Not All Heroes Are Guiltless

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The sun is completely gone on the worst day of my entire life. I still have a death grip on the soft jet-black fur. All my tears have been wiped off my face by the passing wind.

The forest is so dark, and I can’t see where he is taking me. He doesn’t falter in his movement, though, as he brushes past trees wider than eight men across.

He deliberately lays down and pushes me off his back so quickly I have to make sure my feet land on the ground. I kick up some dust, and I go to brush it off my clothes when the giant wolf head pushes me into a small crevice. The smell of musky damp mold makes me want to cough. I try to move back out, but he growls lowly. Glaring at me with a silent order.

The image of a dog commanding his master makes me laugh. I realized it's probably best to follow his commands because I can’t see anything anyway. Showing my resentment of being ordered, I do cross my arms. He grunts and walks away from the entrance. I sit down in the dark damp cavern and wait for him to return.

After a few minutes, my eyes start to be able to adjust to the limited light a bit. I noticed there is moonlight being reflected against the moist walls. Allowing me to at least see around me. I start playing in the dirt while reflecting on the events of the day when I recognize that in front of me is an old stone ring with remnants of wood charcoal chips.

I explored deeper into the cavern, and underneath a thick animal fur, I found two cloaks, a pair of trousers, a shirt, and shoes along with a set of swords. Only a flagon of mead or poor man’s wine, nothing else to eat. I discovered a pouch with a flint and steel and chuckle. My abductor was prepared, or he knew he would need shelter after an escape.

Realization hits me hard at that notion. Because, even before he was assigned to his station to travel with the Bellarn army, he had to have this cavern already prepared for the fallout. We are so deep in the dense forest that I don’t think even the lupines have come this far in. He brought us so far that we shouldn’t have any fear the Hou Ndour could follow us. Sadly, there are other dangers in this forest, but nothing more ferocious than an enormous wolf.

Wretchedly, he did play me and everyone else in Redland really well. He allowed Hou Ndour to sneak in their greatest warriors, giants. He fed bad intel into our decisions, and then he even had a getaway planned. I huffed in frustration that I haven’t been able to find more answers. I find a dry tree branch and break it down into smaller pieces. I could definitely use some light in this dark cave. I place them into the stone ring and use some dead leaves among them.

I strike the flint, and a spark is formed. I blow on the flared leaves, but it smokes out without spreading to the wood. I see the wolf crawl in the small crevice of an entrance and place a young dead hog next to the stone ring. He transforms into his human form and walks to the corner, and grabs the clothes.

Ignoring his nakedness, I strike the flint again and try to blow on the leaves quickly. It smokes and then loses its glow before it can catch. I strike again, and when I attempt to blow, a rush of force pushes my hair into my face, and the fire comes alive.

Annoyed at being blasted by magic without warning, I glance at the man now tying his boots. I speak up in a sing-song tone, “Thanks for the help. Do you want me to prepare the pig?”

“Nah, you look like you haven’t slept in several days.” He says, pulling a small dagger from the supplies. He grabs a long metal stick, and after skinning the pig, he spears the pig down the middle and then balances the rod on two rocks, holding the pig over the fire. He does everything with an expertise, which I hate to say I admire.

He sits down and watches the blaze, and the light strikes his hazel eyes, and I can see the resemblance between him and his mother so much now. I chew on my lips, knowing how much each of them hates each other, and I can’t even imagine how that came to the past. He grabs a branch and leans back with the dagger in hand and starts to dwindle on the wood, almost like he’s lost in his own thoughts also. I have so many questions for him, but I don’t even know how to start.

“Thank you for the rescue.” My internal debate finally agreed, and he doesn’t even budge to acknowledge my gratitude. I cough and then lick my lips, “You have amazing control over your monster. Do you understand its words?”

His gaze meets mine, and it's filled with sorrow and pity, “I’m not the one to teach you about your blessings as long as you have that ridiculous collar on. Take it off, and you will be able to understand your wolf. It's wiser than you could imagine.”

My hand reaches my neck where the collar rests. I think soundly and then turn to meet his gaze, “This collar protects me from the madness. Not everyone is as strong fortitude of mind as you.”

“Protection? That collar is the reason you nearly got crushed under the foot of a giant.” he says with a hearty laugh. “You say it protects you from madness, but what is maddening is it helps you deny a part of yourself.”

I stare at him while he speaks without even an ounce of emotion outside of the laughter. He just goes back to playing with the twig and watching the roasting pig. He doesn’t even look my way, and I’m not even sure why his disinterest infuriates me.

“Who are you?” I growl out impatiently.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, I watch him rotate the pig, and the juices drip into the fire, making my mouth water. He sits back down, obviously ignoring my question. I cross my arms over my knees and watch the flames, and mediate through my irate mood.

Sleep nudges at me as the pig gets closer to being fully roasted. I can barely keep my head up, but the fear of my lonely mountain peak is almost too much to bear. The turmoil of the day is already draining me, I'd rather not continue in my dreams. Yet I hold back asking questions because he is being selective of what he does answer. I lean back and find a nook to lay my head.

So much has happened today. I learned a secret about my aunt, and I’ve lost my country. My rescuer knew preemptively the attack was coming, and he’s not even from the country who controls the giants.

Aunt Lana’s conversation replays in my memory, she referred to him as the shadow. Could he be Bellar’s Shadow Assassin?