Chapter II

Death's Wolves

Ahmed was surprised at how well Skade had kept up with the pace the horses set. She seemed to jog or walk briskly beside them, level with their shoulders and effortlessly matching their strides. Her bare feet trod steady and sure on the treacherous ground, and Ahmed could see that she knew these woods better than anyone could ever hope to.

But her presence was disconcerting. At least to him. Buliwyf didn't seem the least bit concerned. He seemed to forget she was there.

Skade would alternate between whose horses she walked beside. She was most often in pace with Buliwyf's mount, as if attempting to prove something to him. Ahmed couldn't help but watch her in fascination. She would often look up, her wild face challenging as she stared at Buliwyf, who didn't even bother to return the glance.

The forest thinned, changing to rolling hills. Ahmed saw in the distance…a settlement, assortments of thatched huts through which a muddied, well-trodden road ran. It was a dismal picture, the sky a bleak, sickly gray color to loom over this rude corner of humanity.

Nothing like home Ahmed thought despondently to himself.

Skade paused as she stepped out with the horses onto the open road. She seemed to hesitate, looking back at the forest. Ahmed could see in her face the desire to flee back into the wildness of the trees conflicting with a pride that would not allow her to show any change of mind.

As if he had expected this, Buliwyf had paused, turning his head to look at Skade. The girl stared back at him, her strange pale eyes filled with defiance. She stepped forward resolutely, coming up even with the horse's shoulder.

"Welcome to the land of cowards."

Her words were laden with poison as she spat them out bitterly. Buliwyf didn't seem moved. He simply nudged his horse forward. And Skade followed, still keeping pace.

It was still a long ride to the Mead Hall of King Hrothgar, mounted on the highest point of the settlement. By the time they had reached the building, Skade's bare legs were covered in mud from the calve down. Many of the townsfolk had gazed at her in fear and wonder, though the sight of thirteen fearsome looking warriors, especially that of Buliwyf himself, had already captivated them.

The men all dismounted their horses, going to the doors of the hall. Ahmed wondered if there was any sort of protocol in this culture that he must follow. But he saw the men simply walking into the hall, still fully armed. As he hesitated, he found that he had now fallen in beside Skade. He had to keep himself from wincing away from her. She was as tall, if not taller, as he himself was, and he could see the rigid muscles tensing beneath her pale, heavily scarred skin.

Skade turned her strange eyes toward him, her expression wild and scornful, "Frightened, Arab?"

"No. But you are."

She bared her teeth at him, starting rigidly into the hall. He followed after, feeling a smug satisfaction.

"You know he might be mad."

Herger's statement seemed ridiculous now, though Ahmed himself had battled with the question after seeing the frail old man that acted as king. Skade stood amid the circle of men, suddenly forgetting her enmity towards them. She spoke in a voice void of any real emotion, "Mad, yes…but what he says is true…"

Buliwyf was now taking special interest in Skade. He addressed her, "You lived in the forests your whole life?"

Skade's eyes squinted for a moment, and uncertainty flashed in her face. Then she nodded, "Yes…yes."

"Have you seen any of…them?" Buliwyf's eyes were trained on her now, intense and concentrated.

Skade paused before answering. She turned her face aside, the curtain of her hair shaking slightly. Ahmed's eye caught sight of four jagged scars crossing near her forehead, as if by the claws of some animal.

"This…" Buliwyf pushed aside Skade's hair, indicating the scars. He turned to his men, "You see this?" He turned his attention back to Skade, "What gave you this scar?"

"One of them," Skade's voice was flat and harsh, her eyes set on Buliwyf. "You see now why he is a fool? He cannot protect his own people…he does nothing but sit and wait for them to come!"

Ahmed saw some of the men looking at Skade with a type of awe and admiration. Skeld spoke in disbelief, "How did you escape one?"

"Was there more than one?"

"Did you see it clearly?"

"You were alone?"

"Enough." Buliwyf held up his hand for silence. Skade's head had bowed slightly as if under the weight of the sudden attention.

"Do you know much about them?"

She raised her wild eyes, "I…I don't remember…teeth and claws…but clubs and lances." She rubbed at a heavily scarred shoulder.

"I recognized this girl…" The men all turned, seeing Hrothgar's wife, the elegant Weilew, striding towards them, her eyes set on the wild girl. She reached them, taking Skade's scarred face in her hands, and Ahmed half expected the wild girl to snap with her strangely filed teeth at the queen, but she seemed riveted by the noblewoman, "Daughter of Aslaug…we thought everyone had been killed in that raid. It was at least ten years ago…" She stroked Skade's head as one would a dog to console it, "I'm sure of this…it is her…though she has suffered much, I would know one of Aslaug's brood. And look…"

Folding back Skade's animal hide tunic, Weilew revealed heavily muscled shoulders. Curving around the shoulder blades were two wolf tattoos, each stylized in the northern fashion. She nodded in satisfaction, "Yes, I was sure of it. Only Aslaug and her husband would mark a girl with Fenris and Mangramyn." Turning Skade back to face her, she spoke slowly, as if to a child, "Your name…it's Ötlu. Remember? Ötlu…"

Skade's eyelids flickered once, and then she seemed to hear.

"Ötlu…who is Ötlu?"

Ahmed looked to his companions. Now he knew this girl was mad. That scar must have been from a harsh blow to the head that caused her some mental damage. She couldn't remember whatever previous life she had once had.

"There was a raid on her village some years ago," Weilew explained, turning to the men, her hands still on the newly discovered Ötlu's shoulders, "Everyone was found dead. The bodies were so mutilated that we could not tell who was who. I don't know how she escaped."

She turned to Ötlu, speaking slowly again, "Do you remember? The wendol…" Many of the men shuddered as she spoke the dreaded name. "How did you escape them?"

"Wendol…wendol, wendol!" Ötlu shrieked out the name, her face changing to one of hatred, "Eaters of the dead! Spears and claws! So much blood…" She seemed to cower now, her eyes rolling over white quite suddenly, "A hole… mud…I hid in a hole, and one came after me…and I killed it!" She began to laugh madly, "Yes, I killed it! I broke its neck with my hands! It died in my arms!"

Her laugh sent a chill down Ahmed's spine, and he noted several of the men look with a mixture of fear and admiration toward the girl as she continued speaking, "I skinned it…I took its hide, and I escaped from them! They didn't see me! But I killed it! Yes, I killed it!" She seemed to dance in mad triumph, "And I killed more! Over these years, I've seen them in the forest, and I killed them! I killed them with my hands!"

Then she paused in her laughter, "But they don't stay dead…no, they come back…because of the heads!"

Buliwyf, his face unreadable, reached out and put a hand on the girl's shoulder, steadying her and forcing her to look at him, "Then you can tell us about them? You can show us where they hide?"

Ötlu stared at him as if she had not heard or understood his question. Then she responded, "They do not hide anywhere. They live with the mist. They are the mist, and the mist is them!"

"But you can tell us about them?" Buliwyf was now giving her his full attention, and Ahmed thought he could sense a slight softening towards her…or a creeping admiration. But it appalled him…a young female should not be hardened to such conflict!

"Yes, I can tell you all you want! I want them to all die! Because I remember! I remember the killing, oh yes, the killing…and the blood, and the screams, and the bodies! So many bodies!" Her eyes rolled over into her head again, "I tripped over one…and I didn't know who it was! You can never tell who they are after they are dead! But no heads, no heads at all…all gone!" She began her mad laugh again.

"Take her inside," Buliwyf said to Weilew, shepherding Ötlu towards her. Ötlu didn't resist his help, and allowed Weilew to lead her inside. She was muttering under her breath, saying 'wendol' over and over again, coupled with some words Ahmed didn't know and assumed were curses. She and the queen soon disappeared inside the hall.

Buliwyf's eyes had followed the girl's retreat to the hall. He turned back to his men, and Ahmed thought he saw the hint of a smile on the Norseman's hardened face, "She's a credit to our kind."

Ahmed would have argued. The girl was a maddened savage! But in this culture, it seemed that an ability to fight against any enemy was well respected, no matter what morals the individual possessed.

He spoke now, voicing a concern, "But should we trust her anymore than we can trust the old man? She seems just as mad."

Herger shook his head, smiling grimly, "I trust the marks on her skin more than the babbling of her tongue, don't you?" Ahmed opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again.

There was no understanding these people.