WOLVERINE'S WORLD - THE DAY BEFORE

Some scouts intercepted us and brought us back to the fort. I left the others at the barracks, then I tracked down Shea.

I found him standing among a mix of lesser lords, patiently arbitrating disputes and listening to complaints. Shea was wearing a carnosaur-leather cloak over ancient chainmail armor. He had taken upon himself the rank of warlord - which was Shea's right based on past deeds - and he looked every inch the role. The meeting ended when I appeared. The other lords bowed politely and left us.

"I could kill you," Shea told me disgustedly.

I nodded. "Wasn't there a time when we said things like 'hello' when we met?"

"That was before you created this mess and dropped me into it. What about the Destroyer?"

"No longer a problem," I replied shortly.

The relief that came over Shea's face was obvious.

"What's the situation here?" I asked.

Shea snorted. "I'd say it's fifty-fifty that we go to war with each other before we actually manage to march on the dark-elves."

"What's wrong?" I asked - even though I had a pretty good idea what Shea would say.

"Where do I start? The pious or the bloodthirsty are uncontrollable and have already taken to the field. The lords are bickering with each other. Many of the samurai and militia have decided that their lords are more caught up in petty rivalries than interested in serving the will of the Old One, so rebellion is on the rise. Some ambitious ronin leaders are exploiting the squabbling. Senior lords are negotiating where it will do some good, and cracking heads otherwise, but duels and dominance fights are becoming more and more common."

Actually, that was all rather predictable. The Blood are intrinsically a dangerously restless and touchy people. Put too many of them next to one another and there will be trouble.

"Where's Dugan?" I asked.

"He's the claws of my right hand. He's already had to kill one loud-mouthed lord and a pair of ronin pack-leaders."

"How's Daken working out?" I continued. Actually, I was rather curious about that.

Shea snorted again. "He didn't like the slow pace of organizing an army. That was apparently too boring for him. So he convinced several lords, a number of independent holders, and lots of ronin and other generally angry young Blood to swear themselves to him. So he now has the biggest of the independent packs. They're out scouting, raiding, and ambushing right now."

"I noticed things were hectic just north of here," I admitted.

Shea shook his head. "Daken's young, ambitious, charismatic, and a headlong fighter. And now he's close to having the legitimate right to call himself a warlord. You've created a monster, James. We're all going to regret that."

"He still has to survive our fight with the dark-elves," I pointed out.

Shea let out a bark of laughter. "We should be so lucky that he gets himself killed. His kind usually only perishes amidst a multitude of misguided followers, angry enemies, and innocent victims."

That sounded depressingly accurate.

"It sounds like we better get marching," I suggested.

Shea hesitated. Then he nodded in agreement. There was really no choice.

"We should talk to the Captain," he said.


The Captain of the Point was a tall and broad-shouldered Folk. He also had blue eyes, dark hair worn in a simple pony-tail, sun-browned skin, and several days worth of stubble. As a lord of the Folk, surrounded by lords of the Blood, he'd spent his entire lordship reminding his neighbors that he and his were not to be trifled with. The samurai and supporting forces of the Point were a legendarily tough bunch, but they actually won battles by being smarter and more agile than their foes.

At first glance, you could see that the Captain had a way about him. He was the kind of man that others wanted to follow. I could understand how Blood samurai were willing to serve a man whose lineage made him their supposed inferior. I'd known many of his ancestors and they had been much the same. That was a trait strong in his family. I rather imagined that the day it finally vanished, so would the Point.

"Honored seeker," the Captain said politely, giving me a minimal bow. He didn't look like he'd slept much lately. He was flanked by two Iron Men. One was the bulky gray and black armor that had been on guard duty at the shrine. The other was a lighter and more slender set of armor that had the traditional red and gold colors.

"Captain," I said just as politely, crossing my arms over my chest as I spoke his title. "I had the privilege of knowing your father and grandfather. I regret we have not met until now."

"The Scatter have a agreed to allow the Captain to speak for them," Shea told me.

"Of course," I replied without hesitation. The last time the dark-elves intruded onto our world, the Scatter also had the Captain of that time speak for them. The lineage of Rogers commands tremendous respect among the Scatter.

The Captain didn't mince words with us. "We have to move. We have at best three days before we disintegrate into useless in-fighting. And even if we can somehow delay that, the near region will be stripped of food, game, and forage in about a week."

I nodded in agreement.

"Then we will move," Shea said flatly. "I propose we advance in two divisions along the west-bank of the Huds. The bulk of the Blood will take the fore. Your forces and the Scatter will follow. The Blood already fighting the dark-elves will cover our advance simply by being there. I'll send the remaining hard-cases up ahead with orders to either attack the enemy directly, if it looks like they can win, or infiltrate past them and find a smaller target if they can't. That way they'll do some good while also being out of our hair."

The Captain didn't argue. In fact, he seemed relieved that we were actually discussing strategy. I also detected a certain respect on his part towards Shea. That was good.

"I see what you have in mind," the Captain said thoughtfully. "Your van will engage the enemy first. Once you have solid contact, my forces will swing around the western flank and attempt to pin the dark-elves against the river. It's a good, solid plan. The only problem is that it's predictable."

"There's little we can do about that," Shea responded. "This isn't a cohesive force that's trained and maneuvered together. We have to keep it simple."

The Captain nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Any word from upriver?" I asked.

Shea nodded. "The Fire priestesses say that Alban and Cats Kill have joined forces and are on the move. The local holders are joining them. Our forces on the east and west flanks of the dark-elves are minimal - mostly just hit-and-run raids by small bands of Blood militia and ronin. Most of the Blood in those areas have either joined us or the northern forces, or they're on their way to do so."

The Captain frowned. "Obviously it would be best if we could coordinate our movement with the northern Blood."

"I'm keeping in touch with them," Shea replied. "I think we can coordinate, but nobody in either army has experience with moving and fighting separate formations over great distances."

"You do," I told Shea.

The Captain nodded in agreement.

Shea paused and looked at both of us. He'd earned the right to call himself 'Warlord' almost fifty years ago when he led three columns of various lords in a desperate fight against a zombie outbreak. I wasn't around for that battle, but after I arrived, I personally put a carnosaur cloak around his shoulders.

"I'll communicate further with the northerners," Shea said. "The lords of Alban and Cats Kill are sharing command - that's a good sign. Hopefully I can get them to cooperate with us as well."

The Captain just nodded. With that, the awkward question of who was in command was settled. I was happy with the outcome.

"We march at first light," Shea said steadily.

The Captain and I bowed and left Shea with a mountain of burdens on his shoulders.


The Captain gestured to his two Iron Men. They took to the sky in a roar of their boot-jets. Around us, Blood and other warriors watched us walking together and respectfully got out of our way.

"We need to speak in private," the Captain told me. There were too many Blood, all with very good hearing, in the immediate area.

I nodded towards a hill that was a part of the bluff-line. The wind was blowing in that direction - it wouldn't carry our words back to the camp.

The Captain nodded in agreement.


A young Wilder wordlessly joined us. She was a tiny and handsome black woman with the traditional shaved head of a free telepath. She was silent and deferential, keeping her eyes down around us. Her gray robes were accented with a silk scarf of red, white, and blue. It was the token of her service to the Point and to the Captain.

A pair of Angels - a white-winged male and a red-winged female - followed us for a while, obviously not sure what to make of us. After a particularly low pass, they either recognized us and deferred to our rank, or simply decided to let us be. They banked away and continued back on patrol.

The two Iron Men who had been with the Captain were high in the sky and keeping their distance, but I could tell they had an eye on us. I suppose the Angels would never know how close they came to annihilation if the Iron Men had decided they were a threat to the Captain.

As soon as we got to the hilltop, the woman sat between the Captain and I. Going into a cross-legged lotus position, she placed a psychic shield around us. It occurred to me that she might also be a truth-teller, but that really didn't matter to me. I didn't plan on telling any lies.

Below us the camp was in a turmoil of activity. The word that we were to move had been given.

"Since you're here, I assume the Destroyer is no longer a problem?" the Captain asked.

"Thor took it back to Asgard," I answered. "It's gone."

The Captain looked at me carefully, obviously not sure what to believe. I chose not to take offense. The Captain was an obviously talented and capable man, but like most lords his dealings with spirits, other worlds, and higher powers was limited. It's sometimes difficult for me to remember what that's like.

"That's good," he said eventually. "I'm worried about our chances against the dark-elves. We would have little chance if something like the Destroyer was with them."

"Tell me," he continued, "you've been closer to the dark-elves than most, have you seen anything - anything at all - that might give us an advantage?"

I replied immediately. "They're here for the Destroyer, but they have no way of knowing that it's now beyond their reach."

The Captain nodded. "We might be able to work with that. Is it possible that we could receive aid from Asgard?"

I paused before answering. "Thor destroyed a dark-elf advance force to help us escape, but he also said that Odin is still forbidding contact with Midgard."

That made the Captain sigh. "I've read about the great battle outside of Delphi - and I've also read between the lines and words. Thor's aid was what broke the dark-elves back then."

"There are not as many dark-elves here as we faced back then," I pointed out.

"And we're not the mighty host of the Great Lord," the Captain countered. "We're the best that the lower Huds valley can throw together in a few days. A full dark-elf legion may be too much for us. Could we not simply break into smaller elements, encircle the enemy, and continue harassing the dark-elves, while simultaneously allowing them to learn that the Destroyer is beyond their reach? Might they be convinced to leave our world without running the risk of battle?"

"We must do injury the dark-elves," I said quietly. "They cannot return to Svartalfheim unbloodied. If they do, then they will conclude that they can invade our world at will. The blood we may shed now is nothing compared to what will happen if the dark-elves return in force."

"Is that worth losing the Huds valley?" the Captain responded softly. "Seeing it return to savagery, ruled by wandering bands of Creed because there are few Blood, Wilder, and Folk left to defend their homes and holdings? It might take generations to win the valley back."

"Yes," I said flatly, "it's worth even that."

"That is a harsh decision," the Captain observed quietly. "A decision beyond the realm of a lord or even a seeker. It is the decision of a king."

"The Blood do not have kings," I snapped.

Then the Captain took a deep breath and let it out before speaking again. "Once, the Blood had a Great Lord, and to all purposes he was a king. Some say that his was a time of greatness - a time of prosperity and peace, when Blood, Folk, and Wilder lived together under a wise and just rule."

"The Great Lord is gone, Captain Rogers," I replied slowly. "After the last dark-elf incursion - after that blood-bath at Delphi - he buried his family and vanished. Surely he's long dead."

The Captain seemed to look deep in my eyes. Then he nodded his head in agreement.


Faye and Rahne were waiting for me outside the barracks. They were chatting amiably. It was such a friendly scene that it was possible to forget that Faye had the right - in the name of her dead brother - to challenge to Rahne to a death-duel.

"I found her searching the camp," Faye told me. "She was looking for her boyfriend. I thought it best to bring her back to you."

Rahne shook her head in disgust, but really didn't seem offended. "I heard that David is with the Blood militia. I just wanted to see him."

I noticed that Rahne didn't seem particularly angry at Faye. Given the circumstances, the two of them were being startlingly friendly.

"Your father should know what you're doing," Faye said firmly. However, there was the tiniest smile at the corner of her lips. It gentled her face quite a bit.

"Why is everyone so sure that I'll hoist my skirt as soon as I'm alone with David?" Rahne asked me imploringly.

"We are informed by untold years of the history of young men and young women," I told her. "It helps that all of your elders were once also young."

Then I glanced at Faye. "Thank you," I said.

Faye nodded. Then I looked back at Rahne.

"You may go find David. However, none of the restrictions I have placed on your behavior together have changed. And if you violate those rules, I will visit my wrath on David."

"Yes, sir," Rahne sighed.

"Go," I said.

Rahne darted off. I followed her with my eyes until she vanished into the crowd.

"She's a wonderful girl," Faye chuckled.

"Yes," I said absently. "She would make a beautiful princess."

Faye gave me an odd look. "The Blood have no kings."

"No. No, they don't."

I looked up at the sky. Then I carefully scanned my surroundings.

There were no signs.