The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) (3 page)

Varg examined the body further to find multiple knife wounds in the Count's bloated chest. He could see several knife wounds that seemed panicked and jagged, but the evident cause of death was the wound that punctured the Count's heart. Due to the sloppy nature of the cuts, he could tell that no expert killer did the deed. He knew Milea was well-trained in battle and would never have needed to stab a victim so carelessly to get the job done, so it was only logical to assume that she
was
in fact, innocent of this crime.

Varg replaced the sheet over Count Lerington's head and turned to leave, but stopped when he noticed something near the door. On a small table next to the door lay the Count's clothing and other possessions. Among the small items near his tattered robe was a piece of parchment with a strange symbol. Drawn in dark red ink, the symbol resembled a snake that slithered around a hand. The drawing looked as though it was scribbled in a hurry and underneath it, a strange phrase had been written:

 

The Serpent shall lead the worthy to the Dawn.

 

Varg had no clue why this cryptic message would be among Lerington's personal effects. Without thinking, he instinctively folded the paper and placed it in his pocket. He knew that the Count would never let him back into the castle, so he had to get to Milea and free her some other way before dawn. He contemplated ways he could break into the keep and almost didn't hear the front door opening. Varg quickly found a place to hide behind a stack of wooden coffins. He peeked through a small gap in the wood to see when it was clear to leave, but it wasn't the mortician who entered the room.

Hilda inched her way across the room to the covered corpse of Lord Lerington and began to sniffle. Her red and swollen eyes indicated she'd been weeping for hours. “I'm so sorry Milord. I didn't have a choice!”

Varg couldn't believe his ears. Though he had suspicions about Hilda's story, he still had a hard time believing that she was capable of such a heinous murder. It only made Varg angrier to know that she willingly blamed Milea knowing that she was condemning her to death. As Hilda continued to sob loudly, she never heard him emerge from behind the coffins and march towards her.

Hilda turned to leave a split second before Varg reached her and when she saw him, she screamed and ran for the door. She only barely opened the door when he slammed it shut again.

“You're willing to let an innocent woman perish for your crime?” Varg shouted.

“No! No please, I'm not a killer!” Hilda cried.

“Don't lie to me! I just heard what you said!” Varg spat.

Hilda fell to the floor and broke down like a frightened child. She sobbed so loudly that Varg couldn't hear his own thoughts.

“I did help cover it up, but I didn't kill Count Lerington!” she begged.

“Then tell me who did,” Varg ordered.

Hilda continued to sob and try to catch her breath. Varg didn't want this to get ugly, but an innocent life was on the line, so he had no choice. He reached down and grabbed Hilda by the arms, pulled her to her feet, and gave her the fiercest stare he could. Hilda screamed with terror, but another look from him made her forget her voice.

“Who killed Count Lerington?” Varg repeated.

“It was Milord, Sir. Count Greenwood murdered Count Lerington,” Hilda blurted out.

Varg softened his grip and allowed her to compose himself. He kept a suspicious eye on her mannerisms, then calmly asked, “How do I know you're telling me the truth?”

“Milord never would've helped me cover up a murder, Sir. He would've turned me in if I was the one who killed Count Lerington,” Hilda sobbed.

Varg didn't doubt this, but he continued, “Why did Greenwood make you cover his crime?”

Hilda wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I knew too much, Sir. You see, I walked into Milord's study while he was cuttin' Count Lerington up like a hunter would his kill! Count Greenwood caught me and told me to help clean up and get rid of the body. Once I saw the rage in his eyes, I didn' argue. We carried the body to the mine and he burned all of our clothes when we got back to the castle. Just before you arrived in town, he disguised himself and sent that lady into the mine to clear out some wolves, and made sure she would be there with the body in time for someone to catch her,” Hilda explained.

Varg pressed further. “Why did Greenwood kill Lionel?”

“I don't know, Sir. He just told me to come by because the mortician found a strange paper that he thought his Lordship might be interested in seeing. Milord ordered me to come get the paper and burn it,” Hilda replied.

Varg released his grip from the petrified servant and fished the parchment he found out of his pocket. He unfolded it and showed it to Hilda. “Is this it? Do you know what this is?”

Hilda shook her head. “I don't know, Sir. I've never seen that picture in my life.”

Varg folded the paper and replaced it into his pocket without a response. Then he looked at Hilda with a gentler expression and said, “It's not too late to do the right thing, Hilda. You could tell the town officials what Greenwood did and stop an innocent woman from taking the blame.”

“Milord will have me killed if I talk! Just telling you will earn him my head for sure!” Hilda cried.

“Then tell me how I can get Milea out of the castle,” Varg countered.

“Milea? Oh, you mean the lady,” Hilda said. “Well, there's a door to the barracks that not many people know about. Guards drag the dead bodies through there. You might be able to sneak in through there, but you'd better hurry.”

“Why is that?” Varg asked.

“Because the headsman is already at the keep to get the execution over with,” Hilda revealed.

Varg's heart sank. “What? I thought her execution was at dawn!”

“No Sir, Milord wants to keep the execution out of the public eye, so they're killing her tonight,” Hilda said.

Varg ran to the exit and quickly swung the door open. He was about to run down the street when he stopped and tossed Hilda a bag of coins.

“Wh-what's this for?” she asked in a meek voice.

“Get out of Rivershire, or even out of Fellen altogether, and start a new life. After today, I am sure that the Count will see you as a liability to his freedom from prosecution. You need to get out of here before he has you disposed of,” Varg called. Without another word, he sprinted down the road and left the poor servant girl behind never to see her again.

Once he left the morgue, Varg wanted to run faster than his legs could handle, but he also knew he had to prevent drawing attention to himself and ruining any chance of rescuing Milea. He estimated where the outside of the dungeon was and found a tall brush coming from the wall. Behind the brush, he found a set of stairs leading downward into an old door, which was without a doubt the door Hilda told him about. He tread carefully to the door and tested the knob to discover it was already unlocked. He carefully crept the door open and tip-toed inside.

It was quiet, but Varg assumed Milea might be asleep by this hour, so he didn't give up hope. He navigated through the dark corridor and found the line of cells where Milea was imprisoned. Upon closer inspection, however, the cells appeared to be empty.

Varg's heart sank when he realized that Milea was not in her cell, but a swift jolt to his head quickly averted his attention and caught him completely off guard.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

THROUGH CLOUDED VISION, Varg tried to comprehend what just happened, a sharp lingering ache on the back of his head and hurried voices surrounding him told him that he'd walked right into an ambush. When he finally began to fully regain consciousness, he realized he was on the floor until several hands dragged him into one of the cells.

“This oaf is even heavier than he looks,” someone said.

“The Count said he was a big one,” another said.

Varg wanted to fight, but his pounded head kept his arms and legs limp. He should have known that after their little confrontation earlier that day the Count would have left men waiting in case he returned.

The guards stopped dragging Varg and dropped him back on the floor. They then stripped him of his cloak, bow, and quiver, then one of the guards tried to take his battleaxe from his back.

“What the—this thing is stuck!” the guard said.

“It's not stuck, it's heavy!” a second guard said. “No wonder we had so much trouble carrying him.”

Varg chuckled, for it was true that his mighty weapon couldn't be lifted so easily by a mere human.

“Just lock him up before the Count comes back. I want to go and watch the execution anyway,” another guard said.

Varg's heart became a little lighter with the hope that Milea may still be alive and even the slamming of the cell door didn't change it.

“I think he's still awake,” one of the guards said just as Varg began to regain his vision.

“Does it matter? The oaf is locked up and won't be getting out any time soon,” another guard said.

Varg groggily lifted his head and got on his hands and knees. “You'd better unlock this cell before I do it for you.”

The guards laughed, then one of them said, “I have the keys, you fool. How can you open the cell yourself?”

Varg regained his footing at last and stood up with a weary expression. “You asked for it.”

Just as Varg began to retain his full consciousness, he grabbed a cell bar in each bare hand and stared the guards down. Before their astonished eyes, the metal bars began to freeze steadily until they were covered in solid ice from ceiling to floor, then continued until all the cell bars were completely enveloped. The frozen metal shimmered in the dark, and he allowed the sight to sink into his audience briefly after he released his grip. Then with a flick of his index finger and thumb, the frozen metal cracked and shattered before him into a mess on the dungeon floor.

The guards stared in awe at this spectacle, but their eyes soon snapped into Varg's direction as soon as he took a step forward. Their legs became mobile again as they darted into the corridor just outside the dungeon. Instead of following them, Varg reached into the chest nearby to retrieve his equipment, along with the sword, bow, quiver, satchel, and cloak that he recognized as Milea's. He then rolled everything except her sword into the cloak, for he knew there was a high probability that she would need it.

Varg had just finished fastening the clasp of his cloak when he followed the corridor to the entrance hall, where the three guards stood with their weapons drawn. He approached them and laid a finger on the middle guard's sword. A thick layer of ice formed over the blade, and the guard panicked and dropped it, causing it to shatter on the ground.

The other two guards timidly lowered their weapons, at which point Varg asked, “would any of you be willing to point me in the direction of the execution site?”

Without a word, all three guards simultaneously pointed to the door to their left.

Varg smiled and said, “Thank you.” He then darted off to the door and left the frigid guards to process what they'd just witnessed.

 

Varg followed the direction in which the guards had pointed and with enough searching, he spotted the courtyard through a window down the corridor. Milea stood alive and well with her hands tied in front of her and a chopping block on the ground before her. The executioner stood behind her with his axe ready while the town priest performed last rites. Count Greenwood stood next to the priest with a smug expression that made Varg's blood boil. The only other people in attendance were a few servants and plenty of guards.

Varg found the door to the courtyard and tread outside without being noticed. Instead of watching the door, the guards huddled around the courtyard area to get a better view, so the hunter was able to slip past them without being noticed, and he found a vantage point where he would be able to get to Milea in a hurry, if need be. As the priest closed his speech, Milea looked up and spotted Varg. When he gave her a reassuring nod, she kept her expression neutral so as not to alert anyone, but gave a subtle nod to acknowledge his presence.

After the priest had stepped aside, Count Greenwood stepped forward and addressed the accused. “Any last words before we send your soul to the wretched realm from whence it came?”

Milea looked his straight in the eyes and said, “I'll see you there, pig.”

The Count gave her a disdainful look and said to the executioner, “Proceed.”

Varg's heart sank again as the executioner pushed Milea to her knees and then laid her forward onto the block, at which point he unfastened his battleaxe and charged forward. As the headsman's axe came down, Varg blocked its path with his own. The bloodied axe proved no match for his mighty weapon, and the iron head split right down the middle on impact. The half that broke off flew off to the side and the guards waiting there narrowly avoided the disaster that nearly followed.

“What is this?” the Count shouted.

Varg ignored him and helped Milea to her feet. As he untied her hand binds, he said, “You have nerve asking me why I would help the woman you framed for your crime.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Edric snapped.

“You know what I'm talking about,” Varg barked. “You set Milea up to take the fall for a murder that you committed.”

The crowd erupted into chaos at Varg's accusation. Edric's face darted back and forth, as if he truly were offended that he would say such things. The crowd shouted at Varg, at which point the Count knew he could get out of the situation easily by playing the victim.

“I have never been so insulted in my life! How dare you accused the Count of Rivershire of murder!” the Count bellowed. Edric
faced the small crowd of servants and guards when he spoke in an apparent effort to gain their support. “What did she offer you for your services, hunter? Gold? Fame? Perhaps something a little more . . . personal?”

Milea promptly spit at Edric's feet for his remark, but this only seemed to rile the crowd up more.

“Now you will pay,” Edric growled. “Guards, arrest them.”

The servants quickly cleared the courtyard as the guards armed their weapons and rushed towards Varg and Milea. Varg readied his battleaxe and took a defensive stance in front of his unarmed counterpart.

“Run,” Varg muttered to her.

“I will not abandon you after you saved my life,” she muttered back.

“There's no time to argue,” Varg urged. “Besides, I haven't saved your life yet.”

“I'm not leaving you.”

Varg gave her a quick glance, then tossed her sheathed sword to her and said, “Then be prepared to fight your way out of here.”

Milea caught the blade and removed it from it's sheath, then took an offensive stance beside Varg as the guards began to charge.

The first guard came at Varg with a spear, but he was no match. He first sliced through the feeble spear with ease, then knocked the guard across the face with the shaft of his axe. Two more guards came forward while the first was staggered. Varg performed a sideways swing to knock the first guard's blade aside, then he struck the other with his back swing. The first guard attempted to counter, only to be met with another swing of the battleaxe.

Two more men lunged at Varg with both blades drawn and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the first guard compose himself and try to attack his flank. He sliced through the armor of the left guard while grabbing his blade with his free hand. He then drove the guard's blade straight through the other guard's armor. Varg turned just in time to see Milea's blade land in the middle of a guard's chest.

Just then he heard Count Greenwood gasp in terror. “'What dark manner of sorcery is this?”

Varg turned around to face the Count, who stared in awe at the guard Varg had just slain. To everyone's astonishment, the guard's wound had frozen solid and the frost was spreading to the rest of his body. Before long, the guard was nothing more than a frozen husk. It was a spectacle that caused everyone in the courtyard to halt the battle and keep their eyes locked on the icy corpse.

Varg turned to the Count with a proud smile and said, “That was just one of Frost Fang's great abilities.”

“Frost Fang?” Edric dared to ask.

Varg held up his battleaxe. “She's Frost Fang.”

Edric stared at Varg with disdain and spat, “You actually
named
your weapon?”

“A true warrior's weapon names herself!” Varg boasted.

“Enough of this!” Edric shouted. “Bring me their heads!”

As more guards began to arrive in time to grant the Count's command, Varg realized that they were becoming severely outnumbered.

“Now would be a good time to run,” Varg muttered to Milea.

“I told you I won't leave you to fight alone,” Milea argued.

Varg turned to face her and said, “I meant for both of us.”

Milea could see that they were becoming outnumbered just as Varg could, so with a quick nod she said, “That would be best.”

They took the nearest opening in the line of guards they could find and ran for the exit. The guards tried to block their path, but they too were no match for Frost Fang. The only exit was back through the entrance hall, but when they entered, there were five guards waiting at the door.

“Did you happen to find the rest my equipment?” Milea asked.

“I have it here,” Varg said. He tossed her her rolled equipment.

The duo held off the approaching guards, but reinforcements began to pour into the hall from nearly every direction. Outnumbered and surrounded, Varg and Milea were forced to retreat into the corridor that led to the Count's chambers.

“I have a plan,” Varg said as he shoved the door open.

“Lead the way,” Milea said while trailing behind him.

Varg ran up the stairs and entered the Count's quarters, but not before grabbing a wardrobe and hurling against the door. The wood cracked and broke in several places when the wardrobe landed, but it still proved to be an effective barrier. The guards tried to shove their way into the quarters, but because of the enormous blockage, their efforts were in vain.

“That should buy us time,” Varg said.

The Count's bed chamber stood on a floor by itself. The interior was unsurprisingly well kept and fine in taste. At the far end, Varg found what he was looking for. The balcony he saw that morning stood on the opposite end of the room. The wooden doors stood slightly ajar and he could see the night sky, so he rushed forward and threw the doors open. The lake lay directly below the balcony, as Varg thought, but it was much farther from the balcony than he thought.

“We're trapped!” Milea cried.

Just then, a crash and the sound of splitting wood echoed from the floor below. It was evident that they only had precious seconds before facing the justice of Rivershire once and for all.

Milea faced Varg and said, “I hope you have a good plan.”

Varg placed an arm around Milea's shoulders, and said, “I've had better.”

Before Milea could say, “don't you dare”, Varg grabbed both of her shoulders and tossed her off of the balcony. The half-elf screamed and cursed his name as she fell from the balcony and splashed into the lake below. The door flew open and guards began pouring into the room, so Varg quickly hopped over the balcony and pushed off of the railing with his foot into the murky waters below.

Varg's body hit the surface of the water at full force and stung his skin like needles. Once he recovered from the initial impact, he opened his eyes under the surface to see Milea swimming to the opposite end. He emerged to catch his breath just as the half-elf stood in the shallows and waded to the shore.

Once he finally made it to shore, Varg approached Milea, who was ringing the water from her cloak, and said, “Well that went better than expected.”

Milea responded by landing a hard slap across Varg's cheek.

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled. “You could have killed me!”


Could
have,” Varg pointed out. “If we had stayed on the balcony, we definitely would have been killed or worse.”

Milea stared at him open-mouthed and responded, “You're a lunatic!”

Varg shrugged. “I've been called worse.”

“How did you even know I could swim?” Milea said.

Varg paused, then admitted, “I didn't.”

It was a response that earned yet another slap from Milea.

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