Anna von Wessen (46 page)

“Anna von Wessen!” said he. “You could have fought by my side, you see! But now you are my enemy.”

He came for her with no further ado. They met on hind legs, and wrapped arms in their tussle much as grizzly bears do.

“Perhaps I will spare your life,” he grunted, “if you make a deal with me.”

“I’ll draw no bargain with you,” returned Anna, as she pushed against him relentlessly.

“Only change your shape – and let me have you. It’s not too late, you know, to choose me.”

“You are a fool,” Anna said simply. Wolach’s eyes flashed; and his teeth locked

with hers, as each went for the other’s throat.

And he was so strong! He was stronger, no doubt, than any wolf Anna had faced before. But just as he was no more fearsome than she, well – neither was he any mightier than she. Therefore he grew quickly discouraged, and began to realise that his winning was not so certain as he had thought. For the smallest fraction of a second, these doubts caused him to give pause, and to draw back just slightly. In that time Anna managed to unlock her jaws from his, and to use them to rip the flesh from beneath his chin. He fell down dead; and all in a moment, the great Wolach was no more.

His soldiers were unspeakably shaken by this much unexpected event. They fought on, for they were no cowards; but pressed upon by wolf and Lumarian alike, their numbers began rapidly to dwindle, and what had begun as an impressive army was soon naught but a scrapping brigand. The dead of every race, and every side, lay scattered all about. The wolves had started great bonfires, and were pitching masses of Lumarian bodies into them, so as to render themselves easier of the fact that those bodies should not suddenly rise from their fallen positions, and begin to fight all over again (which the tricky creatures had sometimes the propensity to do, when their heads were not taken just right, or their hearts not skewered in precisely the proper place). 

The highest heads of the enemy houses were perished. Koro, King of the Lumaria, was vanquished. Greyson Menuch himself had slain Abrast! And Josev of Wisthane – craven fellow that he was, he shifted almost directly he saw Wolach, with a goodly number of the Lumaria (a dishonourable blend of Koro’s, Ephram’s, and his own) to Black Manor. Wolach was felled by the jaws of Anna von Wessen. Against all odds, it appeared that the Weldon wolves would triumph with the Endai.

But hold! We told you of all, we told you of everyone – everyone save Ephram. What was he doing, we wonder, while all this dreadfulness took place? Why, he was hiding within the castle, and cowering upon his very throne! He sat, empty and broken, with his head hanging in his hands. It seemed he might verily die there, with not even a claw to cut him.

And yet – we know too much of him, perhaps, to believe that this should be the case. His very wounds made him all the more tenacious. What he loved, he sacrificed for honour. Why would he do different now?

So, as the wolves were overtaking the castle once more, he appeared suddenly on the very threshold. The daylight, much wearied by the terrible sights it had witnessed through the hours, had finally bidden the battle adieu, and given concession to the blackness of night, which is far more suited to the horrors of war. As Ephram stepped out of the castle, the clean light of the stars shone down upon his deceivingly fair head, which was so stained with sin. For the first time since his return to Drelho, he wore his gleaming crown, and it appeared very beautiful in that same star-shine.

He looked at the surrounding scene with a blank countenance, as if naught he saw meant anything at all to him. All about the place where he stood, and for perhaps a half-mile radius around, the wolves were fighting the last of the Lumarian guard which had remained for its allegiance to King Ephram of Drelho. Anna was in the very thick of them, fighting back-to-back with Kings Balkyr and Xeros, Dahro, Griel and Nessa. Just at the bottom of the stair she stood, swiping the last of her foes like flies from a honey-jar.

There was no line of thought, no hatred, scorn, contempt or disappointment which spurred Ephram forward. He simply watched her for a moment – if one had examined him closely enough, it might even have been said that he smiled faintly – and then shifted behind her. Almost with surprise he looked down at his own hand, which held the powerful Sonorin. It was the very strangest thing; because for the life of him, he could not remember having taken it up.

He looked ahead at the dark mass which was Anna, and hardly had he even considered the thing, before he hefted the Sonorin’s weight in his fist – and drove its pointed edge through Anna’s left shoulder-blade. He held it there for a moment, till with its evil magic it began to vibrate, and there started up a blue-white light from its round silver head, which originated at the place where it pierced Anna, and radiated like cold fire through the darkness.

The mob was stilled, and all eyes turned towards the King. Until that moment, they had not known, had not even suspected that he was come. But he had no eyes for them. He only stared at the spot where Anna stood, breathing heavily, still with her back to him. Suddenly his eyes widened, and he wrenched the Sonorin from her skin. He gazed with an indescribable expression at the blood upon its tip – and then cast it far from him.

With a mighty effort, Anna turned round to face him, and changed her shape. In an instant the wolf departed, and it was only Anna: the Anna Ephram had first held in a barren ship, and upon an even more desolate sea, in the year 1936; the Anna he had loved for long years, above his own son, and above all other things. She thought, every moment of that time, that he loved her only to heal the heart which Vaya had broken – but alas, this was anything but true. In time she became to him everything that Vaya never was; was closer to him than Vaya had ever been. He had never loved anything at all, just the way he loved Anna. This she had never known, but this she knew now, as for the first time in Ephram’s unnaturally long life, the wall built over his thoughts was razed, and she fell upon them, as if upon fire. Ephram spoke not a word, but collapsed to his knees.

Meanwhile, Vaya was at a distance, taking down the last of Wolach’s soldiers. She felt Anna’s pain like a lance through her own heart, and arrived in an instant. She caught sight of Anna, lying bleeding upon the ground. She hurried towards her – but on her way, she passed Ephram, who still knelt silent and motionless in his place. Without so much as looking at him, she struck his crowned head down to the earth, all muddy with the life-blood of the wolves. So went the last of the Lumarian Kings, at the Battle of Drelho in 2012.

Vaya fell down beside Anna, and cradled her head in her hands. She screamed for cloth. Of course, the Weldon wolves and the Endai had seen what was passing; and after slaying the stray Lumaria, and going quietly about the business of ushering the last of Wolach’s surviving wolves (who had surrendered) together, and binding them, they gathered silently round the spot. Even Wolach’s wolves looked up from their prostrate positions to witness the demise of the mighty Anna von Wessen. Amidst the many were Hyro, and the little girl whose torture Anna had stopped in the hold of Ephram’s ship.

For this reason, there were any number of friends nearby, who leapt quickly to assist. Greyson and Clyde were foremost amongst them, as they gathered the thick cloaks of the dead Lumaria, and delivered them to Vaya. But afterwards, though Greyson came as near as he dared, he seemed afraid of going to Anna.  

Vaya went quickly about the work of wrapping Anna’s flowing wound, though her fingers trembled so much as to make them nearly useless, and she could scarcely see for a strange blurriness which had come to cover her eyes. As she gazed helplessly down into Anna’s face, the clouds only worsened, and she felt almost blind. Then, quite suddenly – tears, real tears, began to stream down her cheeks. With one hand she held protectively to Anna’s head, but with the other she touched the warm tears in astonishment.

Anna smiled so brightly, surely none would ever have guessed that she was in mortal pain and peril. She lifted a weak and shaking hand, to lay it upon Vaya’s damp cheek. “You see?” she said. “Your soul is not so far as you think.”

“I don’t care how near it is!” Vaya cried. And it was true; for as the grey cloak under Anna’s back turned dark with blood, she forgot everything about these amazing tears. “I don’t care, Anna,” she sobbed. “It’s you I want close to me.”

“I will be again,” Anna whispered. Her voice was failing; her strength was fading. “Don’t you see?”

Dio Constantín dropped down beside them, then. His face showed that through all his years, and all his heartache, he had never known so much pain. He reached a gnarled old hand towards his daughter, and she moved to clasp it.

“It’s all right, Father,” she murmured. “Our God is calling to me – if you will believe it! He will keep me till you come.”

“Oh, God!” cried Dio, as he fell to his face in the mud. “Oh, dear Father! Not her, oh Lord – take me instead! Oh, take me . . .”

And so it shows, that even the most faithful fear the deaths of those they love. They cannot see what they see; and they know not how beautiful the light is, or how sweet the music which greets their departure. It is very hard, you know, to kneel upon the darkness of the earth, and witness the disappearance of your heart’s substance into a land you cannot view. You know it is there, and you know that this present darkness is but a passing cloud; but still you doubt, and still you are afraid. Thus are you human – whatever race you be, under the hand of God.

Anna turned her head a little, to look to the place where Greyson stood. “Come, Greyson!” she said.

The poor fellow came immediately, and bent over her.

“You are not evil, Greyson,” Anna said to him, as she reached to ruffle his wild hair. “You could be very good, I know. You will try for me?”

“I – I – yes, Anna,” answered Greyson confusedly.

“You’ll help him, Vaya?” Anna said. “Yes – I know you will. You’ll look after him.”

Her eyes were beginning to close. But Vaya clasped her tightly, and shook her to rouse her. “No, Anna!” she cried. “Oh, Anna – please don’t leave me. Please – please, Anna . . .”

She wept so that her tears mixed down with the blood, and blended the bitter brew of earthly sorrow and death. But oh, if only she – if only Dio and Greyson! – could have seen what Anna saw!

“Never,” said Anna, in a voice which was faint but firm. “Never would I leave you, Vaya. I must go now, that is true – I have no say in that. But always I’ll be with you. And someday – someday you will come to me . . .”

“If you must go,” spoke Vaya, in a voice so wrung with grief that it may have melted for the briefest moment, even the heart of the devil himself, “if you must go, Anna – won’t you take me with you? I don’t – oh, I don’t want to be where you’re not! Take me! Won’t you, won’t you take me . . .?”

“I would,” said Anna, “if I could. But I don’t – I don’t think it’s time.”

She coughed, and there came a river of blood from her mouth. She wiped it away with a stalwart hand, and went on, “He says you cannot come with me. You must stay. But I – I will wait for you . . .”

There was no argument left to be made. Vaya sank down upon the ground, and drew Anna carefully into her lap. She held her head very gently to her breast, and stared every moment into her eyes, from which the light was quickly dissipating. While Anna lingered, she held ever to Vaya’s hand, and pressed it with a reminder of all the love she had ever bestowed upon her. But after a time her eyes began to close again. They slid slowly shut; and for a while she appeared only sleeping. Soon, though, her hold on Vaya’s hand slackened. It went altogether limp and cold in Vaya’s grip – and the sleep was changed to death.

Vaya’s screams went up to fill the air. The silent watchers all around turned their eyes down to the ground; for it was more than they could bear to witness this pain of heart, which raged inside the Lumarian who huddled over the Narkul. Poor Greyson, meanwhile, knelt for a little on the ground, his face painted with abject shock. But then he rose up, and busied himself with trying to help Dio Constantín, who had fallen insensible to the ground.

For a long time the screaming continued. But finally it ebbed, as all such things will do; and there was naught left to see but the stain of unrelenting tears. Dahro came forth, with Ceir and Nessa too, in an attempt to speak to Vaya. But she would not hear them. She did not see them. She did not look to the place where Balkyr knelt, with Xeros’s head on his knee. The old wolf’s heart had given out, it seemed, just at the end of battle. He lay just as peacefully, now, as Anna did; and as Leventh did, having been by this time removed from the castle stair, to rest with his brothers and sisters.

Griel, then (the highest-ranking soldier left alive, or conscious in Dio Constantín’s case) thought it fitting to speak a few words. He stood at a respectful distance from the place where Vaya still crumbled above Anna’s pale, serene countenance, and addressed the wolves.

“Today the Weld has conquered,” he said. “It was not through any greatness of our own – but only through God have we won.”

While he spoke, Wolach’s captured looked round miserably at their fallen comrades; and seemed, perhaps, as if they were beginning to doubt whether they had fought on the right side.

“Yet we cannot but look now,” Griel went on, “to Anna von Wessen, who was sent to us for this battle, and without whom we could not have triumphed. She has made the ultimate sacrifice for our victory. For
her
victory. Turn to, Narken, and salute her!”