The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) (22 page)

“That is why I still live, I'm sure, for the King must approve an execution, and killing me themselves would raise suspicion since I was already seen by real guards. Nevertheless, I tried to argue my case and was silenced. Even if you could spot the steward, they will not believe a white haired barbarian who broke into the castle,” Greenwood argued. He then stared into space and added, “However . . .”

“However?” Varg repeated.

“It is a long shot, but if you were somehow able to get past the guards in the village and make it to the stable on the east side of the castle wall, my wife told me once of a secret passage in and out of the castle hidden in the stable. It leads to an area near the throne room, so perhaps you could meet the King himself and issue the warning, assuming he doesn't have you killed on the spot,” Greenwood explained.

Suddenly, a loud sound on Greenwood's end made the Count glance off to the side.

“Someone is coming! I must go!” he whispered urgently. The image then disappeared and the mirror was normal again.

Varg looked to his comrades for their reactions. “It sounds like our only chance.”

“It's suicide,” Tain muttered.

“That's right,” Oliva agreed. “Breaching the castle is punishable by death, Varg. It is a very dangerous gamble, but it's your decision. Whatever you choose, we'll honor it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tain retorted.

Varg ignored Tain's remark, but answered, “I'll go alone. I won't endanger the two of you based on a hunch.”

“Very well, but you will need this,” Oliva said. She held up another cloak similar to Tain's.

“Oh, right, your disguise spell,” Varg answered.

In response, Oliva read an incantation from her book and waved her hand over the cloth, and then handed it to Varg. “All you need to do it put it on. It should work in seconds.”

Varg unfastened his fur cape and handed it to Oliva, who then traded him the enchanted cloak. Varg tied the old cloak around his neck and pulled the hood over his head. Then he approached the mirror and waited for a reaction. Soon his hair, skin, and eyes became darker. In an instant, the man he saw staring back at him looked no different than any other drifter.

Once the transformation was complete, Oliva smiled and said, “Good, now you can walk outside without attracting attention.”

“Since you were strutting around like an oaf out in the open, the cultists are probably looking for you. I would keep my face in shadows if I were you,” Tain added.

“I'll do my best,” Varg muttered, his eyes still fixed on his reflection. Varg turned for the door, but not before he caught a glimpse of Frost Fang in the mirror. While normally the blade was light in color and made purely of metal, the blade now looked no different from an old iron battleaxe.

Oliva caught his reaction and explained, “I made the spell strong enough to alter your weapon since it's also well known by the cultists. The spell will break once you draw it though, so be sure to keep it sheathed until you absolutely need it. We'll stay here and watch for any signs of cultist activity.”

Varg nodded then made for the door again, but first he turned to the others again and said, “If I don't return alive, can you tell Milea something for me?”

“Sure, what is it?” Oliva asked.

“Tell her I'm sorry. She'll know what it means,” Varg asked. With that, he left the shack before either Tain or Oliva could question his request.

CHAPTER 20

VARG WALKED THROUGH the streets of Whistpire and to his relief, no one seemed to notice him. He made his way down the road towards where the Count claimed the stables were. Very few people remained outside, as it was quite late. Everything seemed quiet for now, but Varg still looked for signs of cultists just in case.
Still Varg kept his eyes sharp should the moment of truth arise. He scanned each corner of the street, but so far all he saw were a few drunks, travelers, and guards. Two guards were stationed at the front gate surrounding the castle directly ahead of him. His was about to take his attention off of them when he another guard coming from the castle.

The new guard approached one of the stationed guards. Varg initially assumed he was switching shifts, but the guard whispered something into the stationed guard's ear, then was answered by a quick nod. The new guard then retreated back to the castle and the stationed guard nodded to the other, then left his post. Varg made a quick decision to follow the guard, despite knowing where he needed to go. He walked casually so as not to alert his quarry, then followed him through an alley. The guard didn't seem to notice he was there, but Varg was still sure to keep a safe distance.

The guard stopped in the middle of the alley, which made Varg's heart sink. He was about to kick himself for not being more careful when a hooded traveler caught up with the guard. The two men stopped in the middle of the alley and began to hold a hushed conversation. Fortunately Varg was close enough to eavesdrop, so he leaned against the wall of the nearest building under a cloak of shadow and listened closely.

“Is everything ready?” the hooded traveler asked.

The guard nodded. “Yes, the royal family is in our custody. All that we need is the signal from the Serpent before we get rid of them.”

“Did they offer any resistance?”

“The King did, but once our other men wounded him, he learned his place. None of them dared to fight us after that.”

Varg began to fear that he may be too late. Not only were the royals captured, but now he knew that at least one of them was hurt. What's more, Jin couldn't be far behind, so there could only be precious moments before innocent lives were cut short in cold blood.

Varg left his hiding spot to run and warn Tain and Oliva, but he felt something tug his foot and lunge him forward. He stumbled onto the street and looked back to see that it was an old bucket that he tripped over that did the deed. Then he looked down the street and realized that the “guard” and hooded man were staring straight at him.

At first he figured he could play it off as though he were just a stumbling drunk, but he suddenly realized his hood had come off. The illusion had worn off and he caught a glimpse of his loose strands of hair turning white in the corner of his eye. His hands were pale again, as was the expressions of the cultists he unwittingly revealed himself to.

Varg froze in place and gulped. “Good evening.”

The two men darted off in the opposite direction. Varg cursed under his breath for his own stupidity and ran after them, but the disguised cultists darted out of sight quicker than Varg could round the corner. He knew chasing them would be pointless if he didn't know where they ran off to. He cursed under his breath and darted for the main street as fast as his legs could carry him. He knew that now that the cultists had been found out, he only had precious seconds before the battle would begin.

It wasn't until he finally made it back to the tavern that he saw dozens of cultists hop off of the roofs and catch passersby off guard. The cultists cut down everyone in their path who didn't have time to react, but fortunately a handful of travelers and citizens drew their weapons in time to defend themselves.

Varg first hatched a plan to get innocent townsfolk out of the way before it was too late. With his free hand, he banged on the front door of each home he passed and shouted, “Whitspire is under attack! Everyone get to safety!”

As the civilians came out of their homes to investigate, they were soon met with men in black hoods holding bloodthirsty blades up to them. Several people tried to retreat back inside, but to Varg's horror the cultists began to break into the houses and slaughter everyone inside. The rest of the civilians who ran for it barely got away in time for Varg to rush to their defense.

The half-blood jumped in front of a family and held Frost Fang in a defensive position as three cultists charged towards him. Before they reached him, he swung his axe and easily dispatched the first foe, and the second fell after Varg countered his attack. The third almost reached the family, but Varg caught him by the back of his collar and tossed him onto the street. Varg then charged forward and dropped the tip of his axe through his downed opponent's chest. The wound froze and covered the cultists entire body until he was nothing more than a frozen husk.

The family managed to escape out of harms way, if one could call running into an empty alley safe, when another set of cultists ran Varg's way. Before they made contact with his axe, however, one of the cultists was met with a sharp jolt of lightning and the other was tossed into the air by a whip made of solid water. Varg swung as the cultist fell to the ground and his axe sliced through his ribcage in midair.

Oliva and Tain readied for another attack as they ran to Varg's side.

“We heard the commotion and figured something happened!” Oliva said to Varg just as she fired another lightning bolt at an oncoming cultist.

Varg saw the petrified civilians trying to run from the looming bloodshed that was once known as Whistpire, then said, “We need to get these people to safety!”

Oliva nodded. “I may not be able to fight much, but I know a way I can help. I know a shield spell and if I can pull it off, I should be able to protect all of the women and children.” She then turned and yelled into the crowd, “All those who cannot fight, follow me!”

Varg and Tain covered Oliva as she gathered the unarmed civilians of Whitspire and led them to the edge of town into an old warehouse. Once they were sure she and the crowd of women and children would be safe, the two men returned to the town to aid the men and women who stayed behind to defend their homes. Though the people of Whitspire were bold and adept in battle, dozens of them fell by the second. Varg joined into the fray to aid them, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold off the cultists until help arrived.

Just when all seemed lost, a horn sounded over the horizon. Varg had slain the last of his enemies when he turned to see none other than an army of dwarves charging into the town. His heavy heart leaped at this sight, for now they stood a chance. Though they now had an army aiding them, it seemed that more and more cultists spawned by the second.

Varg quickly searched the crowd for familiar faces. He found Conley and Tollack near the entrance of Whitspire, and as Varg parried an attack from another cultist, he saw a quick flash of dark green on the ground. Erril brought her knife around the ankles of the cultist Varg fought and sliced the back of his heels. As the cultist fell to the ground, Erril then drove her dagger into his throat.

The girl looked to Varg only briefly before running off and said, “You're welcome.”

Varg would have laughed, but he was met with yet another foe. He swung high and brought Frost Fang downward, but the tricky cultist dodged to the side and attempted a counter attack. With no way to move in time due to his slow swing, Varg's side was left vulnerable to the cultist's blade. A single arrow changed Varg's fate in the form of the cultist's punctured jugular. The arrow that killed his foe was all too familiar to Varg, and with a smile he turned to the shooter.

Milea stood her ground on the roof of a shop as she loosed another arrow into a cultist who tried to climb up to her position. Varg rushed to the shop and used Frost Fang as a pole vault to land on a pile of crates next to the building, then quickly hopped onto the roof to meet her from there.

As Varg rushed by Milea's side, he blocked an attack from another arrow and shouted, “Glad to see you made it!”

“Do you question my battle prowess?” Milea mused as another one of her arrows struck a disoriented cultist.

“Only if you question mine,” Varg assured.

“Did you come to chat or do you have a reason to speak to me in the middle of the fiercest battle I've ever seen?” Milea asked.

Varg swung Frost Fang again and flung a now dying cultist off of the roof. “I need to get to the stables to find a hidden entrance into the castle. I could use an extra blade.”

“Or a bow?” Milea said with a smirk. She then loosed another arrow and brought her blade to the throat of another cultist who tried to attack Varg's flank. “You lead the way and I'll cover you.”

“All right, let's go,” Varg replied.

Varg hopped onto the next roof and fought the enemies in the front while Milea offered support and protection for his flank. He could see the stables from his position, which was stationed against the wall just before the drawbridge. Though the battle in the streets was downright bloody, Varg decided he could easily clear a path on the rooftops, so he continued to hop along until he made it to the wall that surrounded the castle moat.

Varg jumped to the ground from the last roof and charged for the stables with Milea behind him. Fortunately, it seemed that everyone else was too preoccupied to notice what they were up to, so they were easily able to sneak behind the bales of hay and search for any kind of entrance. Just when Varg thought Greenwood had lied to him, he accidentally kicked an old cloth on the ground with his boot and discovered a small trap door.

Varg fiddled with the old iron handle and pulled the door up to discover a set of stairs. Then he heaved a sigh of relief and said, “This is it, all right. Now all we have to do is—”

Varg was interrupted when he turned to face Milea and was met with her lips. Without a single protest he embraced her and returned her kiss. His body pressed against hers against a bale of hay and Milea moaned before breaking away.

“I apologize, but I needed one more before we entered,” Milea whispered.

“Since when is stealing a kiss from me a crime,” Varg asked.

“When there are lives at stake,” Milea answered.

“Good point,” Varg said.

Varg and Milea climbed down the trap door and discovered a dark, damp tunnel. They carried on in the dark as the path dipped lower underground, no doubt to lead under the moat, and then up again until they finally found an opening at the end. When Varg pushed the door open, he found a dark chamber that appeared to be one of the castle corridors. The door he opened was in fact hidden as part of the wall behind a tapestry. When he emerged into the corridor, Varg held the rich cloth out of Milea's way until she passed, then allowed it to fall back into place.

Varg looked left and right down the corridor, then marched to the left and said, “Now let's find the royal family before we have any further interruptions.”

When Varg rounded the corner, however, he collided with someone. He was about to draw Frost Fang when he recognized Count Greenwood in the dark.”

“Oh good Lord,” Greenwood nearly shouted. “I was about to get outside to find you.”

“How did you escape?” Varg asked.

“Escape? What's going on?” Milea asked.

Varg gave the short explanation of why Count Greenwood had been imprisoned to Milea.

The Count seemed exhausted, but still said in a calm voice, “The guards and the cultists in disguise were far too preoccupied with the battle outside and the capture of the royal family that they didn't realize that they'd left the dungeon key on a table right next to my cell. I was able to reach it and unlock my cell and make my escape.”

“Where is the royal family?” Milea asked.

“They are trapped in the throne room with the cultists. It's just a short walk that way,” Greenwood explained.

Varg and Milea began to walk in the direction the Count mentioned, when out of the corner of his eye Varg saw the Count turn to the exit. He immediately turned around and spat, “Where do you think you're going?”

The Count froze, then turned and said, “I'm no use to you in battle. I would only get in the way. I'll just wait outside and—”

“Run before you can pay for your crimes?” Varg answered.

The Count sighed. “Varg, there are far more important things to worry about.”

“You made sure of that, didn't you? You knew we would be too preoccupied with innocent lives to protect to pursue you. Now you have the perfect opportunity to escape justice and get rid of the only thing that stands in your way in the process. You cowardly, wretched, piece of
tripe
,” Varg spat.

“Varg, forget him. We have more important things to worry about,” Milea urged.

Varg ignored her, but still said, “You win this time Greenwood, but I promise that when this is over, I
will
hunt you down and kill you myself.”

To Varg's ire, the Count smiled and said, “Let the game begin.” The Count then darted to the stable entrance and disappeared from sight.

Varg turned to head down the corridor, at which point Milea joined him and said, “It's all right, we'll find him.”