Inspired significantly by the nickname I gave a friend once. Names have been changed (slightly) to protect the identities of those involved. I hope you will forgive me for borrowing it. So, here's to you as promised. Enjoy!
Wisps of mist hung low over the treetops as Joana stepped outside her tent and surveyed the scene that panned out before her. The sun had just risen above the horizon ahead casting its first rays on her face. The golden glare made her squint. It also glittered off countless sharp points of steel. There was still a chill in the morning breeze that made her shiver despite the heavy cloak. Around her the camp was already awake with activity despite the early hour. Several great beasts were being harnessed up before the bulky siege engines. Their grunts and snarls could be heard at a distance. She could hear orders being shouted. But outside the borders of the camp a deep quiet reigned. Much quieter than you would expect at dawn at the edge of the forest. This morning the birds did not sing and even the leaves on the trees seemed not to rustle despite the breeze that moved them. The world around her seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
Vucara had appeared at her side without making a sound as was her habit. She was already wearing her battle gear and was looking up at Joana questioningly. Their eyes met and there was understanding without words.
"It is time", Vucara said simply.
Joana nodded still deep in thought. Let the world hold its breath, she mused, today is the first day of my vengeance.
Tiny will'o the wisps seemed to twinkle gaily on the dark ceiling of her refuge. The thought was somewhat comforting. It made Joana feel less forlorn than she knew she was. The preacher that had come a few years ago had said the whole expanse of the sky was indeed a dome with holes pierced into it. The ancients, however, had said the tiny twinkling lights were the souls of the ancestral heroes, those that had died bravely and honourably. Upon death they rose up to illuminate the dark void around the world. From there they would look down on the lands and the people they had died for. Only those great ones whose souls burned bright even in life were destined to rise as stars.
Suddenly, in her damp gully, in the dark, Joana felt like falling upward into the sky. Was this what the heroes of old had felt like. It sure was stomach churning!
She lay back. Her sides were still burning from her wild race and her face and arms still stung from the twigs and thorns that had lashed at her out of the dark undergrowth. At least her breath was returning to normal.
Now the tears welled up in her and her breathing was choked by sobs.
Why did they do this?
The images were vivid in front of her mind's eye. The slashing and hewing, the blood, the screams of pain, the shrieks of terror and the wails of despair. Then the fire had sprung up at the bald man's mere gesture! Within a few heart beats, it seemed, the flames had consumed all she could see. She had pleaded with him to stop it, to take her and do as he pleased but to let the others go. He had smirked and called her a naive child. Revolts are born out of those that live to tell the tale, he had lectured her. So the gruesome spectacle had continued but she had squeezed her eyes shut and bitten her lip. She had bitten so hard the rusty taste of her own blood was still in her mouth. Or was that the blood of the guard's hand she had bitten down hard on when the bald man, finally satisfied, had ordered to have her taken away? She had then knocked her head back sharply and connected with something that had snapped and produced a cry from the man. He had dropped her and she had taken off running like never before in her life.
Blindly into the forest she had stumbled. There had been no time to think. Men had already jumped on their horses. And bald man had raised his voice above the tumult: "Alive, remember, we want her alive!"
They had just come out of nowhere, had attacked without a single warning or demand. The bald man had strode through the chaos and surveyed it like a schoolmaster surveying his pupils. When he had spotted Joana a single whistle had been enough to have two of his henchmen pounce on her and drag her, kicking and screaming, out of the mayhem.
She had raced through the dark forest like a hunted deer, desperately dodging tree trunks and lunging over roots, constantly afraid she might trip and fall or run into a tree. It was a miracle she hadn't. But she did know these woods close to her village well. The gully she was lying in would hide her from view even if they brought torches.
An vicious howl startled her upright. Dogs! They had brought dogs to track her. She was struggling to her feet before she had finished the thought. She ran again with a desperate strength that only fear of death brings out. This time though it was more of a frantic hobble than a run.
The creek! She might loose them there. Water always confused dogs.
There was more howling and baying now. As she plunged through the nightly forest she was certain that all the noise she made could be heard for miles. If she could only find the creek. She strained her ears to locate its rushing sound. She knew a place where the rocks were just flat enough... But she must keep running. Blood pounded in her head. She was beginning to feel dizzy. And still her pursuers were closing in. She could now hear the voices of men that must be following the hounds. Run, run, run, her heart seemed to thump in her head.
Then over the noises of her desperate flight she finally heard it, the gurgling and rushing of the stream. And there was the place with the flat rocks! Carefully now, Joana tried to calm her racing heart and gasping breaths. Slowly she waded out into the cold water. It tugged violently at her ankles, then calves, then thighs. Up onto the first rock was still easy. But she would have to jump across several gaps. She had done it before but in bright daylight and without armed men and crazed hounds chasing her. The moon had risen by now and the stars provided some light as well. At least she could make out the spot she had to hop to. Carefully she edged across the first rock. The second was just one step away. Then came the first wider gap.
Just at this moment there was a shout from behind her. She whirled around only to see her pursuers break through the undergrowth where she had come from. Joana recognised the hounds as the ones that had belonged to the hunter of their village. How on earth had they got them to obey the commands of strangers? There was no time. The hounds put up a racket of baying right at the bank of the stream and two began climbing the first rock. She turned and jumped. For a heartbeat she was sure there was no way she would make it. Then her feet touched the rock - and nearly slipped from under her. She wound up on all fours crawling across the treacherous surface.
"Where is she?" It was the harsh, commanding voice of the bald man. He was here, too!
There was an answer she could not make out. Then a furious scream in reply: "Then get her off there and bring her to me, you morons!"
She did not dare to turn around any more. Water was splashing all over her and it was chilling her to the bone. Half sliding, half clambering down she came to the next rock. She dared not stop. Behind her she could hear shouts, a pitiful yowl and a splash.
"Damn those dogs to hell", she heard the bald man's voice, "she's just there. Get to her!"
Taking only a heartbeat's time to gauge the distance she jumped again. As she came down Joana felt her foot slip. Her heart seemed to stop. Wildly flapping her arms she fell to one side. She wound up on the large slab of rock spread-eagled like a swatted bug. Water splashed over her soaking her completely now. Joana dug her fingers into what ever crevice they could find holding on for dear life. The bald man's shouting rose in pitch.
"Faster you! If we loose the girl I shall have your heads!"
There was a cry - half surprised, half horrified - then a sound like a ripe apple splitting on stone and a loud splash. They wouldn't be following her that quickly. With desperate strength she pulled herself upright. The next rock was not as easy to reach from this position but descending might mean she would slip more.
"Stop, girl", bellowed the bald man behind her, "we will shoot you if need be."
They wouldn't, she told herself, they are so keen to get me alive. Joana could make him out just at the bank of the stream. Three men were wading uncertainly into the stream. A fourth was floating lifelessly a bit further downstream. The nearest of them was almost within arm's reach of the rock she was standing on. With that Joana jumped again.
This time, however, she had misjudged the distance. Stretch as she might, her feet plunged into the chilly water. Underneath they struck something hard. There was a sharp pain in her right ankle that made her give a high pitched cry. Her hand groped for a hold but in vain. The current was already pulling at her, dragging her downstream. She cried out again but only got a mouthful of water. Then she went under. Everything was a blur. When she resurfaced she caught a glimpse of the bald man and more of his henchmen scurrying along the banks trying to keep up with her. Then she went under again. She desperately flapped her arms in an effort to regain some control but the current was too strong. Then her head collided with a rock and the world went dark.
When Joana opened her eyes she was looking at the face of a wolf. She gave a start and immediately coughed up several mouthfuls of water. The convulsions produced a dull pain round about everywhere in her body that made her cry out. The beast, startled, lowered its head and snarled at her baring sharp teeth. No sudden movements, she told herself. There's only one. Maybe it will go away or loose interest. She tried to raise her head to face her opponent but even that tiny movement made her groan. Her head felt as if it was going to burst. There was a strong taste of rust in her mouth. She tried not to think of the rest of her body. The term running the gauntlet floated through her unsteady mind.
The large wolf was eyeing her cautiously, flashing its teeth occasionally. It circled this way and that.
Joana had slumped back onto what she realised was an earthy bank of the stream next to a large root. The pain in her head, her right ankle and various other places was making her dizzy.
"Come on then", she sighed her breath ragged and shallow. Another cough was coming up.
"Bring it on. I'm the easiest meal you'll have in weeks."
Another coughing fit shook her. This time it was not water she spat on the ground. While she was trying to steady herself the wolf came so close its nose nearly touched her arm. She gave a shout and tried to struggle erect but just flopped back down, convulsing in pain. The beast yelped and retreated a pace but never let its gaze stray from her.
"Do it then", she cried. Lying on her back she looked the beast straight in the eye. "Kill me."
Something changed in the canine's luminescent eyes.
"I don't want to kill you", it said with a voice that was neither male nor female but had a rasp to it that seemed like a purr.
For a moment Joana forgot her pain and even the wolf seemed surprised. Then the animal gave a sound like a confused growl and cocked its head.
"What -", it spoke again but paused as if uncertain. "What happened? What have you done?"
Joana just stared. The surprise seemed to make the throbbing in her head worse.
"I don't know", she squeezed out past gritted teeth.
"I understand your words", the wolf observed still bewildered, "you must be a great worker of magics."
Joana nearly laughed out loud. A sorcerer! She must have hit her head on a rock and had mercifully lost her mind. Still the pain was real enough.
"I'm no sorcerer", she replied after mustering the strength, "I'll just be dead soon."
The wolf edged closer. All threatening demeanour had disappeared.
"What happened to you? Who are you?"
Joana had forgotten all about that. Now as she lay on the bank staring up at the dark canopy of branches above her the events of that night came rushing back: the raid, being dragged in front of the bald sorcerer, her escape, her flight through the forest and finally attempting to cross the stream. How had she got here? She voiced the question.
"You had been washed up against that big root", the wolf said. It nodded its head in the direction in a very human motion. "I dragged you up because you smelled like something that may be edible for the pack."
"I still am. If you make it quick. What you'll do to me can't be worse that what those men have in stock." The last part she added under her breath but she hadn't counted on the wolf's sharp ears.
"Someone threatens your life", the wolf enquired, "why? Do they intend to eat you?"
"I don't know." Joana realised she really didn't know. The strangers had never made any demands - only they had wanted her specifically.
She went on: "They chased me through the woods from my village."
The wolf seemed to nod. "Foul men were abroad in the woods this night. Men with teeth the colour of moonlit water and teeth that bite at a distance."
Joana had never had time to note their weapons.
"They came not to hunt", the wolf went on, "I can respect a hunter - but they came only to kill. They reeked of blood."
The wolf shook itself.
"We will not eat you as I had intended", the wolf announced, "you are free to go."
Joana smiled weakly. After the horrors of the night to receive mercy from a wolf! She had given up trying to move. Her limbs were becoming stiff.
"I'm going nowhere. I thank you but I have no more home to return to. I will die anyway."
The wolf seemed to consider this.
Then it spoke again solemnly: "You will not die. You have awakened something in me. We will look after you."
With that it laid back its head and gave a long yelping howl.
Joana lay back. She realised the cold now and shivered. Would she die first of the cold or of hunger or maybe of some injury to her head? It was hard to think. She was utterly spent. When she heard movement around her she opened her eyes again. Four other large wolves had joined them. Joana tensed.
"Be not afraid, young human", the first wolf said in its androgynous voice as if it had read her thoughts. "I will stay true to my word. No harm shall come to you. We will bear you to a safe place."
"How will I know you", Joana groaned. The wolves had positioned themselves one at each of her limbs. Carefully they sank their teeth, not in her flesh, but only into the wet clothing. She felt herself being lifted.
"You may call my name", the wolf replied almost gently, "I will not be far off. I am Vucara."
It happened before. How could she have forgotten? In her dream - somehow she knew that was what her surroundings were - she was taken back years, all those years she had not remarked on the incident.
Walking through her familiar forest had heard the noises of a hunt some distance away. That was not unusual for the forest around the village was abundant with deer. Suddenly she heard shouts as if of a struggle. She started running towards the noise. Somebody seemed to be in trouble. In-between the cries there were also other sounds, not human but equally fierce: snarls and yelps. She ran faster.
In a small clearing over which the trees formed a natural dome of green she came upon a man and a wolf circling each other. The man was wearing richly decorated breeches and shirt though they were hanging in bloody rags in places. In his hand he held a slender sword. The wolf was one of the large grey kind that was visibly skinny as they sometimes were this early in spring when the winter had been particularly harsh on them. The fur on its back was standing on end, its teeth were bared.
She must have cried out or made some noise for the man turned around to face her. It was a move he was to regret. Without warning the wolf pounced. Before the man could bring up the sword he had hit the ground with the beast on top of him. The fall had knocked the wind out of him and the sword bounced out of his hand. The wolf was going for the throat when Joana screamed aloud.
She had fallen to her knees as if to plead with the famished beast. She certainly had its attention. For a moment the wolf stared at the newcomer as noticing for the first time she was there. Their eyes met.
"Stop", she whispered.
The wolf hesitated.
"This is my kill", it snarled. It had a voice like the grating of wood. "I haven't eaten in weeks. Now I bring down this easy prey and I will not share it with you."
Joana's eyes widened in terror. It could speak! Was this one of the werewolves the old stories were about? She hastily made the sign of the cross that the newly arrived preacher had showed her.
"Please don't kill him", she hastily exclaimed. "You will find no salvation for feeding on your own kind."
"I am hungry", the wolf howled.
Trembling with fright Joana went on: "I can bring you meat. We slaughtered a pig only yesterday. Leave him be, you shall have your meat."
She tried to make a soothing gesture but her hands were trembling violently. Still the wolf jumped clear of the man and began instead circling her. The man scampered backward bringing a few paces between himself and the beast.
"Why should I believe you", it growled.
"If you kill this man his friends will hunt you until they find you and when they have killed you they will string your fur on a wooden frame. That's what they do with man-eaters."
"Bring me the meat and -" Suddenly a slender blade was protruding from the animal's head on both sides impaling it. It was even embedded in the ground underneath. Blood gushed out of its nostrils. Its legs kicked for a moment, then it lay still.
"No more meat for you", the man said grimly. Satisfied that the wolf would move no more he set a boot on its head and retracted the blade wiping it on a white handkerchief.
Joana gaped at the creature had just been talking to. Then she was violently sick onto the springy ground next to her.
"That was an impressive trick you pulled with that beast", the man spoke again. Despite his powerful thrust he now leaning groggily against a tree studying her. He had replaced the sword in an ornate sheath at his left side. "You saved my life with it, so I will forget that it was witchcraft."
Finally Joana found her voice again: "He was willing to forsake his savage ways", she protested her voice still a shocked screech, "he was going to accept animal meat instead of a human's! There was no need to kill him."
The man snorted scornfully. His left hand was still clutching his side where the wolf's claws had obviously torn more than his chemise.
"You're a naive little girl to confide in the words of such a creature even if it was under the influence of your magics. Trust *me*, 'tis a beast to dangerous to let run wild."
Before Joana had time to reply several riders burst through the undergrowth. The leader, a powerfully built man in leather armour leaped from his horse nearly before it had come to a stop. Before the young man he bowed low.
"My lord", he exclaimed, "are you hurt? Forgive my carelessness. We lost sight of you in the pursuit."
"You have been negligent, Balger", the man said haughtily, "I was just in time to save this girl from a savage wolf." As he said that he gave Joana a meaningful stare. "Do I have to do everything myself around here?"
Balger lowered his head as if hit by a blow. Still Joana could see him trying to take in the scene, her and the wolf's carcass.
"Allow me to fetch the medicus to examine your wounds, your highness", he murmured.
"Just fetch me a horse, dim-wit", the young man snapped. He seemed to have forgotten his "charge" completely.
Balger nodded sharply, obviously relieved he was given a chance to make himself useful, and offered up his own horse. The young man accepted without a further word and let Balger help him into the saddle. Another man collected the carcass tying it to his saddle.
When the company had already turned to leave Balger hesitated.
"You should show some gratitude", he admonished Joana, "'tis not every day a young lass gets rescued from peril by prince Toben himself. Remember that name when the time comes."
She nodded, wide-eyed and was still sitting in the green domed clearing when the company had already vanished into the woods.
(... to be continued ...)
Wisps of mist hung low over the treetops as Joana stepped outside her tent and surveyed the scene that panned out before her. The sun had just risen above the horizon ahead casting its first rays on her face. The golden glare made her squint. It also glittered off countless sharp points of steel. There was still a chill in the morning breeze that made her shiver despite the heavy cloak. Around her the camp was already awake with activity despite the early hour. Several great beasts were being harnessed up before the bulky siege engines. Their grunts and snarls could be heard at a distance. She could hear orders being shouted. But outside the borders of the camp a deep quiet reigned. Much quieter than you would expect at dawn at the edge of the forest. This morning the birds did not sing and even the leaves on the trees seemed not to rustle despite the breeze that moved them. The world around her seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
Vucara had appeared at her side without making a sound as was her habit. She was already wearing her battle gear and was looking up at Joana questioningly. Their eyes met and there was understanding without words.
"It is time", Vucara said simply.
Joana nodded still deep in thought. Let the world hold its breath, she mused, today is the first day of my vengeance.
Tiny will'o the wisps seemed to twinkle gaily on the dark ceiling of her refuge. The thought was somewhat comforting. It made Joana feel less forlorn than she knew she was. The preacher that had come a few years ago had said the whole expanse of the sky was indeed a dome with holes pierced into it. The ancients, however, had said the tiny twinkling lights were the souls of the ancestral heroes, those that had died bravely and honourably. Upon death they rose up to illuminate the dark void around the world. From there they would look down on the lands and the people they had died for. Only those great ones whose souls burned bright even in life were destined to rise as stars.
Suddenly, in her damp gully, in the dark, Joana felt like falling upward into the sky. Was this what the heroes of old had felt like. It sure was stomach churning!
She lay back. Her sides were still burning from her wild race and her face and arms still stung from the twigs and thorns that had lashed at her out of the dark undergrowth. At least her breath was returning to normal.
Now the tears welled up in her and her breathing was choked by sobs.
Why did they do this?
The images were vivid in front of her mind's eye. The slashing and hewing, the blood, the screams of pain, the shrieks of terror and the wails of despair. Then the fire had sprung up at the bald man's mere gesture! Within a few heart beats, it seemed, the flames had consumed all she could see. She had pleaded with him to stop it, to take her and do as he pleased but to let the others go. He had smirked and called her a naive child. Revolts are born out of those that live to tell the tale, he had lectured her. So the gruesome spectacle had continued but she had squeezed her eyes shut and bitten her lip. She had bitten so hard the rusty taste of her own blood was still in her mouth. Or was that the blood of the guard's hand she had bitten down hard on when the bald man, finally satisfied, had ordered to have her taken away? She had then knocked her head back sharply and connected with something that had snapped and produced a cry from the man. He had dropped her and she had taken off running like never before in her life.
Blindly into the forest she had stumbled. There had been no time to think. Men had already jumped on their horses. And bald man had raised his voice above the tumult: "Alive, remember, we want her alive!"
They had just come out of nowhere, had attacked without a single warning or demand. The bald man had strode through the chaos and surveyed it like a schoolmaster surveying his pupils. When he had spotted Joana a single whistle had been enough to have two of his henchmen pounce on her and drag her, kicking and screaming, out of the mayhem.
She had raced through the dark forest like a hunted deer, desperately dodging tree trunks and lunging over roots, constantly afraid she might trip and fall or run into a tree. It was a miracle she hadn't. But she did know these woods close to her village well. The gully she was lying in would hide her from view even if they brought torches.
An vicious howl startled her upright. Dogs! They had brought dogs to track her. She was struggling to her feet before she had finished the thought. She ran again with a desperate strength that only fear of death brings out. This time though it was more of a frantic hobble than a run.
The creek! She might loose them there. Water always confused dogs.
There was more howling and baying now. As she plunged through the nightly forest she was certain that all the noise she made could be heard for miles. If she could only find the creek. She strained her ears to locate its rushing sound. She knew a place where the rocks were just flat enough... But she must keep running. Blood pounded in her head. She was beginning to feel dizzy. And still her pursuers were closing in. She could now hear the voices of men that must be following the hounds. Run, run, run, her heart seemed to thump in her head.
Then over the noises of her desperate flight she finally heard it, the gurgling and rushing of the stream. And there was the place with the flat rocks! Carefully now, Joana tried to calm her racing heart and gasping breaths. Slowly she waded out into the cold water. It tugged violently at her ankles, then calves, then thighs. Up onto the first rock was still easy. But she would have to jump across several gaps. She had done it before but in bright daylight and without armed men and crazed hounds chasing her. The moon had risen by now and the stars provided some light as well. At least she could make out the spot she had to hop to. Carefully she edged across the first rock. The second was just one step away. Then came the first wider gap.
Just at this moment there was a shout from behind her. She whirled around only to see her pursuers break through the undergrowth where she had come from. Joana recognised the hounds as the ones that had belonged to the hunter of their village. How on earth had they got them to obey the commands of strangers? There was no time. The hounds put up a racket of baying right at the bank of the stream and two began climbing the first rock. She turned and jumped. For a heartbeat she was sure there was no way she would make it. Then her feet touched the rock - and nearly slipped from under her. She wound up on all fours crawling across the treacherous surface.
"Where is she?" It was the harsh, commanding voice of the bald man. He was here, too!
There was an answer she could not make out. Then a furious scream in reply: "Then get her off there and bring her to me, you morons!"
She did not dare to turn around any more. Water was splashing all over her and it was chilling her to the bone. Half sliding, half clambering down she came to the next rock. She dared not stop. Behind her she could hear shouts, a pitiful yowl and a splash.
"Damn those dogs to hell", she heard the bald man's voice, "she's just there. Get to her!"
Taking only a heartbeat's time to gauge the distance she jumped again. As she came down Joana felt her foot slip. Her heart seemed to stop. Wildly flapping her arms she fell to one side. She wound up on the large slab of rock spread-eagled like a swatted bug. Water splashed over her soaking her completely now. Joana dug her fingers into what ever crevice they could find holding on for dear life. The bald man's shouting rose in pitch.
"Faster you! If we loose the girl I shall have your heads!"
There was a cry - half surprised, half horrified - then a sound like a ripe apple splitting on stone and a loud splash. They wouldn't be following her that quickly. With desperate strength she pulled herself upright. The next rock was not as easy to reach from this position but descending might mean she would slip more.
"Stop, girl", bellowed the bald man behind her, "we will shoot you if need be."
They wouldn't, she told herself, they are so keen to get me alive. Joana could make him out just at the bank of the stream. Three men were wading uncertainly into the stream. A fourth was floating lifelessly a bit further downstream. The nearest of them was almost within arm's reach of the rock she was standing on. With that Joana jumped again.
This time, however, she had misjudged the distance. Stretch as she might, her feet plunged into the chilly water. Underneath they struck something hard. There was a sharp pain in her right ankle that made her give a high pitched cry. Her hand groped for a hold but in vain. The current was already pulling at her, dragging her downstream. She cried out again but only got a mouthful of water. Then she went under. Everything was a blur. When she resurfaced she caught a glimpse of the bald man and more of his henchmen scurrying along the banks trying to keep up with her. Then she went under again. She desperately flapped her arms in an effort to regain some control but the current was too strong. Then her head collided with a rock and the world went dark.
When Joana opened her eyes she was looking at the face of a wolf. She gave a start and immediately coughed up several mouthfuls of water. The convulsions produced a dull pain round about everywhere in her body that made her cry out. The beast, startled, lowered its head and snarled at her baring sharp teeth. No sudden movements, she told herself. There's only one. Maybe it will go away or loose interest. She tried to raise her head to face her opponent but even that tiny movement made her groan. Her head felt as if it was going to burst. There was a strong taste of rust in her mouth. She tried not to think of the rest of her body. The term running the gauntlet floated through her unsteady mind.
The large wolf was eyeing her cautiously, flashing its teeth occasionally. It circled this way and that.
Joana had slumped back onto what she realised was an earthy bank of the stream next to a large root. The pain in her head, her right ankle and various other places was making her dizzy.
"Come on then", she sighed her breath ragged and shallow. Another cough was coming up.
"Bring it on. I'm the easiest meal you'll have in weeks."
Another coughing fit shook her. This time it was not water she spat on the ground. While she was trying to steady herself the wolf came so close its nose nearly touched her arm. She gave a shout and tried to struggle erect but just flopped back down, convulsing in pain. The beast yelped and retreated a pace but never let its gaze stray from her.
"Do it then", she cried. Lying on her back she looked the beast straight in the eye. "Kill me."
Something changed in the canine's luminescent eyes.
"I don't want to kill you", it said with a voice that was neither male nor female but had a rasp to it that seemed like a purr.
For a moment Joana forgot her pain and even the wolf seemed surprised. Then the animal gave a sound like a confused growl and cocked its head.
"What -", it spoke again but paused as if uncertain. "What happened? What have you done?"
Joana just stared. The surprise seemed to make the throbbing in her head worse.
"I don't know", she squeezed out past gritted teeth.
"I understand your words", the wolf observed still bewildered, "you must be a great worker of magics."
Joana nearly laughed out loud. A sorcerer! She must have hit her head on a rock and had mercifully lost her mind. Still the pain was real enough.
"I'm no sorcerer", she replied after mustering the strength, "I'll just be dead soon."
The wolf edged closer. All threatening demeanour had disappeared.
"What happened to you? Who are you?"
Joana had forgotten all about that. Now as she lay on the bank staring up at the dark canopy of branches above her the events of that night came rushing back: the raid, being dragged in front of the bald sorcerer, her escape, her flight through the forest and finally attempting to cross the stream. How had she got here? She voiced the question.
"You had been washed up against that big root", the wolf said. It nodded its head in the direction in a very human motion. "I dragged you up because you smelled like something that may be edible for the pack."
"I still am. If you make it quick. What you'll do to me can't be worse that what those men have in stock." The last part she added under her breath but she hadn't counted on the wolf's sharp ears.
"Someone threatens your life", the wolf enquired, "why? Do they intend to eat you?"
"I don't know." Joana realised she really didn't know. The strangers had never made any demands - only they had wanted her specifically.
She went on: "They chased me through the woods from my village."
The wolf seemed to nod. "Foul men were abroad in the woods this night. Men with teeth the colour of moonlit water and teeth that bite at a distance."
Joana had never had time to note their weapons.
"They came not to hunt", the wolf went on, "I can respect a hunter - but they came only to kill. They reeked of blood."
The wolf shook itself.
"We will not eat you as I had intended", the wolf announced, "you are free to go."
Joana smiled weakly. After the horrors of the night to receive mercy from a wolf! She had given up trying to move. Her limbs were becoming stiff.
"I'm going nowhere. I thank you but I have no more home to return to. I will die anyway."
The wolf seemed to consider this.
Then it spoke again solemnly: "You will not die. You have awakened something in me. We will look after you."
With that it laid back its head and gave a long yelping howl.
Joana lay back. She realised the cold now and shivered. Would she die first of the cold or of hunger or maybe of some injury to her head? It was hard to think. She was utterly spent. When she heard movement around her she opened her eyes again. Four other large wolves had joined them. Joana tensed.
"Be not afraid, young human", the first wolf said in its androgynous voice as if it had read her thoughts. "I will stay true to my word. No harm shall come to you. We will bear you to a safe place."
"How will I know you", Joana groaned. The wolves had positioned themselves one at each of her limbs. Carefully they sank their teeth, not in her flesh, but only into the wet clothing. She felt herself being lifted.
"You may call my name", the wolf replied almost gently, "I will not be far off. I am Vucara."
It happened before. How could she have forgotten? In her dream - somehow she knew that was what her surroundings were - she was taken back years, all those years she had not remarked on the incident.
Walking through her familiar forest had heard the noises of a hunt some distance away. That was not unusual for the forest around the village was abundant with deer. Suddenly she heard shouts as if of a struggle. She started running towards the noise. Somebody seemed to be in trouble. In-between the cries there were also other sounds, not human but equally fierce: snarls and yelps. She ran faster.
In a small clearing over which the trees formed a natural dome of green she came upon a man and a wolf circling each other. The man was wearing richly decorated breeches and shirt though they were hanging in bloody rags in places. In his hand he held a slender sword. The wolf was one of the large grey kind that was visibly skinny as they sometimes were this early in spring when the winter had been particularly harsh on them. The fur on its back was standing on end, its teeth were bared.
She must have cried out or made some noise for the man turned around to face her. It was a move he was to regret. Without warning the wolf pounced. Before the man could bring up the sword he had hit the ground with the beast on top of him. The fall had knocked the wind out of him and the sword bounced out of his hand. The wolf was going for the throat when Joana screamed aloud.
She had fallen to her knees as if to plead with the famished beast. She certainly had its attention. For a moment the wolf stared at the newcomer as noticing for the first time she was there. Their eyes met.
"Stop", she whispered.
The wolf hesitated.
"This is my kill", it snarled. It had a voice like the grating of wood. "I haven't eaten in weeks. Now I bring down this easy prey and I will not share it with you."
Joana's eyes widened in terror. It could speak! Was this one of the werewolves the old stories were about? She hastily made the sign of the cross that the newly arrived preacher had showed her.
"Please don't kill him", she hastily exclaimed. "You will find no salvation for feeding on your own kind."
"I am hungry", the wolf howled.
Trembling with fright Joana went on: "I can bring you meat. We slaughtered a pig only yesterday. Leave him be, you shall have your meat."
She tried to make a soothing gesture but her hands were trembling violently. Still the wolf jumped clear of the man and began instead circling her. The man scampered backward bringing a few paces between himself and the beast.
"Why should I believe you", it growled.
"If you kill this man his friends will hunt you until they find you and when they have killed you they will string your fur on a wooden frame. That's what they do with man-eaters."
"Bring me the meat and -" Suddenly a slender blade was protruding from the animal's head on both sides impaling it. It was even embedded in the ground underneath. Blood gushed out of its nostrils. Its legs kicked for a moment, then it lay still.
"No more meat for you", the man said grimly. Satisfied that the wolf would move no more he set a boot on its head and retracted the blade wiping it on a white handkerchief.
Joana gaped at the creature had just been talking to. Then she was violently sick onto the springy ground next to her.
"That was an impressive trick you pulled with that beast", the man spoke again. Despite his powerful thrust he now leaning groggily against a tree studying her. He had replaced the sword in an ornate sheath at his left side. "You saved my life with it, so I will forget that it was witchcraft."
Finally Joana found her voice again: "He was willing to forsake his savage ways", she protested her voice still a shocked screech, "he was going to accept animal meat instead of a human's! There was no need to kill him."
The man snorted scornfully. His left hand was still clutching his side where the wolf's claws had obviously torn more than his chemise.
"You're a naive little girl to confide in the words of such a creature even if it was under the influence of your magics. Trust *me*, 'tis a beast to dangerous to let run wild."
Before Joana had time to reply several riders burst through the undergrowth. The leader, a powerfully built man in leather armour leaped from his horse nearly before it had come to a stop. Before the young man he bowed low.
"My lord", he exclaimed, "are you hurt? Forgive my carelessness. We lost sight of you in the pursuit."
"You have been negligent, Balger", the man said haughtily, "I was just in time to save this girl from a savage wolf." As he said that he gave Joana a meaningful stare. "Do I have to do everything myself around here?"
Balger lowered his head as if hit by a blow. Still Joana could see him trying to take in the scene, her and the wolf's carcass.
"Allow me to fetch the medicus to examine your wounds, your highness", he murmured.
"Just fetch me a horse, dim-wit", the young man snapped. He seemed to have forgotten his "charge" completely.
Balger nodded sharply, obviously relieved he was given a chance to make himself useful, and offered up his own horse. The young man accepted without a further word and let Balger help him into the saddle. Another man collected the carcass tying it to his saddle.
When the company had already turned to leave Balger hesitated.
"You should show some gratitude", he admonished Joana, "'tis not every day a young lass gets rescued from peril by prince Toben himself. Remember that name when the time comes."
She nodded, wide-eyed and was still sitting in the green domed clearing when the company had already vanished into the woods.
(... to be continued ...)