Michael
It didn't take long for them to be intercepted by the Vargr-Släkt after leaving the safety of the walls that protected the dwarven kingdom.
It was the large brown wolf-kin again with whom Michael had spoken over a week ago. He was alone when he suddenly stepped out of the underbrush and in front of the caravan.
The guards were instantly on guard and moved their horses into defensive positions when Michael called them off.
“Greetings, it seems like you have been waiting for us,” Michael said loudly and moved his horse to the front of the caravan. Even on the back of his horse, Michael didn't need to lower his head to look the wolf into his yellow eyes.
“We have been waiting, lordling. My chief is eager to meet the heir of the beast,” he answered in his low and rumbling voice, his grin made Michael shudder, but he kept his cool. Michael was intrigued by the nickname the animal-kin had given his father but now was not the time.
“And where would your chief be,” Michael asked with a raised eyebrow.
“He is waiting for you in the den. You are invited to join him there and enjoy his hospitality.”
Michael's eyes narrowed, “Does he guarantee our and the dwarven envoy's safety?”
“No harm will fall upon you without prior provocation,” the still-unnamed wolf answered him.
Michael thought about it and decided that this was going to be the best he was gonna get anyway. “Lead the way then.” He could virtually feel the uneasiness of his men behind him as the wolf-kin turned around and began wandering slowly into the forest.
Michael pushed himself to follow without showing any weakness or reluctance as a good example for his men.
The journey got evermore treacherous as they cut further into the woods and the carts slowed them down considerably. The wolf-kin who had still not introduced himself waited patiently every time they had to stop to get a cart out of a ditch or untangle it from some other predicament.
What unnerved Michael the most though was the further they came on their way to this den; they saw other wolf-kin stalking them from the shadows.
Sometimes they just stood there watching them move past, sometimes they followed them for a while, and then again at other times, Michael could only hear them howl.
“How high are the chances that we are being led into an ambush,” one of the knights named Erhen Quinn asked quietly. He was the youngest of the four knights and looked quite unnerved.
“They are just trying to intimidate us. Stay calm and keep your up your attention,” Lance advised his junior even though he was only a year older.
“Seems to be working quite well on Erhen here,” Silas Bornholm, the last of Michael's new guard said jokingly. He was a veteran and worked through stress with humor.
“Be quiet if you haven't got anything useful to say. Keep your eyes open and be ready for everything,” Sir Tomp ordered with one hand on his hammer.
Michael tried to just look ahead as if he wasn't interested in the wolf-kin that were following them, but it would be a lie if he said he wasn't concerned.
The journey to the wolf den took two days. Their guide would vanish every time they made camp and reappear at first light to continue. Michael doubted that many of his men got a good night's sleep in those days, he certainly didn't.
At noon of the third day, their guide finally stopped and turned around. “Our den is just behind this tree line. I would recommend you keep your weapons sheathed if you want to walk out of it again.” He sounded dead serious, and Michael nodded before relaying to order to everyone. It gave him a strange sense of comfort that the wolf mentioned that they would be leaving again if they didn’t do something stupid.
As they stepped out of the woods and onto a clearing a wooden palisade came into view. It wasn't too impressive, probably able to keep away bandits and other smaller attacks, but a determined force would tear it down in minutes.
They approached a wooden gate in front of them and to their left and right emerged at least fifty wolf-kin out of the woods. They were already outnumbered.
Michael could hear the ten dwarven guards mumble something to each other and grab their weapons, but Solon stopped them. “Keep calm and don't grab your weapons or we will all die here.”
The gate opened and even more wolves emerged from inside making a corridor for them to pass through.
Michael had taken point in the caravan again, if they wanted him dead then he would die anyway so he could at least show that he did not fear them.
The horses were getting restless, but Michael forced his through the gate and into the 'den'.
It was a town, a little primitive in Michael's eyes but well-built. The buildings were built out of the local mostly bright wood and the majority had some kind of animal carved into the wood above the door and other runes on the doors themselves.
He could only see warriors lining the streets but some of them were a little smaller which Michael guessed were the females. Michael inspected the rows upon rows of warriors and noticed a warrior with a star-shaped patch of white fur on his nuzzle. He wasn’t sure why this one had stuck out to him this much and he forgot about it immediately until he noticed the same symbol on the nuzzle of a warrior a few crossings later and yet again a few crossings after that.
The whole road was lined by them until they reached the town square where a grey wolf in waited for them in front of a great hall decorated with some kind of large bones.
They filed onto the square and Michael immediately dismounted. All exits were blocked by groups of warriors and even behind the grey wolf was a wall of shields.
“It is true then. The beast hiding among men is dead,” the grey wolf said with a clear and calm voice. “I didn't actually believe it.”
“If you are talking about my father, then yes he was murdered,” Michael replied and stepped closer to whom he assumed to be the chief until he was standing right in front of him.
“Hm, I see. What an unfitting end for such a mighty warrior. I am sure his soul will find its way to your god.” He lowered his head respectfully and Michael returned the gesture.
The wolf then straightened to his full size and introduced himself, “My name is Greywind, chieftain of the wolf clan and ruler over these parts of the great forest.”
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“My name is Count Michael Rowan, new ruler of the Counties of Reen and Emall,” Michael returned the introduction.
“So, Lord Rowan, Moloch here has told me that you wish to negotiate with me about peace and trade,” there was humor in his voice, but Michael noticed something deeper behind it that the older wolf-kin tried to hide.
“That is true. I have successfully established a trade agreement with the dwarves of Garekha and wish to build a trading post on your side of the river. We would like to invite you to join this trade and with that establish peaceful relations with your people.” Murmurs began to go through the warriors that had surrounded them and Greywind seemed to ponder about what he had said.
“And why should we do that? You have lost your greatest warrior and both you and your king are merely pups. This is the best time there is for us to raid and plunder. You are in a position of weakness and that is why you come here to prevent us from attacking, am I right?” The old wolf gritted his teeth in a smile that might have been meant to look friendly.
“You are right, we aren't at our strongest, but neither are you,” Michael countered.
The grey wolf laughed loudly and pointed at his warriors before asking, “Where do you see weakness? We are as strong as we have ever been.”
“Then why have you not attacked us in the last year? It couldn't have been fear because you had no problem with raiding us while my father was still alive and present, and I don't think that it was because of a change in leadership. So that leaves only two options in my opinion, either you were worrying about someone else and couldn't afford to agitate the kingdom or you were too weak to beat us if we did retaliate.” He could see a couple of the warriors behind Greywind lose control of their expressions when he mentioned their raiding behavior and then he was sure that he was on the right track.
“Don’t you see all these warriors,” Greywind asked. “Ask one of your knights if they could take on our host.”
Michael frowned and then shook his head, “Chieftain, I am not here to insult you but we both know that this display of power was just a trick. I saw the same warrior thrice in your line. You funneled us through the long way to get here and circled your warriors around through the faster paths to appear to have higher numbers.” He could hear the surprised murmur not only from the wolf-kin but also from his own men who had seemingly not noticed.
The chieftain stood there in silence and so Michael continued, “I am also not here to trick you. I am here to genuinely make peace and establish trade with you.”
Greywind continued to stay quiet, and Michael began to get agitated when he finally opened his mouth. “You seem to be quite clever, but you are still just a pup, and we are hunters and not traders.”
Michael gritted his teeth at being called a pup again even after unveiling their little deception.
“Chief Greywind, do you think this is the best decision? There is a reason why there is a delegation of dwarves here. Do you really want to be in between two countries that want to trade and the only reason they can’t is you?”
“Are you threatening us,” Greywind growled, and Michael could hear similar sounds from the warrior named Moloch who had guided them here.
Michael took a deep breath not wanting to fall to his emotions again and calmly replied, “I am just trying to understand this. Why would you want to keep up hostilities when you could trade with us and gain much more from it? There would be no more bloodshed and no more misery resulting from each other.”
Greywind fell silent again and Michael began to worry that he might have overdone it. “I can’t make a deal with prey,” the wolf-kin chieftain said. Before Michael could speak up again, he continued, “So you must prove your strength. One of yours against one of ours.” He looked at Michael with an expecting glance and Michael understood. The wolves had to save face, so the humans needed to win and prove themselves.
“Then let me prove myself a warrior,” Michael said and stepped forward to the surprise of the chief.
“You want to fight yourself,” he asked with a frown.
“You want to make a deal with me, that means that I will have to show myself worthy. I will let you pick out the challenge that you find fitting.”
Greywind nodded and after a moment of deliberation shouted, “Dawn, get over here!”
Michael watched as a smaller wolf-kin made her way through the line of warriors. Michael guessed that she was a female because of her thinner snout but he couldn’t be sure.
The light fell upon her fur as she stepped out under the roof of the great hall and Michael understood why she was called Dawn. She had light brown fur which got even brighter at her belly and in direct light she looked like the rising sun.
“This is my daughter, Dawn,” Greywind explained. “She will be your challenger.”
“It will be my honor,” Michael said but Dawn stayed silent and observed him with the eyes of a predator.
She was at least a head taller than Michael and the muscles under her fur were proof for her hunter’s life. In her hands were a large round shield that might have been a little too big for her and a one-handed axe.
Sir Tomp approached him with his shield, but Michael waved him off and handed him his coat instead.
Dawn watched this and wanted to throw away her shield as well, but Michael interrupted her, “Please keep your shield. My second hand will not be empty, and it would be unfair if you dropped your shield for that.” She looked at her father who nodded and then she restrapped her shield to her arm.
Greywind then stepped between them and announced loudly, “The fight will go on until one of you is incapacitated or gives up. Apart from that there are no rules. This fight can be until death if none of you gives up. Do you understand these rules?”
They both nodded and the chieftain stepped back. After him followed a dark black wolf covered in bone talismans and began growling and howling something in their language which Michael guessed was some kind of religious ritual.
The wolf-kin began bashing their weapons on their shields and Michael’s men quickly joined in.
Michael knew that he was at a disadvantage against the taller wolf with more reach, but he would have the element of surprise on his side. That meant that he needed to finish this fight quickly though.
“Begin,” Greywolf yelled.
Michael dashed forward letting his mana flare up high. The power surged through his body, and he felt alive.
He feigned a strike to the right upper torso to get her shield out of the way but changed direction to hit her leg.
Dawn wasn’t so easily tricked though and reacted with the speed of a trained augmenter. His sword impacted her shield, and she countered with a strike of her axe.
Michael pivoted to the right to get behind her shield and evade her strike. She used this opportunity to ram him with the shield and push him back.
The cheers and shouts around Michael began to get quieter as his mind concentrated solely on the enemy in front of him.
This time Dawn was the first to attack. She jumped forward in a savage attack and let her axe descend on Michael’s shoulder in the blink of an eye. She was fast, probably faster than Michael.
This was the time for his first surprise, and he snapped his fingers. A small light explosion appeared and blinded the wolf for a moment in which Michael ducked under her strike and managed to get a cut in on her stomach. It was shallower than he had liked but the wolf-kin’s skin was much thicker than he had anticipated, and he didn’t want to kill her.
Dawn snarled and jumped back while shaking her head, but Michael wouldn’t let her get away this easily. He followed her and assaulted her with everything he had, one blow after another was intercepted by the shield as Dawn displayed superb shield discipline.
She then took in a deep breath and howled. The scream was strengthened to an extreme by mana and Michael’s ears were ringing and threatening to burst. He stumbled back and had to use all his self-control to not drop his sword to cover his ears.
Now he was on the defensive and Dawn didn’t give him any room to breathe. He dodged most of the attacks, but she was faster than him and he finally had to block a particularly quick strike with his sword. She instantly locked his sword with her axe and ripped at it with her superior strength.
Michael let go of it, not wanting to be pulled any closer to the natural weapons of the wolf. He tried to gain ground now that he had been disarmed but Dawn charged at him without any care for her own safety, the only weapon her enemy had was a dagger which he would still need to reach for after all.
Michael began to construct a sigil in his left hand and reached down to his dagger with his right. Dawn was upon him before he reached it, and her axe was aimed right at his neck.
Michael raised his left hand and Dawn closed her eyes; her strike was inevitable Michael wouldn’t escape.
With a devious smile, Michael activated the sigil, and a small wall of light, as big as a spread hand, appeared in the way of the axe. It impacted on the wall and stopped. Cracks began to form on the wall of light, but it held.
He pulled out his dagger and stabbed right at her throat. Her reckless charge, closed eyes, and the awkwardly blocked strike she had played right into his hand.
Dawn opened her eyes the moment she felt the resistance and confusion was pained all over her face when she saw what had stopped her strike. With this distraction, she was too slow to stop Michael’s dagger as it found its way to her throat and stopped right at it.
“Do you surrender,” he asked a little out of breath but with a shit-eating grin.
They stood there for a moment in that position before Dawn dropped her axe and announced in a clear voice, “I surrender.”
But no cheers erupted from the humans and no howls from the wolves as everyone just stared at what just happened.