The Wolf Queen

CHANNIN AND RAOUL ARE met by a massive stone fence surrounding Toma.

“Keeping someone out?” Channin asks.

“Or in.” He grumbles and clicks the reins against the horse. A man leaning against the wall stands and holds up his hand. The wagon rocks to a stop. Channin’s mind races, maybe using a stolen wagon wasn’t the best plan. What if they kept a description of each wagon the Order had taken? What if someone recognized her? Or Raoul? Or –

He elbows her and frowns, “Stop fidgeting.”

Channin pulls her cloak tighter around her as the soldier approaches.

“What’s your business here, wolf?” he growls.

“Visiting an old friend.” Raoul smiles, “Her name is Matilde.”

The soldier nods, “I know Matilde. Tell her hello for me.” He waves to the gate guard and the iron gate slowly moves open. It is carving a path in the dirt. Inside, the werewolves of Toma are stripped of all identity. The women wear simple gray dresses and the men have matching shirts and pants.

“Raoul, maybe this was a bad idea.” Channin whispers, “These people don’t look like they can fight anyone.”

He nods, “Aye, they’ve lost their spirit.”

She looks over at him quizzical, “Spirit?”

“It’s what connects our races. We were once the same, but Shapeshifters grew restless. They wanted more than just the wolf. They gave up part of their spirit, their life force, to gain it. Werewolves never did. We are the cursed because we stood by our traditional values, while our brothers and sisters dine in ivory halls.”

Channin winces at the personal blow, “It probably isn’t a good idea that I’m here, is it?”

He shrugs, stopping the horses in front of a bar. “It’s too late now.” He steps off the wagon.

The wooden porch is raised off the ground by one step. The logs forming the railing still have branches on them.

She stays put for a second until he invites her in. When they enter, everyone stares. The werewolves already know who she is. A lady in her early twenties steps around the counter. She’s wearing the same gray dress the other women wear but covered with a faded green apron. Her dark brown hair is tied up in a bun. She’s very thin for someone working in a kitchen.

“Well if it isn’t Raoul.” She leans on the end of the bar, “What brings you back here? Reconsider my offer?”

He shakes his head, “No, Matilde. William would lose his head if he didn’t have me.”

“Quite literally from what I hear lately.” She drops a towel on the table, smiling brightly.

He raises an eyebrow and tenses a little, “How do know that?”

She shrugs, “I’ve my sources.” Matilde looks around and motions for him to follow her into the kitchen.

A few small goblins race around, preparing evening meal. They are smaller than a redcap, hairless and wearing tiny versions of the Werewolves outfits.

“What happened in Paedleigh?” she asks.

Raoul recalls the event, adding his natural flamboyance.

She sighs at the end, “Raoul, I thought you said that Laneyth was going to be a new start. It’s Loskayze all over.”

“It is a new start.” He points to Channin, “This is Princess Channin Ozera.”

Matilde looks Channin over and turns back to him, “And I’m the crown prince of Atra.”

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Mattie.”

“Don’t call me that.” She threatens.

He sighs, “Channin, this is my sister, Matilde.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Channin curtsies out of habit and pulls her hood down. She watches Matilde and finds herself wondering what feature gives her away as royalty.

Matilde stares at her blankly and apologizes profusely.

Tokia is busy. The Elves race back and forth between tree homes. Small wood fences each contain a few horses. Small children race in front of the horses, Alloumera backs up a few steps.

“You alright?” Runir looks to Abarrane, who is shaking. She still isn’t comfortable with horse riding. It doesn’t help changing horses every few days either.

“I’m fine.” She glares, “It’s just nerves, Road Snacks.”

“Really?” he looks surprised, “We are surrounded by Elves and you want to keep that nickname?”

She nods, “Maybe we should see what is going on.” She nods towards the Elves, gathering along the fence line.

The pair weave through fences, everyone is shouting at something.

Runir quickly scans the trees and passes over a pair of reflective eyes, “Wolves.”

Without hesitating, he races forward and fires an arrow. There’s a yelp and a second wolf charges from the bushes. Another arrow drops it. The next wolves step out together and Runir draws a third arrow. He shoots one and the fourth leaps for him, it stops suddenly.

He glances over to Abarrane. She’s standing with her left hand in front of her, focused on the wolf. The Vampire slowly closes her hand and there’s a distinct pop and the wolf falls dead. The remaining wolves circle for a second and retreat.

“Who are you?” an Elf man asks, looking between them. He looks familiar, but Runir can’t place him. Straw colored hair that contrasts his tan skin and deep set brown eyes.

Runir steps forward, “I’m General Runir Phiceran from Polia. This is Lady Abarrane, the Ambassador of Dawncliff.”

“You don’t have a more official title?” the man asks.

Runir shakes his head, “We are here on behalf of- Uhm. Is there somewhere else we could talk?”

The man nods, “I am Nym, the chief here.” He leads them to the base of a tree and starts up the ladder.

Abarrane looks up the trunk, “Oh no. I’m not going up there.”

Runir shrugs, “Then stay down here.” He climbs the tree, leaving Abarrane at the base.

“What is it you wanted to speak about?”

“Abarrane and I are here on behalf of Princess Channin Ozera and the rebellion.”

Nym shakes his head and looks down, “I’ve already lost my son to the rebellion. Fairen never did anything wrong.”

Runir recognizes the name. Fairen was the only other Elf to stay with William at Paedleigh. He was quiet and often wouldn’t speak even when spoken too. He was funny though, with bright yellow hair, not typical for an Elf. He used a short sword and was alright with a bow too. The Elf is surprised at how much he can recall about Fairen.

“I know that words cannot express your pain, but he died a hero. He stood up for others, he was a fighter and had the biggest heart of any one.”

Nym looks up, “If standing up for others gets you killed, what is the point? My wife, Val, she was inconsolable. She took her own life.”

Runir frowns, “I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could have done.”

“You can do it now.” Nym turns away, “Get your Vampire and leave my city. I will have no part in your rebellion.”

“Nym, you don’t-“

“Runir of Polia, until you have lost everything, you do not have the right to tell me I do not understand.” Nym faces him, “I will tell you once more. Get your Vampire and leave Tokia.”

He accepts defeat. Runir leaves and finds Abarrane sitting at the base of the tree, three small Elf girls braiding her hair with flowers while she puts tiny magic shields around leaves for the boys. She’s having a good time.

“Come on, Abarrane.” He says, “We are leaving.”

A few of the men are looking over the horses. When they approach, the men back off a little.

Abarrane tries again to be accepting “They are all beautiful.” She looks back at the other horses.

“Is it true you know the princess?” one little girl asks, she’s got her brown hair in several braids.

Abarrane looks to Runir, asking permission and nods.

The little girl smiles, “My poppa says that her horse was born here.”

Runir nods, “It’s true.” He grabs Alloumera’s reins and hold him for Abarrane, “This is him, the great Alloumera.”

The white horse snorts and holds his head up high, apparently showing off.

“He was born black as night.” One of the Elf men says, “and on the coldest day of the year. He nearly froze to death. That’s why he is white now. We had a line-up of black horses and Channin hated all of them. She saw him and it was over. A horse can have many riders, but only one that truly understands him.”

Abarrane looks down at the little white horse and over at Runir, already on Gray.

“We’ve got a long way to go back to Ravenguard.” He says.

The Elves follow them to the edge of the city. “When you come back, maybe we can find you a horse.” The little girl says, dancing around, “We can put flowers in his hair too.” She laughs.

They say their goodbyes and start the ride back to Ravenguard. They are long out of Tokia before Abarrane speaks.

“What did Nym say?”

Runir sighs, “His son was in Paedleigh with us. His name was Fairen. Nym blames Will and the rebellion.”

“No offense, but if anything had happened to Ian, I’d probably blame William too.” She looks down between Allou’s ears, “If he had done what he was told, none of this would be happening. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy change is coming, but I didn’t lose a loved one.”

“What are you trying to say? That we should have let them march down there and burn a city down?”

She shakes her head, “That isn’t what I’m saying at all. But would the outcome have been any different? Families would still have each other.”

Runir sighs, “I guess I do understand, just don’t like to think that we were in the wrong.”

Neither of them realized that they had stopped moving forward. They are on the top of a small hill. Alloumera pricks his ears up and whinnies slightly. In the distance, they can see a gathering of white tents and a mass of horses.

“An army.” Abarrane points it out to Runir, “What are they doing?”

The Elf spins Gray around, “Tokia is the only city on this road.”

“Why take Tokia?” Abarrane asks, “What do they have to gain there?”

“It doesn’t matter to the King.” Runir says, “Just like Paedleigh.”

He kicks Gray sharply and the horse takes off back towards Tokia.

“Abarrane’s spell is working.” Ian watches the clouds move over the moon.

“Good.” Will sighs, “We need it.” He moves down the hill, staying in the shadow of the trees. “Do you see Able?”

Ian shakes his head.

“Neither do I.” Will confirms, “I don’t see any vampires.”

“You would think this place would be full of them.”

Will turns back to the band of Dwarves and Vampires, “Alright. You know what to do. Everyone get in place.”

They scatter, it takes nearly fifteen minutes but there is a small light signaling the last pair is in position. The teams are placed in trees randomly on the edge of the clearing. It’s 100 yards to what remains of Paedleigh’s perimeter, all downhill.

“Here we go.” Ian sighs, he holds up a lantern and quickly puts it down. The light travels around the forest and someone notices it.

He and a few other soldiers get up and start searching the tree line. The light travels back across to them. The soldiers watch as it reaches the center again.

Will and Ian break from the forest, reaching the horses. Will grabs his knife and cuts through the reins of one horse, it slowly heads for the forest. In a few minutes, they have freed the rest of the horses.

They split up, Ian to move weapons and Will to block the gate. Ian grabs a bunch of swords and dumps them into the fire.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice behind him spins him around. His hand flies to his sword but he doesn’t have time to draw it before the man jumps on him. The Vampire hits the ground and tries to push the human off. He doesn’t budge and Ian feels something brush against his neck. Blood suddenly covers his face and the man falls. Ian pushes him off and looks up at Will.

“We’ve got to go now.” He grabs the Vampire and pulls him to his feet. Ian stumbles forward.

The sound of the struggle has brought the other soldiers down and they are now surrounded.

“Good job, Ian.” Will sighs, drawing his sword. It’s not a large army by any means, about half of what they faced the first time they were here. Like he thought, Able is nowhere in sight.

Ian draws his own, “Just thought you might like the adventure.”

“We don’t want to hurt you.” Will threatens, “Let us through and we won’t have to.”

“You’re William Starker.” Someone says, “The price on your head is more than I’ll make all year.”

“So much for talking our way out.” Will sighs and takes a step forward, “I assume you won’t do this like gentlemen and fight us one at a time.”

“Doubtful.” Ian shifts his grip on his sword. The two stand almost back to back, sizing up the army. This is a small group, fifteen men. Clearly they were not expecting Paedleigh to be liberated anytime soon.

Will blocks an attack with his forearm and quickly cuts in with his sword. Pain shoots up his arm.

His mind goes to Channin.

“What are you doing?”

She holds up a mass of flowers, “Making a flower crown.” She is sitting in the center of a field of golden flowers. A blanket under her and her dress spread out around her.

He watches her weave them together, being careful to keep the stems inside. When she finishes it, she places it on his head.

“You look beautiful.”

He takes it off and puts it gently on her head, “You are the princess, not me.”

She smiles, “I’ll need someone with me.”

He shakes his head, “It isn’t me. I’m not made for that life, Channin.”

Her smile fades.

“Will.” Ian shakes him, “Will, come on, we’ve got to get out of here.”

The remaining three men are scrambling up the hill in one direction and Ian is pulling him the other way. William stumbles the first steps before his senses clear and he falls into step with Ian.

“What happened back there?” Ian pants when they make it to the cover of the trees, “You blacked out or whatever and went crazy.”

Will looks back towards the camp, “How many did I-“

Ian winces and falls forward, he catches himself and his hand moves to his right side.

Will kneels next to him, the Vampire is bleeding from a deep cut between his ribs. “It’s fine, let’s just get back to Ravenguard.”

A few of the teams start to return and one of the born Vampires studies the wound, “It isn’t healing. When was the last time you ate?”

“Food or blood?” Ian asks, as Will pulls him to his feet again, “It’s been a while for either.”

Vampires need to feed on blood every few days to keep their speed, reflexes and regeneration abilities. When they were traveling for the King, there was rarely a shortage of blood and Ian kept his strength up. Now that their numbers are down, he’s put off eating.

“Will,” the Vampire looks up at his leader, “He won’t make it back to Dawncliff.”

Ian quickly argues, “I’m fine. It’s not bad, really.”

“When was the last time you fed?” Will repeats the first question. He’s learned that the Vampire sometimes requires a question be asked twice or more harshly before the whole truth comes out.

Ian sighs, “From a human? Before we made the plans.”

“You haven’t fed in over a week?” Will nearly drops him, he looks to the Vampires and Dwarfs, “Get the horses and start walking, we’ll catch up.”

They do as told. Leaving Will and Ian behind.

Will takes his knife from his belt, “You should really go back to Dawncliff more if that’s the only place you feed.”

Raoul helps Channin onto a table. The whole room stares at her and for the first time, she’s intimidated. He nudges her, “Go on.”

As she scans the room of werewolves, the only thing she can think to say is the simplest thing.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I wish there were words to express how I feel towards the King. He’s taken all of your fight and fenced in your village. It isn’t right.”

“Say something to piss them off.” Raoul suggests, “Make them angry at the King.”

“Look, kid.” A werewolf in the back stands up, “If you’re trying to start a rebellion, go find the ones with something left to fight for.” He is giant compared to Raoul, twice as broad and at least three feet taller. Jet black hair and golden eyes add to his ferocity. Her instinct tells her that he is the alpha here.

Channin shrinks away but quickly recovers, “He sent his soldiers out here to fight his battles. And where is he? In Dragonspire, filling his gut. You want something to fight for? Fight for yourselves, for the werewolf spirit, fight for equality. You can stay in your cage or you can rise with us.”

The door flings open, the King’s soldiers stand at the door.

“Channin Ozera, you’re under arrest for treason and inciting rebellion.” A small werewolf marches over to her. He is incredibly small, probably weighing less than her. He has blonde hair and huge brown eyes that remind her of a hunted deer.

Raoul tenses up and moves around the table as they force her down. “Take your hands off her.” He growls.

“We can arrest you too.” The man snaps.

The werewolf who spoke out earlier steps forward, “Can you arrest the whole lot of us?”

The General takes a small step back, “If that’s what it takes.” He attempts to force the werewolf into retreating.

The werewolf laughs and picks up the General, flinging him over his shoulder. He carries him outside and sets him on the road.

“I’d hate to mess Matilde’s hall up. The lady works hard to keep her place in order.”

Channin struggles against the guards as they drag her along outside.

“What is going on?” She whispers to Matilde.

“An Alpha match. Fencer is the Alpha here and he took the General as a challenger.” Matilde says, “In werewolf terms, the General needs to defend his honor by fighting.”

“Why is he a challenger though?”

Matilde shrugs, “I guess he likes you. Fencer felt his pack was threatened and acted accordingly. He’s a wolf of his word.”

The two only exchanges a few words before Fencer erupts into his wolf, a massive and twisted black creature that exists between a man and a wolf.

The General pauses a second before changing too. His wolf is much larger than his human form would suggest. His fur is all different lengths and blended color of gold and gray, reminding Channin of a stray dog.

“That’s surprising.” Matilde looks over the General’s wolf, “And a little impressive.” She leans back, admiring him.

The wolves waste no time in beginning their fight. The General ducks and runs around Fencer a few times before the black wolf catches him and goes straight for the kill. When their leader hits the ground, Fencer’s teeth still tight around his neck, the other soldiers drop Channin and scramble for the gates. Blood pools around the General’s head.

“He will stand with you.” Matilde smiles, “You’ve given him something to believe in again. You’ve given us back our freedom.”

Fencer lets out a howl that forces Channin to cover her ears. The other werewolves howl too and soon, they bound out the gates as a pack.

Fencer turns to where Channin, Matilde and Raoul stand.

“It’s an invitation.” Matilde says, “He wants you to go with them.”

“I really shouldn’t.” She steps behind Raoul, “No disrespect, but we need to be getting back to Ravenguard.”

The Alpha races after his pack. Channin regrets her decision as they disappear into the night. Something tells her she will need the aide of the Toma werewolves.

“What are you doing here?” Nym narrows his eyes, “I told you never to come back.”

“I know, but the King’s men are on their way here right now.” Runir says, sliding down from Gray, “You need to be ready for a fight.”

“You did this.” Nym stands from his position beside a horse. “They weren’t interested in us at all until you came along.”

The Elven men slowly gather around. Whispers of fear and confusion travel around. The Elves are all clearly bothered by the presence of Svetozar’s men. No one is certain if Nym is correct and no one wants to stay and find out.

“As much as I would like to blame Road Snacks, it isn’t his fault. None of it is. But you need to do the right thing now and get your people to safety.” Abarrane doesn’t bother getting off Allou. She can’t imagine putting a rivalry over the safety of Dawncliff.

Nym stands his ground, until one of the Elven men steps forward. “I want to help you defend our village. For my daughter and her mother.”

A few others step forward. Then the rest of the tree folk. This is what the Order of Night should be, uniting people for a common cause. Abarrane is certain that her presence isn’t what helped here. Runir is a natural leader, Channin was right to give him power.

The Elf struggles to think of a plan, “We don’t have time to get everyone to safety.” He hurries along the rows of horse pens. Abarrane has to break into a run to catch up to him. “Everyone inside. Abarrane, how big of a shield can you put up?”

She freezes, “You get strength or size, Road Snacks. Not both.”

A whistle echoes through the trees. It sounds like a bird call, but it wouldn’t surprise her to know it was the Elves.

“It’s too late anyway. Block the road, Abarrane.” He takes off the other direction, “I’ll be right back.”

Abarrane takes a deep breath and puts her hand in front of her. The Elves have retreated to the trees. The Elves of Tokia won’t be able to hold off trained soldiers if it comes to hand to hand combat, but if she can keep them out of the trees, the Elves might stand a chance. The shield fades quickly and she tries to calm down enough to put the shield back. It flickers for a moment and stays, a faint shimmering purple against the trees.

The soldiers stop when they approach her shield. A silent stand-off between the soldiers and the small Vampire begins. An arrow tears through the shield and strikes a man. Abarrane is so shocked, she nearly drops the shield. A rain of arrows pours from the treetops.

The Vampire’s shield dies out as the soldiers press against it.

Runir grabs Abarrane by the arm and pulls her onto Gray, “Sorry, I’m late.” The gray mare takes off down the main road. Runir turns her down a path between fences. The big horse is faster than she looks, but turning proves a challenge for her.

“What are you doing?” Abarrane asks, “The fighting is the other way.”

“Not anymore.” Gray leaves the boundary of the city, the soldiers following them. Runir slows the horse down once they are between the trees, “Alright, can you put another shield up?”

“There’s a limit on how many times I can do it.” She sighs, “Give me a minute.”

The soldiers close in, “We don’t have a minute.” Runir stands up and whistles loudly. It’s one high pitched tone. He’s caught the attention of the soldiers and everyone stares at him for a few seconds. The Elf standing on the horse in the clearing.

“Uhm, Snacks?”

“Just wait.”

She does. After what feels like a full minute, eyes are seen peering from the edges of the forest. One wolf steps out first, growling and licking his teeth. The soldiers try to retreat, but are blocked as another wolf steps out.

“Never try to out fox the fox, gentlemen.” Runir turns Gray around and sends the horse forward. Abarrane covers her ears to muffle the screams and snapping of teeth.

They make it back into the city and the archers have kept the remaining soldiers at the boundary. Gray is only a few strides from the center of town when she stumbles and falls. Both Runir and Abarrane hit the ground.

Abarrane scrambles up when Runir is pulled from the ground and pinned to a tree. She flings a shield up between him and his attacker.

The Vampire looks away from Runir, the scars on his face give him away before he speaks. “Dear sister, are you running with the common rabble now?”

“Able?” Abarrane’s shield falters, “Get away from him.” She threatens, her shield flickering out again. Her mind isn’t focused on saving Runir.

“You’ve spent too much time with our pet Ian. You’ve grown a soul.”

“Keep talking and see what this soul can do.” Abarrane growls, “Let the Elf go.”

“This one?” Able tilts his head towards Runir, “But weren’t you always the one to say they were the filth of the forest?”

Abarrane’s shield slams into Able and throws him into the air. She quickly summons another and forces him into the ground.

Able pushes himself up and grins, his lower lip bleeding. “Fall back men. A few dirty Elves and their horses aren’t worth it.”

Abarrane stands her ground and watches them retreat before running to the Elf, still leaning against the tree.

“I’m fine,” he says, standing up. The force of hitting the tree has knocked his breath away, but he is alright. “That was awesome, what you did with your shield.”

She shrugs, “I didn’t really think they could be used offensively until the wolves.” She brushes a stand of white hair back, “Don’t tell Ian though.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He grins.

The sun is up when Will and Ian make it back to Ravenguard. The others have made it home already and everyone is fast asleep.

Channin has written a small note and left it on the table for him: Success in Toma. Ian heads for the basement to stay out of the sunlight, knowing sleep won’t be much of an option after feeding. Will paces around the table a few times before heading up the stairs. At the top, he turns left and slowly opens the last door on the right.

Channin is curled up, fast asleep. She lifts her head when Will falls into bed next to her. “How did it go?”

He puts his arm around her and holds her for a few seconds, “Not well.”

She rolls onto her back and looks at him, she can see her reflection in his gray eyes. “You came back.” She’s forcing optimism. She can’t help but notice a white wrap around his arm. It looks like it has been braided around his arm, creating a herringbone pattern.

“Barely.” He sighs.

She kisses him, “What matters is that you are home.”

He nods. They lay in total silence for a while until an excited squeal echoes through the halls.

Channin only barely lifts her head. Five minutes pass before there is a soft knock on the door.

Will looks to Channin for permission and she responds. The door opens and Ian prances in.

“Raoul owes you some gold.” The Vampire is clearly happier than when he left. Did the loss not affect him the way it did William? They had lost Paedleigh for the second time. Can you lose something you didn’t have though? They had lost Paedleigh once and failed to recapture it.

Channin tilts her head and catches on when Abarrane comes racing in. She smiles, “I’m so happy for you two.” She is surprised by Ian’s sudden courage

The Vampiress bounds over to the bed and hugs Channin, “You’ll help me plan, right?”

Channin hesitates, “Uhm, parties aren’t really my strong point.”

“Well, just think about it. Okay?” Abarrane smiles brightly. She stands up and grabs Ian’s hand and leads him for the door.

“Raoul wants to celebrate.” Ian calls back, “We understand if you don’t want to though.”

“I’m going to stay here.” Will leans back into Channin.

The Vampire pair leaves and they fall back into their comfortable silence. Channin’s curiosity overwhelms her again. “What did you do to your arm?” She has a fleeting thought that it might be a sensitive subject, but her better judgement has never been the best.

“I caught it on fire.” He kisses the top of her head, “Goodnight, Milady.”