Post by godly on Dec 1, 2009 2:50:39 GMT 10
The young wolf gazed out at the sea, watching as a single osprey wheeled about and struck the water, marvelling at what it would be like to have a life so free and pure once more.
Another wolf, black furred, came and sat beside him, shifting a coil of rope and the remains of a sail, ‘Still resenting the fact they caught you Arden?’ he said with a grin. ‘Chief Thor said it would be easier to volunteer for the military service early and get it out of the way.’
Arden shook his head, then ran a paw through his silver hair, ‘I don’t see the point to it Nethial. No reason, I can see, exists that we should serve this empire when we don’t even belong to it. They are soft and weak; the chief says we need their help but I don’t see how.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to Arden,’ the captain said, appearing suddenly, he was a large tiger, missing an eye and ear from a long repaid engagement with raiders. ‘You are unaware of the larger world like most Nordheimers, so you tend live in your own realms.’
Captain Kerrick went on to explain that the council of Clan leaders desperately desired a trade agreement with Thuria but the Thurians have never forgotten that foolish raid centuries ago. They wanted compensation, thus the two years service fighting for them
Nethial slapped his friend heartily on the back, and was about to say something when the lookout cried out, ‘Sail ahoy!’
‘Where away?’ the captain asked the lookout. ‘And what colours does she fly?’
The lookout put a looking glass to his eye, ‘Port, sir! And she flies a black pennant, two red crescents crossed under a draconic skull!’
‘Dragon pirates!’ the captain hissed. ‘Have they seen us?’
‘Aye captain, they’ve turned and put out oars.’
Whirling about, the old sailor started calling orders, ‘Double speed on those oars, put out all sail and every spare hand to the armoury! That includes those for the military. If they catch the Nari, we’ll give ‘em a fight to remember.’
Arden stood and shaded his eyes; looking out over the sea he could clearly see the outline of a long two masted ship, with black sails and pennants.
‘Come Arden, we will need to outfit ourselves for battle,’ Nethial hoisted himself to his feet. ‘I get the feeling we won’t outrun that ship.’
In the armoury Nethial outfitted himself with a long, bearded axe, long spear and a large round shield; Arden on the other hand could find nothing that suited him or that he felt comfortable with.
Soon all the arms were distributed and Arden was left with nothing but his bare paws.
The captain appeared at the door, to see what was taking him so long, ‘Nothing to your tastes lad?’
‘No Kerrick, nothing I want, I’ll fight bare paw if I have to though,’ the young wolf replied. ‘I’ve never favoured axes or spears like my brethren.’
Kerrick rubbed his jaw, ‘Come with me. I might have something for you.’
Curious, Arden climbed up to the deck and followed the old tiger to his cabin, Kerrick lifted two cases onto his map table; the first was wide and thin, with carving decorating it, the other was very large and from the way Kerrick moved it, very heavy.
‘Your father gave these to me,’ Kerrick explained. ‘When you became old enough to take part in the arena, I had forgotten about them until now.’
Rubbing the back of his neck the old sailor looked at the young warrior, ‘I tried opening them but I couldn’t do it, something prevented me from it.’
Running a paw over the larger case Arden rested his paws on the clasps for a moment, ‘Did he say anything other than that?’
‘Only that it has been in your family for a long time and that it’d help you with something.’
Taking a deep breath Arden flicked the clasps and lifted the lid; inside was a set of beautiful armour, a pair of greaves, vambraces, breastplate, back plate and pauldrons. All of it was made of what appeared to be blued steel and looked heavy, yet when Arden picked up the torso armour it felt feather light.
Kerrick tried to pick up one of the vambraces, yet he could barely lift it out of the case, so he left it where it was.
Arden slipped the cuirass over his shoulders and reached for the straps to secure the breast and back plate, but there wasn’t one, instead there were a series of clips, curious he pushed both edges together until he heard a click. Stretching and bending Arden felt completely un-encumbered, the pauldrons protected his shoulders completely yet allowed for full movement and though the armour hugged his torso it didn’t hamper his breathing.
Strapping the rest on, Arden looked at the second case, which was more ornate than the first and appeared to be older, much older. Inside it was a five-foot, double-edged sword, with a diamond the size of a child’s fist, shagreen scabbard, wire wrapped hilt, plain cross-guard and, when he drew it, a pure white blade.
Sheathing the blade Arden strapped it across his back; the straps, to both Arden’s and Kerrick’s great astonishment, melted into the armour, he didn’t have time to ponder it though and the first mate called out to Kerrick.
‘Captain, they’re pullin’ inside bow range,’ he called.
‘Get the rowers under cover,’ the tiger ordered, striding from his cabin. ‘I want every fighting furr under their shield, furl the sails so they can’t be set alight and pull the oars in.’
Following the captain, Arden left the cabin to stand amidship, watching the oncoming pirates, noting that, most were indeed of draconic appearance, the majority being lizards, the rest salamanders or crocodiles, ‘Myrians.’ He said quietly, ‘Damned Cold-Bloods.’
‘Where in Odin’s name did you get that, Arden?’ Nethial asked when he saw Arden’s armour.
A grim smile was Arden’s first response, his silver eyes glittered with a strange light, ‘A gift from my father, Nethial. You know I actually look forward to shedding blood this day.’
Nethial looked at his friend, his golden and white fur shimmering in the sunlight, the glow of his blue armour and the glittering halo cast by the stone in his sword pommel struck fear into every fibre of the black wolf’s being, more so because before this day Arden had detested fighting and bloodshed.
Arrows began to rain down around the ship, some stuck into the wood of the deck, some broke on shields but most fell short and landed in the water. More and more shafts hit the ship and shields as the pirates got closer; however, a few managed to find gaps in the shield wall to strike the furrs underneath; the wall never faltered though.
The Myrians pulled alongside the Nari and threw grapnels, making fast. For a few moments nothing moved, then everything happened at once. Boarding planks were run out, spears hurled and the first blows exchanged.
One spear flew across the deck towards Arden, he made no move to evade it; catching it in mid air, he spun it and hurled it back, pinning a particularly large lizard to a cabin door. He started moving, then he picked up speed, and reaching the rail he leapt out over the water.
As he sailed through the air, Arden drew his sword and raised it above his head, just before he crashed into a salamander.
With a lightning thrust he drove his blade through the hapless Myrians skull, his sword meeting little resistance, then vaulting over the corpse, bisected a second lizard, landed and sliced open a third. A whip-like stroke took the head of a fourth.
Twirling his blade to shake off the blood, the young wolf then noticed he was surrounded, a look of anger, directed at himself, crossed his muzzle; he should have paid more attention. A low spinning strike gave him some breathing room.
Finding path to the mast Arden made a break for it; reaching it he put his back against it and took a firmer grip on his sword hilt as the remaining Myrians advanced on him.
With a great sweeping stroke the bloodied wolf felled three more lizards and started the fight anew. The bodies were up to his thighs before he started to tire and by the time they reached his chest he was covered in a dozen small wounds.
Suddenly, everything was deathly quite except for the creak of timbers. Stabbing his sword tip into the bloodied deck; Arden used the cross-guard of his sword to hold himself up from the sudden exhaustion he felt.
‘What do we do?’ the first mate asked Kerrick. ‘Do we look for him? He was mad to do that, taking the fight to more than a hundred pirates, he must have a death wish.’
Nethial forced the decision by running across on of the boarding planks, and leaping on to the now silent pirate ship. The rest of the Nari’s crew followed. Every body was examined; ever corpse looted and every injured Myrian killed.
The first mate was the first to find Arden, surrounded by dismembered corpses chest deep and covered from head to paw in blood and gore, not a single glimmer of gold or white was visible, all his fur was crimson.
‘C-c-captain,’ the first mate called, his voice shaking, as he spotted the blood drenched wolf. ‘I found him.’
Kerrick came out of the main cabin, with several charts and a small chest in his arms, which he handed to another crewman, who took it back to the Nari. Nethial broke off counting the bodies. Both wolf and tiger came to stand beside the first mate, and saw the reason for his distress.
‘Gods,’ whispered Nethial, the young wolf had seen death but not on this scale and not wreaked by a single warrior; Kerrick whistled in awe.
‘I could do with a drink,’ croaked Arden as he staggered upright. ‘And use a paw or shoulder to help me get off this hell hole.’
Using the tunic of a dead Myrian, he wiped the blood off his sword, then he inserted its tip into the sheath and let the weapon slide home using its own weight. He would have fallen had it not been for Nethial and the Kerrick suddenly holding him up.
With great difficulty they carried him back to the Nari, almost dropping him on the boarding planks; when he was back on the ship and supplied with a drink he fell into a deep exhausted sleep.
Once everything of value had been taken from the pirate ship, the mainsail was cut down, folded up and stowed in Kerrick’s cabin. It was then cut adrift and set alight.
By the time the ship was nothing more than a burnt out skeleton, the Nari was well out of sight and continuing her journey.
When Arden woke, he found himself in nothing but a pair of linen pants. Sitting up he stretched, then stood up and took an inventory of his body.
‘Nothing but minor cuts and bruised tail,’ he muttered to himself. ‘I thought those damned cold-bloods broke it.’
Finished his examination Arden pulled on his boots; he strapped on his greaves and vambraces, pulled a shirt over his head, then he headed out on deck. Raising a paw against the sudden glare he looked around and saw Nethial standing at the bow watching the horizon, He turned as Arden’s approached.
‘Your timing is good Arden,’ the younger wolf said. ‘ I know old wolves like you need sleep, but all day and night?’ he shrugged, grinning.
‘I’m only a year older than you grey-fur,’ Arden replied with a laugh.
‘Shut it,’ Nethial growled, when he was younger his fur had been grey and he was still touchy about it.
‘What did you mean about my timing?’
‘Look straight ahead, to the south.’
Arden raised a paw and looked; he could see a large island a good three leagues distant.
‘How far?’
Nethial shrugged, ‘Kerrick says it’s about an hour with good wind and half speed on the oars.’
‘Three maybe three and a half leagues then,’ he looked towards the sun. ‘We’ll be there about noon.’
‘Aye,’ agreed his friend after a quick glance at the sun.
‘What happens next?’
Shrugging again Nethial headed for the hatch leading below deck. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. Captain Kerrick said he wanted to see you though.’
Curious, Arden started looking for Kerrick; he finally found him in the storeroom taking stock of what had been looted from the Myrian pirates.
‘Should make a tidy profit,’ the captain said to his quartermaster. ‘Those gemstones are all uncut and of good quality, too. They’ll pay for the repairs; new mast and sails plus we’ll be able to have her re-caulked. And the men will get a healthy bonus too.’
What about the bounty on the ship?’ the quartermaster asked, a large fat weasel. ‘The Thurians don’t like their soldiers going rogue and, that was a medium sized vessel. That’s five hundred gold Nuckles.’
‘B-b-bounty?’ Arden asked, shocked. ‘There’s a bounty on those things?’
Both Kerrick and the quartermaster turned, Kerrick smiled but the weasel’s face darkened. ‘Aye Arden that there is; and this one is rightfully yours. You did kill most of the crew on your own, you know.’
‘You mean you didn’t fight any?’ Arden demanded. ‘I couldn’t have, could I? I don’t have the experience to do something like that. Unless…my armour gave me the experience.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe my father would know, but he’s dead,’ Arden said bitterly. ‘Leaving both me and Skoll, alone, and with so many questions.’
‘Never mind that Arden. Just go pack, meet me on deck once you’re done,’ suggested the older furr, giving his young friend a push in the direction of the exit.
An hour later the Nari coasted into the port, made fast and the gangplank was run out. The new group of soldiers from the various Nordheimer clans left the ship first and were guided to the barracks by a waiting officer. Then the rowers and most of the crew left, only the day watch stayed.
Arden stood on the docks completely awestruck by the massive city: the tall graceful spires and massive domes of an enormous palace overlooking the city, to the great wall surrounding the metropolis, the masses and masses of houses and shops and finally the utterly staggering population, mice, squirrels, foxes, hawks, other wolves reptiles in all their forms and a few goats from the far east.
A hand clapped onto Arden’s armoured shoulder, ‘Amazing isn’t it lad? I was much the same when I first came here,’ said Kerrick, shaking the young wolf out of his reverie. ‘Where are the others?’
Pointing in the direction his countrymen had gone Arden said, ‘To the barracks I think. Now where do we have to go?’
‘To the same place,’ Kerrick answered as he started forward.
The old captain took a circuitous route and showed Arden many strange and interesting things that he had never seen before; glass being blown and shaped into a great many different things, weavers, fortune-tellers, silver- and goldsmiths and several revealingly dressed females. When he asked the older tiger about this he received an incredulous stare.
Upon hearing the answer he was shocked, ‘I never knew such things could exists,’ he said. ‘Paying for sex?’
‘You wouldn’t know, would you?’ Kerrick laughed as they drew close to the barracks. ‘In Nordheim it is something that is given willingly or taken forcibly in a raid, something I never agreed with.’
‘Something I never experienced either,’ muttered Arden bitterly.
‘Truly?’
The golden wolf nodded. ‘My fur and hair put them off. It was regarded as bad luck or something to have the colours reversed.’
‘Never mind lad,’ smiled Kerrick. ‘Now I have something important to tell you.’ He suddenly turned serious, ‘When your time here is finished you need to head to Valoria. You may have been told your father died, but he didn’t; he left Nordheim to wander the world. The last I heard he was the smith in the great gladiator arena of the capital Helzeth.’
A tiny spark of hatred and anger appeared in the young wolf’s eyes at the mention of his father.
‘You may by angry with him for leaving you but he had to. I told Skoll this when he was your age and now I tell you. You must go to see him. Swear this to me.’
The spark of rage in Arden’s eyes slowly died, ‘I swear it, I suppose I will find out the reason he left when I see him.’
Kerrick clapped him on the shoulder then opened the main door and walked in with Arden following closely.
Inside, sitting at a small desk was a large, old, owl, who looked up and blinked when they entered.
‘May I help you?’ he said somewhat sleepily.
Kerrick stepped forward and dropped the sail he had taken from the pirates, along with a small box. ‘Your missing Nordheimer,’ stated Kerrick, ‘And he’s also here to make a claim on a medium, cutter-class raiding ship.’
While the older fur was sorting things out Arden was looking at maps with battle strategies on them. All of them would be effective, though one or two would be prohibitively expensive in terms of life. Then he came to the last one near the owl’s desk, he looked at it and he knew it was a fool’s strategy.
His disgust must have been plain on his face, for the owl noticed, ‘And what, may I ask, is wrong with that strategy, young wolf?’
Glancing at the old owl revealed that he was watching with shrewd eyes, alive with interest.
‘Well to begin with, while this pincer movement, would almost certainly win with the numbers indicated,’ Arden began. ‘It would be a Pyrrhic victory.’ The owl started at such an advanced term from a young warrior. ‘A more effective strategy would be to form a hardened wedge of knights here,’ he indicated the thickest part to the south, ‘And to have heavy infantry leading the pincers, when the wedge strikes; the two pincer tips form smaller wedges and strike simultaneously from the top, then once all three prongs of the attack have cut deep order the reserves to strike crashing like a wave on the remnants of the enemy force. Resulting in a complete victory with minimal casualties.’
The old owl was speechless; he looked at the map then at the young wolf, who had, in just a few moment devised an almost perfect strategy for an attack which had taken the best Thurian generals days to devise this faulty one.
‘I think your problem has been solved Wark,’ said a large armoured fox from a nearby doorway. ‘You don’t need to appoint a commander for the Nordheimers now, they brought one with them.’
Stepping into the room the strange fox walked to the small table and looked a the map, ‘How long have you been fighting lad?’
‘Two days,’ Arden replied. ‘Two days ago I picked up this sword and killed for the first time. Before that I lived on my own in the mountains of Nordheim.’
‘Where did you find this one Captain,’ the fox grinned. ‘He has quite the sense of humour. There are ogres in the mountains up there and they kill on sight.’
‘As long as I didn’t harm them they were quite companionable,’ Arden said calmly, shocking the armoured soldier.
Pulling Kerrick aside the fox bent his head close to the captain’s ear, ‘He’s a Fenrir isn’t he?’
‘Yes, Dyne, he is. A sane Fenrir,’ the old tiger replied. ‘Two in two generations, and this one with a medium cutter under his belt; he isn’t afraid to kill as the last was.’
Calculating the numbers, Dyne’s eyes widened, a minimum of forty kills to a wolf barely into adulthood, yet he wore his armour and sword like they were extensions of his body, if he went mad like most other Fenrir wolves he would be almost unstoppable, a decision was needed, lives were at stake.
‘Wark, sign him in as commander and issue him a lieutenant’s armband,’ Dyne ordered. ‘He’s to see that his men a quartered, fed and armed. Tomorrow they begin training.’
With those fateful words Arden’s star began to rise, never had a military unit gained prestige so quickly, nor had a commander added bars of rank with the speed of Arden, yet as is the law of the world. What goes up must come down.
Due the fact he was an outsider the nobles of the Thurian court viewed him as a threat to their “purity” and gods given positions.
Their machinations came to fruition on his last campaign, where he had his greatest victory, a pacification of an upraising on the Island of Myr. Leaving his men to keep the peace he headed back to Clleria. However instead of officials he was met by a phalanx of heavily armoured Cold-blood soldiers.
As soon as his boots hit the dock he found more than a hundred spears levelled at him.
‘Captain, what is the meaning of this?’ Arden demanded ‘Why am I met with so much steel?’
The captain a lizard even taller than Arden stepped forward, a remorseful expression on his features, ‘I am sorry Commander Arden but we have come to arrest you on a charge of attempted regicide.’
Before he could say a word in defence, Arden was clapped in chains and marched, at spear-point, to the dungeons beneath the palace of the Sorceress Queen. He spent a cold night in a dark and damp cell that hadn’t been cleaned in months, he slept very little and what he did get was restless and filled with night phantoms.
The next day he was hauled the throne room and set before the Queen herself, dishevelled and still bloody from his last battle.
‘So Arden,’ she said her voice matching her white fur. ‘We welcome you into our house and treat as a most honoured guest, and this is how you repay us?’
Arden looked at her, meeting her eyes, ‘If I wanted to kill you highness you would be. My armour protects me from magic and there is nothing my blade cannot cleave. The only reason you live with me as the accused is simple.’ Everyone looked at him, including the Queen, and he realised that she was young, very young. ‘I’m not the one you want, if there was an attempt it wasn’t me, I only just returned, and if it’s speculation, then I have been framed. I swore loyalty two years ago and a Nordheimer keeps his oath.’
Muttering ran around the room, most of it was inaudible but several words keep cropping up. Impure, peasant, outsider were the most notable.
Then a perfumed noble stepped forward, he was dressed fashionably and primped for court, he was also large, a cougar, with sharp a vicious eyes, Lucien Sarthen. ‘Highness this wolf is a filthy outsider; he is obviously here to corrupt our purity and take over. I say we execute him and those he commands.’
‘NO!’ Arden cried. ‘Leave my soldiers out of this. If you seek an outsider for your witch hunt, use me as the target, but leave my soldiers alone.’
‘They must be part of this conspiracy,’ said Lucien, smugly. ‘We must kill them to be certain.’
Looking at this noble, Arden wondered what he had done to incite such hatred, and then he remembered the rumours he had heard a few months past.
‘You, this is your doing Lucien!’ he said, rage suffusing his voice.
‘Silence, peasant!’
With a roar Arden ripped through the chains binding him and charged forward, ‘Protect the Queen,’ Lucien ordered, thinking Arden was playing along with the lie of his own guilt.
Arden however ignored everything else; his attention was focused on the cougar. Tackling him, Arden grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air, then hurled him at the throne room doors, though the doors were solid oak, Lucien crashed right through them.
Staggering to his feet the cougar, torn and bloody, looked around, ‘Kill him, and everyone else in the room!’
Stepping forward Arden drew his sword; rage shone in his silver eyes and his fur glowed.
‘Step aside soldiers,’ Arden said his voice steady, betraying none of his anger. ‘You stay out of this and you live.’ The guards didn’t move, the held their position though it was clear they were scared witless, they had been bought.
Bringing his white blade up before his muzzle and whispered something to it, upon reaching the first rank he struck to the right, in the middle of the group, every soldier to the right of the one he struck was cut in half, blood spraying every where, he replicated the feat on the left side.
The remaining soldiers got a few startled glances at their comrades and a step backwards before the met a similar fate.
For Lucien time slowed down as he watched the golden wolf approach through a rain of blood as it dripped from the low, carved ceiling. He had time for one quick prayer of mercy before he was, once more, seized by the throat and lifted into the air.
‘In your next life, if you must make enemies,’ Arden growled. ‘Make them wisely.’ Placing the tip of his sword against the cougar’s sternum. ‘May the gods hold and protect your sorry soul so that at least someone will.’ Thrust home, Arden twisted his blade causing the noble’s ribcage to split open.
Flinging the corpse away Arden slashed the air with his sword to clean the blood from it, as he’d learned bodily fluids couldn’t find purchase for long on his blade or armour.
Stepping through the ruins of the oaken doors Arden looked at the young Queen, who looked as if she were about to be sick.
Sheathing his weapon the young commander bowed, ‘I apologize Highness, I was unaware that you hadn’t seen blood before.’
Regaining her composure the Queen looked at her commander. ‘No Arden worry not, we are in your debt for saving our life.’
The wolf smiled and relaxed, ‘My pleasure Highness, but I must leave you now,’ he said. ‘My two years are up and I don’t want to miss my ship.’
‘Wait!’ she called stepping down from her throne. ‘Is there anything we can do for you? You have rendered us a great service, greater than you know.’
Pausing Arden thought for a moment, ‘Actually there is, in the royal vault there is a pair of sabatons, of the same colour and type as my armour I would like them, Highness.’
The white and blue phoenix narrowed her eyes. ‘Done, someone fetch these “sabatons” and quickly.’ A servant ran from the room.
‘How did you kill those soldiers commander? You cannot use magic, can you?’ the Queen asked.
Arden shook his head, ‘No I can’t, there is magic in my armour and sword, a great deal, that was just part of it. It’s called a sonic wave.’
Soon a servant returned with what Arden asked for, they look like a pair of slippers made from steel, however when he entered it wasn’t he that carried them, but two burly lizards.
Stepping forward Arden picked them up and slipped them over his boots, they joined seamlessly with his greaves, he then noticed the Queen’s eyes on him. ‘Part of the enchantments on my armour, it is difficult for any furr to pick up, let alone wear, except for me. I have learned that it has bonded to me for some reason.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure why. Still I must leave, the tide waits for no furr.’
‘What is your destination?
Arden who was walking to the door, turned, ‘Helzeth.’ And he was gone.
Half an hour later a sleek three masted ship left port heading for Valoria. Standing at the prow was Arden, swathed in a voluminous cloak. ‘What will the morrow bring?’ he asked the horizon. ‘Where am I headed, where am will I end up?’
Another wolf, black furred, came and sat beside him, shifting a coil of rope and the remains of a sail, ‘Still resenting the fact they caught you Arden?’ he said with a grin. ‘Chief Thor said it would be easier to volunteer for the military service early and get it out of the way.’
Arden shook his head, then ran a paw through his silver hair, ‘I don’t see the point to it Nethial. No reason, I can see, exists that we should serve this empire when we don’t even belong to it. They are soft and weak; the chief says we need their help but I don’t see how.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to Arden,’ the captain said, appearing suddenly, he was a large tiger, missing an eye and ear from a long repaid engagement with raiders. ‘You are unaware of the larger world like most Nordheimers, so you tend live in your own realms.’
Captain Kerrick went on to explain that the council of Clan leaders desperately desired a trade agreement with Thuria but the Thurians have never forgotten that foolish raid centuries ago. They wanted compensation, thus the two years service fighting for them
Nethial slapped his friend heartily on the back, and was about to say something when the lookout cried out, ‘Sail ahoy!’
‘Where away?’ the captain asked the lookout. ‘And what colours does she fly?’
The lookout put a looking glass to his eye, ‘Port, sir! And she flies a black pennant, two red crescents crossed under a draconic skull!’
‘Dragon pirates!’ the captain hissed. ‘Have they seen us?’
‘Aye captain, they’ve turned and put out oars.’
Whirling about, the old sailor started calling orders, ‘Double speed on those oars, put out all sail and every spare hand to the armoury! That includes those for the military. If they catch the Nari, we’ll give ‘em a fight to remember.’
Arden stood and shaded his eyes; looking out over the sea he could clearly see the outline of a long two masted ship, with black sails and pennants.
‘Come Arden, we will need to outfit ourselves for battle,’ Nethial hoisted himself to his feet. ‘I get the feeling we won’t outrun that ship.’
In the armoury Nethial outfitted himself with a long, bearded axe, long spear and a large round shield; Arden on the other hand could find nothing that suited him or that he felt comfortable with.
Soon all the arms were distributed and Arden was left with nothing but his bare paws.
The captain appeared at the door, to see what was taking him so long, ‘Nothing to your tastes lad?’
‘No Kerrick, nothing I want, I’ll fight bare paw if I have to though,’ the young wolf replied. ‘I’ve never favoured axes or spears like my brethren.’
Kerrick rubbed his jaw, ‘Come with me. I might have something for you.’
Curious, Arden climbed up to the deck and followed the old tiger to his cabin, Kerrick lifted two cases onto his map table; the first was wide and thin, with carving decorating it, the other was very large and from the way Kerrick moved it, very heavy.
‘Your father gave these to me,’ Kerrick explained. ‘When you became old enough to take part in the arena, I had forgotten about them until now.’
Rubbing the back of his neck the old sailor looked at the young warrior, ‘I tried opening them but I couldn’t do it, something prevented me from it.’
Running a paw over the larger case Arden rested his paws on the clasps for a moment, ‘Did he say anything other than that?’
‘Only that it has been in your family for a long time and that it’d help you with something.’
Taking a deep breath Arden flicked the clasps and lifted the lid; inside was a set of beautiful armour, a pair of greaves, vambraces, breastplate, back plate and pauldrons. All of it was made of what appeared to be blued steel and looked heavy, yet when Arden picked up the torso armour it felt feather light.
Kerrick tried to pick up one of the vambraces, yet he could barely lift it out of the case, so he left it where it was.
Arden slipped the cuirass over his shoulders and reached for the straps to secure the breast and back plate, but there wasn’t one, instead there were a series of clips, curious he pushed both edges together until he heard a click. Stretching and bending Arden felt completely un-encumbered, the pauldrons protected his shoulders completely yet allowed for full movement and though the armour hugged his torso it didn’t hamper his breathing.
Strapping the rest on, Arden looked at the second case, which was more ornate than the first and appeared to be older, much older. Inside it was a five-foot, double-edged sword, with a diamond the size of a child’s fist, shagreen scabbard, wire wrapped hilt, plain cross-guard and, when he drew it, a pure white blade.
Sheathing the blade Arden strapped it across his back; the straps, to both Arden’s and Kerrick’s great astonishment, melted into the armour, he didn’t have time to ponder it though and the first mate called out to Kerrick.
‘Captain, they’re pullin’ inside bow range,’ he called.
‘Get the rowers under cover,’ the tiger ordered, striding from his cabin. ‘I want every fighting furr under their shield, furl the sails so they can’t be set alight and pull the oars in.’
Following the captain, Arden left the cabin to stand amidship, watching the oncoming pirates, noting that, most were indeed of draconic appearance, the majority being lizards, the rest salamanders or crocodiles, ‘Myrians.’ He said quietly, ‘Damned Cold-Bloods.’
‘Where in Odin’s name did you get that, Arden?’ Nethial asked when he saw Arden’s armour.
A grim smile was Arden’s first response, his silver eyes glittered with a strange light, ‘A gift from my father, Nethial. You know I actually look forward to shedding blood this day.’
Nethial looked at his friend, his golden and white fur shimmering in the sunlight, the glow of his blue armour and the glittering halo cast by the stone in his sword pommel struck fear into every fibre of the black wolf’s being, more so because before this day Arden had detested fighting and bloodshed.
Arrows began to rain down around the ship, some stuck into the wood of the deck, some broke on shields but most fell short and landed in the water. More and more shafts hit the ship and shields as the pirates got closer; however, a few managed to find gaps in the shield wall to strike the furrs underneath; the wall never faltered though.
The Myrians pulled alongside the Nari and threw grapnels, making fast. For a few moments nothing moved, then everything happened at once. Boarding planks were run out, spears hurled and the first blows exchanged.
One spear flew across the deck towards Arden, he made no move to evade it; catching it in mid air, he spun it and hurled it back, pinning a particularly large lizard to a cabin door. He started moving, then he picked up speed, and reaching the rail he leapt out over the water.
As he sailed through the air, Arden drew his sword and raised it above his head, just before he crashed into a salamander.
With a lightning thrust he drove his blade through the hapless Myrians skull, his sword meeting little resistance, then vaulting over the corpse, bisected a second lizard, landed and sliced open a third. A whip-like stroke took the head of a fourth.
Twirling his blade to shake off the blood, the young wolf then noticed he was surrounded, a look of anger, directed at himself, crossed his muzzle; he should have paid more attention. A low spinning strike gave him some breathing room.
Finding path to the mast Arden made a break for it; reaching it he put his back against it and took a firmer grip on his sword hilt as the remaining Myrians advanced on him.
With a great sweeping stroke the bloodied wolf felled three more lizards and started the fight anew. The bodies were up to his thighs before he started to tire and by the time they reached his chest he was covered in a dozen small wounds.
Suddenly, everything was deathly quite except for the creak of timbers. Stabbing his sword tip into the bloodied deck; Arden used the cross-guard of his sword to hold himself up from the sudden exhaustion he felt.
‘What do we do?’ the first mate asked Kerrick. ‘Do we look for him? He was mad to do that, taking the fight to more than a hundred pirates, he must have a death wish.’
Nethial forced the decision by running across on of the boarding planks, and leaping on to the now silent pirate ship. The rest of the Nari’s crew followed. Every body was examined; ever corpse looted and every injured Myrian killed.
The first mate was the first to find Arden, surrounded by dismembered corpses chest deep and covered from head to paw in blood and gore, not a single glimmer of gold or white was visible, all his fur was crimson.
‘C-c-captain,’ the first mate called, his voice shaking, as he spotted the blood drenched wolf. ‘I found him.’
Kerrick came out of the main cabin, with several charts and a small chest in his arms, which he handed to another crewman, who took it back to the Nari. Nethial broke off counting the bodies. Both wolf and tiger came to stand beside the first mate, and saw the reason for his distress.
‘Gods,’ whispered Nethial, the young wolf had seen death but not on this scale and not wreaked by a single warrior; Kerrick whistled in awe.
‘I could do with a drink,’ croaked Arden as he staggered upright. ‘And use a paw or shoulder to help me get off this hell hole.’
Using the tunic of a dead Myrian, he wiped the blood off his sword, then he inserted its tip into the sheath and let the weapon slide home using its own weight. He would have fallen had it not been for Nethial and the Kerrick suddenly holding him up.
With great difficulty they carried him back to the Nari, almost dropping him on the boarding planks; when he was back on the ship and supplied with a drink he fell into a deep exhausted sleep.
Once everything of value had been taken from the pirate ship, the mainsail was cut down, folded up and stowed in Kerrick’s cabin. It was then cut adrift and set alight.
By the time the ship was nothing more than a burnt out skeleton, the Nari was well out of sight and continuing her journey.
When Arden woke, he found himself in nothing but a pair of linen pants. Sitting up he stretched, then stood up and took an inventory of his body.
‘Nothing but minor cuts and bruised tail,’ he muttered to himself. ‘I thought those damned cold-bloods broke it.’
Finished his examination Arden pulled on his boots; he strapped on his greaves and vambraces, pulled a shirt over his head, then he headed out on deck. Raising a paw against the sudden glare he looked around and saw Nethial standing at the bow watching the horizon, He turned as Arden’s approached.
‘Your timing is good Arden,’ the younger wolf said. ‘ I know old wolves like you need sleep, but all day and night?’ he shrugged, grinning.
‘I’m only a year older than you grey-fur,’ Arden replied with a laugh.
‘Shut it,’ Nethial growled, when he was younger his fur had been grey and he was still touchy about it.
‘What did you mean about my timing?’
‘Look straight ahead, to the south.’
Arden raised a paw and looked; he could see a large island a good three leagues distant.
‘How far?’
Nethial shrugged, ‘Kerrick says it’s about an hour with good wind and half speed on the oars.’
‘Three maybe three and a half leagues then,’ he looked towards the sun. ‘We’ll be there about noon.’
‘Aye,’ agreed his friend after a quick glance at the sun.
‘What happens next?’
Shrugging again Nethial headed for the hatch leading below deck. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. Captain Kerrick said he wanted to see you though.’
Curious, Arden started looking for Kerrick; he finally found him in the storeroom taking stock of what had been looted from the Myrian pirates.
‘Should make a tidy profit,’ the captain said to his quartermaster. ‘Those gemstones are all uncut and of good quality, too. They’ll pay for the repairs; new mast and sails plus we’ll be able to have her re-caulked. And the men will get a healthy bonus too.’
What about the bounty on the ship?’ the quartermaster asked, a large fat weasel. ‘The Thurians don’t like their soldiers going rogue and, that was a medium sized vessel. That’s five hundred gold Nuckles.’
‘B-b-bounty?’ Arden asked, shocked. ‘There’s a bounty on those things?’
Both Kerrick and the quartermaster turned, Kerrick smiled but the weasel’s face darkened. ‘Aye Arden that there is; and this one is rightfully yours. You did kill most of the crew on your own, you know.’
‘You mean you didn’t fight any?’ Arden demanded. ‘I couldn’t have, could I? I don’t have the experience to do something like that. Unless…my armour gave me the experience.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe my father would know, but he’s dead,’ Arden said bitterly. ‘Leaving both me and Skoll, alone, and with so many questions.’
‘Never mind that Arden. Just go pack, meet me on deck once you’re done,’ suggested the older furr, giving his young friend a push in the direction of the exit.
An hour later the Nari coasted into the port, made fast and the gangplank was run out. The new group of soldiers from the various Nordheimer clans left the ship first and were guided to the barracks by a waiting officer. Then the rowers and most of the crew left, only the day watch stayed.
Arden stood on the docks completely awestruck by the massive city: the tall graceful spires and massive domes of an enormous palace overlooking the city, to the great wall surrounding the metropolis, the masses and masses of houses and shops and finally the utterly staggering population, mice, squirrels, foxes, hawks, other wolves reptiles in all their forms and a few goats from the far east.
A hand clapped onto Arden’s armoured shoulder, ‘Amazing isn’t it lad? I was much the same when I first came here,’ said Kerrick, shaking the young wolf out of his reverie. ‘Where are the others?’
Pointing in the direction his countrymen had gone Arden said, ‘To the barracks I think. Now where do we have to go?’
‘To the same place,’ Kerrick answered as he started forward.
The old captain took a circuitous route and showed Arden many strange and interesting things that he had never seen before; glass being blown and shaped into a great many different things, weavers, fortune-tellers, silver- and goldsmiths and several revealingly dressed females. When he asked the older tiger about this he received an incredulous stare.
Upon hearing the answer he was shocked, ‘I never knew such things could exists,’ he said. ‘Paying for sex?’
‘You wouldn’t know, would you?’ Kerrick laughed as they drew close to the barracks. ‘In Nordheim it is something that is given willingly or taken forcibly in a raid, something I never agreed with.’
‘Something I never experienced either,’ muttered Arden bitterly.
‘Truly?’
The golden wolf nodded. ‘My fur and hair put them off. It was regarded as bad luck or something to have the colours reversed.’
‘Never mind lad,’ smiled Kerrick. ‘Now I have something important to tell you.’ He suddenly turned serious, ‘When your time here is finished you need to head to Valoria. You may have been told your father died, but he didn’t; he left Nordheim to wander the world. The last I heard he was the smith in the great gladiator arena of the capital Helzeth.’
A tiny spark of hatred and anger appeared in the young wolf’s eyes at the mention of his father.
‘You may by angry with him for leaving you but he had to. I told Skoll this when he was your age and now I tell you. You must go to see him. Swear this to me.’
The spark of rage in Arden’s eyes slowly died, ‘I swear it, I suppose I will find out the reason he left when I see him.’
Kerrick clapped him on the shoulder then opened the main door and walked in with Arden following closely.
Inside, sitting at a small desk was a large, old, owl, who looked up and blinked when they entered.
‘May I help you?’ he said somewhat sleepily.
Kerrick stepped forward and dropped the sail he had taken from the pirates, along with a small box. ‘Your missing Nordheimer,’ stated Kerrick, ‘And he’s also here to make a claim on a medium, cutter-class raiding ship.’
While the older fur was sorting things out Arden was looking at maps with battle strategies on them. All of them would be effective, though one or two would be prohibitively expensive in terms of life. Then he came to the last one near the owl’s desk, he looked at it and he knew it was a fool’s strategy.
His disgust must have been plain on his face, for the owl noticed, ‘And what, may I ask, is wrong with that strategy, young wolf?’
Glancing at the old owl revealed that he was watching with shrewd eyes, alive with interest.
‘Well to begin with, while this pincer movement, would almost certainly win with the numbers indicated,’ Arden began. ‘It would be a Pyrrhic victory.’ The owl started at such an advanced term from a young warrior. ‘A more effective strategy would be to form a hardened wedge of knights here,’ he indicated the thickest part to the south, ‘And to have heavy infantry leading the pincers, when the wedge strikes; the two pincer tips form smaller wedges and strike simultaneously from the top, then once all three prongs of the attack have cut deep order the reserves to strike crashing like a wave on the remnants of the enemy force. Resulting in a complete victory with minimal casualties.’
The old owl was speechless; he looked at the map then at the young wolf, who had, in just a few moment devised an almost perfect strategy for an attack which had taken the best Thurian generals days to devise this faulty one.
‘I think your problem has been solved Wark,’ said a large armoured fox from a nearby doorway. ‘You don’t need to appoint a commander for the Nordheimers now, they brought one with them.’
Stepping into the room the strange fox walked to the small table and looked a the map, ‘How long have you been fighting lad?’
‘Two days,’ Arden replied. ‘Two days ago I picked up this sword and killed for the first time. Before that I lived on my own in the mountains of Nordheim.’
‘Where did you find this one Captain,’ the fox grinned. ‘He has quite the sense of humour. There are ogres in the mountains up there and they kill on sight.’
‘As long as I didn’t harm them they were quite companionable,’ Arden said calmly, shocking the armoured soldier.
Pulling Kerrick aside the fox bent his head close to the captain’s ear, ‘He’s a Fenrir isn’t he?’
‘Yes, Dyne, he is. A sane Fenrir,’ the old tiger replied. ‘Two in two generations, and this one with a medium cutter under his belt; he isn’t afraid to kill as the last was.’
Calculating the numbers, Dyne’s eyes widened, a minimum of forty kills to a wolf barely into adulthood, yet he wore his armour and sword like they were extensions of his body, if he went mad like most other Fenrir wolves he would be almost unstoppable, a decision was needed, lives were at stake.
‘Wark, sign him in as commander and issue him a lieutenant’s armband,’ Dyne ordered. ‘He’s to see that his men a quartered, fed and armed. Tomorrow they begin training.’
With those fateful words Arden’s star began to rise, never had a military unit gained prestige so quickly, nor had a commander added bars of rank with the speed of Arden, yet as is the law of the world. What goes up must come down.
Due the fact he was an outsider the nobles of the Thurian court viewed him as a threat to their “purity” and gods given positions.
Their machinations came to fruition on his last campaign, where he had his greatest victory, a pacification of an upraising on the Island of Myr. Leaving his men to keep the peace he headed back to Clleria. However instead of officials he was met by a phalanx of heavily armoured Cold-blood soldiers.
As soon as his boots hit the dock he found more than a hundred spears levelled at him.
‘Captain, what is the meaning of this?’ Arden demanded ‘Why am I met with so much steel?’
The captain a lizard even taller than Arden stepped forward, a remorseful expression on his features, ‘I am sorry Commander Arden but we have come to arrest you on a charge of attempted regicide.’
Before he could say a word in defence, Arden was clapped in chains and marched, at spear-point, to the dungeons beneath the palace of the Sorceress Queen. He spent a cold night in a dark and damp cell that hadn’t been cleaned in months, he slept very little and what he did get was restless and filled with night phantoms.
The next day he was hauled the throne room and set before the Queen herself, dishevelled and still bloody from his last battle.
‘So Arden,’ she said her voice matching her white fur. ‘We welcome you into our house and treat as a most honoured guest, and this is how you repay us?’
Arden looked at her, meeting her eyes, ‘If I wanted to kill you highness you would be. My armour protects me from magic and there is nothing my blade cannot cleave. The only reason you live with me as the accused is simple.’ Everyone looked at him, including the Queen, and he realised that she was young, very young. ‘I’m not the one you want, if there was an attempt it wasn’t me, I only just returned, and if it’s speculation, then I have been framed. I swore loyalty two years ago and a Nordheimer keeps his oath.’
Muttering ran around the room, most of it was inaudible but several words keep cropping up. Impure, peasant, outsider were the most notable.
Then a perfumed noble stepped forward, he was dressed fashionably and primped for court, he was also large, a cougar, with sharp a vicious eyes, Lucien Sarthen. ‘Highness this wolf is a filthy outsider; he is obviously here to corrupt our purity and take over. I say we execute him and those he commands.’
‘NO!’ Arden cried. ‘Leave my soldiers out of this. If you seek an outsider for your witch hunt, use me as the target, but leave my soldiers alone.’
‘They must be part of this conspiracy,’ said Lucien, smugly. ‘We must kill them to be certain.’
Looking at this noble, Arden wondered what he had done to incite such hatred, and then he remembered the rumours he had heard a few months past.
‘You, this is your doing Lucien!’ he said, rage suffusing his voice.
‘Silence, peasant!’
With a roar Arden ripped through the chains binding him and charged forward, ‘Protect the Queen,’ Lucien ordered, thinking Arden was playing along with the lie of his own guilt.
Arden however ignored everything else; his attention was focused on the cougar. Tackling him, Arden grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air, then hurled him at the throne room doors, though the doors were solid oak, Lucien crashed right through them.
Staggering to his feet the cougar, torn and bloody, looked around, ‘Kill him, and everyone else in the room!’
Stepping forward Arden drew his sword; rage shone in his silver eyes and his fur glowed.
‘Step aside soldiers,’ Arden said his voice steady, betraying none of his anger. ‘You stay out of this and you live.’ The guards didn’t move, the held their position though it was clear they were scared witless, they had been bought.
Bringing his white blade up before his muzzle and whispered something to it, upon reaching the first rank he struck to the right, in the middle of the group, every soldier to the right of the one he struck was cut in half, blood spraying every where, he replicated the feat on the left side.
The remaining soldiers got a few startled glances at their comrades and a step backwards before the met a similar fate.
For Lucien time slowed down as he watched the golden wolf approach through a rain of blood as it dripped from the low, carved ceiling. He had time for one quick prayer of mercy before he was, once more, seized by the throat and lifted into the air.
‘In your next life, if you must make enemies,’ Arden growled. ‘Make them wisely.’ Placing the tip of his sword against the cougar’s sternum. ‘May the gods hold and protect your sorry soul so that at least someone will.’ Thrust home, Arden twisted his blade causing the noble’s ribcage to split open.
Flinging the corpse away Arden slashed the air with his sword to clean the blood from it, as he’d learned bodily fluids couldn’t find purchase for long on his blade or armour.
Stepping through the ruins of the oaken doors Arden looked at the young Queen, who looked as if she were about to be sick.
Sheathing his weapon the young commander bowed, ‘I apologize Highness, I was unaware that you hadn’t seen blood before.’
Regaining her composure the Queen looked at her commander. ‘No Arden worry not, we are in your debt for saving our life.’
The wolf smiled and relaxed, ‘My pleasure Highness, but I must leave you now,’ he said. ‘My two years are up and I don’t want to miss my ship.’
‘Wait!’ she called stepping down from her throne. ‘Is there anything we can do for you? You have rendered us a great service, greater than you know.’
Pausing Arden thought for a moment, ‘Actually there is, in the royal vault there is a pair of sabatons, of the same colour and type as my armour I would like them, Highness.’
The white and blue phoenix narrowed her eyes. ‘Done, someone fetch these “sabatons” and quickly.’ A servant ran from the room.
‘How did you kill those soldiers commander? You cannot use magic, can you?’ the Queen asked.
Arden shook his head, ‘No I can’t, there is magic in my armour and sword, a great deal, that was just part of it. It’s called a sonic wave.’
Soon a servant returned with what Arden asked for, they look like a pair of slippers made from steel, however when he entered it wasn’t he that carried them, but two burly lizards.
Stepping forward Arden picked them up and slipped them over his boots, they joined seamlessly with his greaves, he then noticed the Queen’s eyes on him. ‘Part of the enchantments on my armour, it is difficult for any furr to pick up, let alone wear, except for me. I have learned that it has bonded to me for some reason.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure why. Still I must leave, the tide waits for no furr.’
‘What is your destination?
Arden who was walking to the door, turned, ‘Helzeth.’ And he was gone.
Half an hour later a sleek three masted ship left port heading for Valoria. Standing at the prow was Arden, swathed in a voluminous cloak. ‘What will the morrow bring?’ he asked the horizon. ‘Where am I headed, where am will I end up?’
