The Wolf by Leo Carew

Author:Leo Carew
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Fantasy / Epic, Fiction / Fantasy / Historical, Fiction / Fantasy / Military, Fiction / War & Military
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2018-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

14

The Barn

“Wooden houses,” said the big man. “Bloody hell, they’re beautiful.”

There was nothing especially beautiful about the buildings: a stooped cluster of raggedly thatched timber and daub homesteads, barely discernible through the thick flakes of floating snow. Such poor villages studded every part of Suthdal, but were not to be found north of the Abus, hence their beauty in the eyes of Bellamus’s men.

The upstart could hear cheers and cries of relief echo from his small column as the men behind sighted the village too. He turned and saw that some of them had dropped to their knees at the sight, arms held up at the sky in thanksgiving. Many others were embracing with tears in their eyes or raising fists into the air. He turned away, neither responding to the comment from Stepan, nor the reaction at his back.

The village looked like failure to him.

He had gone north beneath a fluttering stream of banners, leading a column clanking and tinkling with the panoply of war and truly believing his would be the invasion which at last subdued their ancient enemy. As far as he knew, his filthy, truncated band were the only remnant of that proud force to have stumbled back across the Abus. There were barely four hundred of them: all reeking, bearded and dressed in tatters. The others lay still beside the sea.

“God grant this dung heap an inn,” said Stepan. The towering, amber-bearded knight had been Bellamus’s most constant companion on the retreat from Githru, though the two had never spoken before the calamitous battle. He combined easy company with the stoic endurance Bellamus valued so highly in his soldiers. Unusually for a noble, he also seemed more than happy to take instructions from Bellamus, who had come to rely very much on his humour and consistency.

“There’ll be an inn,” replied Bellamus. “Which will prove too much for some of our men.”

“I’ll keep them in line, Captain,” said Stepan. He glanced sidelong at Bellamus, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on the upstart’s face. “You haven’t failed, you know,” he said. “When you’ve been over there,” he cast a thick finger into the swirling snow on their left, through which lay the far bank of the Abus, “just coming back is an achievement.”

“I haven’t failed,” agreed Bellamus. “Not until I’ve given up.”

“Good lord, sir!” Stepan burst out laughing. “You’re planning to go back?”

Bellamus smiled. “You and I together, Stepan. Why do you think we’re heading south?”

“Our terrible experiences in the north?”

“To ask the king for more men,” said Bellamus, patiently.

Stepan just laughed again. “Find me an inn, then try putting that to me again.”

The village did indeed have an inn: barely larger than the surrounding houses and with a roof so laden with thatch that it extended down to the level of Bellamus’s shoulders. An enclosure in front contained a dozen chickens sorting through the snow, which they shared with three enormous, shaven-headed men. These last sat with their backs against the inn, a clay jug between them emitting potent fumes which Bellamus could smell from ten yards away.

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