1.
The small procession faltered at the snow-covered tree line at the base of the mountain. Once inside those trees they would pass into Wolven territory. The more superstitious of the party harked back to the stories told at night by their parents and retold by gleeful older siblings, warning them of the feral half-men who would feast on their still beating hearts should they venture too deep into the forest. Their anxieties had been a source of light hearted mockery to the others over the course of their four day journey, but now faced with the dark reality of the Lost Forest even those teasing voices fell silent.
They had journeyed far beyond Winchester borders out of desperate necessity. Powerful enemies were massing to the east and south and Lord John was forced to reach out to ancient northern allies or face annihilation. So far the old alliances had not failed. His armies were swelled by men sent in aid but he still could not yet hope to repel the forces gathering against him. This trek into the mountains was a last hope for his people. If he could persuade the Wolven First, Michael, to send his warriors to assist then they stood a chance.
Lord John turned in his saddle to gruffly address his small retinue. He had travelled lightly with only his eldest son, two Hunters and four squires. "We are expected. We pass through this land with permission and protection. We come in supplication and you will behave accordingly." He looked over to Dean, who was bent forward and whispering soothing words to his nervous horse. "Understand that are here on our hands and knees. We will beg and grovel and kiss Michael's ass if that's what it takes. You know what's expected of you Dean. If we fail here today ..."
"We won't fail."
He took quiet pride in his son's confidence but scowled in frustration at being interrupted. "Should we fail, you will ride back to take command of our men. I'll turn west and try to buy support from the sea-ports."
Dean spat in the snow by his horses feet. "Mercenaries? We'd be fighting to our front while watching our backs."
"We may not have a choice," John rumbled. "Bobby said the First was willing to grant us an audience but made no assurances beyond that. The wolves haven't involved themselves with our kind for generations."
"We'll convince him. If we can't hold Crowley and Lilith back it's only a matter of time before they come crawling all over the mountains."
John grunted noncommittally and kicked to urge his horse forward. They hadn't gone more than a few yards closer to the trees before the carthorse behind them reared, almost tipping the small supply cart. Even as his own horse caught fright he heard Dean calling a warning to the front. He struggled with the reins to control the dancing mare but caught sight of what Dean had seen, what had spooked the horses.
Standing just inside the shadows of the forest were two enormous wolves, easily two, three times the size of the timber wolves which occasionally threatened their farmers. One was standing, larger and darker than it's sitting companion, both calmly watching the display of equine distress they were clearly causing.
Dean had already dismounted and was ordering two of the squires to lead the horses back a ways, resigned to continuing on foot. John dropped out of the saddle and handed the mare over before joining his son at the wagon, grabbing his pack plus food and water skins and striding towards the patiently watching wolves.
The two wolves, evidently their escort, waited only until John and Dean reached the tree line then turned and set off at an easy pace deeper into the forest. The others were forced to run to catch up or risk falling behind.
.
They walked for hours, the ground beneath them rising steadily and becoming treacherously icy until Dean was forced to use his hands to help him climb. Their escort had no difficulty traversing the changing terrain but had to slow their pace to allow for the struggling humans.
He glanced over at his father. He showed no sign yet of fatigue, although Dean attributed that more to the older man's inherent stubbornness rather than his fitness. The Hunters were holding their own but the younger squires were flagging.
"How much further?" He called to the wolves ahead. His father looked stern but said nothing.
The wolves paused and the smaller of the two stepped out of sight behind the larger. There was a soft, human grunt and a moment later a lanky young man stood and stepped around the wolf. He appeared unconcerned by both his nakedness and the chilling wind as he approached Dean and John.
"My apologies. We are unused to the limitations of humans."
Dean bristled but the young man's tone was respectful and light.
"My name is Samandriel. Do you require rest?"
"Do we have much further to go?" Dean repeated.
"Not at all. If your young are able to continue we will arrive shortly."
Dean looked over at the squires and was amused by the sudden indignant determination that bloomed on their faces.
"I think our young will be just fine," he smiled. Samandriel nodded and to Dean's surprise elected to continue the journey as a man alongside them.
"We are pleased to welcome you to our lands Lord John. It is an age since we last entertained human guests, your envoy notwithstanding. "
Dean knew his father well enough to recognise the discomfort he was concealing at having to converse with a naked youth as though it were a daily event, and took guilty humour in it.
"I look forward to meeting your First. Sir Robert thinks most highly of him."
Dean hoped that Samandriel would not question his father's diplomacy. In truth Bobby had described the werewolf leader as arrogant at best and despotic at worst. He had spent almost a month in the mountains before ultimately succeeding in winning John nothing more than an audience.
"I liked Sir Robert very much. He used to tell us the most wonderful stories." Samandriel had the kind of puppyish energy and exuberance that was hard not to catch and Dean found himself grinning along with the other Hunters as the lad inexpertly rehashed old legends and fairytales from their childhoods.
John alone remained impassive as they climbed up through the thickening landscape. Though maybe not quite alone; as Samandriel was about to launch into yet another of Bobby's tales the dark wolf leading the group let out a quick bark and Samandriel fell instantly silent, hanging his head submissively. He turned to smile at Dean. "My apologies. I forget my place. But we are here."
John and Dean both looked around quickly as though they had somehow missed entering the Wolven stronghold but saw nothing but forest.
"Forgive me. Past the rocks," he pointed ahead at two huge and intricately carved standing stones set in a gap in the trees. Despite their size Dean had not noticed them before the young wolf had pointed them out. "Ancient magic. A protection of sorts. Please, follow me."
The dark wolf had already disappeared through the stones and Samandriel now followed, leaving the human party gaping at his fading image.
John huffed as though to dispel any doubts the others may have had of his resolve and strode through the stones himself, Dean only a step behind him. A feeling of warmth spread through Dean and in the next step was gone, an invisible barrier breached, and he was suddenly surrounded by dozens of wolves and men that he had not seen there from the other side of the stones. They kept a respectful distance from the newcomers.
Quite apart from their size, the werewolves could never be mistaken for normal wolves. Their limbs were longer and stronger, the shoulders broader. Some had a kind of mane; longer and thicker fur around their necks and down over their shoulders. All exuded a calm watchfulness that seemed incongruous with something so animal.
Their escort had now doubled; alongside the dark wolf and the still man-shaped Samandriel were two other wolves, both slender with sleek blonde fur. The huge dark wolf lowered his head and nuzzled the underside of the shorter blonde's jaw, a gesture of deference Dean had witnessed in his own hunting dogs.
Bobby had tried at length to explain the Wolven hierarchy but Dean had struggled to take it all in on such short notice. Seeing it now he wished the old man were here to guide them through it. He had a hard enough time not offending his own species.
Samandriel dropped to one knee with his head low, the back of his neck bared and vulnerable but the fair wolf paid little attention and after a moment he resumed standing, his submission having apparently been satisfactory. The blonde disappeared behind the dark wolf in the same way that Samandriel had and appeared again as a svelte woman about Dean's age with long blonde hair falling down her back. She was strikingly beautiful but with a hardness that cancelled out her nakedness to Dean's libido. She stood, as Samandriel had, unconcerned by her nudity as she pointedly looked John up and down.
"Lord John, welcome to our territories. I am Rachel, lieutenant to the Second. My Lord Michael wishes to extend to you every courtesy at our disposal and invites you and your son to dine with him this evening. The rest of your group are welcome to eat with us. If it pleases you l shall escort you to your quarters where you may rest and refresh yourselves."
"Please forward my greetings and gratitude to Lord Michael. We would be honoured to dine with him." The platitudes rolled easily off his father's tongue but Dean winced at the stiff formality. His younger brother Sam was the scholar, the diplomat, trained by Bobby to sit as Dean's future advisor as he himself sat for John. Dean was no diplomat and he hoped he would not be required to address anyone of importance. His role here was a much simpler one.
Rachel nodded and the four werewolves took up position around the party of humans, Samandriel and Rachel retaining their human form. He could hear Samandriel behind him talking with the squires, asking questions about their journey and what their duties would be now that they had no horses to tend. He was grateful to the youth for his attempt to put them at ease.
They passed groups of children playing in the snow, in both forms, who stopped their rough-housing to watch the strangers go by. Men and women smiled and waved, wolves lowered their tails and raised their ears. There was an atmosphere of curiosity and Dean couldn't help but grin back and wink at the gawking children. All but a few were naked. He spotted two elderly women by the entrance of a small tent huddled in bear furs, a young girl with a deerskin wrapped around her waist and two men about the same age as his father who wore simple brown tunics of what appeared to be cloth. Some of the older children wore long necklaces adorned with feathers and stones and flowers but the vast majority wore nothing and yet seemed oblivious of the cold air.
They passed several tents of varying sizes, some evidently communal and filled with conversation and laughter, and some more solid structures made from woven branches but nothing built from stone, nothing with any permanence. He remembered that from Bobby - the wolves were semi-nomadic with various settlements like this one scattered throughout the mountains. The main pack travelled between them depending on the hunting, the climate and the whim of the First.
They reached a collection of tents in a quieter area of the settlement. Rachel motioned to them. "Your quarters Lord John. Uriel and Samandriel will remain with you. Please do not hesitate to ask them for anything you require. I shall return at dusk to escort you to dinner." She made an awkward bow, as though she had heard them described but never seen one, and walked away with the other straw-coloured wolf at her heels.
The four squires took one of the larger tents. The two Hunters, Isaac and Tamara took a second leaving John and Dean each with their own tent.
"Get some rest son. We need to impress the wolves and it won't happen if you look like you're about to drop."
"Yes sir." Dean waited until his father had taken a tent then disappeared into the last, noticing that Samandriel and the dark wolf, Uriel, had settled themselves on the ground a little way off. Samandriel had changed unnoticed back into his wolf form and they lay with their backs to the tents, offering the humans some privacy.
Dean was impressed by the number and quality of the furs and skins that decorated the floor of the tent and up onto a raised bed. He pulled off his boots, overcoat and sword belt before sinking into the soft pelts. The mountain hike abruptly caught up to him and he was asleep in moments.