Chapter Two
The jocular mood of minutes earlier had vanished, replaced by intense focus and bristling anger. Col had explained as quickly as he could. Someone, probably Miller, had turned down the volume so the strains of Sabaton’s “Resist and Bite” faded to background noise. Barric had protested, enjoying the Swedish power metal band’s songs of battle and courage under fire.
But he grudgingly relented, with a look from Miller.
Miller Armstrong was already in the sixth decade of a short, human lifespan, but theBredhrenhad a great deal of respect for the retiredWaryeor.They shared his core belief that once aWaryeor,always aWaryeor. He stood about an inch over 6 feet, but while shorter in stature than the fiveBredhren, none of whom stood shorter than 6 ft 4 inches, his military carriage and quiet air of authority carried through. Although Simon was there when they had awakened, Miller was the one who effectively brought them into the 21st century, introducing them to the implements of modern warfare, the advances in hand to hand combat drawn from other cultures, and even instilling them with the group discipline they had sorely lacked.
This was one of the few things that theBredhrenagreed on.
They hadn’t been aWar-Packprior to their thousand-year slumber. They had been the eliteWaryeorsof their respective armies and units, forced together by circumstance to becomeBredhren. Or at least they would be, once they were bonded in battle.
They hadn’t even shared a dialect or customs, but the same ability to talk telepathically in wolf form allowed them to quickly pick up a common language in human form. At least enough to communicate, however rudimentary it might be. They spoke in a mishmash of what they had learned from the nearby Medieval Re-enactment Faire’s “olden days” lingo, Youtube videos, and reality show TV.
They knew that Simon, the human who was charged with their well-being, despaired at what they did—or didn’t— pick up. Something called “nuance” that to aWaryeorhad never been a priority. Except it was important to Miller too, so they did their best to smooth over their rough edges.
Col looked around the backyard space, hisBredhrenall wearing the same type of t-shirts and cargo shorts that Miller wore. He had supplied them, along with the other clothes in their closets. Beside them, Simon stood apart, the only one that didn’t have the training – or the physique, or the physical reflexes - to be aWaryeor. He was almost as tall as Miller, but where Miller was still in prime condition to fight, Simon was younger, lankier, and stood with his shoulders almost perpetually pinched upwards, his thick framed glasses constantly needing to be pushed back up, a dark brown lock of hair always flopping onto his forehead.
Unlike the others, his t-shirt had an image on it. It was an image of a dragon, with the words “Got Dice?” underneath. Simon was a warrior in what he called “Table Top,” and he had his ownBredhrenthat he met up with once a week.
Col had just finished recounting what had happened, and Barric was of course the first to say something cutting.
“You were rendered unconscious by two males who were notWaryeors?” Barric’s contempt showed in the curl of his upper lip.
Col stiffened, feeling a surge of anger – at himself. Barric was right. He did not understand what had happened to him. He’d been struck on the head many times in battle – it had never even slowed him down. His skull was thicker than a rock. And there was no indication that they had hit him on the head.
“At least they were not two pox-ridden doxies who lured him with their feminine wiles.” Aylwyn smirked at Barric. Barric responded with a snarl and a modern gesture that involved only one finger.
“Either way, we must needs shift quickly and savage the two who would dare threaten aWaryeor,” Merek snarled, ready to spring into action. Barric growled in agreement, always eager to shed some blood.
“Alpha, what are your orders?” Miller’s quiet voice cut through, reminding them to acknowledge theirVixar, or leader. They all turned to the one who seemed unlikely as Alpha of a pack of trained killers, with his fine cheekbones, sensuous lips and handsome visage. Tybalt nodded at Miller and spoke.
“Col was correct in making his escape and coming back to inform us immediately.” Col held his head up high, feeling Barric bristling. Barric thought that Col should have stayed behind and done battle – but Col didn’t know what he was fighting against, and he believed that his most pressing task was to inform hisBredhrenof what he’d encountered. Especially if he were correct that the man with the knife had been speaking the Ancient Tongue.
TheVixarcontinued.
“Barric and Aylwynn, shift and go scout for any signs of the two who abducted Col. You are only to scout and not engage. We don’t know how they were able to incapacitate Col. Merek, shift to wolf form so you can stay in contact with Barric.”
Merek grunted an assent and shifted, an enormous black wolf in his place. Barric was the only one so far who was able to send and receive messages consistently, until theirWar-Packsolidified. Ironic, as Barric was the one most resistant to the group coming together, especially with Tybalt asVixar.
Barric and Aylwyn shifted as well, a wave of energy that surged out, Simon and Miller bracing themselves from the impact. In Barric’s place stood a giant wolf with brown and white markings that exuded danger, and Aylwyn’s wolf had a silvery coat, that posed no less a threat. They were the size of black bears, their paws lethal maces tipped with razor sharp claws. Their powerful legs propelled them into the woods, in the direction where Col had emerged.
Simon pushed his glasses back. “There’s a human out there—two—who know of Col’s existence. They’re probably already gone, and unlikely to report what they’ve seen given that they’d have to admit to the kidnapping and possibly trespassing.”
Tybalt nodded. “Those words hold much merit, young Simon.”
“And if they are connected with The Dark Warlord?” Col asked.
“Well, if it’s him, then it’s best not to let them know how many of you there are, or even to confirm that Col is aWaryeor,” Simon concluded.
“It would be wise to prepare for the eventuality that they are connected,” Miller said. Tybalt nodded in agreement.
Col watched theVixarcarefully, as a good Second should. He respected the chain of command too well to question the leader, but he shared the concern that despite all the drills, all the time Miller had spent with them, perhaps they weren’t ready. They knew so little of this new world.
The Dark Warlord was destined to awake in the same year as them. But what if their enemy had been awakened many months ago, and had adapted much better? And now, with Col’s senses going awry….
As if theVixarpicked up on his thoughts, even though they were not in wolf form, he spoke softly to Col. “Trust in She, in Whose Name we fight.”
Col took a deep breath. Let it out.
