Thirty-Three

 

"That tree," Chase said, pointing.

He'd picked the largest one, with branches so broad you could sleep on them. The wolf would not be able to knock over this mighty tree, Rosa was certain of it. She brought the carpet lower, so that Chase only had to step out onto the branch. He had his bow, a full quiver, a jar of tallow and a brazier full of coals. His armour would protect him and his cloak would keep him warm. She shouldn't worry so, she told herself, but she could not shake the memory in her mind's eye of him falling out of the tree that first time.

Remember, we both have to survive this battle, if you want us to perform the Midwinter rites tonight, Rosa said silently to the gods of the forest, knowing they would be listening. Unless you wish to find a new priestess.

She didn't expect a response, but it would have been nice, all the same. The gods only spoke to the High Priestess, or so her grandmother had said.

She didn't have chickens as bait this time. Hagen had caught his first rat, and inadvertently showed her the nest where she'd found four more. Now their gutted corpses lay scattered around the clearing, the smell of fresh blood enough to lure any predator in for a taste.

She prayed it would be enough, and wished she'd had the foresight to demand Alard's horse to use as bait instead.

If they failed tonight, she would head straight for the stables.

She had her bow and a quiver of her own, but Chase was the true hunter tonight, not her. Her job was to be his eyes in the air, seeing what he could not, while his fire arrows would light up the clearing, bright as day.

The fire should drive off the pack, if they were naught but ordinary wolves, they'd decided, but they weren't so sure about the white wolf. Fire had saved her life the night it had killed her family, so it would surely be wary of it, but not in the way of a wild beast. No, like a man who had been burned.

Rosa flew up, high above the treetops, where she might see the clearing and half the forest. She pulled her cloak close around her, and settled down to wait.

The sun sank. The sky faded into twilight, before deepening to darkness. The moon would not rise for hours yet. All the more reason for the fire arrows.

The wind brought her sounds from every corner of the forest, whispering that wolves were on their way, and from where.

Rosa let the wind carry her own whispered words to Chase: "They come, from the west."

She thought she glimpsed something moving in the trees, around the edge of the clearing. The southern side, though, not the west. Then she blinked, and it was gone. Probably just leaves, or snow whipped up by the wind, she decided.

Chase's first arrow blazed into light, arcing up, across the clearing, to find its target in the eye of a wolf. He was a remarkable shot, and she would tell him so, when this was over.

His second and third arrows landed in the snow.

Perhaps not so remarkable, after all.

Two more wolves went down to ordinary arrows.

Only then did Rosa realise that the shots into the snow had not missed, but the lamp oil had been slow to catch fire. A ring of flames rose up, encircling the wolf pack.

The pack panicked, milling around the clearing like frightened sheep. One picked up a dead rat, while others ran in every direction, cutting one another off as they darted around, trying to escape the flames that fenced them in.

Rosa looked in vain for the white wolf, but it was nowhere to be seen. Once again, the creature had sacrificed someone else with no care for the consequences or loss of life. A nobleman or a king for sure.

She glanced at Chase, wondering if the knight would simply slaughter the pack while they were trapped. He was a nobleman, too, after all.

But the branch where he'd sat only moments before was empty.

"Chase!" she shouted, swooping lower.

"I see it!" he called back.

She could not see him, but his voice sounded excited. She dropped further, straining her eyes to see. Was that movement on the ground beneath it? Gods, if he was on the ground...

A fire arrow dropped into the snow, narrowly missing the white wolf's tail. It started to run away.

"I have a clear shot!" Chase said, now on the tree's lowest branches. Barely two yards above the snow, level with a drift that stood between him and the beast. Almost like a defensive wall...

The wolf came barrelling back the way it had come, charging up the drift. If it leaped, it would land on the same branch as Chase, or push him off it to his death amid the crazed pack.

The wolf bunched its muscles, and Rosa dived to intercept it.

Paws scrabbled for purchase as it landed on the end of her carpet, claws digging in to the weave. With shaking hands, she nocked an arrow to her bow. At this distance, she couldn't miss.

The wolf snarled and snapped at her, sending her scuttling back to the trailing edge of the carpet. It lunged, now half on the carpet. If it got its hind legs up, it would kill her for sure.

She fired, nocking arrow after arrow as she urged the carpet to buck the beast off.

She reached for another arrow, just in time to see her quiver roll over the side, out of reach.

Rosa gripped the sides of the carpet, closing her eyes as she turned the air into a whirlwind. She clung on for dear life as it dipped and spun, desperate to shake the wolf off before it reached her. But the beast's claws were snagged in the carpet – it just wouldn't fall.

Then something smacked into her head, and she knew nothing.