Chapter 13
A heavy lining of trees fell away from the road and the mid-morning revealed smoke drifting into the air from a few smoldering places. A quiet scene over this small village. Every building was razed, even those of stone. Their cornerstones lay far from the foundations.
Another village’s remains were a few minutes up the road. Hantle spent no time looking for any living or dead. The thought of how many towns he would find pushed him onward. The warmth of the sun didn’t match the coldness of the dead towns. Columns of smoke in the distance could be indicative of life or death. He shuddered.
Hantle reached the third town, which was also destroyed and filled with more rubble from larger buildings. Claw marks cut across the road and left cobblestones strewn about. He looked around and noticed the midday air felt oddly empty without bid calls. How many more of these ruins would he discover?
As he rounded a pile of stones and wood, Hantle found himself looking at a man in uniform. He shouted in surprise, “Hey hey”, and backed up several steps as he fumbled for his musket.
The other man started as well and drew a holstered pistol. “Well, shit.”
They both stood shocked until the uniformed man’s senses caught up and he called out behind him. “Lieutenant Vurm. I got someone here.”
Hantle let out a deep breath and removed his hands from the musket. “I was not expecting to see anyone here.”
A living being in all this wreckage? Hantle thought. How sure could he be this wasn’t another vision?
The soldier replied, “Neither were we.” He adjusted the kepi he wore and scratched under the brim.
The man who must have been Vurm picked his way around other piles of rubble. He also wore a kepi. This atop a mess of brown hair which was tied back with a leather band. Hantle noticed Vurm’s eyes narrow and jaw tighten.
“I am Lieutenant Vurm. You are?”
“Hantle Doolsun…”
Vurm continued on so quickly Hantle doubted the man even heard Hantle’s name.
“Where are the other survivors?” he asked.
Hantle shook his head and raised his hands to indicate uncertainty. “I’ve only just come into town. Alone. What do you know of what happened?”
Vurm removed the kepi and tugged at the neck of his uniform jacket. “My squad and I were sent to investigate rumors of disaster. You’re the first person we’ve encountered.” Brass buttons ran in a single line down his front and the wool looked too warm for this weather.
Hantle nodded and looked around the town. Several other troops walked through the area, scanning the debris. “May I ask,” he said, “who sent you?”
“Gully Rhet, Mayor of Harsenth.” Vurm turned to shout to a woman off to his side. “Any survivors your way?” She only shook her head.
Hantle felt a rush of excitement. He had stumbled into an armed force. One that he might coordinate tonight to stand against the wolf. What vindication for pressing through the exhaustion and hunger and miles to get here.
Vurm turned back to Hantle as he placed the kepi on his head again. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Hantle shook his head. “Not at all.”
“It’s suspicious you’re the only person here.” He waved an arm to indicate the wasted town. “Say you’ve just come in, have you? Where from?”
Hantle straightened his back and cleared his throat. He wanted to come across as forthright. “I spent all of the last day and a half walking from Founsel, on the Trasach Cove.”
“Why so far a distance in so short a time?”
Hantle told the Lieutenant of the wolf destroying his home, family, and town. How it grew with every person it ate. As additional proof, he raised his arm as evidence. It was riddled with healing puncture wounds. The skin stretched taut around the injuries and Hantle winced.
“I’m certain,” he continued, “the wolf was here as well. Last night. Two two towns just west of here have also been taken.”
The other troop, the soldier he’d first encountered, asked, “If the wolf can lay entire cities flat, how did you survive?”
“Pure luck. But I have chased it hoping to stop it from taking more lives.”
Vurm shook his head. “You want us to believe a wolf is responsible for this?”
Hantle laughed, “Believe what you want. I’m telling you what I’ve seen. You’re welcome to go on and see the death for yourself. Same death as here.”
Vurm’s eyes focused on the distance. Hantle turned and saw the plumes of smoke standing dark against the sunlight.
Hantle turned back with another question. “I’m eager to speak to the Mayor. Harsenth is just up the road?”
Vurm said, “We have more investigation to do before we can return.”
“And I’ll be happy to leave you to it.” Hantle gave a quick nod and started to move around Vurm. But the Lieutenant put his arm to Hantle’s chest.
“I’m sorry, but we must escort you back.” Vurm looked over and the other troop stepped forward with his chest thrust out.
The physical contact surprised Hantle and he didn’t like the implication. “Am I being held here?”
“Being held? No. We just ask that you give us a few minutes before we show you on to town.”
Hantle knew the impression he made here would be pivotal to securing help from Harsenth. He yielded. “Of course. I would be grateful for your guidance.”
Vurm rounded up a few more troops. “We were tasked to bring back evidence, if we found anything had happened. What could carry more surety than the corner stone of the town hall?” He pointed to the stone in the middle of the road. One of its corners had fractured. “You two, make a stretcher to bear the stone back.”
Hantle stood quietly as the soldiers found materials and prepared the stretcher. It felt nice to stand still for a time.
Vurm ordered the rest of the troops to attention.
Within a few moments, the stretcher was complete and those soldiers fell back in formation.
Vurm called the march. They began eastward to Harsenth. Vurm took up the rear, with Hantle before him. Ahead of Hantle was the strongest soldier in the squad, a tall, muscled woman, who hauled the corner stone on the improvised stretcher.
Hantle looked about him as they walked. To his left was the stables. The barn was in pieces as was the fence. But Hantle noticed something in the mud.
“Ahh, Lieutenant?” Hantle said. “Do you see the mark in the mud of the stable yard?”
Vurm called for the squad to halt. “What mark?”
“It’s a large depression, closest to us. May I inspect it?”
Vurm waved Hantle on.
Hantle stooped down as he neared it and was thankful for this sign. “It seems the wolf left a print.” He looked up to the Lieutenant and beckoned him over.
“That’s the size of my chest. It’s no wolf print.”
“Except this wolf is larger now than any other, with all the flesh he’s consumed.” Hantle pointed out the four pads and claws that sank a foot into the mud.
Vurm stood quietly and considered the print’s shape and the size. “I wrote you off as demented, but maybe there is something to your story. If anything, it’s a hell of a report.”
The Lieutenant called out again, “March.”