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Chapter 17: Return to Gryning

Rumors of war surrounded the king and his troops when they arrived at Gryning. No news had been sent ahead of his return; and in the king's absence, many wolves and foxes had migrated to Gryning from the cities they'd escaped. And so, although everyone had heard about the army that had destroyed Inthil and Hollow, no one had heard if Besegrare had done anything to stop it. Tanda and Nashil were both swamped by beasts who recognized them, prodded them with questions and endless remarks:

"Have you seen any others? I'm looking for my family..."

"Did you salvage anything?"

"By ashes, I'd thought you died!"

"Is there any hope for us?"

But neither of them knew how to answer, and fox and wolf alike were turned away grumbling. Besegrare was tight-lipped about whether he'd killed the sorcerer or not, and this left fear and doubt in the minds of many. Weary as he was, he pledged to open his courts.

"Come," he said, to the throngs of beasts, "Let's settle everything."

The beasts gathered before the throne, and Besegrare resumed his place upon the seat. The horde settled into a more organized shape and many of them settled down on their knees. They took to whispering fiercely amongst themselves. Much was made of the stories his people had heard. Many of them were scared; more of them were angry. Most of them were something between the two. The wolf who spoke up for them was he who'd been in charge during Besegrare's absence--the Lord Khiifa. He felt something of a duty to his people, and felt he fulfilled that duty better than his king. Now, being forced to turn the throne over again, Khiifa would lose his power and return to the People's Keep. He challenged Besegrare publicly, in front of the crowds that were gathering, addressing the people's concerns.

"Is Gryning safe anymore?" Khiifa bristled. "These are wolves we're talking about, real wolves with real lives! These are honest beasts making honest work. We depend on your protection to keep safe. Do we still have that to count on?"

"The fortress is safe," spoke Besegrare. He adjusted himself and settled into the throne. "And anybeast inside these walls can count on that. Our army is strong. We can withstand any attack."

"Should we be expecting an attack? You know there's been rumors of an evil army. An army of monsters."

The other wolves in the court room began to agitate, whispering to each other. They'd heard the rumors, hadn't they? Could they be true? There was no such thing as an army of monsters, was there? Besegrare raised his hands and a hush fell over the crowd."

"I saw no army. I saw a lone beast; his wiles were sharp, but he acted without help."

This was not exactly true. Besegrare had seen the deadbeasts, yes, returned to life by some force of evil or magic. But he hadn't seen an army, exactly... A troop, or a battalion, perhaps. Either way, he wasn't about to start a panic now. Not when things were still safe here.

"I saw an army," a new voice chipped in. It belonged to Thiall, a she-wolf from Inthil. She was standing alongside Khiifa, and spoke with firmness in her voice; she had been a smith of weapons and knew how to use her bulk to command a presence of her own. "An army of darkness, and of damned souls. An army of the dead! Aye, I saw it with my own eyes. I saw them slaughter my friends and neighbors, burning houses and gardens. And only by some miracle did I escape. Only by a miracle were any of us saved! Don't think they won't come for Gryning too."

"Now, my fellows," Besegrare said, "There is a great evil in the world among us. Yes. I do not doubt it, or its destructive capacity. But we have nothing to fear where we are. There is no reason for us to be targeted. I don't want to hear anymore about it. We are safe, for now, and if things change then we will discuss our options."

The king rose and approached Khiifa and Thiall. He laid his hand on the Lord's shoulder, fixing him with his sharpest gaze. Besegrare was new to being commanding. He was used to the wolves following him on their sheer loyalty alone. Now, for once, he was being forced to use some grit. He didn't much care for it, but he wouldn't stand by and let the others seize power from him.

"As for you, Lord Khiifa--I should think very carefully about your goals here. A ruler such as myself needs conviction. Yes, clearly you have that conviction as well. I don't doubt that... Ashes, I can see it in your eyes. Or is that someone else's conviction? You've never been a dissenting voice in the past. I hope you're not being influenced by anyone else."

"No, my lord," Khiifa dropped to his knee before the king. Besegrare knew that the Lord's wife, Lady Thybion, was a source of contention. He suspected that she was vying for the throne, that she'd been plotting against him. Khiifa's sudden dissent pointed to that. Khiifa's ears flattened against his head in shame. The rumors had been spreading around Gryning that Khiifa was incapable of making his own decisions--that Lady Thybion controlled her husband, and that his power was only ornamental. But to hear Besegrare question the veracity of that rumor so boldly, or so publicly... Besegrare held his breath while he waited to see whether the beast would back down, or double up on his contention. Then Khiifa bowed his head lower, and said,

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn."

He stood and left the room, cutting his way through the crowd like a knife. His tail hung straight and low like it was weighted. Thiall sneered at him as he left, and then she said:

"You have the fine qualities of a leader."

But with Khiifa gone, Besegrare turned his attention to her. She froze.

"Care to rethink your statement?" he said. "I'm patient, but I'm not a mat to be stepped on and sat upon. I won't have dissent."

"All right," she said. "I'm not an idiot like that one, prancing about like he's royalty. But what do you have to say to me, to all of us? I know what I saw, and I know we're in danger. What do you have to promise our safety?"

"That you have nothing to fear," Besegrare said, but his face was struggling to maintain its composure. He leered over her and pointed towards the door. All this commotion was getting to be too much. He'd only just gotten back!

"Get out," he said, then waved both his arms to signal everyone. "All of you, get out! I need to be alone, can't you see? I've only just returned. Get out--get out!"

Besegrare's return was dramatic enough without the commotion in the keep. But now that so many beasts had seen him shouting so erratically, they first began to feel a sense of unease. A quiet dread had been building in Gryning for many months now, and many beasts had only just begun to notice it. They left the king alone for a matter of some hours and then he reopened the court rooms. People knew better than to ask about the rumors of war anymore. But the king seemed composed and calm enough, and the expression he wore on his face was kind. There was a genuine look of remorse in those eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. It was hardly an apology and the people still felt ruffled, but they could accept it for then. By then the rumor had been confirmed. Besegrare hadn't stopped Vacka, didn't even know where he'd gone, for that matter, and could only guess at it. But he continued to promise their safety, and though the beasts were scared they felt like perhaps the king really could protect them. He had cared for them thus far, and had actively lead a quest against his enemy--didn't that prove his dedication to their cause?

So Besegrare went about finding places for everybeast who didn't have a bed. There were plenty of them looking for space, not including Tanda and Nashil who needed semi-permanent places to stay until they figured out where they would go.

Tanda was given a spare room in the main keep - "I couldn't have you sleep in anything less," Besegrare had insisted - and his foxes met up with like kin, and went to find empty rooms in the city. At the people's keep Nashil was given another of the main keep's spare rooms, although she'd been offered many rooms among the cityfolk. And when all the people had finished asking questions about their homes, and the courts were slowly emptied, High Priestess Tehlina forced her way in and bowed low before the king.

"My lord," she said, then rose to her full height. "What of the little priest that went alongside you? The valent, Irda? He was a protege of mine, before he left, but I have not seen him at all since your return this morning."

"Irda?" Besegrare shook his head. "I am sorry. He fell at the hands of the enemy, giving his life in service to the wolves, and to the Flame."

Tehlina felt dread welling inside of her, but she welcomed it. It did not surprise her. Dread had been haunting her for days, a byproduct of the visions she'd been seeing. Tehlina felt like she hadn't slept in all the time the king had been gone, her jaw slack and her eyes glazed. She'd been visited with lonely imagery, visions of the king and his soldiers trooping forward in a black mist, marching endlessly into the Bay of Tears and disappearing beneath its waves over and over again. And then, after a few weeks, a vision had come where a hand had reached out of the mist and pulled a cloaked figure out of the king's march. Inside her own heart she had already known the meaning of that vision.

"Poor Irda," she mumbled, thinking of the bright little wolf's dedication to craft and education. She wondered if she would have any more visions with him in them, and what they would mean. Scripture said that the Flame sometimes communicated indirectly to beasts; she had never witnessed it herself, and had never been sure she believed such a thing possible. Now she wasn't sure. Her visions had been coming steadily every night for nearly a month now, and she had told no one.

Even without worrying about that, she'd been busy at Gryning. As the chapter's High Priestess she had been in charge of overseeing reconstruction of the new chapel, the chapterhouses, and their gardens. New land had to be plotted for the latter, as the Order's original gardens were now built on damaged soil. Tehlina found some comfort in the rebuilding of things and the reformation of lost life. Such had been her blessing, and so she didn't mind the business of it all, as long as she got to take part in the rebuilding. Never mind the rushing around, the fretting. She'd keep a cool temper on the outside, and fret within. Inside, she was tempests of worry; outside, she was a placid lake, a stone unbroken in a channel raging. She drew strongly on her own willpower to appear so resolute, and over time her own self-belief would inspire something of real confidence. She believed this trait had elevated her to the position of High Priestess in the first place.

And so, though she felt shaken by the news, she bowed again and addressed the king properly.

"Thank you, lord. I trust he was properly cremated?"

"Yes. We built the pyre out of branches, and lit it with the dawn."

"Well done, my lord. You've done a great service to him, returning his body to the Flame."

She was beginning to feel responsible for the wolf's death and tried to keep the emotion from shaking her voice. Tehlina bowed a final time and exited the throne room. Besegrare waved away the rest of his guards and servants, sent Seshi off, and remained in his throne. The royal seat, etched into the side of a vast oak, which grew through and along the wall, was the first place he'd sat comfortably in weeks.

He stretched his legs and yawned, and lazed in his seat, letting his mind stew.

Besegrare had taken to talking. It suited him, he'd decided, to sort through his problems aloud. It was the sort of thing his father had done, and he felt an odd kinship with that vile beast now. He would not be his father, even if he adopted similar habits. Molokhn had had a tendency to sort out his problems aloud, but alone. He'd had no mind for input. Input just meant ways other people could satisfy their own agendas. But Besegrare didn't think he was capable of making decisions without input. He'd tried that once, with Valdigt, and that had cost him his best soldier. Who knew when she would be coming back? He'd expected to hear word from her at some point.

Nevertheless, he had made the mistake. He would learn from it.

His father had never had an advisor, so Besegrare decided he would instate one as soon as he could. He hadn't thought long enough to know who, but he had taken to talking with Tanda.

They stood together one evening on the fortress walls, drinking cold poppy beer, looking out East upon the Kvalsdimm.

"It's nice to have someone who understands me," Besegrare said.

"I'm not sure I always do, sire," Tanda said.

"You're royalty too, aren't you?"

"I suppose so."

"So you have some measure of understanding, that other beasts wouldn't have. And since when did you call me 'sire?' That's not necessary either."

"Prince of foxes I may have been, but the foxes are a scattered people now. They have no home and no leader. I've pledged my service to you now, and any understanding I may once have had will fade in time."

"I do not know the ways of foxes. Only wolves. But we dwell anywhere, and with anyone who will stand it, and we make that our home. You may try the same."

"You'll live with anyone who will stand it, or you make them stand it. Aren't I right? I'm not trying to criticize. We're lucky that you're letting any of us stay here at all. But there's lots of us still out there, roaming, and they won't have any home to return to again. My father, my king, is dead, and I am alone, and we are all alone. I won't become their leader. So they'll remain scattered. Or they'll appoint a new leader, I suppose. But me? I'm just a fox after all. Nothing more than that, and nothing less. Dispense with all title. I'm just a fox."

"Fool fox, have you no friends in the world? I thought that we were enjoying each other's company, at least."

"Friends? Aye, perhaps. That's a word for it, though I don't know I'll ever understand you. But I have no others outside of this keep."

"And you would just abandon your kind?"

"Abandon nothing. I never even ruled them. Don't you get it? I was just a face they could point to to be proud of. A face that wouldn't look terrible sitting in front of a panel of others."

"A face can do many things."

"Then you be the face. I won't do it again."

"To live alone, and so easily! Would that I were born somebeast else, but here I am. I am king of the wolves and I cannot deny my duty. Go do what you will. I have to do what's best for all of us."

"What is best for all of us? Are you not doing well?"

"The people fear war and I cannot quell that fear. And I know I shouldn't. I need to prepare them."

"Then prepare them. But take charge."

"You think they will still listen to me, after I've come home defeated?"

"The people still love you. You freed them, after all. You could guide them through anything."

"Love? Love is just another way to tyranny."

"Perhaps."

"If I only knew which course of action was the right, I would take it."

"And that's what sets you apart. We've seen plenty of beasts choose the wrong path when the path was clearly wrong."

"Suppose the beast truly believes in the goodness of its path, when all others believe it to be evil? What makes it so clear? It's not always obvious to the one making the choice."

"Why, then we're hopeless, aren't we? What goodness can there be in a world where we cannot quantify good? If that is the truth, of course, then you needn't worry. There's nothing any of us could do, and there would be no more cause for worry."

"Maybe I'm overthinking this."

"Yes. You're overthinking it. Drink up, you'll feel stronger."

They downed the mugs of beer and felt it course cold through them. The wind blew beneath their boots and lifted their tails, and the boughs and branches swayed.

The next morning Tehlina tried to deduce some significance to her vision, but found none. Then she tried to think if there were any lesson in the vision that she could teach to her followers, and again she found nothing. Finally she tried to think of a way to make a lesson out of being unable to find a lesson; but she could not do that either.

So the priestess went through her day without thinking any more about it. She helped the acolytes in their training, and met with the many architects to discuss the next phases of rebuilding. She'd been High Priestess for a few years now, so she knew the job. But when she'd been promoted, she and the others had only just arrived at Gryning. The whole time she'd expected to sail back to Himmel with the Aventh and the others. Instead she'd stayed. Every aspect of her life had been new to her - not just her rank. Despite everything she felt that she had adapted well. The confusing layout of the city had been the least of her concerns, and before she knew it she was traveling from keep to keep like a pro. She could've navigated the city blindfolded. This was all part of the adaptation, which she reminded herself again an again was going well, going as well as possible. Even years later she was still reminding herself - You're doing okay. You're managing. You're going to be okay.

The king had traveled without the aid of a swordbearer. During the journey Valdigt had acted as a sort of surrogate to that role, never straying far from him, never taking her hands off her weapon. Back at Gryning the people were uncomfortable seeing a weaponless king; for this reason he had retained the use of the royal swordbearer. The wolves only ever would comport themselves well with comfort. And so a king would never wear armor off the battlefield. Armor was for guards and soldiers. A royal dressed resplendently in robes of green and lavish yellow. Royals wore ringlets of silver, woven like roots across their brows. And though a royal need be armed they would never be expected to carry the weapon themselves. At all times weapons would be carried at the king or queen's side by the swordbearer.

Seshi was the name of the swordbearer who had served under Molokhn. He served Besegrare now, and was eternally grateful. He was a timid wolf, and his time serving Besegrare's predecessor had been a stressful one. He'd been called upon often to present the sword to the king, and in a way he felt complicit for the hundreds of innocent lives that met their ends by Molokhn's merciless wrath. Seshi had breathed a sigh of relief when Besegrare took the throne; and though this new king of theirs had sworn off the blade, he still followed him. Seshi felt more like a decoration than anything, but there'd never be anything but an ornamental use for the blade again. That made him happy.

He walked behind Besegrare now, through the halls of the royal keep. A long passage wound its way through marble arches, from the royal chambers all the way to the throne room. The king's slippers had wooden soles that clicked loudly on the floors with each step.

"Rarely a moment alone," Besegrare remarked. "From the moment I leave my chambers till the moment I rest my head. Strange for anybeast to live that way, isn't it?"

Seshi stiffened, standing straight up and still. Besegrare stopped.

"Is something the matter?" Besegrare asked.

"No," Seshi said. He relaxed and lowered the blade he'd been gripping, not realizing how tightly he'd held it. It rested in its colorful sheath, decorated in shades of green. "I was just thinking that it is strange. Strange to always live in the presence of another."

"And yet, as king, I'm expected to live that way always," Besegrare cast his gaze forward down the hall and followed it, his feet clicking out again with every step. Seshi hurried after him.

"I want an advisor," Besegrare continued. "My father believed in trusting only himself. It cost him his life, and me my innocence. I cannot help what I had to do to stop him; but never now can I remove its stain. No, from now on I will seek deliberately the input of others."

"Sire?" Seshi inquired. "I am just a swordbearer. I can be of no input."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Either way it will not do to be seen without an advisor any longer. I've ruled long enough to prove that I won't run my people into the ground. Now I will seek their help. I'm thinking of asking Tanda."

"The fox, sire?"

"Indeed. Prince of the foxes. I think his mind is sharp, and a keen eye like his will see details I may miss. And I am stubborn, too. I suspect he is strong of will, and a strong will may help me overcome my greatest battles with myself."

"I see, sire."

"What do you think, Seshi? Am I making the right decision?"

"I've already said, sire. I am unable to advise you."

"Just this once, Seshi. I ask very little of you. This will be my first and only request of yours, if your own word you cannot trust enough to advise me further."

"If I must say anything, sire, the fox seems trustworthy enough. But he is still a fox, known to be loyal to themselves. We wolves pledged loyalty to one another, and the foxes need governing just to keep themselves from tearing each other apart. You cannot always expect that he will dedicate himself to our causes, and so quickly."

"I think you might be surprised at how quickly he has sided himself to us."

"Maybe so. I've said more than enough already. He does seem trustworthy. But I've never been one to see past seeming."

"Thank you, Seshi. That's all I need."

Besegrare reached the end of the hall and pushed apart the heavy doors himself, ignoring the guards who offered themselves for the task. The throne room opened before them and Seshi admired it as always. The knotted wood of the trunk in the wall rose magnificently above everything; branches that no longer bore leaves grew tangled above the top of the throne and the court, and the seat was lined with fine white cushions. Five white steps were etched into the roots and rose like a ladder up to the seat. The king would ascend each step one by one before presiding over the people and their problems. Seshi followed behind him and stood waiting at the base of the tree, sword in hand. He gulped as the king settled himself for the day's questions, and prayed that it would be another day he wasn't called upon.

There were two beasts already in that throne room, and Seshi looked at them each in turn. The fox, Tanda, wore a yellow robe in the style of the wolves. Its long hem had been tailored shorter for him, and the fur spilling out of its sleeves and openings was crimson red, rather than the earth tones of the wolves. He looked like a native - like he belonged in the city, walking from keep to keep with the others. Seshi flattened his ears; he didn't trust easily, and he'd never been friends with any foxes. Tanda dropped to his knees and bowed. The other beast was a skunk. He was short, shorter even than the fox, and his garb was the neat and folded robe of an acolyte. It was red. Shaid, thought Seshi, shivering slightly. What makes a skunk want to join the Order? Why would anybeast follow our ways? The skunk carried a copper firetree and wore a gentle smile. He bowed as well.

"Sire?" said the skunk. "My name is Iloshi; I have traveled far to be here."

"I am Besegrare, king of wolves. Well met, Iloshi."

"Thank you."

"I trust you didn't travel alone?"

"No," Iloshi had a calm demeanor and spoke quite deliberately. "I came with two others."

"And where are they?"

"They wait outside the fortress walls, retained by the guard. I was sent ahead to request entrance and find hospitality amongst friends."

"I know you not, nor do I know from where you and your cohorts hail. Have you any friends here amongst the wolves, or is it new friendship you seek?"

"We have traveled from Himmel. Sent by the Aventh himself, in a fashion. We've been traveling from kingdom to kingdom with grave news. He is in ill health, hanging on to life by a thread. By the time we have arrive here he may already have died."

"Dead?" Besegrare asked.

"A terrible fever took hold of him," Iloshi said. "We did not expect him to make it through the night. His survival was something of a surprise, but there's no doubt about it now. Any breath he takes may be his last. We come spreading the news, and seeking a potential successor."

"And you seek the successor amongst our own people?"

"That discussion we must table till later, I think. But yes... It is our belief that a successor may be here. How and why we can explain later, but it would be done better if we were all together. I'd request again the entrance of my peers."

"Very well," Besegrare nodded at the guards and they moved to the door. "You and your fellows may stay. Bring them here straight away, and we will discuss this further. "

"Thank you, sire."

Iloshi left, pursued by the guards. Tanda quickly stepped up to the king and dropped to a knee again.

"Rise, Tanda," Besegrare said. "Even if you've denounced your title, you are not my subject."

"Sire?" the fox said, rising.

"And enough with the 'sire.' What has gotten into you? These robes too, what are you doing in them? Traditional wolf style, as though you were from Gryning. And yellow too. That's a color for wolves, mind you. Red is the proper color for your kind."

"For the Shaid, yes. But I'm no priest."

"Yellow is still for the wolves."

"Let's not dwell on me," Tanda said. "It's the skunk who bothers me. I don't know about that pilgrim. How do we know what he says is true?"

"Let me believe him, as I believe you. Does he have an ulterior motive to lie about the Aventh?"

"No, he doesn't. I only mean for you to exercise caution; he isn't a wolf, and anything pertaining to the Order I'd expect to hear from a wolf." Tanda picked at the loose yellow robe that flowed past his ankles. He toook a handful of the fabric in his hands and let it fall between his fingers. "And the robes I'm wearing to assimilate. They're to make everyone else in Gryning comfortable. My foxes are getting restless, and some have left to find new homes. Others are already gone back to Hollow, or whatever's left. But there is no home that way for me and I must remain here; some others of us will as well. But if we remain here, your style of dress we will adopt; and we will serve no leader other than the ruler of the fortress on the cliffs."

"My friend, my friend - now I know that it is true! Despite everything that has happened and all that I have done, you remain here with me."

"A strange fate has brought the two of us together. I do not think we will part so easily."

"In that case, I must ask something of you."

Besegrare beckoned, and Seshi the swordbearer stepped forward. The king took the blade in his hands and raised it.

"By my honor, and by my blade. I would ask your allegiance, Tanda of Hollow. I would ask that you remain with the wolves and become chief advisor to their king. I would seek your counsel in all manners of my courts. What say you?"

Tanda was moved, and though he tried to steel his expression he felt himself fall too quickly to his knees. Bow his head too eagerly. His emotion had gotten the better of him, for he had been very lonely. Finally he felt that he had found some semblance of a home again. He stood very quickly, his expression having fallen.

"Excuse my behavior, but yes. I accept. I may finally be able to do some good."

"Then welcome, Tanda of Gryning. Welcome, advisor to the royal seat of the wolves. You are among your people, and your fellow beasts will treat you well."