"Lady Erinne?" Erinne looked up from her daughter's face at the sound of the voice. She'd been sitting here for hours, just holding her, watching her, tears in her eyes as she desperately wished to see Cold Hammer holding this precious, small bundle in his arms. She wanted to see him smile down at her with warmth in his eyes, the kind of fatherly warmth she'd only seen on his face in tender moments with Andol. She wanted her mate and her son to share in this moment with her, watching the newest member of their family sleep.
She didn't know that the world was fraught with danger and hardship, she didn't know that her father and brother might be dead. All she knew was this sweet, gentle sleep, in Erinne's arms.
One of Wren's guards was standing in the doorway, peering in at her. Despite her promise to continue only one hour more, Erinne had searched with Wren until nightfall. He'd damn near forced her to return to the castle, but he'd stayed. He'd stayed out all night and when dawn came, he wasn't back yet, so Khash left to find him.
The guard coming in had to have a reason.
"Is there news?" She asked, sitting up straighter in the chair she was occupying.
His face tightened and concern flitted through her, his voice strained as he spoke, "King Wren asks that you come downstairs."
His mannerisms were making her nervous and she felt her throat closing a little, her chest constricting. "What's wrong?" She asked but he didn't speak, keeping his eyes cast towards the floor. She didn't think Wren would bring her out of the privacy of her room just to tell her he'd found her husband and son dead, however, so she mustered up the courage to nod. "Okay, I'm coming."
"Milady," he dipped his head respectfully and moved to stand farther outside the room but he waited.
She felt like her heart was shaking inside her chest with the fear that coursed through her and she waved to the young servant Wren had sent to stay with her, the only one that had cared enough to play with her son. Myre was young, but her experience was good and she passed her daughter into her waiting arms gently. She was ever thankful for the young woman's kindness.
"Please, do not take her from this room." She was terrified that someone would hurt her for being half blooded now. The shouts of the mob yelling abomination still rang through her mind each time she closed her eyes, even if it was only a blink.
"I've got her, milady." Myre took the baby and patted Erinne's arm. "I pray for you, milady, I hope you know that."
"Thank you." Erinne returned the gesture and walked to the door until the sudden fear that her family was dead stopped her in her tracks, making it feel as though the floor rolled beneath her feet. She couldn't just stand here, frozen, and waiting. She needed to know. Whatever news Wren had for her, she had to know.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and then strode forward and out the door. "Lead the way." She tipped her head to the guard and he didn't hesitate, moving with haste and she knew something was wrong. She felt it in her soul. His movements were too rigid, his eyes darting back at her with too much concern.
She didn't say anything and she tried not to think about what waited for her downstairs, but each step drove into her mind the hard point that her family might not be coming back. As she neared the end of the long staircase that led into the main hall, she found Wren with several of his guards, gathered in a loose circle. Wren had one arm crossed over his chest, and the other propped his chin up.
He didn't move, he didn't look her way, and that concerned her all the more. With his senses, she knew he was aware of her arrival. As she made her last step, her heart quickened it's pace. The guards were turning to look at her, their body language as tight and stiff as the man that had retrieved her from her room.
"What's happened?" She called before she even reached them, anxiety making her words leap out of her throat. "Something is wrong, please, just tell me."
Wren sighed heavily and finally turned his eyes towards her and she took a step back. They were yellow, like the beast's. His eyes weren't blue at all right now. Her hand went to her heart and she stared at him for a long moment before she hesitantly spoke his name, "Wren?"
He was still. Like an animal that had been spotted by a predator, except for his eyebrows slowly pulling together as he stared at her. "Come with me." His voice grated out of his chest like it was hard for him to speak. Then he held out his hand and she grabbed onto it like a lifeline and stepped closer.
"What happened, Wren?" She plead quietly, tears in her eyes. He didn't answer but his hand locked around hers and he led her towards the doors. "Wren? Please, are they dead?" Her voice broke on the last word and Wren stopped with one hand on the door, looking at her over his shoulder, but when he spoke, it wasn't a word, but more of a strangled growl and he looked distraut by that.
One of the guards moved closer and set his hand on her shoulder, "The king sometimes finds it difficult to speak after a night...in the forest."
He meant a night as the Beast. Wren had used his curse throughout the night to search for her family. Years ago when she'd first witnessed his curse, she didn't recall speaking to him at all until after dawn came. Maybe he'd been unable to, even back then. She swallowed and took a hold of the guard's arm with her free hand, "Did he find my family?"
The guard, blessedly, took pity on her, his eyes softening. "Milady, we found one of your direwolves, the poor animal...she didn't make it."
Erinne clutched her heart and grief lashed her chest. "Only one?"
"Only one." He nodded.
Who? She wanted to ask them but she couldn't find the words. Larken was a deep gray while Willow had lighter fur with patches of brown. They could tell her colors and she'd know, but she couldn't quite get the words out of her mouth. There was a lump in her throat and she fought against it. If they'd only found one of the pups, then the other was out there somewhere, still protecting her family.
But one of the pups...one of her sweet, beautiful direwolf pups. Memories danced in her head of the day Larken and Willow came home. Rascals. From the very start. Until Larken begin clinging to her, choosing her as her master. Erinne had never felt like a master to them. She felt like a part of them, a companion to them, part of the pack. Many great warriors never shed a single tear for the friends they lost in battle, but they did for their direwolves.
"Where?" She finally got a single word to rush past her lips. The guard motioned after Wren and his hand tightened on hers and she finally followed him out the door. They traversed the stairs and she felt numb thinking about the blood stains on the steps. That was her blood. This had all started right here in this courtyard.
She shot a glare at Wren's back as another thought crossed her mind. This hadn't started here. This had started with Wren forcing her to return. Her family should have never been here. She shouldn't have been here either. Her daughter wasn't meant to be born here, under threat. She felt the coils of anger weaving through her as they strode past the courtyard and the stables, onwards towards the woods her son was lost in.
As they neared the edge of the woods, the guard spoke again, "She's just inside the forest, just out of sight. We didn't want anyone to disturb her while we went inside to retrieve you."
"You brought her here?"
"We did."
Erinne felt the first hint of a tear rolling down her face and was trying to take a shaky breath when she spotted the body, deeper in. The lighter gray and brown fur stood out to her and she felt her knees go wobbly as she broke out of Wren's grip and raced forward. She sprinted to her side, but as she neared, the smell of death filled her nostrils and she slowed. The pup had been gone for a long time now, long enough to begin decaying. That hit her harder than she would have thought, but still, Erinne sank to her knees next to her and sank her hands into the fur.
"Oh Willow," the tears broke through completely and freefell down her face, "oh, my good girl." She stroked her ear gently, days flashing through her mind of this sweet pup tackling her son while he laughed. How many times she'd watched them play in the creek, watched her wrestle Larken until Larken returned to Erinne's side and watched, steadfast and strong while Willow went back to Andol, his best friend and truest protector. She never left his side, not for a second. Willow's presence here now was frightening.
There was blood everywhere, dried and dark. It coated her muzzle, clung to her tongue which lolled stiffly out the side of her mouth. Her paws had blood and some of her fur was matted with it. There were slashes on her side, a stab wound by her hip, and the killing blow, a stab wound that went straight through her shoulder in a downward thrust, probably done from someone on horseback. Judging by the amount of blood, the sword had gone straight down through her lungs and probably her heart. It was a noble death for a dire wolf, Willow had well earned her place amongst the ancestors, but it did nothing to appease the grief in Erinne's heart and the greater fear for her son. Dire wolves didn't leave their masters except in death. Willow had fought for Andol to the end, but if they'd had to fight...her son must've been present for such a battle.
"Tell me where you found her." Her words were stronger than she thought herself capable of being right now. "She would've fought to the death for Cold Hammer and Andol both. She must've been with them." Wren's silence scared her, the guards' body language disturbed her. There was more than this and she needed to know. She turned her head, ready to confront them, only to see a guard handing something to Wren. He twisted back to her, a few pieces of scrap linen that she would recognize anywhere.
His eyes were green now, but his voice was still tight as he spoke, "We found this near her. It was a battlefield, Erinne. Blood littered the ground everywhere we stepped."
"That's Andol's." She reached for the cloth, wrapping her fingers in it but there was a trace of blood on it. "She died protecting my son."
"Several humans died with her." One of the guardsmen said.
She clutched the piece of cloth to her chest and looked up at Wren, "Tell me this isn't his blood."
Wren's lips twitched, "I cannot tell you that." He pressed his lips together in a tight line and she started to cry until the guard spoke again.
"Milady, there is one more thing. We found this." He motioned to another soldier and the man produced a weapon. She was surprised she hadn't seen it beforehand, but maybe they'd been hiding it on purpose. Saving it for last because they'd somehow known this would be the final blow that broke her.
The mighty war hammer was covered in blood, but more frightening was the bloody handprint that was orc sized on the hilt. An ominous omen, suggesting that whatever orc had held it had been greatly injured. "No..." She shook her head and looked at Wren. Cold Hammer would have never left that hammer without it being pried from his dead body. "No." She said more firmly. "No, where's his body? He wouldn't have just left that. Where is he?!" She shoved to her feet, glaring at Wren before she snatched the hammer from the guard. It was heavier than she remembered but maybe it was just because it carried the weight of her soul right now, wrapped up inside of it, ready to drop on her head and wash her in grief. "Where is he, Wren?!" Her voice rose to a high pitched shriek.
"Erinne,"
"Where is he?!"
His eyes were going golden again and he looked to his guardsmen for help and the man spoke, "There were drag marks by the river, milady. We think... Their blood leads to it. We think they might've drowned them. Or at the very least thrown them in after they kil..."
"Their blood?!" She felt the world constricting around her, choking her. "Andol?" Them. He said them. Her son and her mate. And what of Larken? She'd been out there, too. With her son. With her husband. With everything she held most dear in this life. "No." She couldn't...they couldn't...this wasn't happening. This wasn't her life. This wasn't what the ancestors had told her...except maybe it was. They'd told her she'd lose her son, and they'd told Cold Hammer he would leave everything he knew to make everything right.
This wasn't right, though. Was being dead the leaving they'd mentioned? It couldn't be! It couldn't be! They weren't dead. Larken wasn't dead. Willow wasn't dead. Her son...
"Erinne,"
Erinne screamed until her throat was raw.
Message From The Author: I know this is a hard ending to a hard chapter, so I wanted to leave a message here for my readers. Thank you so much for sticking with me through Erinne's journey. There is still much of the story to tell, they have a beast to hunt and stop, they have a war to fight. And Erinne still has a way to commune with the Ancestors, and anyone on the other side with them. This tale will cover most of Erinne's life, and when its all done I may separate it into multiple books instead of one long book. We shall see.
That's all for now. I hope you continue to stick with me until this story is finished! I thrive on your support!
***Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! There will be a new chapter posted every Monday! Stay tuned for more Rise of the Warrior of Everfen***