing to go. Some older kids from school tore it down on a whim. We had never seen them before and never saw them again. It remained for a while as a ruin. We hadn't played in it for a while but it was still sad to see it go. Soon after they flattened that entire piece of land with bulldozers. Time had caught up. The land had been bought and was being developed. A big office block with fenced off grounds was built in place of our hut.
The field where I sprained my foot and found the locust of my life is now a parking lot for the nearby office block.

Now the last bit, the land formerly occupied by the grove is being developed, as well. The last remaining trees, the overgrowth of grass, brambles and garden refuse have been bulldozed into piles and trucked away. It has become a bare wasteland of memories. I walk across it and my mind superimposes scenes from long ago. It's almost like augmented reality because, of course, nobody else can see those images. I walk around remembering how the grass used to smell when now all that's in the air the odour of wet earth. I still sometimes feel that I own the place in some way.
Nowadays I read Calvin & Hobbes and I realise that this author, much older than me, from the other side of the globe knew how I now feel. More than that, he managed to put this feeling down in words and images that are just spot on. Summers never did last long enough. It always felt unfair to have to come in while it was still light out. We didn't play Calvinball but it sure wasn't your holidays if you didn't spend the day doing something adults considered completely pointless. I realise now that exploring that patch of wilderness and with all those games of make-believe I got to be a Calvin for this time that seemed like it would never have to end but was over so quickly.
Of course, I didn't appreciate it enough when I was there. But right now I am grateful.

Chapter 8: The Cub Finds its Teeth

 At last. The going is harder now because of previous commitment and because decisions must carry more weight. Not a disappointment, I hope. Enjoy.

They flew along the road as Wailach's iron shod hooves hammered the ground with dull thuds. Farmers that had risen early looked up in wonder from their labour. They saw a young lad on the bare back of a mighty steed that was too large for his own frame. He was clinging to the horse's mane and kept shooting cautious glances over his shoulder. Behind him men came running out from the town gate shouting loudly. Then, as if on order, they turned back and disappeared. On the road only the odd farm dog gave chase, barking loudly, to the edge of its territory. It was hard to imagine anything could keep up with the pace the lad's mount was laying down. Once a flock of goats blocked their path. The animals hurried out of the way as horse and rider approached with unreduced speed. One little kid did not react fast enough but just stood still bleating stupidly at the oncoming pair. The black stallion vaulted clear over it. Later the herder would have sworn he had heard a voice bellow: "make way!" and he would swear it was not the young lad's lips that had moved. It would puzzle him for a long while.

Wailach only slowed when they reached the spot where the road entered between the first trees of the forest that surrounded Tramir in an ever expanding circle. Joana finally relaxed her grip on his mane a little. Glancing back she found that the town of Tramir had disappeared behind a ridge. Had they mounted a pursuit? Surely, after going all the way to trap her on the market square of Tramir Grimrun would not let her escape that easily. It would be wise to get off the road soon. Then again, the road allowed them to make more rapid progress.
This was when Wailach hesitated, slowed, perked up his ears. He tensed notably under her. Bending forward she patted his side - just the way you would, she realised, to reassure a startled mare. In fact, it was her that was worried. She had come to trust the creatures around her, their senses and their intuition.
"What is it", she asked, her voice involuntarily lowered to a whisper.
The horse snorted in response tossing his head.
"Someone's following us."
Joana's chest tightened. She strained her eyes to pierce the wall of greens and browns that enclosed them on either side. She could hear nothing besides the soft thumping of Wailach's hooves on the dirt track and the slight breeze rustling in the trees tops, whispering softly to them. Then a darker shape flitted between the greens. Had she really seen that or was her mind playing tricks? Was that hiss the wind or her own breath - or someone else's? Would robbers lurk so close to town? Could it be some sinister servant of Grimrun's that had somehow apprehended them?
"Let's go", she whispered tightly, "they'll just surround us if we stay."
Wailach leaped forward in response as if her words had broken a spell. It was all the girl could do to hold on to his bulk. He did not get very far. Suddenly there were shapes on the road. They seemed to appear out of nowhere though they must have leaped from the undergrowth. They came to stand teeth bared, fur bristling barring their path. Wailach reared and neighed. He danced nervously, turned backwards. With a cry of surprise Joana slid from his back. The landing on the hard, trampled earth of the road drove the wind out of her. She just managed to scramble clear as Wailach staggered backwards and set his forefeet down with a thud. More canine forms had appeared behind them denying them retreat.
"Go no further, Speaker", a rough voice called out. The largest of the wolves in front advanced a few paces. Dazed Joana identified what must be the leader.
Wailach whirled around and let out a furious neigh. He raised his forehooves in the air to strike down their pursuer. The wolf jumped back and snarled angrily.
"Come on and fight, coward", Wailach bellowed. At the last word he slammed his hooves down in a burst of fragments of earth and pebbles.
Joana was on her feet again. Laying a calming hand on the horse's trembling flank she stepped forward. She was confused. Animals had not been a threat to her - at least not since she had discovered her gift.
"What do you want?"
The large wolf cocked his head toward her yet never let Wailach out of his sight. Another wolf growled. The others remained silently at attention, watching Wailach's every move. Joana counted seven including their leader. Of course, there might be more hidden among the shrubs, she thought. If it came to it she doubted Wailach could take them all on.
"You can go no further, Speaker", the lead wolf repeated.
"We go whereever we please", Wailach snorted in response. "Make way for the Speaker or I will beat your head in."
Joana tried not to think of her human pursuers closing in. The fields around Tramir were hidden behind several bends in the road but it wasn't far. How long had it been? How far might pursuers have come? They were exposed. She tried to keep her voice calm.
"Why can we not go on? Do you mean to harm us?"
"They can try!" Wailach tossed his large head.
"You-" The canine seemed to struggle with the words. "-must wait here. You can go no further."
A flutter overhead told her that Ebek, who had scouted ahead, had returned.
"Ah, sparrow crap", he commented.
"Fine scout you are", Wailach shot at him.
Joana tried to focus.
"We cannot wait", she said urgently, "enemies are on our tail. Let us pass." Wailach menacingly advanced a few paces, stamping his hooves at every step. The wolves in front retreated but the ones behind followed. Several of them flashed their teeth.
"You must wait", the leader insisted. "That was the order."
Order. Joana thoughts raced. What capabilities did a Zmeu have? Could Grimrun's dominion extend into the realm of animals, as well?
"Whose order?"
"Mine", a familiar voice suddenly interrupted. The undergrowth parted. Wailach turned, raised his forehooves. But out of the bushes issued not the enemy he expected. With a cry Joana was between them, arms raised protectively.
"Wailach, no! She's a friend! She's my friend."
Vucara had retreated a few paces, fur bristling, cowering and ready to spring. Wailach danced backward also and snorted nervously. The circle of wolves had drawn tighter. Some were snarling. They were preparing to bring the mighty steed down.
"It's all right Vucara." Joana turned back and forth between the wolves and Wailach's bulk. "Call them off. Wailach broke me out of our enemy's prison. He is fierce but we can trust him." Looking at the horse now she tried to put a firm, reassuring note into her tone, adding: "Relax, everyone. We're all friends here."
There was no visible sign from her companion but the wolves pulled back a little. Some sat down on their haunches. Still they kept wary eyes on their large opponent.
"Strange friends you have", the steed commented, "sneaking around, chasing us."
"Forgive me, Speaker", Vucara said, her voice low. Joana noticed her fur was glistening with sweat. She was panting. The limp of her hind leg had become more obvious again.
"I bade Rukain and his pack keep an eye on the road for me. They were to make you wait until I arrived. They were not meant to threaten you." At the last words she raised her voice as if to make sure the other wolves heard her. The leader - Rukain - sat down on his tail with a whine.
"Fortunately, I noticed the disturbance at the entrance to the human settlement and came as fast as I could."
That was when they heard the baying of hounds. With a caw Ebek fluttered up and was gone. Joana jumped. Vucara and the other wolves stiffened.
"Go, cut them off." Vucara's command toward the three wolves behind them sounded like that of an experienced warchief. The girl had never heard her friend speak like this. The wolves obeyed and slipped into the bushes besides the road.
To Joana the wolf continued: "We must not delay further. Your pursuers are near."
They followed Vucara off the road. At her order - or bidding, Joana could not tell the difference - the other four wolves escorted them at a few paces distance. The older wolf took point. They had not gone far when loud clamour arose behind them. The baying took on a fiercer more aggressive note. Then the air carried the shouts of men. Joana tried to shut it out. More bloodshed in her name. As if by instinct her fingers sought out her mother's ring. Why could they not let her be?
Wailach stamped the ground impatiently next to her.
"I would much rather fight than flee and hide like this. I learned this from the humans. I would trample your enemies into the ground!"
"They bring many weapons." Joana shook her head even though she felt the gesture was lost on the horse. "They will not hesitate to kill you, Wailach."
The horse tossed his head.
"I fear neither pain nor death when I'm in your service."
"Look-" Joana tried to explain again.
Vucara interrupted them. "We must make more speed. They are close."
They hurried on. Joana climbed onto Wailach's back. The wolves set the pace, an easy canter for the large steed. The forest became denser. They broke through undergrowth and trampled over thorny briars. Joana pressed herself against the horse's heaving body but she still ended up badly scratched. Twigs whipped her from both sides and sometimes raked across her back. She held on for dear life. Again and again something seemed to block Wailach's path. He turned and wove between trees. Vucara led them on a path that only she could see and that criss-crossed deeper and deeper into the forest and away from the road. Joana quickly lost all sense of direction. In the constant twilight under the vast, green canopy all directions looked the same.
They struggled ahead onto higher territory, that was all Joana could make out. The ground also became rockier. From the narrow and brief scraps of sky that the girl could catch through tears in the roof of leaves she could see the sun was rising toward its zenith. The wolf guided them through increasingly difficult terrain. Here was already far away from the flat lands where humans had made their settlements. On this rocky ground with its gullies and steep slopes, gnarled roots and treacherous briars even surefooted Wailach occasionally slipped or stumbled. Several other wolves joined them on the way though none of them were acknowledged as the ones Vucara had sent to cut off their pursuers. With a heavy heart the girl thought of those other ones she had seen strung up on the market square in Tramir. Would these poor creatures suffer the same fate? She clenched her fists into Wailach's mane. Why were humans capable of such cruelty when animals were not?

The sun had commenced its descending course when Vucara stopped on the rim of a pit in the side of a hill. She stood there above them for a moment, her nose held high into a draught of air that rolled down the slope, her ears pricked, her tail alert. And for that moment Joana, who was slipping off Wailach's back, looked up at her in awe. She admired this proud beast, the sleek line of its back, its taut muscles, the keen unwavering gaze. Here stood a beast from the dawn of time, a force of nature in itself, worthy to run with the gods. Only a slight colour of grey just behind her jaw line showed her very worldly age. To call this beast her friend and guardian was an honour few indeed might have. Again, Joana recalled how the others had called her "elder". She began to comprehend. It seemed the other creatures shared at least some of her sentiments for they had quietly gathered around but did not advance. Then Vucara leaped down into the hollow and the vision faded. Rukain and his pack scattered, each to their regular place it seemed. Here and there a short spat erupted over whose right it was to occupy a space but it soon quieted down. From the smell and the many tracks Joana gathered that the wolves often came here. She tried to count them but kept loosing track at somewhere over a dozen. A few of the beasts had settled on the rim of the pit - very much like watch posts in a human camp. Only Wailach, who was still uneasy around the canines, would not go near the place. He remained some way below between trees where he grazed on sparse forest grass.
Vucara announced they would stay in this place for the night. The hollow was easy to defend. There was also a stream nearby where everyone might drink. If Joana wanted to go look for berries now was the time before it got too dark. Once again it struck Joana how her companion had begun thinking like warrior.
A sharp rustling in the tree above startled them. There was a caw.
"You're good", Ebek commented from a branch just above them. "You almost lost me. Let alone those humans."
The raven set about preening his shiny, black coat of feathers. Vucara's eyes narrowed as she looked up at the bird.
"Ebek. What are you doing here?"
He cocked his head at the wolf seeming to seriously consider this.
"Let me see ... same as you, helping the Speaker fulfil her destiny?"
"Is this-" Vucara reconsidered and addressed the question to Joana. "Is this true?"
The girl nodded. "He picked my bonds and helped me escape, yes. W-"
The wolf had already turned back to the bird.
"I should have known you would sooner or later have your beak in this. From the moment I noticed your spies following us you've been waiting for just the right time to make your entry."
The raven cocked his head the other way peering down with one black eye only.
"Spies", the bird squawked, "and what made you think that?"
"They followed us. They were listening. Do you still deny you sent them?"
"Indeed, I do." Ebek knocked the side of his beak against the wood with a twist of his head. "I sense distrust, Elder, but it's severely misplaced. Remember what the Speaker said? We're all friends here."
"Sense what you will, king of crows", Vucara snorted. With that she made to return to the hollow. The fur on the back of her neck was bristling.
"It's raven, actually", Ebek corrected mildly as if it was something he had said many times.
"Raven or crow." Vucara snarled, turning back again. Her tail was twitching impatiently. "It is not your ancestry but your motives that I question."
Joana was following this exchange with growing confusion. Why was her companion so hostile? The other wolves were looking over to them, their ears pointed their way. Only Wailach showed no interest but continued to pull at random tufts of grass.
"What about my motives", Ebek squawked slyly.
"You have associated too much with humans", the wolf replied flatly.
"The same could be said about yourself, Elder Vucara."
"Watch your words! I associate with the Speaker alone."
There was a wide grin in the raven's tone when he answered: "But it is your motives I question. I do not make the pretence of loyalty when it is only my species I wish to redeem."
This time Vucara bared her teeth at him in sudden growl that made Ebek hop away on his branch. The wolf seemed ready to pounce.
"How dare you?! My loyalty to the Speaker has been unquestioning!"
"To the Speaker maybe. But how about her?"
"The two are inseparable", Vucara barked.
"Friends, enough, please." Joana tried to step between them, which was not easy because of the difference in altitude. The argument had taken religious proportions. It reminded her uncomfortably of the story in father's holy scripture. She was no icon to fight over. Not when you considered what she was bent on doing.
Her voice silenced both animals. They stared at her. Embarrassed she found that she was lost for words.
"Isn't what humans do enough? Do we have to be at each other's throats, too?" When they still seemed unwilling to back off she went on: "I'm not some sort of chosen one. You've been immensely kind to me and to both of you I owe a debt of gratitude I can never hope to repay in full."
"Gracious words", Ebek replied not unkindly but in an official tone. "One day maybe the black birds will hold you to it." He spread his wings and was off into the eaves of the tree leaving Joana with her canine companion behind. Vucara stared after him without blinking then turned away, her tail sagging a little in a sign weariness.
Almost inaudibly she muttered: "Good riddance."
After a moment's hesitation Joana called after her to wait. It felt like interrogating her mother, or the clan chief. The Vucara she had met initially was reverent, the one she faced now  intimidated her. Still, she had to ask - now more than ever. The old wolf stood still without a word, letting her catch up.
"What was that all about?"
Vucara sighed in an almost human fashion.
"Walk with me, Speaker. I am thirsty."
So they walked in silence away from the wolves' resting place - Joana could not help but think of it as a camp. Down a slope they made their way, over naked rocks and between slender trees. Vucara led the way. They heard it before they saw. Gurgling and murmuring and splashing. Then the undergrowth suddenly opened up onto a lively stream that had dug a deep bed for itself between the rocks. Carefully testing her footing Vucara padded down the slick bank to the stream. Joana followed setting her feet where her companion had stepped. When she reached the bottom Vucara was already lapping eagerly at the flowing water. Joana bent down and scooped up a handful. The water was cool and clear. Now her body remembered that she had not drunk since last night and she began swallowing in deep gulps.
When they had had their fill the two climbed back up. Exhausted from the long ride and the sleepless night Joana nestled into the hollow between two gnarled roots resting her head against the base of the tree. Gazing upward she followed its trunk from where she was sitting, up to where it split into several thick branches, to where those in turn split, all the way to where its leaves swayed lazily over the coursing stream on slender twigs outlined against a uniform grey autumn sky. She was growing hungry and would need to worry about food soon - but not just yet. Right now she was not sure whether she really wanted those answers from Vucara. Moreover she felt exhausted. Why could her life not be simple again? It had only been a few weeks. She could have enjoyed such a moment's respite ...
The wolf stirred uneasily next to her. Vucara had settled, her forelegs stretched elegantly in front of her, her poise alert, among patches of tall reeds and grass a little nearer to the bank. Joana noticed her companion was scanning the trees around them as if she expected prying eyes and ears hidden among the foliage. And, thought the girl, that was just what she was doing. The wolf sniffed suspiciously at the breeze that blew down from the narrow gap the stream had left.
Finally, Joana broke the silence: "What quarrel is there between you and Ebek?"
A pause, not awkward but enough to make it clear Vucara was considering her answer.
"There is no quarrel between us. I merely do not trust him. Nor do I trust he is merely helping you for the reason he claims he is."
"All this because we heard crows following us?" She remembered the crows that had looked up at her out of black eyes among the ruins of Kremitz.
"You will hear them say", Vucara responded patienty, "that to hear and to see and to remember was their purpose in this world." She hesitated a moment before she continued in a lower voice. "Their curiosity, however, often drives them to entertain close contact with your people."
"How so?" Joana's surprise was genuine as was a certain incredulity. The wolf gazed out at the river.
"There are some among you who attempt to control the energies of nature. The man we encountered in that settlement was one of them."
"Berengar", the girl murmured with a pang of regret. Another soul she would have to avenge. "You mean sorcerers, oracles, witches?"
"Those words mean nothing to me. We feel only what they do. They seek knowledge to bend the world to their will. They are willing to seek this knowledge in unusual places. Knowledge then begets more knowledge and power comes along with it. This process draws Ebek and his kind to them. And them to the crows for they are easily persuaded to impart what they know." She let this sink in for a moment before going on. "Your adversary is probably the most powerful among such ... sorcerers, as you call them. Imagine the lure, the temptation that serving him must be. And certainly he bears no ill will to raven-kind."
Her last words hung in the air between them like ominous rain clouds.
"If Ebek is in league with Grimrun", Joana spoke slowly, "why would he help me escape while his master sends men to capture me and take me back to him?"
"That I cannot answer." Then darkly: "If your adversary is truly what you say he is then neither of us may yet fathom his schemes."
Another riddle. Was Joana ever going to get anything but riddles out of her?
"What do you know about Grimrun", Joana queried intently.
"No more than you", the wolf replied evenly, "what you tell me and what I feel in his presence. It is in our nature to observe, stealthily."
Joana regarded her again. She almost imagined catching the proud beast smiling mysteriously.
"I still don't know the first thing about you, Elder Vucara."
The wolf started a little when she heard her title spoken.
"Few do. Humans seem to wear their hearts for all to see and to read. Our kind guard our secrets closely."
"You don't trust anybody?"
"Only a few. And only after observing them a long time."
"And yet", Joana returned hesitantly, "Ebek seems to know things about you..."
She could see Vucara's fur bristling again. She had not done that since their first meeting by that other stream. The wolf got up, walked slowly up to the steep bank. Joana feared another riddle but it did not come. Vucara's voice was low, resigned, when she finally turned her profile back toward the sitting girl.
"A long time ago one of my ancestors bit a hand he should not have bitten. He brought upon us a curse, great unhappiness and misfortune. Tellings say it was from that time on that your kind and mine - those who walk on two legs and those who walk on four - became estranged. A rift opened that has been growing wider ever since. True Speech was forgotten - in many cases the gift of speech itself was. They say that only a True Sayer can bring the two peoples back together." At this she turned fully back with one limping step. Her eyes blazed as she went on: "One who still possess the gift."
Joana shivered but it was not the cold that brought on this reaction. Her heart was pounding all of a sudden.
"You think I could ... make things the way they once were?"
"When I found you, heard you speak - for the first time I had hope. Hope that this miracle might happen within my lifetime."
"And that is why you spared my life and did not drag me off to be eaten by the pack?"
"In the beginning ... yes." She gazed off again, wistfully this time. "If this disappoints you, Speaker, I am sorry. I truly am. I would see those days of unity return. I would see my people be rid of the shame. I would see the enmity and mistrust between our peoples give way to the friendship of old."
Now Vucara seemed merely old and tired. But there was a fire in her gaze, an intense expectancy. Joana could not hold it but lowered her eyes. It was one thing to face the consequences for past actions but the wolf was reversing this old principle. She could almost feel the weight of Vucara's hopes and expectations settle on her shoulders. She shrugged helplessly.
"But how?"
"Again, I am sorry, Speaker, that I cannot tell you. One day I expect you will know. Fate will guide you as it has guided you so far. I will do my best to help you find out."
"What if it doesn't work out? What if Grimrun just kills me?"
The wolf remained silent. She made to leave trotting close by the sitting girl. Right next to her she halted for a few heartbeats.
"Rest, Speaker. You are safe here for now. We will keep watch."
Then she was gone. Joana remained sitting. Her companion - was she really - was right: she was utterly exhausted and needed rest. Staring across the stream at the wall of green leaves and the intricate patterns of light and dark the Speaker rested her head against the rough tree trunk. Below her wave after wave lapped noisily at mossy stones and murmured softly as it passed down its bed.

She had not noticed falling asleep but Joana was awake with a jolt. The sky was darker than it had been. The bright patch of the sun was no longer visible above the trees. Stream and earth and girl were cast in ever longer shadows. Had she dreamed? There had been a face, a familiar face. One full of grief and weariness. An old man who had been dealt severe blows and who was praying. Praying to a pair of sticks tied together in the shape of a cross. What then had woken her up? The forest around her was quiet apart from the calls of the first nocturnal birds that had risen early. There was nothing to be seen. And yet. She could feel somebody’s eyes upon her. Groping around the mossy ground she rose cautiously to her feet. Her hands soon found what they had been looking for. Something solid and heavy enough. Her fingers closed around what turned out to be a thick fallen branch. Lichen was already growing on it but it seemed strong enough.
Her eyes wide the girl peered into the growing gloom among the trees. Had Vucara not said one of the wolves would keep watch? She took hold of the branch with both hands, hefted it like a broadsword. Turning this way and that, always keeping her makeshift weapon extended in front of her, she began slowly making her way back up the slope toward where the camp must be.
Joana had not gone very far - she could still make out the patch of light where the stream cut through the mass of trees - when her foot caught on something that made her stumble. She nearly dropped the branch. The thing on the ground looked like a huge, overgrown root curling away from a tree trunk. But it had been soft. Instead of moss her questing hand found fur on a body that was no longer as warm as it should be. Then she spotted something sleek and straight that stuck in its chest. With a gasp she was upright, pressing against the tree trunk. Her breathing doubled in speed. She gripped her club harder, wildly casting her gaze this way and that. How had they found her? And which direction were they most likely to come from?
"Show yourselves." The words pushed through gritted teeth. "Let’s get this over with."
She had not expected a reply or even a reaction. But some of the shadows among the trees suddenly came to life. The shapes that stepped into the open appeared to cast the darkness back as if it were a hood to them. To Joana’s surprise they were no taller than children. Tallest of them hardly reached up to Joana’s chest but they were of a squat and stocky shape and made no sound as they moved. Then it hit her.
"You!"
"We meet again, lass", said the tallest dwarf solemnly. "I’m afraid once again you are going to have to come with us."
"Not this time." Joana shook her head vigorously, made to back away but they followed, swiftly forming a circle around their quarry and cutting off her escape. There were five of them Joana could make out. They wore the onset of night like cloaks around their necks. Each appeared to be wearing some form of intricately fashioned hard clothing or armour and was armed with sword or axe at their side. Joana's heart sank but she made a menacing swish with the heavy log. They halted, though not apprehensive but rather biding their time.
"Stay where you are!" Joana focused on the leader. He calmly returned her gaze. "I'm not going back to your master."
"What the master wants the master gets", the leader said solemnly. He broke eye contact only for a moment when his gaze sought that of his companions.
"Not alive this time. Back I say!" Two of the dwarfs were quietly edging closer from either side. Joana swung the club in earnest this time. The one on her right managed to dodge out of the way but the other dwarf decided to seize the opportunity and close in. With a grunt the girl brought her weapon around further and caught him off balance. The heavy stick snapped with a crack that echoed between the trees. From the corner of her eye Joana saw the other dwarf had not withdrawn but was closing again. With a curse that would have made her father blush she hurled the remaining end of the branch in his direction. The tumbling projectile struck his arms as he raised them protectively before his face. Joana was nearly past him before he had recovered. She ducked out of the reach of his snaring hands and ran up the slope.
Let there not be treacherous roots or pits, she prayed by herself though she knew not for sure who to. There was a shrill whistle from behind her. A signal? Were there more? Approaching the crest of the hill it was then that she noticed the red glow that cast unsteady shadows of the trees in front and outlined them sharply against the darkening sky. It seemed to pulse and throb like a living thing. And as she watched it was growing slowly brighter. The wolves! Wailach! Had they been attacked while she had been sleeping and silently murdered? This was when a hand grabbed at her from the shadows. She screamed, kicked, stumbled but regained her footing - only to crash straight into another figure that seemed to literally appear out of nowhere.
They fell, rolled on the ground. Pointy rocks and roots stung her sides. The shape was surprisingly tall and heavy for a dwarf. Hands fumbled for her wrists. She kicked fiercely at her adversary. Her foot connected with something. There was a grunt of pain and the hands stopped. The figure curled up but she was already scrambling to her feet.
"Joana", said a voice in the grey between the trees. She realised it had been saying it before during their struggle. She knew that voice and now she could make out the face.
"It's me", Toben added unnessecarily.
"Grimrun hesitates at nothing to bring me in", she growled in response, "but you shan't have me either."
She backed off again, casting cautious glances back the way she had come. Where was Vucara? The thought stung in her heart. He took a step forward, brought his hands up showing her they were empty.
In a controlled tone he said: "I'm not here to take you anywhere. I want to find out what in the gods' names is going on."
"You could have come up and asked." Her voice sounded hollow. She had managed to put a tree between them. "Why bring those dwarfs? Why slaughter my friends and burn everything??" She gestured wildly toward the waxing light.
"Grimrun's men have orders straight from him", he snapped back, "they don't answer to me." His anger hid embarrassment. He reminded her of a little boy now whose pet dog refused to answer the whistle.
"You are the god-damn prince", she screamed furiously, "make them obey!"
He scowled, opened his mouth for a reply. There was a vicious snarl from a clump of young trees off to and behind Joana's right. A singing of metal told Joana Toben now held his sword drawn. Two shapes with bristling fur came out on top of a third one that was barely larger than them but much bulkier. The defender struggled wildly. A stubby hand gripped one the creatures and held it. The other hand, clenched into a fist, shot up and connected with a crack. He pounded the animal furiously and it went limp in his stranglehold. But a different pair of jaws closed around a short, thick throat and tore. The prone shape thrashed the empty air. There was a twang and the arrow found its mark before the second beast could withdraw. With a yowl the canine form flinched and rolled on one side. Its victim already lay still.
"They're here." Joana spun around and pressed her back against the tree. Where to run now?
With his left hand Toben pulled the other man she had struggled with to his feet. It was one of his guards. He was still doubled over and clutching his groin.
More clamour erupted around them: snarling, barking, howling interspersed with shouts and human-like cries. Joana could make out shapes outlined against the firelight, shapes struggling, blades slashing, teeth tearing. A whole battle seemed to rage around her. Had there been that many? Or was it a few fighting like an army? Suddenly a small hand closed around her wrist. Joana spun and pulled hard but the stocky figure was heavier than it looked. And the grip was as unyielding as a blacksmith's vice. Instead she rebounded and came face to face with the dwarf who pointed at her a short, geometric-looking sword. It was the leader. He motioned with his head, tugged on her wrist. She shook her head. Without a further word he pulled with such force that it seemed to dislocate her arm. She stumbled forward, landing painfully on her knees. He kept slowly backing away from the fight dragging the girl along with him. No amount of struggling seemed to have an effect. She shouted Toben's name but could not spot him anywhere. She pounded the hand that held her.
"Let me go", she commanded. He paid her no heed, instead watching the surroundings attentively. She bumped against a root, caught it in her hand and held fast. He pulled relentlessly. She could feel the strain on her shoulder, the bone beginning to give.
She screamed then, at the top of her voice: "Let me go!!" They words in True Speech made her spine tingle. He let go so abruptly that he stumbled and fell backwards. Only for a moment Joana caught on his face a look of confusion and surprise. Then Toben was on top of him. He drove the tip of his sword at the dwarf's throat but his opponent rolled to one side. Toben stabbed again. This time the dwarf caught the blade in his hand and to Joana's amazement held it immobile by the blade. Both opponents trembled with exertion. Blood was trickling down the dwarf's wrist. The blade was slipping. The dwarf grunted in pain. Between clenched teeth he growled: "Ye don't know who yer dealing with."
With a sudden jerk on the blade he caught Toben off balance. As the warrior staggered the dwarf gave him a kick. The two humans wound up in a heap. Back on his feet the dwarf leader gave a short, shrill whistle as before. Then he flicked the hood of his cloak over his head and faded out of sight. As abruptly as it had broken out the skirmish was over. Joana's heart was pounding. She was still staring at the place where the dwarf had stood. She focused on the weight on her chest. Toben was also staring wide-eyed in the dwarf's direction. His upper body lay on top of hers. He noticed her motion and looked down at her. For a moment they remained like this. Now it was a different tingling Joana felt. The moment dragged on. He had caught himself with his left hand on the ground. The other, Joana realised, had come to rest on her chest. With an indignant cry she pushed him off and he landed with a thud next to her.
Vucara was the first to emerge. The girl could now recognise her anywhere. Blood red light danced among the trees picking out bodies here and there. Some still moved. The guard was nowhere to be seen. A silence had fallen that was only interrupted by a waxing sound of crackling and hissing. The first sparks were flying over the trees. She could smell it now, the choking scent of moist wood burning, of ash, a slight sting of smoke in the air.
"Speaker!" Vucara was next to her.
Other wolves had gathered but they were few. Many had dark streaks and splatters on their coats of fur. They formed a menacing circle around the humans. Toben slowly rose up groping on the ground for his sword. His hand only found Joana's foot, which made her jump. She shook his hand off.
"Better stay still now", she hissed at him. The man froze.
"Have they hurt you, Speaker?" Vucara was urgently sniffing her. There was an almost human expression of worry on her canine face. "Has he?"
Joana noted to her amazement that she was unharmed. Scared, confused but unharmed. Her wrist still felt numb from the dwarf's hold on her. Her body felt like it was only being held together by cuts and bruises. And her skin still burned in the places Toben had touched it.
"I'm fine", she said. Her voice sounded hoarse.
"What about him?" The wolf turned her head in Toben's direction, sniffing.
"I'm not sure", Joana admitted. "He hasn't attacked me." Then turning to him: "What do you want?"
"What I told you", came Toben's tense reply, "to learn the truth."
She returned sharply: "I've told you the truth already. I am not to blame for the deaths in Tramir. Grimrun's words are a pack of lies. They are after me and stop at nothing to get me. You can see that, can't you?"
He looked around. "Grimrun? But why?"
"How should I know?" She had raised her voice again.
"She is telling the truth, I can vouch for that", Vucara now interrupted their exchange. She had never addressed anyone beside her, Joana noticed. Toben stared at the wolf with his mouth hanging open.
Then: "It talks. It really talks." He slowly turned back toward Joana. An expression of wonder had spread across his features. "It is true what they say then."
The wolf interrupted again: "Speaker! We must leave." There was a quaver in her voice that Joana had not heard before. She realised the wolf just stopped short of tugging as her tattered clothing like an anxious dog. She looked up. The wall of flames was cresting the hill: a ponderous avalanche that defied the laws of nature and was rolling upwards with horrible determination. The glow had fanned out now to both sides, cutting off all escape in a broad swath in that direction. Soon all traces of their battle would be burned to ash. The girl looked on in a growing helpless anger. Her enemy would not cease hunting her no matter where she ran. She would just leave a trail of dead bodies and charred ground.
"Are you on my side or not", she demanded of the prince.
"What you say rings true. You keep wondrous company. The vicious beasts of the forest come to your aid and speak on your behalf. Yet there is still much about you that I do not fully understand." He was torn, uncertain. But Joana could also spot something new in his eyes. The mocking expression she had so disliked when they first met was gone.
"Speaker!"
"Back to the stream then." The firm tone of her voice surprised her. "If we find a crossing it will shield us from the flames."
Vucara let out a yelp that sounded almost like a sigh of relief. "Follow me!" She made off back down the slope. The other wolves followed in a loose train.
Joana looked back at Toben. "Can I trust you?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Then you'd better be going if you don't want to be roasted." With that she turned and hurried after the wolves.
He called something after her but it was lost in the sounds of her own haste.
When they reached the stream the wolves made a sharp turn. She could make out the noise of the waters. The ground was treacherous and she had to give it her full attention. Still, she tripped many times. In front and behind she could hear the wolves panting softly. They hardly made any other noise as they ran. A stark contrast to her own clumsy stumbling.
They had not gone far when the team came to a sudden halt. Joana had doubled over. She was exhausted and beginning to feel it more than ever. The wolves around her were nervous. Where was Wailach, it occurred to her. She had not seen the proud steed since the attack. Then Vucara was next to her.
"We cannot go on. The reek of strangers, humans, is everywhere in front."
Joana's heart went cold again. Of course, it had been a trap. That moment a dog started barking and only a heartbeat later a great cry of many voices joined in unison rose up from the dark forest ahead. They all jumped. Drums were beaten. The booming echoed among the silent trees. Several of the wolves whined. Then the harsh blast from a horn cut through the other noise.
"Back", Joana commanded. Several of the wolves were already bounding the opposite way. They turned back, crashing heedlessly now through the undergrowth. The drums and shouts seemed ever behind them. When the dark shape came into focus between the trees Joana finally lost her footing. He caught her with a quick step forward. She was held by a pair of strong arms.
A familiar voice said, just loud enough to be heard over the din: "I tried to tell you: the camp is that way."
Instinctively she looked back over her shoulder. There were flickering lights moving among the trees.
Joana pushed him away. "Any other way we might be cut off unexpectedly", she snapped.
This time he followed her when she ran. The wolves had continued ahead. They did not get far. A blood curdling yowl cut through the other noise, followed closely by another. In terrible foreboding Joana accelerated her steps. The remaining wolves had gathered before a rough barricade of dead wood. Before she could get her bearings lights sprang up some way behind the barricade. More shouts sounded and the clashing of iron on wood. The lights advanced. The wolves shrank back but there was nowhere left to go. In panic they turned this way and that, whining miserably.
"They are everywhere, Speaker." For the first time there was desperation in Vucara's voice. "They have fire."
Somebody touched her arm. It was Toben. The girl jerked her arm away from him. Could this all be his doing: first gaining her trust, then abusing it by orchestrating this trap?
"They have mounted a drive", he shouted. "It is a common strategy when hunting wolves. Tell them to stay calm. There cannot be that many of them."
"How do you know so much about what they are doing", she demanded.
"I don't", came the reply. "I've been on wolf hunts though."
She glared at him. Of course, he had been. He opened his mouth to add something but their enemies were upon them. The bobbing torch lights became torches held by men in padded leather vests holding axes and bows in the other hand. They scaled the barricade on one side. Briefly, their light fell on a row of wooden spikes that had been erected behind the wall. Two dead wolves hung on them that had probably jumped over. More armed warriors were advancing on the opposite side. Toben was right, there could be no more than ten. But she also saw how few the wolves had become. Joana counted no more than seven that had survived this far. With them moving around incessantly there was no being sure.
Toben drew his sword again. There was a slight twist in the blade where the dwarf had gripped it. She could now see he was wearing the same ring mail she had seen him in days ago on the town square of Tramir. His cloak was torn and his hair and clothes in disarray.
"I am Toben, son of Baldrik, your chosen king", he bellowed. "I command you to come forth peacefully and state your business!"
In response an arrow zipped by him. It struck a wolf in the shoulder. It yelped in pain. Joana was at its side immediately trying to find calming words while she figured out how to extract the missile.
"Cease your attack at once or you shall feel the consequences", Toben roared beside her. Another arrow struck the wolf Joana was nursing and it went limp in her arms. Several more arrows followed. Yelps and howls of pain erupted around her.
The shriek rose from her plagued heart, filled her belly, surged up her throat.
"STOP!"
The action around her ground to a reluctant halt. Arrows remained on bowstrings, wolves leaping and writhing seemed to slow. The word throbbed in the back of her head. She had used True Speech instinctively this time.
Then with a palpable gasp the scene came to life again. Vucara was the first to recover. She pounced on one of the men on the barricade pushing him back where he landed breathlessly out of sight. Toben sprang forward. With several long steps he covered the distance to the nearest torch holder and brought his sword arching down. He yanked it free of the man's shoulder. A fountain of blood followed it. He had moved on to the next man before the first hit the ground. Deep he drove the blade into the man's abdomen. The warrior doubled over with a whimper. On the other side Vucara and another wolf with an arrow stuck in its back were dragging a man screaming from the barricade. He flailed his bow at them. When they finally let go his companions pulled him back over the wall leaving a moist, glistening trail. They took cover out of sight.
The sound of somebody clapping their hands interrupted the fight. A single figure, clad in heavy furs, slowly walked out into the light of the torches. Behind him the fire had consumed the hill top. It lent him a blazing halo like that of the fire giants in the ancient tales. He surveyed the scene with grim satisfaction, then stepped fully into the light. His hood was cast back revealing a bald skalp.
"Toben, son of Baldrik, cease your needless violence." Joana knew the voice well. Toben, who had been struggling with the third man on his side, watched helplessly as his arms sank and his hand released the sword. In a fluid motion the man smashed his forehead into Toben's face. The prince broke to his knees with a groan. Blood running from his nose dripped onto the ground.
"And you, Joana, daughter of Iacobus", Grimrun addressed her, "contain your pets or they will be slain indiscriminately." She felt the tendrils of the suggestion in her head trying to take hold. Something in her mind wanted to believe that he would spare them and comply. It would be so easy. Vucara growled. Clenching her fists at her sides she shook it off and tried to meet his gaze.
"You're going to kill them anyway", she spat in True Speech. "Why should I believe in your mercy now?"
Grimrun fixed his piercing gaze on her. The dancing light flickered in them menacingly. Two of the men behind the barricade had emerged again and pointed bows at her and the wolves. Vucara uttered a whine. She and two more remaining wolves withdrew, gathering around Joana.
"I salute your display of power, Joana, daughter of Iacobus." Again his will bent down on her. His thin lips twisted into a sneer. "But you still have a lot to learn. Come to me now."
This time the command was intense. As if they had a mind of their own her legs wanted to obey and march forward. Joana closed her eyes. Her chest felt tight. The more she pushed back against Grimrun's will the worse it got. She took a laboured breath. Her head hurt from the strain. A lot of muscles had cramped. She finally managed to shake her head.
"No." Grimrun's eyes grew wide in surprise. Though everything in her screamed to look away she forced herself to hold his gaze. Through clenched teeth she went on: "I'm not going with you. And you can't make me, can you?"
All eyes were on them now, Joana realised. Grimrun's men had probably never seen any opponent stand up to him, least of all a woman. And she could see the strain in him now. His jaws were grinding and veins had begun to throb on his head. They faced each other for endless moments. Grimrun's eyes were the first to twitch.
"I have no more patience for you little brat", Grimrun growled hoarsely. "Kill those wolves. Then bring her to me."
Joana's heart stopped. At this range they could not miss. But the men hesitated.
"Kill them", Grimrun roared in a fury.
A desperate idea struck Joana then. If the words of True Speech had a cleansing effect on her then ...
"Get back", she hissed to the wolves, who faded further between the rocks on the river bank. She tried to give her voice an air of confidence and command when she called: "Hold it! You know what they say about me. If even your master cannot break my will what do you think I could do to you?"
The men exchanged glances. Not a single arrow flew. No axe was raised.
"Fools", mocked Grimrun, "you shit your breeches because of a girl and her pets. You don't know who you are dealing with."
Still glaring at her he crouched. A long knife was in his hand. He slashed his hand and began to chant while blood leaked drip by drip from his clenched fist. Joana felt a wave of heat. The wolves yelped miserably. The rocks they were hiding among were heating up like a furnace. In a heartbeat her rush of triumph and hope turned into dismay.
"Stop it", she wailed.
A tiny shadow dropped from the trees. It dove like an arrow and found its mark right under Grimrun's brow. The sorcerer gave a cry of surprise which rose into a terrible shriek as the little beak dug into his right eyeball. The knife tumbled to the ground as he struggled with the flapping creature. Dark blood gushed down his cheek. The animal twisted left and right evading his hands but kept pecking. As he swatted at it hysterically his influence evaporated. His men looked on in horror.
Joana felt light-headed. She could have cheered the bird.
"Vucara", she shouted in exhilaration, "now! Drive them off!"
With long steps she rushed forward. In front the screaming Grimrun had caught the bird in his hand and flung it away from him. It tumbled through the air and landed out of sight. Joana almost slid into him, fumbling for the knife. She caught hold of it first. Their eyes met as she raised it high above her head.
"This is for mother!"
She plunged the blade down among the furs. Grimrun screamed. He struggled wildly. Joana pulled the knife back. The furs were turning soggy. Half-blind with blood even on the good eye the sorcerer reached for the weapon but came away only with empty air. She brought the blade down again.
"This is for father!" Grimrun howled. This time he caught her with his flailing hands and sent her rolling on the mossy ground. The knife bounced out of her hand. When Joana scrambled upright again he was no more than a shade stumbling between trees outlined against the raging fire.
"We're not done with you!" His voice was shrill and quavered. "I will not forget this!"

Joana swore. Where was the knife? Her eyes shot this way and that while her hands felt around. Nothing. Where was the damn knife??
"Vucara", she shouted frantically, "he's getting away. Toben! Stop him!"
There was no answer. When she looked up again, Grimrun was nowhere to be seen. The girl shook her fist at the empty forest, the fire, the tracks of the man that had passed.
"Flee now, monster", she taunted. "Your blood debt is not paid! I will find you!"
After everything she felt only empty. Suddenly her legs refused to hold her. Exhaustion flooded over her, forcing her on her knees.
"I will find you."
Darkness folded in around her. Joana was already unconscious when a pair of arms caught her.

... to be continued ...