Wolf Riders, Part 5

The crossbow bolt whistled through the air and stabbed quiveringly into the earth before the steed's hooves. Frey struggled to control the animal, which reared. At times like this he was glad to have ranks of skill in Riding.

"Come no closer, stranger, or we will fill you with arrows, white flag or no white flag." His voice was rough but powerful. It was clear that its owner used it to give orders and have them obeyed. Frey struggled with the mount and managed to control it.

"I am a messenger to Garfield Von Deyl, Baron of the Northern Fringe of the Gray Mountains." Frei yelled. “He has no intention of causing you any harm. We just want to shelter from the elements and refresh supplies.”

“Well, you can't do it here! Tell your Baron Garfield that if he is so peaceful, he can continue on his way. This is Aken, and we are not interested in any dealings with the nobles of any country. We are a free and independent city, we do not bow down to anyone.”

Frey studied the man shouting at him from the tower of the city gate. Beneath the peaked metal helmet, he glimpsed a perceptive and intelligent face. He was flanked by two men whose crossbows were aimed at Frey with iron steadiness. Frey was wearing his plate armor, so he knew that none of those projectiles would be able to pierce his armor.

"Sir, we just need a little hospitality."

“Go away, knight; you will not receive hospitality in Aken if you travel with twenty armored knights and fifty soldiers.”

Frey marveled at how excellent Aken's ranks must be to know the number of his forces so accurately. He clearly understood how things were in those lands. The Baron's army was too powerful for a local Warlord to open the gates of his city to them. In this isolated population, they constituted a threat to the position of any ruler. However, Frey doubted that the baron's forces were prepared enough to take a walled fortress against determined resistance.

"We have injuries." he yelled he. "Will you accept them, at least?"

For the first time, the man on the wall looked apologetic.

"Nope. You have brought these extra mouths here, so you can feed them.”

"You have to help them."

“We don't have to do anything, messenger. It is I who rules here, not your baron. Tell him to follow the River to the southeast. In that direction is the Theocracy, perhaps in more than a week they manage to see the great wall on the horizon. Or take one of the abandoned forts of the Kingdom of Lothal and clear his own estate there.”

Disheartened, Frey turned his horse around. As he walked away he was fully aware of the weapons pointed at him.

"Herald!" the lord of Aken shouted.

Frey turned in his chair to look at him, and saw despite the diminishing light that the man's face had a worried expression.

"What?"

“Tell the baron not to enter the southern hills on any account. He must stand by the River. I don't want to have it on my conscience that I didn't warn him about the Wastelands."

Something in the tone of the man's voice made the hair on the back of Frey's neck stand up.

“Those hills are full of horrors, messenger, they are full of ruthless monsters. Aken is one of the few free human-inhabited cities found in this area.”

♦ ♦ ♦

“They won't let us through the gates. It's that easy". Frey concluded as he swept his gaze over the faces gathered around the fire.

The baron motioned for him to sit down with a feeble movement of his left hand, then turned to look at Dieter.

“We cannot take Aken, at least not without great loss of life. Even if I'm not an expert in sieges, I still realize it." the gray-haired man told him, and leaned forward to throw another branch on the fire. The sparks that rose up rose into the sky and lit up the cold night air.

"So you think we should continue." The baron commented in a weak voice that reminded Frey of the rustle of dry leaves.

Dieter agreed.

“Perhaps we should head west, directly to the Theocracy.” Manfred commented. “And look for land there. That way, we would avoid the hills, assuming there is something in them to fear.”

"There is". Hef, one of the hunters, assured him. Even in the cheery glow of the flames, his features were pale and strained.

“Anyway, going towards the Theocracy is stupid.” declared old Winter; the old sorceress, and Felix saw her glare directly at Manfred.

"Oh yeah? Why?" he inquired.

“Use your brain, boy. The hills are the abode of the monster enemies of humanity; so the best land will be the one that is farthest from the hills, since it is safer from incursions. Going to the Theocracy is nonsense, who can assure us that they will allow us to pass their great wall and emigrate to their country? I recommend settling on the mountain, any fortress on the mountain will offer more resistance than Aken.”

"I have good knowledge of geography." Manfred scoffed, and he swept the eyes of everyone around the bonfire. “If we continue to go into the mountains, we will meet more wolf riders, in this area the Goblins swarm more than the worms in a corpse. Furthermore, there are also tribes of Harpies lurking on the high cliffs.”

"Danger lurks in every direction." snorted the old baron, who fixed Frey with a very penetrating gaze. "Do you think the lord of Aken warned us to stay by the river only so that we would be an easy target for the greenskin attackers?"

Frey pondered for a moment to weigh the matter. How could he be expected to know whether or not the man was lying based on just a brief conversation? Frey was fully aware that what he said would influence the fate of everyone in the caravan, and for the first time in his life he experienced the faintest sense of the responsibility that came with leadership; he took a deep breath.

"The man seemed sincere, Baron."

"He was telling the truth." Hef stated, as he squeezed some smoking weed into his pipe.

Frey noticed that the man's fingers were nervously playing with the utensil. Hef leaned forward and pulled a burning twig from the fire, which he used to light his pipe before continuing.

"The Wasterlands are a sinister place." Start Hef with the story of him “People say that many centuries ago the seven dark gods arrived, there is a record that three of the seven dark gods arose in the Wasterlands. Each of these emerged with a mighty army of demonic and hellish beings.”

Taking a sip from his pipe, Hef continued, “Back then, the dark gods began their campaign of destruction in the mortal realm. What we know today as the Kingdom of Lothal and the Empire of Kaleth used to be a single nation, a nation ruled by legendary Elder Dragons, but when Mammon, the dark god of greed, came, he corrupted the dragons and their discord caused them to clash with each other. them, when they were weak, Mammon attacked them mercilessly and exterminated many Elder Dragons; since then all dragons suffer from the curse of avarice.”

“What we know today as Theocracy used to be a nation ruled by a great titan, a being capable of touching the clouds with his hands. When the Prince of darkness Luzbel, the dark god of pride, attacked, he shook the earth as the body of the titan fell dead on the ground.

"What did the last dark god do?" asked Frey with genuine interest.

Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, Hef took another sip from her pipe before continuing, “At that time, there was only the Republic as the only human nation, which, in those times, was guarded by the last of the six great gods, by Mortis, the god of death. When Leviathan, the dark god of Envy, attacked the republic, he was the only dark god to meet any real resistance. The last great god, along with the demigods left behind by the other great gods, defended the Republic. Although the Republic seemed to be able to maintain its position, it was evident that slowly the attrition was improving its combat capacity. As a last resort, Mortis formed an alliance with the Wood Elves, the Ferals of the Southeast, the mountain giants of the steep crags of the Southwest of the Republic, and the restless undead of the great desert to the south. With this grand alliance, Leviathan was defeated."

"What happened to the other two dark gods?"

“Once Leviathan was defeated, the remaining dragons joined the great alliance and together they totally defeated Mammon. Due to their low number, the dragons were scattered throughout the world, only five Elder Dragons came together to found the Sherlong council. Although the alliance was incredibly powerful, when they faced the forces of Luzbel, they realized the incredible wear and tear they had suffered in the battles against the other dark gods. Many died, mythical dragons, mighty giants, and legendary demigods. Luzbel was defeated, but a high price was paid; the last of the great gods Mortis fell, but Luzbel did too”.

Frey felt a shiver run down his spine and fought the urge to turn to look over his shoulder into the darkness.

"But that was centuries ago." declared old Winter. "The dark gods were defeated and their forces mostly annihilated, the remnants fled north. Do you think there are still glimpses of those forces in this place?"

“I don't know, ma'am; but what is certain is that the Wastelands are inhabited by many beings that are enemies of humanity. Uncivilized monsters that attack humans just by seeing them.”

"That sure is nonsense." declared Dr. Stock. “If there are so many hostile beings in the Wasteland. Why haven't they attacked the Kingdom of Lothal, the Republic, or the Theocracy itself?"

Frey was not so sure. For something the nation known as Theocracy had built a great wall to separate itself from the Wastelands.

"If we go south, we face certain danger and no guarantee that we can find shelter." the baron concluded, his face looking gaunt and angular from the firelight cast from below. “They assure us that to the south we will find large extensions of land, although they could hide enemies of humanity. I think we should take the risks of the mountain road, which may be clear. We will follow the course of the River.”

There was no hope in his voice; rather he spoke as a man resigned to the will of fate. "Does the baron wish for death?" Frey wondered. Even under the effects of the atmosphere that had given rise to the hunter's dark tale, he could almost believe it. He noted that he was to find out more about the Curse supposedly imposed by the Emperor on the Von Deyl, and then noticed Manfred's face. The young nobleman gazed into the fire with mesmerized eyes, and there was an expression on his face that was almost one of pleasure.