Shieldwolf Dawning (10 page)

The merchant shook his bald head. "No, no. Not you." He pointed at Samarra. "
You
."

"I didn't do it. I promise." Samarra held up her hands in reflex. Cassian put his arm around her shoulder protectively. The merchant shuffled closer and pushed Cassian out of the way with ease.

"You look just like a gaian I used to know." He clicked his stubby fingers and levitated until he was at eye level with Samarra. "Hmm…" He grabbed her chin and turned her head this way and that. "What happened was a tragedy." He traced a mark over his heart before he floated back down to the ground.

"What do you mean?" Cassian asked.

The merchant leaned against the counter and shook his head as if reliving something too horrible to mention. Before he could answer, they were interrupted. "There you are!"

Samarra wheeled around at the noise. Merganser stood directly behind her, not amused. "Must I chain you both to me in future?" she asked in clipped tones. She pointed the tip of her staff at the merchant. The atmosphere chilled instantly. Her appearance seemed more menacing than usual. "Rafiow Tickblade," she warned. "You will speak no more of this nonsense."

The dwarf scowled but said nothing, as if he feared what Merganser might do to him if he angered her further. Merganser stood scowling back at him for a tense moment before she spun on her heel and ushered Samarra and Cassian out of the shop.

"What nonsense?" Samarra asked Merganser on the way to the seamstress.

"Idle talk. Pay no attention to his words. He is losing his wits in his advanced age." Merganser checked her holowatch. "I must get you fitted immediately. We cannot be caught walking through Iggibar Monds at night. The path is treacherous enough in the daylight."

Samarra wanted to ask more, but knew she wouldn't get far with her questions. She was lost in thought when Merganser introduced them to a group of fussy gaian seamstresses. The seamstresses talked softly amongst themselves as they worked to measure Samarra and Cassian for training, combat, and formal uniforms as well as under-armour gear. Bolt after bolt of charcoal fabrics and light woollen cloth piled up on a side table as each set of measurements was completed. Samarra overheard that her uniforms would be delivered to Shieldwolf Proper by end of day. Her measurements would also be sent to the armour worker as reinforced field armour, which could camouflage into earth tones, would take a little longer because the rare materials required to make it took some time to collect.

Samarra watched Merganser engage in small talk with the head seamstress. When all was done, Merganser bowed in her deepest thanks. The Shieldwolves paid for nothing, given their role as the guardians of Kairuhan. Merganser led Samarra and Cassian through the marketplace until she found a mushroom-shaped rock inlaid with large, glowing gems on its cap.

"Lay your hands on one of the gems," Merganser said.

Samarra did as she was told. In the blink of an eye, she was at the entrance of the mountain.

"That was fun. Can we do it again?" she asked giddily, but Merganser was preoccupied with Cassian. She wiped his face with her handkerchief as he tried to steady himself.

Alarmed, Samarra rushed to his side. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, looking slightly embarrassed.

Merganser waited until Cassian had collected himself and pointed her staff north. "We walk that way."

****

It was hours before they reached the foot of Blackrock Peak. And it would be hours before they reached the outer walls of Shieldwolf Proper. At the furthest edges of Iggibar Monds, the terrain had graduated from rock to grass and eventually flattened out. Samarra had been grateful for the respite — scrambling up and down winding paths had exhausted her. Now, it was time to trudge up another mountain. Although it was already late afternoon and the sun was making its descent, the air was still uncomfortably humid. Samarra wiped the sweat from her brow and sat down on a patch of grass to catch her breath. Not too far away, Cassian rested under a small tree. Merganser stood watch over them in silence.

After a quick drink of water, the group moved on. Samarra huffed and puffed up the mountain and paused at the overlook for a rest. The mountain ranges of Gudrun Wade stretched north. Unlike the persistent grey rock of Iggibar Monds, the terrain here was a mix of darker volcanic rock and long stretches of grass. Trees and shrubs indigenous to the region grew in abundance, and a carpet of wildflowers marked the mountain with vivid colours. To the west, local farms dotted rolling green pastures that went on for miles.

The group climbed farther up the mountain for perhaps another hour until they reached a towering, dark wall that blocked them from ascent. Thick silver posts rose from the ground, providing the wall with a structural frame. Sealed between the posts were smooth obsidian bricks that pulsed with a muted glow. Extending from the top of the wall and curving gently to meet at a central point was a transparent dome of energy, wafer-thin and porous, yet impossibly strong. It reminded Samarra of the Sairfang Estate. With a low rumble, carved symbols became visible on each brick and the wall sprang to life. A smooth, arched door with no handle or bolt took shape.

"Protective binds," Merganser said matter-of-factly.

Samarra gasped when the insignia above the doorway lit up. The symbol was an exact replica of the tattoo on her arm, which suddenly burned to the touch. Cassian seemed to be experiencing the same sensation by the way he nursed his arm. Without warning, the door seemed to exhale and thick smoke filled the area. Samarra coughed and moved out of the blinding cloud, but she tripped over a rock and tumbled to the ground. The smoke cleared to reveal a face in the door. Samarra was speechless.

"New recruits?" the face asked in bored tones.

"Yes, Obsidian," Merganser answered. "Here is the Son as foreseen by Aletheia."

"And the other one?"

"Gaian support."

"Gaian support?" Obsidian raised one brow. "Imeron Wolfrunner, the father of all Shieldwolves, turns in his grave on this tragic day. We do not need to take in more gaians than what our mandate dictates. The girl is evidence that Shieldwolf standards fall dismally low in troubled times. The Son may pass, but this one… Well, look at her." Obsidian's sharp eyes zeroed in on Samarra.

Samarra could feel her head getting hot. Tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to control herself, but her rising temper was getting the better of her. As if she could sense what Samarra was thinking, Merganser held out her staff.
"Stop!"

But Samarra was stuck in the red of her rage at the wall. She scrambled to her feet. "One…" She balled up her right fist. "Two … three!" She raced at Obsidian with every bit of strength she could muster.

"Sammy, don't!" Cassian warned, but he was too late.

"You mean muckface!" Samarra roared, and with a bone-crushing
crack
she punched the solid rock. She immediately crumpled to her knees, howling and screaming and clutching her throbbing hand. Tears gushed down her face. The pain in her hand was unbearable.

"This is no time for games." Merganser pointed her staff at Obsidian. "Allow us entry immediately." Obsidian's smug face dissolved and the door returned to a smooth finish before it swung inward.

Merganser checked Samarra's hand. "I fear your bones are fractured, if not broken. I will take you to the infirmary before we part ways." She cast a spell to ease the pain and helped Samarra to her feet. "Cassian, I will escort you to your sleeping quarters. In the morning you will join the others for your first day of basic training. Now, follow me." Merganser entered Shieldwolf Proper with a purposeful stride.

Shieldwolves had bases in all seven territories of Kairuhan, and Shieldwolf Proper was apparently the largest. The quadrangle stretched up and across the eastern face of the mountain. Low-rising buildings, a handful of which reminded Samarra of Merganser's cottage, were clumped around the grassy expanse. There were sleeping quarters, storehouses, and more. Also scattered throughout were flora native to the region. Thousands of Shieldwolves lived on the immense base.

Merganser pointed out the grove of contemplation. Blessed by the soothing waters of a bubbling spring, the grove lay in what looked like the quietest section of the biodome. A tall circle of rocks marked the ground a sacred space. Nearby were greenhouses in which fruit, vegetables, and herbs grew all year round. In the opposite quarter, a magnificent silver tree stretched out and up. The tree was guarded by four wolf statues made of obsidian. The southern quarters housed training ranges and dozens of equipment racks. Samarra could make out a huge armoury in the southwest and stables in the southeast. A little north was Parade Square, the field where the Shieldwolves held most of their outdoor ceremonies.

"This place is huge," Samarra said, forgetting her pain for a moment.

"I know," Merganser replied and led them on.

The main tower dominated the centre of the courtyard. Silk banners emblazoned with tribal images of black wolves hung from the walls. Patterned with graduating shades of volcanic rock and topped with a spire reinforced by silver scales, the circular structure was impossible to miss. A flowering terrace on the ground level gave a pop of colour to the building. The terrace was also home to a large silver gong and a colourful mosaic fountain.

Despite the pain in her hand, Samarra wanted to linger on the grounds, but Merganser ushered her quickly onto the terrace. They entered the tower and went up a short ramp to the infirmary. Rows of freshly made beds lined the stone walls of the sterile room. Silver shelves were stocked with hundreds of glass containers filled with magical herbs and liquids. Large open windows invited a cooling breeze into the room. Merganser spoke quietly with the gaian healer on duty. Shieldwolf Nicander was about as old as Merganser and had the same brisk, no-nonsense demeanor.

"Sit." He examined Samarra's hand. Samarra cried out in agony when he moved her fingers back and forth. He stepped away for a moment to prepare a medicinal booster. "Drink this."

Samarra screwed up her face at the bitter aftertaste. "That's gross."

Shieldwolf Nicander waited a minute before he applied salve to Samarra's hand. She felt a tingling sensation in her fingers. Seconds later, her hand stopped hurting. "Your bones must remain undisturbed overnight," he said as he bandaged her hand. "You will have to remain here until morning."

"I don't want to stay here." Samarra tried to get up, but the nurse pushed her back gently.

"It is best that you stay. If there are complications, I will be here to assist you."

"But—"

"The green tablet will keep you busy," Merganser said with a stern eye.

"Your knuckles will be as good as new by morning." With that, the healer escorted Merganser and Cassian from the infirmary.

Samarra frowned. Her brother had not even waved goodbye. As quiet as a mouse, she watched the Shieldwolf wipe down his workspace and sweep the floors. When he left the infirmary to attend to other matters, she jumped out of bed and explored the area until she ran out of things to look at. When she climbed back into bed she covered herself with a warm blanket and set the tablet to thought recognition. Samarra closed her eyes and searched for information on Aletheia's Vision. She was ready for answers to some of her more pressing questions.

Basic Training

The air in Parade Square was drowsy with the murmur of insects. Although the grounds provided some shade with a backdrop of tall pine trees, the midday sun shone hot on Samarra's face. She wiped the sweat from her brow and squinted to count the flags and banners that framed the podium. Merganser stood at attention to one side of the stage; her staff rested upright in her hand. Like everyone else, she was in full ceremonial uniform, but with more decorative ribbons than most others. A group of Shieldwolf battlemasters stood in semi-circle formation to Merganser's right — solemn figures keeping watch over the new recruits, or swains, as they were more often called. The swains were focused on the silver lectern floating centre stage while they waited for two Elders to arrive. Samarra had yet to meet these Elders, but she recognized their names. Irik of the Moors was next to appear.

"I'm bored," Samarra grumbled to herself and anyone else who cared to listen. Her designated spot was number two, third row. She had been standing at attention for close to an hour next to Cassian, number one. At first the waiting hadn't been too bad, but Samarra was growing more restless as the morning progressed. To pass the time, which seemed to move slower here than on Gaia, she flip-flopped her attention from the lectern to the tree stump at her far right. Apart from the
skreek-skreek
of the creatures in the stump, the area was relatively calm. Samarra had hoped to find something new and interesting to keep her entertained, but there was nothing around she hadn't already seen. She faced the front and sighed deeply as if it were the end of the world.

Leaves rustled near the stump. Samarra honed in on a movement in the bushes. She waited with bated breath, but nothing happened. She was about to face the front again when a baby fire ant as big as a goat stumbled into the open.

"Oh, you're so cute," Samarra cooed.

After checking to see if anyone important was looking her way, she reached into her pocket for one of the cookies she had taken from the mess hall that morning. "Here." She broke off a piece and threw it at the creature. The fire ant stumbled around on six wobbly legs and headed to the treat. Its antennae flayed wildly as it absorbed the details of its environment. The fire ant nibbled on the biscuit as tiny fireworks erupted from the speckled exoskeleton covering its back.