OUT OF THE SHADOWS
Disclaimer: I do not own the 10th Kingdom or any of the places or characters associated with the book or series. However, any character not directly associated is of my own creation, so please do not use them without my permission.
Prologue
All alone, the black wolf brooded on many thoughts already considered several times during her long incarceration.
Slime dripped down the walls into small green pools, its patterns burnt inexorably into her mind. Silence reigned over all, but for the occasional clumping of a guard's booted feet or the raving of a prisoner driven insane by years of solitary confinement. This was the world in which the black wolf had lived for uncountable days. The harshest prison in all the Nine Kingdoms. Those who knew of its existence trembled at its name: Ramsbard.
She perched on the single thin wooden bench, both her bed and her seat, brooding, turning everything over in her mind. She waited. Not long now.
Dim light filtered in through the single slit of a window. At night she could only see but a few stars when the night was clear. She could never see the moon, and could hardly tell what season it was. Some life. Refraining from the mad, urgent desire to pace her cell, to relieve the boredom, knowing what she would find. Four paces no matter which direction she took. Always four paces.
She was no longer an attractive wolf, although she had been once; the pitch black fur that covered her entire body was riddled with scars and blemishes, the most notable being the one in the perfect shape of a ram's head. It had been burned into the living flesh on her shoulder on the day of her arrival. Her back was uneven with proud flesh, the welts of innumerable whippings with a metal-tipped rod. Her claws were long and unworn and a solitary fang jutted over her bottom jaw. A single, baleful, amber eye glared at the blank, green, stone wall. The other had been closed permanently as punishment for unruly behaviour and incitement to rebellion. They had threatened to take her tail. They would pay for that.
Not long now.
The cruelty of the guards was renowned throughout the underworld of the Kingdoms. Few of even the most hardened criminals talked of it openly for fear that invoking its name would bring down some of its curse upon them. Vicious lashings and indiscriminate torture were commonplace. They were easy to bear. Mutilations like that which had been inflicted upon the black wolf were not exceptional. The worst punishment was that which was carried out every single day on every single prisoner. Solitary confinement. No talking or communicating was allowed, ever. Nor were visits from outside. Once inside Ramsbard you were dead to all but the guards. To go to Ramsbard meant life. The few who escaped faced constant fear of being recaptured. They became gibbering wrecks who always had to look over their shoulder to avoid being sent back to the living death that had only one name: Ramsbard.
Only the most dangerous and incapable of reformation, or those who had run afoul of vindictive royalty, were sent to that death-hole. Those who no one cared about. Ramsbard was a secret place deep in the forests of the Second Kingdom, made all the more inaccessible by being situated on a small island in the middle of a very large lake. No news or information ever reached there. The royalty of all the Nine Kingdoms knew of its existence and some from each Kingdom were inmates; trolls, fairies, sprites, goblins, elves, dwarves, satyrs, men, fauns, and the black wolf.
She could hardly recall the outside world now, but it was the memory of who she was and what her parents were that kept her alive, kept the tiny spark of hope alight.
The signal!
A raven dropped from the skies, right in front of her slit window, uttering a harsh call-to-arms for all the convicts.
In answer to the raven's call, the black wolf started pounding on the door of her cell in time with the baying out of a wild, intimidating chant, 'Haarooh, haarooh, haarooh, haarooh...!'
The rhythm was taken up by the prisoners in the cells, one by one they joined in like a chain of beacons along the coast, until it resounded like thunder through the stone walls of the prison.
Just as quickly as the chant had been taken up, it was slowly dying away like a flame being doused by a single, powerful jet of water. The reason soon became obvious. The heavy clumping of a pair of metal-toed boots was pounding wrathfully along the corridor. As they passed each cell the cry died from within, but eyes came to every spyhole to see what would happen.
Soon, only one voice carried on, the last tiny flame in a darkened sea – the black wolfs'. The iron-shod guard halted outside her door, while she continued to pound it from within. 'Quiet in there!'
This just served to make the wolf louder; her whole body sounded like it was being flung against the portal, just to make a point. Sneering coldly, the prison guard took out a mass of keys and unlocked the doorway. He was no match for one half-starved, crazy wolf – that had already been proved before.
As soon as she heard the key turn in the lock, the black wolf stood to the hinge side of the entrance. She watched impassively as the shaven brute head of the guard thrust itself into her already cramped cell. 'I tol' you before. One more act like this and I'd take yer tail. Think I was jokin', did yer? I've never 'eard a wolf scream like you did when we took yer eye. Fair gladdened me 'eart it did. Let's 'ear you scream again fer me, pretty one...'
The bear-like guard lunged to grab the skinny form of the black wolf, but he misjudged by far the natural agility and speed she had, despite years of incarceration. She dodged him nimbly and tripped him in the same movement, sending him sprawling across the wooden bench.
Only when, panicked, he found himself pinned to the ground with the wolf sitting on his back, did he realise his mistake at not obeying one of the most fundamental prison rules – never confront prisoners alone.
He turned his flabby face to look at the convict, and he trembled at what he saw – a single eye seemed ablaze with hatred and the weapons of slaughter for which she had been found guilty of using clearly drawn out, and they weren't there for show. This was not one of the most dangerous prisoners in the kingdoms for nothing.
Her face was brought right up to his quivering jowls and her voice hissed between bared fangs, 'I won't scream for you, scum, no, this time you'll scream for me.'
The guard fought for breath and words escaped his deathly pale face, 'Please... mercy... spare me...'
The wolf laughed in his face, 'You tortured me, threatened me, starved me and never once did I sink so low as to beg for mercy. No, wolves and men are so much different. We have pride. You are a coward who cannot face the thought of his own torture. You know what happens to cowards in old tales, don't you?'
The guard's head shook with both fear and bewilderment. A faint smile twitched at the corners of the wolfs' mouth. 'Of course you do. A coward always meets an untimely end. I would love to prolong this moment but unfortunately I have other business to attend to. Goodbye.'
The guard emitted a final gurgling scream as the wolfs' razor-sharp fangs ripped through his soft, baggy throat. She paid no heed to him as he convulsed his last on the slime-ridden floor in a rapidly growing pool of his own blood. Snatching up the keys from his prostrate form, she walked out through the door and started unlocking all the cells. All types of prisoner breathed their first zephyr of freedom. 'Don't get over-excited yet, brothers. We have only cleared the first hurdle, the rest is yet to come.'
A congregation was made in one of the corridors. All the escaped prisoners were present. A troll lifted the black wolf onto his shoulders so she could be both seen and heard.
'My brothers, we have cleared a mighty obstacle, but many remain in our path to freedom. If we get out, we must not go back where we can be found – that means to families or friends. There will be a mighty hunt, if you are caught you say to no one about the whereabouts of any others. I will personally kill any who do. You know what is at risk now – your very freedom. We who are dubbed the most dangerous in all the Nine Kingdoms!'
A great cheer erupted; there were more than a few who were proud of their reputation. The wolf noted as she looked at the enraptured faces that not only was she the only wolf in the prison, but she was the only female. She took it as a compliment.
'Today we are having a party, to which I think it would be churlish not to invite our kind hosts who have kept us long beyond our bedtime, and we were too polite to refuse their hospitality! So let them join the fun – to death or freedom. I will not rot in that cell any longer!'
Cheers and roars of approval followed the lean wolf as she ran to the bottom of a flight of stairs where a weighty bell was hung. Ringing it with all her might, the black wolf called the guests of honour to her freedom celebration.
Guards poured down stone stairways at the ringing of the alarm bell and were met with the fierce onslaught of prisoners who fought with the ferocity of years of pent up aggression and hatred. The inmates surrounded the guards and battled with makeshift weapons purloined from their cells and the corridors. Chains and spars of wood were much in evidence along with rarer weapons such as knives made from discarded plates and belts made into nooses.
Bodies piled up along the wall, guards and prisoners alike, but the battle was won. A mighty roar went up from the survivors at their hard- fought freedom.
Kitchens and barracks were raided and any food or anything of use was taken. Boxes of the things, which had been taken away from them at their arrival, were taken back. Delighted yells and shouts of rage at missing or stolen items mingled with the songs of others.
Armed with a lit torch and pails of vegetable oil, the black wolf and the troll who had lifted her soaked anything flammable with the oil and set light to it with shouts of 'Burn! Follow us or burn with it!'
The black wolf led the way to the main gate and threw the doors open wide trailed by smoke, flames and the escaped convicts.
'Go! Go, my brothers, find your freedom!'
Roars of happiness and oaths of friendship went past the wolf as she watched them leave in boats.
Wanting to walk around the prison one last time, she came upon a thin, frail-looking man crouched in the shadows of the wall. She sat beside him.
'You alright, mate?'
The man looked at her with frightened grey eyes. He'd been there longer than any of them and didn't know if he could survive in the outside world. The prison had become his world, his home, such as it was, and the prospect of the outside world away from the routine of keys and guards was terrifying to the old man.
Pity for the old man penetrated the black wolfs' hardened heart and she laid a flea-ridden paw on his hand, her single eye full of concern.
'I know, strange isn't it? We've wanted this for so long yet when we finally get it suddenly the thought of freedom is overwhelming. You can travel with me if you want. Think of it, a life in the forests, fresh meat, birdsong...'
'I can't.'
The man was trembling beneath her touch. She tried to steady him with her presence, but it didn't work. She sighed heavily.
'I can't leave you here alone now, can I?'
The light of an idea was suddenly bright in the old mans eyes. 'You'll do it for me, won't you, lass? I can't leave and I can't stay. You'll give me my freedom, won't you?'
The black wolf looked into those old eyes and knew what he was asking. She nodded with a reassuring smile. Yes, if that was what he wanted she'd give him his eternal freedom. A last mercy.
The black wolf emerged from the shadows where she'd left the slumped body of the old man against the wall. She shook her loose fur, enjoying the sunlight. A raven settled on her thin shoulder. She stroked his head affectionately.
'Thank you, Rab. Without you we'd never have done it.'
The raven cocked its head and looked at her questioningly with one of its intelligent eyes.
'You're right, mate, I can't hang about here any longer. Come on, let's go home!'
The raven took to the air as the wolf dived into the lake, washing away years of grime and filth and the latest addition of fresh blood that left a crimson trail behind her.
Panting as she reached the bank, she hauled herself onto its firm surface and lay there until she regained her breath. The raven perched above her, keeping a firm lookout. She needed to make a fair distance from the prison before she rested. With this thought in mind she struggled to her feet and set off through the trees.
Raven, daughter of Luna and Tamarisk, was back on the loose.
Disclaimer: I do not own the 10th Kingdom or any of the places or characters associated with the book or series. However, any character not directly associated is of my own creation, so please do not use them without my permission.
Prologue
All alone, the black wolf brooded on many thoughts already considered several times during her long incarceration.
Slime dripped down the walls into small green pools, its patterns burnt inexorably into her mind. Silence reigned over all, but for the occasional clumping of a guard's booted feet or the raving of a prisoner driven insane by years of solitary confinement. This was the world in which the black wolf had lived for uncountable days. The harshest prison in all the Nine Kingdoms. Those who knew of its existence trembled at its name: Ramsbard.
She perched on the single thin wooden bench, both her bed and her seat, brooding, turning everything over in her mind. She waited. Not long now.
Dim light filtered in through the single slit of a window. At night she could only see but a few stars when the night was clear. She could never see the moon, and could hardly tell what season it was. Some life. Refraining from the mad, urgent desire to pace her cell, to relieve the boredom, knowing what she would find. Four paces no matter which direction she took. Always four paces.
She was no longer an attractive wolf, although she had been once; the pitch black fur that covered her entire body was riddled with scars and blemishes, the most notable being the one in the perfect shape of a ram's head. It had been burned into the living flesh on her shoulder on the day of her arrival. Her back was uneven with proud flesh, the welts of innumerable whippings with a metal-tipped rod. Her claws were long and unworn and a solitary fang jutted over her bottom jaw. A single, baleful, amber eye glared at the blank, green, stone wall. The other had been closed permanently as punishment for unruly behaviour and incitement to rebellion. They had threatened to take her tail. They would pay for that.
Not long now.
The cruelty of the guards was renowned throughout the underworld of the Kingdoms. Few of even the most hardened criminals talked of it openly for fear that invoking its name would bring down some of its curse upon them. Vicious lashings and indiscriminate torture were commonplace. They were easy to bear. Mutilations like that which had been inflicted upon the black wolf were not exceptional. The worst punishment was that which was carried out every single day on every single prisoner. Solitary confinement. No talking or communicating was allowed, ever. Nor were visits from outside. Once inside Ramsbard you were dead to all but the guards. To go to Ramsbard meant life. The few who escaped faced constant fear of being recaptured. They became gibbering wrecks who always had to look over their shoulder to avoid being sent back to the living death that had only one name: Ramsbard.
Only the most dangerous and incapable of reformation, or those who had run afoul of vindictive royalty, were sent to that death-hole. Those who no one cared about. Ramsbard was a secret place deep in the forests of the Second Kingdom, made all the more inaccessible by being situated on a small island in the middle of a very large lake. No news or information ever reached there. The royalty of all the Nine Kingdoms knew of its existence and some from each Kingdom were inmates; trolls, fairies, sprites, goblins, elves, dwarves, satyrs, men, fauns, and the black wolf.
She could hardly recall the outside world now, but it was the memory of who she was and what her parents were that kept her alive, kept the tiny spark of hope alight.
The signal!
A raven dropped from the skies, right in front of her slit window, uttering a harsh call-to-arms for all the convicts.
In answer to the raven's call, the black wolf started pounding on the door of her cell in time with the baying out of a wild, intimidating chant, 'Haarooh, haarooh, haarooh, haarooh...!'
The rhythm was taken up by the prisoners in the cells, one by one they joined in like a chain of beacons along the coast, until it resounded like thunder through the stone walls of the prison.
Just as quickly as the chant had been taken up, it was slowly dying away like a flame being doused by a single, powerful jet of water. The reason soon became obvious. The heavy clumping of a pair of metal-toed boots was pounding wrathfully along the corridor. As they passed each cell the cry died from within, but eyes came to every spyhole to see what would happen.
Soon, only one voice carried on, the last tiny flame in a darkened sea – the black wolfs'. The iron-shod guard halted outside her door, while she continued to pound it from within. 'Quiet in there!'
This just served to make the wolf louder; her whole body sounded like it was being flung against the portal, just to make a point. Sneering coldly, the prison guard took out a mass of keys and unlocked the doorway. He was no match for one half-starved, crazy wolf – that had already been proved before.
As soon as she heard the key turn in the lock, the black wolf stood to the hinge side of the entrance. She watched impassively as the shaven brute head of the guard thrust itself into her already cramped cell. 'I tol' you before. One more act like this and I'd take yer tail. Think I was jokin', did yer? I've never 'eard a wolf scream like you did when we took yer eye. Fair gladdened me 'eart it did. Let's 'ear you scream again fer me, pretty one...'
The bear-like guard lunged to grab the skinny form of the black wolf, but he misjudged by far the natural agility and speed she had, despite years of incarceration. She dodged him nimbly and tripped him in the same movement, sending him sprawling across the wooden bench.
Only when, panicked, he found himself pinned to the ground with the wolf sitting on his back, did he realise his mistake at not obeying one of the most fundamental prison rules – never confront prisoners alone.
He turned his flabby face to look at the convict, and he trembled at what he saw – a single eye seemed ablaze with hatred and the weapons of slaughter for which she had been found guilty of using clearly drawn out, and they weren't there for show. This was not one of the most dangerous prisoners in the kingdoms for nothing.
Her face was brought right up to his quivering jowls and her voice hissed between bared fangs, 'I won't scream for you, scum, no, this time you'll scream for me.'
The guard fought for breath and words escaped his deathly pale face, 'Please... mercy... spare me...'
The wolf laughed in his face, 'You tortured me, threatened me, starved me and never once did I sink so low as to beg for mercy. No, wolves and men are so much different. We have pride. You are a coward who cannot face the thought of his own torture. You know what happens to cowards in old tales, don't you?'
The guard's head shook with both fear and bewilderment. A faint smile twitched at the corners of the wolfs' mouth. 'Of course you do. A coward always meets an untimely end. I would love to prolong this moment but unfortunately I have other business to attend to. Goodbye.'
The guard emitted a final gurgling scream as the wolfs' razor-sharp fangs ripped through his soft, baggy throat. She paid no heed to him as he convulsed his last on the slime-ridden floor in a rapidly growing pool of his own blood. Snatching up the keys from his prostrate form, she walked out through the door and started unlocking all the cells. All types of prisoner breathed their first zephyr of freedom. 'Don't get over-excited yet, brothers. We have only cleared the first hurdle, the rest is yet to come.'
A congregation was made in one of the corridors. All the escaped prisoners were present. A troll lifted the black wolf onto his shoulders so she could be both seen and heard.
'My brothers, we have cleared a mighty obstacle, but many remain in our path to freedom. If we get out, we must not go back where we can be found – that means to families or friends. There will be a mighty hunt, if you are caught you say to no one about the whereabouts of any others. I will personally kill any who do. You know what is at risk now – your very freedom. We who are dubbed the most dangerous in all the Nine Kingdoms!'
A great cheer erupted; there were more than a few who were proud of their reputation. The wolf noted as she looked at the enraptured faces that not only was she the only wolf in the prison, but she was the only female. She took it as a compliment.
'Today we are having a party, to which I think it would be churlish not to invite our kind hosts who have kept us long beyond our bedtime, and we were too polite to refuse their hospitality! So let them join the fun – to death or freedom. I will not rot in that cell any longer!'
Cheers and roars of approval followed the lean wolf as she ran to the bottom of a flight of stairs where a weighty bell was hung. Ringing it with all her might, the black wolf called the guests of honour to her freedom celebration.
Guards poured down stone stairways at the ringing of the alarm bell and were met with the fierce onslaught of prisoners who fought with the ferocity of years of pent up aggression and hatred. The inmates surrounded the guards and battled with makeshift weapons purloined from their cells and the corridors. Chains and spars of wood were much in evidence along with rarer weapons such as knives made from discarded plates and belts made into nooses.
Bodies piled up along the wall, guards and prisoners alike, but the battle was won. A mighty roar went up from the survivors at their hard- fought freedom.
Kitchens and barracks were raided and any food or anything of use was taken. Boxes of the things, which had been taken away from them at their arrival, were taken back. Delighted yells and shouts of rage at missing or stolen items mingled with the songs of others.
Armed with a lit torch and pails of vegetable oil, the black wolf and the troll who had lifted her soaked anything flammable with the oil and set light to it with shouts of 'Burn! Follow us or burn with it!'
The black wolf led the way to the main gate and threw the doors open wide trailed by smoke, flames and the escaped convicts.
'Go! Go, my brothers, find your freedom!'
Roars of happiness and oaths of friendship went past the wolf as she watched them leave in boats.
Wanting to walk around the prison one last time, she came upon a thin, frail-looking man crouched in the shadows of the wall. She sat beside him.
'You alright, mate?'
The man looked at her with frightened grey eyes. He'd been there longer than any of them and didn't know if he could survive in the outside world. The prison had become his world, his home, such as it was, and the prospect of the outside world away from the routine of keys and guards was terrifying to the old man.
Pity for the old man penetrated the black wolfs' hardened heart and she laid a flea-ridden paw on his hand, her single eye full of concern.
'I know, strange isn't it? We've wanted this for so long yet when we finally get it suddenly the thought of freedom is overwhelming. You can travel with me if you want. Think of it, a life in the forests, fresh meat, birdsong...'
'I can't.'
The man was trembling beneath her touch. She tried to steady him with her presence, but it didn't work. She sighed heavily.
'I can't leave you here alone now, can I?'
The light of an idea was suddenly bright in the old mans eyes. 'You'll do it for me, won't you, lass? I can't leave and I can't stay. You'll give me my freedom, won't you?'
The black wolf looked into those old eyes and knew what he was asking. She nodded with a reassuring smile. Yes, if that was what he wanted she'd give him his eternal freedom. A last mercy.
The black wolf emerged from the shadows where she'd left the slumped body of the old man against the wall. She shook her loose fur, enjoying the sunlight. A raven settled on her thin shoulder. She stroked his head affectionately.
'Thank you, Rab. Without you we'd never have done it.'
The raven cocked its head and looked at her questioningly with one of its intelligent eyes.
'You're right, mate, I can't hang about here any longer. Come on, let's go home!'
The raven took to the air as the wolf dived into the lake, washing away years of grime and filth and the latest addition of fresh blood that left a crimson trail behind her.
Panting as she reached the bank, she hauled herself onto its firm surface and lay there until she regained her breath. The raven perched above her, keeping a firm lookout. She needed to make a fair distance from the prison before she rested. With this thought in mind she struggled to her feet and set off through the trees.
Raven, daughter of Luna and Tamarisk, was back on the loose.