The Northern Enigma - 2

“A new spring, a new expedition by ship,” Falco grumbled.
He was staring at the collection of sea-going drakes that was anchored in the harbor of Griffnar. Two military drakes, filled with Varangian Guards, one passenger drake for the jarl and his retinue, one passenger drake for Lady Pumori and her retinue and two cargo drakes. That was the entire fleet that would sail over the Lar canal to the Great Fjord and from there, hugging the coast line, to Grimkeep. Not a particularly long journey, two or three days. Four if the wind was unfavorable.
“It’s not the same as last time, my love,” Anya replied. “Fewer ships, shorter journey, different goals.”
“True. Still, it gives me a feeling of déjà-vu.”
“Yeah, maybe a bit,” Anya said, rather absent mindedly. “She glanced over her shoulder, where she could see the tall towers of the Adlerburg, peeking over the roofs of the warehouses and guild houses of the harbor. Falco noticed it. He knew what she was thinking about.
“You don’t have to go, you know,” he said. “Everybody would understand if you stayed here.”
“No … I know how much you want me to come along, so we can be together for a few more weeks.”
“I do. But I wouldn’t be angry if you stayed. It’s perfectly alright.”
“You misunderstand. I want us to be together for a few more weeks as well. It’s just …”
“I know. Thialfi.”
“I really don’t like leaving him behind.”
“I’ll miss him too, but we can’t take him along. He’s not even six months old yet. It’s much safer for him to stay in the Adlerburg. Don’t worry. It will only be for a few weeks, and he’ll have his handlers, Calvin, your grandfather and even Ursula to watch over him. Ursula will probably be more protective than all the others combined.”
“Mm, don’t underestimate my grandfather. Too bad, dad is already on his post in Woodburg.”
“I’m just saying, he’ll be taken good care of. But if you want to stay anyway …”
“No. Enough talk. Let’s just get on board and get this thing on the way.”
“Okay.”


Moments later, they installed themselves in their comfortable but rather cramped little cabin. The servants placed their personal possessions in the cabinets and left. Falco grinned.
“What’s so funny?” Anya asked.
“This ship. Remember the one we were on back in Singastein? That one was huge. Easily five times as big as this one.”
“Even bigger than that.”
“Yeah. How come we don’t have ships like that? I mean, we are descendants from the Viku, experienced sailors who explored the world all over. How come almost every realm in Midgard has lost its interest in the sea and in building ships? The only real fleet around is that of Armorica. And the Armoricans have the least Viku blood in their veins of all of Midgard! It’s so weird.”
“I think our ancestors were a bit preoccupied with conquering this vast land of Midgard and settling it and living together with the natives. Somewhere along the road, they lost interest. They traded the sea for the land, you might say.”
“Ooh! Very poetic,” Falco smiled.
“Don’t tease, farm boy,” Anya grinned. “Anyway, I still prefer this small cabin to the big one I had on the Aegir. I was, after all, basically a prisoner. And you were locked up in the cargo hold, being tortured by that vampire woman. I forgot her name.”
“Lenora. And she didn’t intentionally torture me. It was more a byproduct of trying to discover the nature of my soul or aura. She paid for it dearly in the end. Anyway, I wouldn’t mind sailing on a ship like that, provided I was a real guest.”
“Meh. I’m not that fond of sailing the sea. I wonder if the Aegir still exists …?”
“I think so. The dwarfs intercepted the ship after we had escaped, but they didn’t sink it. From what Thorfin told me, it simply sailed to the Tarquinian islands, after some repairs.”
“I’m not sure whether I should be happy or sad about that. It would have been a waste to destroy such a marvelous ship, but then again, it was more than likely owned by the Tarquinian Circle. I’ll tell you one thing though. Our ship better try to be as stable in the water as the Aegir, or I’ll be puking all over the room.”
“The joy of traveling,” Falco mumbled. “I’m looking forward to it already.”


However, luck was on their side. So was nature. The waters of the Great Fjord were calm and the weather pleasant. Even though it was still rather cold for the time of year, there was no more snow or even rain and spring was finally, hesitantly showing its face. There was no puking in the cabin or anywhere else.
They all enjoyed the short sea journey in their own fashion. Halem and Miranda spent most of their time in their cabin, as there was little guarding to do, considering the circumstances. Talisin kept pondering the meaning of the booklet. Arno wanted to know all about sailing and Pumori loved climbing in the rigging and spending hours in the crow’s nest. Narvi stared at he plans of Wolf Rock and pondered, together with Erwin and the engineers, what would have to be done to repair and reinforce the old fortress. Bloodwing was often seen, flying over the ships or along the shoreline. He didn’t stay on any ship, but preferred to make his ‘camp’ on land. Falco and Anya just enjoyed each other’s company.
Two and a half uneventful days later, the ships sailed into the small harbor of Grimkeep and were greeted by an enthusiastic crowd and count Kris Skallagrim and his family. Ewan was among the first to get on shore. He was looking forward to spending some time with his father and brothers.
They spent a pleasant and busy week in Grimkeep. Falco and Anya visited the sites where the heaviest fighting had taken place and the spot in the wall where the enemy had almost broken through once and had only been repulsed because of the valiant counter attack of the count and his personal knights. They visited the graves of the fallen, both high ranking and commoner, publicly honored the brave defenders and their brave count and announced that a monument would be built to commemorate the tenacious defense of the city against the Caledonian attackers.
All in all, it was a very friendly and happy visit, but it was of course also very public, including giving speeches, which Falco hated doing. His public speeches were usually of the variety he called ‘short and sweet’. Despite his best efforts to put as much honor on Kris, it was inevitable that a lot of the attention of the people went to him as well. He was after all, the young jarl who had rather decisively won an unwinnable war. And although he didn’t mind getting a bit of hero worshipping himself, he soon got bored and embarrassed by the never ending admiration of the citizens and nobles. Anya had always been better in handling these kind of situations.
So, it was with mixed feelings that Falco looked upon the visit to Grimkeep coming to an end. He was all too happy to escape the worshipping crowd, but he wasn’t too keen on seeing Anya go. She wouldn’t be going to Wolf Rock. Getting there and inspecting the place and the surrounding land, would take at the very least three weeks. Probably more like a month. And then they would still have to return. That was too long a time for her to leave Thialfi, so she would return with the ships to Griffnar, while Falco would continue his journey over land with the werewolves, Lady Pumori and the people Falco had chosen to help her take care of the castle. Talisin and Halem would accompany Anya to make sure she got home safely. Of course, in reality, they would very quickly return in a small ship, just the two of them, to meet with Falco on a secluded beach, close to the Pict Mountains.
“Be careful,” Anya whispered in his ear, when they said their last goodbyes at the city gate. “Olaf promised this would be a short quest. A few months at the most. He better keep his word, or I’ll come looking for him. And you of course.”
“Don’t worry,” Falco smiled. “I have a good feeling about this. After all we have survived already, I don’t think I’ll be getting in trouble with this northern adventure. It just bothers me I know so little about what the goal of this expedition is.”
“If it is to save a fair maiden from a dragon, you better make it clear to her you’re already taken.”
“I can’t make any promises. I have my traditional duties as rescuer of fair maidens you know. Nothing I can do about that.”
Anya punched him playfully in the arm and quickly embraced and kissed him.
“Go now,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything else. I want to remember you as the silly ass you really are.”
Falco nodded, pressed his forehead briefly and gently to hers, turned and mounted Bloodwing. Anya watched in silence, her smile somewhat frozen on her face, as the caravan disappeared in the distance.


They moved fast, despite the weather changing again and throwing heavy winds and rain at them. Pumori was too eager to reach her new home to wait for the more cumbersome wagons with supplies and building materials and less mobile advisors, so she left them under the care of a strong escort and rode ahead with her friends. Falco joined her, steering his Griffin next to Pumori's horse. Wolfie, her young Fenrir wolf was running beside her. It was amazing how fast that animal was growing. It wouldn't be long anymore before Pumori would use him as a mount instead of a horse.
“Taking the lead, eh Pumori? Excuse me, Lady Pumori.”
“Yes, yes. Pumori know the way.”
“Your guides suggested another path …”
“Guides suggest path better for wagons. Leave slow wagons behind. This path Falco-lord and Pumori take last year, when on way to crush evil Coronado.”
“I already thought this place was eerily familiar.”
“Mm-mm. Are true. Once Pumori take path, never forget. Are locked in head,” she said, tapping her head with her finger. “Net get lost, not even when get bumped on the head.”
“I see. That’s pretty convenient.”
“Yes, Pumori are pretty.”
“You must be really looking forward to your new castle, that you are in such a hurry.”
“Pumori are! But … have also secret second reason.”
“And what’s that? Oh wait, I probably can’t be told, because it’s a secret.”
“No, are alright. Falco-lord can know, because Falco-lord are reason.”
She leaned slightly towards him, quickly looked around in a conspiratorial fashion and whispered: “Pumori know Falco-lord not can stay as said to all peoples. Have to go quickly. But … if Pumori hurry and leave carts behind, then Pumori win day and Falco-lord can stays for one more day. Yes?” she added hopeful.
Falco scratched his head.
“Well,” he whispered, “we are working with a strict schedule, so Miranda and I meet up with Halem and Talisin at the right moment. If I have an extra day, I should probably use it as reserve, in case something goes wrong along the way.”
“Aww!” Pumori sighed disappointed.
“But then, we already took that into account and allowed for some leeway. And Bloodwing is very fast, even carrying two people. And what could go wrong flying high up in the air? Alright, if we arrive a day early, I can stay for an extra day at Wolf Rock.”
“YAY! I mean, yay,” she whispered. “Pumori are glad. Ehm … Falco-lord help Kian-princeling in dreams when with orcsies, yes? And help protect from nightmares later?”
“You know what I did.”
“Falco-lord understand much of dreams then?”
“Not … really. It just … happens. Like an instinct.”
“Ah, instinct! Pumori understand.”
“Why do you ask? Are you bothered by nightmares?” Falco asked worried.
“No, silly. Pumori always have good dreams. No bad dreams. Pumori just curious. That all.”
“Okay, but if you have problems, you know you can always come to me. You know that, right?”
“Pumori know. Falco-lord very sweet. But Pumori no trouble. Look! There are tree, Pumori jumped out to surprise Falco-lord! Falco-lord startle hard, Pumori remember.”
She giggled a bit and Falco smiled. The wolf girl glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She hadn’t been lying. There were no nightmares. But … her dreams had become rather … lively … lately. And a bit odd. Not the usual, normal dreams she had, like the ones where Falco-lord visited her in the nudesies and they had the night together. No … it were the other dreams. The ones in which she felt … a very familiar presence she nevertheless couldn’t identify. But one thing she knew with certainty: whatever or whoever this dream presence was, he meant her no harm. It was something worth discussing with Falco-lord, but not now. Not when he was about to leave on a strange adventure, which would be all the more dangerous because Pumori wouldn’t be there to protect him. She wasn’t inconspicuous enough to join them on this mission.
‘Well, that are probably true,’ she thought, as she looked down at her wolflike legs. ‘Maybe will tell Falco-lord when come back. Not bother now.’
And so, after a wet and shorter journey than they had expected, the foreboding silhouette of the old but impressive mountain castle appeared before them in the late afternoon. Lights were burning in the windows of the keep. Count Skallagrim had not been idle. Knowing his own oldest son would be living in the castle for at least half the time, he had sent construction teams ahead, even though it was still winter, to clean out the mess and make sure the living quarters were actually livable. It had been less work than expected. Coronado and his men, and even more so the prisoners and slaves they had captured, had already done much of the work. Not to mention the fact that the fortress had never really been without occupants. Thieves, bandits and all sort of unsavory characters had made their den here. Now it would be up to Lady Pumori, her werewolves and her guards to keep this wild region under control.
A steward welcomed them home and showed them the quarters that had been prepared (although he was taken a bit by surprise by their early arrival). The rest of the day, they spent choosing rooms and settling in. The next day was spent in checking out the castle. Pumori and her friends wanted to investigate every nook and cranny and Falco was only too happy to join them. Miranda was less eager, but followed anyway. That evening, Pumori ordered a big feast, to celebrate their arrival (and welcome the wagons that had finally caught up). It was good timing. It allowed Falco and Miranda to party, sleep in the next day and rest well before they left in the middle of the following night.
Falco enjoyed the feast, refusing to think about the future and blocking out memories of the past. He didn’t sleep in very late, but after spending some more time with Pumori and listening to her enthusiastic plans for the castle and pointing out where she would send patrols on a big map of the region (which was very incomplete, but Erwin was determined to make it complete), he retreated to his room in the middle of the afternoon to take a nap and prepare for his departure.
He was woken up by the sound of clattering weapons. He yawned, stretched, pushed the furs that served as blankets out of the way and got out of bed. Slowly, and wearing only his pants, he strolled to the window and looked outside. Below, on the courtyard, Pumori and her werewolves were exercising. Cailida was sitting on a log on the sideline, shouting instructions. Rodey and one of the twin girls were just transforming into werewolf form. Falco looked at them and shook his head in wonder.
“How did I end up with a pack of werewolves?” he whispered to himself. “They are just the stuff of legend. Is it this damn prophecy that hasn’t just caused my existence, if that is true at all, but theirs as well?”
But where did they really come from? Pumori was the creation of a brilliant but cruel dwarf without a conscience who considered humans lower animals, rather than intelligent beings. And the rest of them had been created from that basis, combined with the magic of an elf sorceress. A Dawnar elf sorceress … if Arcala really was a Dawnar elf. It was not an entirely reassuring origin story.
Still, there was no doubt in his mind that they were loyal to him and that they were all good at heart. He had just been lucky that they had ended up on his side and not, for example, had been created by Arvik, the dwarf, for Moorgash or the Tarquinian Circle. Falco turned away from the window and froze. He was staring at himself in a big man sized mirror. The image of the wolf head, carved in his chest, stared back at him.
“Or maybe, it’s not a lucky coincidence,” he whispered.  
He had dedicated the werewolves to Odin, but that, in reality, was but a farce. Their wild and sometimes unpredictable nature, combining brutal force and power with playfulness and silliness was something that fitted another god infinitely better. The same god that was Moorgash’s tribal crest and whose image had been cut in his chest. Falco had broken the spell that had made it possible for Loki to speak to him through that scar, but had he neglected the power and presence of another god? One of Loki’s children? Was that how werewolves had come to this world and how they had been tied to him? Had he ever really been free of the dark gods of Asgard? In this very castle, he had proven how cold and harsh he could be when, in one terrible night, he had slaughtered Coronado and his men. Striking from the darkness … without mercy or remorse … He had blocked it out of his mind the previous night, so he could party without showing any unease to Pumori or Miranda or the others, but being in that same hall again, feasting and eating instead of killing, had been extremely weird.
He just stared at his own image, paralyzed by his disturbing train of thoughts.
“Falco!”
He startled and gasped, grateful for the interruption. Miranda was standing in the door.
“I knocked, but you didn’t answer. Are you alright?”
“Sure, Miranda. I … ehm … was miles away for a moment. But I’m okay. No problem.”
She gave him an inquisitive and worried look. She didn’t doubt there had been something, but she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be willing to talk about it right now. It was better to help him relax a little.
“Admiring yourself in the mirror, eh?” she said, shaking her head. “I see you have taken up your old habit of walking around with your shirt off.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Remember Jotunheim?”
“I wore a shirt there.”
“Only after we stole that shirt from that merchant. And each time Anya was around, you found an opportunity to take it off.”
“I never did anything like that,” Falco protested.
“Sure you did.”
“No, I didn’t. And if I ever did, it was because I had spent a couple of years with orcs and goblins and I had forgotten about correct manners. You on the other hand, had no such excuse, when you insisted on skinny dipping in that little lake.”
“That was when it was still just the two of us. And we were both stinky and needed a bath. There was nothing wrong with that.”
“You can say that again. First time I ever saw an attractive adult woman in the nude,” Falco said, putting on his shirt. “Nothing like those emaciated human slaves I sometimes caught a glimpse of in Utgard.”
“You couldn’t have seen me. I blindfolded you.”
“Oh yeah … right …”
“I knew it!” Miranda exclaimed. “I knew you were still able to peek through that blindfold!”
Falco just laughed and walked out of  the room. Miranda had chased away his disturbing thought about the werewolves, at least for the moment. It was time to have a last dinner and then, when it got dark, a new adventure awaited them.