The Wolves of Gryning: Chapter 6
Chapter 6: Kvalsdimm
The King and his forces travelled on foot. Besegrare said it was unlikely their foe had taken to the sea, so they should patrol the roads on the way down Inthil. He dared not tell anyone about his dreams, about the forces he'd seen marching past ruined Inthil and up the road North. They wouldn't believe him, and what if they did? Knowing Inthil had already fallen wouldn't instill any confidence.
The road to Inthil was not well traveled, for beasts generally stayed within their own quiet kingdoms. Few were even aware that Besegrare was their rightful ruler, and had no real sense of government. They were low, low villages, lost deep amidst the fierce pines and towering oaks. They had entered the Kvalsdimm, the throng of forest that covered much of the Northern Kingdoms. It was an ecosystem all its own, and between frigid trunks they walked its hallowed halls, breathed its sacred mists. The enormous trees were the colors of burnt ash, all blacks and greys streaked white.
"It is the Flame," said Irda, "Burning quietly all around us. That is why they look burned. For they have burned and burn even now, if you would but look for it. And if you would listen, you might hear it crackling and roaring. It is there."
There were none who could doubt the holiness of the place. They felt the weight of that divinity like weights around their necks. Besegrare could feel the eyes of Valenthi upon him and prayed only that they smiled. But there was something else. Something too like the eyes of others, and too close.
Valdigt noticed it too. He saw the ridges of her nostrils flare and her hand reach for her sword. Besegrare's swordbearer, a wolf named Seshi, stepped forward and offered the weapon to the king. He shook it away, but Valdigt eased her weapon from its sheath.
"Something's here," she said.
"I feel it," he agreed. Besegrare raised a hand and called the troops to a halt. As they fell into place, a shadow descended from the trees and branches.
The troops dropped into a defensive position. On all sides they were surrounded by beasts in billowing cloaks, full of pockets and pouches. Foxes. They kept their hands hidden in big sleeves and held a million tiny darts and daggers. They were answered by the glinting swords and spears of the wolves.
"Explain yourselves!" Besegrare roared. Valdigt was not shy with her weapon. She had it up and out immediately, feet spread apart, bracing.
"We have made no attack," the voice came drifting from the foxes like smoke. They couldn't trace it to its owner, and it seemed to slip in and out of the leaves with the wind. "Yet you look ready to strike. What are we to make of this?"
"We draw our weapons in preparation," Besegrare said. "You surround us, not the other way around."
"Yes," said the voice. It was behind him, and he turned, only for it to be at his front again. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps you have the only right to feel threatened."
A fox stepped out from the ranks, his red cloak flapping about his ankles. He bowed low, his chest nearly scraping the dirt, then bounced back up. He raised one matted paw and pointed to the ring he wore.
"Tanda, Prince of Hollow," he said. "That's my name, I mean. And I also mean you no harm or injury."
"What do you mean then?" Besegrare said.
"I'm simply walking some friends of the Court through the Foxwoods, that's all."
"You are a long way from the woods, and longer still from the Court of Hollow. These are our kingdoms."
"Right again," said the fox. "But the woods... Well. They aren't what they used to be. They're restless with ghosts these days. The twilit wood is overfull, I suppose, and the spirits have nowhere else to flee. Our own home is a danger to us."
"The sorcerer," said Nashil. She stood back, for she was unaccustomed to combat. She had been armed with a small dirk, barely a blade, and she had never had to use it before. Now she had emerged from the line of troops and stood next to Besegrare.
"It's the sorcerer," she repeated. "He's moved on from Inthil with his army of dead."
"Sorcerer?" said the fox. "Maybe. My kind have not had the time to ponder the source of our enemy. They descended swiftly upon us and many were killed. Myself and my little band are only a few of those remaining."
"I don't trust the word of this fox," Besegrare said. "I'm ambushed, then told that my assailants are really the victims. How can your word be reputable when you surround us?"
"Not reputable?" Tanda said. "Why - Listen here. I'm not afraid of you. I'll have words with you over this. Me and my fellows won't back down until we hear an apology."
"You want an apology? What sort of apology do you mean?"
"For starters, you could have your guard back down. Until that happens I don't think I can feel safe."
Tanda huffed a little bit and his fur bristled up all over his body.
"Once they've put their weapons away, you can say you're sorry for threatening us."
The fox stuck up his snout stubbornly, his eyes a show of hurt. He crossed his arms and waited for his apology but his apology never came. The wolf king shook his head and crossed his arms.
"There will be no words, and no apology" Besegrare said. "And as for your first request, how do I know you're telling the truth? I can't tell my guard to back down until I know you are not a threat."
"Fire and flame," Tanda said, his head hunched down, face pinched and pulled into his paws. It was an old fox curse, though its meaning did not go unknown. He lifted his face again and pointed at the king with one hand.
"Listen closely, Your Highness," he opened his jaws and let that title, Your Highness, roll slowly between his teeth, thick like sour milk. "I know you. You're the king who killed his father, yes? The king who won't fight? I see how you won't draw your sword. I'd hardly call it a fair match up, fighting one who won't fight back. But I am a prince. I'm royalty too, and I won't sit and be snubbed. I demand a challenge."
Tanda threw his arms to his sides and two daggers flashed into view. His cloak fluttered and flapped and the leaves dusted up around his boots.
"Put your thoughts of challenge away," Besegrare said. "I'll not fight you."
"I will fight," said the fox. "This wrong must be righted."
"Then take it up with my guard. My beasts will strike you down, and all of your fellows as well, if they would continue to pursue the course of battle."
"I'll take it up with you and only you."
Valdigt put her hand on the king's shoulder and pulled his concentration.
"Say the word," she said. "And we will strike."
His guards had withdrawn into a defensive position, but he saw that they all had spears out and ready. They'd been flanked, and faced outward in all directions, their boots dug into the ground. They were not fast fighters, but the form they practiced emphasized defense over attack. They wore plated armor and carried heavy shields. Any enemy they faced would have trouble landing a blow, save any enemy fast enough to bypass those shields.
But the foxes wore no heavy armor, carried no shields, and they were small and quick. They carried small blades and other instruments useful for throwing. They would be able to easily dispatch such slow guards as these, if they'd faced each other. Besegrare knew a fight would be bloody, and he raised his hand again to stay Valdigt and his guard.
"My kingdom has no business with yours," he said. "Yet you speak of me and of my life's story. What would you know of me that could possibly be true?"
"Much," said the fox, smirking, "Or was I wrong? You have still not drawn your weapon."
"I think it wise I do not. You are right. I won't fight you, and I think it better if none of my wolves fought any one of your number."
"But-" Valdigt was breathing heavily. She sensed the battle like a thunderstorm and she longed for it.
"We must not," he said. "Put your weapons away, all of you."
They relaxed into a normal stance and resheathed their blades, lowered their spears. But their shields they kept at hand, for the feared the swiftness of the foxes. Their fears were unfounded. Tanda gave a nod and put his daggers away, and silently the other foxes followed suit.
"You speak of danger in Hollow," said Besegrare. "And in the Foxwoods. Surely you want these lands back? And yet you skulk in the Kvalsdimm. In my domain. Need I remind you which lands are ours and which belong to you? But if you wish to remain here, I will not stop you. Just know that these trees are mine, and I will see fit to rule them and those who live here how I see fit.
"Somehow I think you don't want to stay. I think you'd rather be back in the Foxwoods, and see the Court of Hollow restored. Am I wrong in believing this? Tell me, Prince of Hollow, what you would do."
The fox prince stood and stared with his hands on his hips. He tapped his foot and they watched his tail flickering back, forth, back again, as he thought hard and furrowed his brow.
"Your last king was very blunt," he said. "There are few among us who have forgotten just how blunt he could be, and how violent. But your words are different altogether. You speak in riddles and double meanings. I am more comfortable with this. It is how my own fellows talk. And yet, just this once, I would ask you to speak bluntly with me. I would know exactly what you mean by your question. Are you offering to help us?"
"I seek a foe," Besegrare said. His eyes drifted to Nashil, who still stood to the side with her hand on the little dirk that she had not drawn. Her eyes shone bright and they were the color of beech and spring. "I seek a foe who has menaced the beasts of the Bay, and massacred many innocents. Many nights have passed since the initial attacks. It is possible that our foe has migrated North; indeed it may be that our foe is one and the same."
"Then you face a terrible foe."
A shadow fell across the face of the fox. He spoke with solemn terror.
"Our woods are thick with the dead," he said. "Your messenger girl, if she speaks truly about the sorcerer, speaks troublingly. These corpses of our own kind have been clawing their way up through the soil, attacking our villages and homes. Black and ghostly shadows of foxes long dead patrol the halls of our kingdom. We knew not where they'd come from. Now we know."
The foxes took a step back and many covered their faces in hoods.
"Our message is a hopeful one," said Besegrare. "If we kill the sorcerer, we kill the source of the power."
"And you think it can be done?" said Tanda.
"It must."
The two beasts made a pact to work together. The foxes would not flee and the wolves would not fight alone. The kingdoms of the North had been joined but they had also fallen under a dark cloud. Why let the darkness persist? Darkness was the enemy of the Flame, and they carried that Flame with them always. They would bring it to every corner of their world, and set it all ablaze.