Abandoned to the Wolves
"How much farther? This is going to take all day."
"We need to go deeper, my lord. That's where it'll show itself."
Joseph said it calmly. Thankfully, the man behind him was Johan — had it been only the mercenaries, he'd have thrown himself flat on the ground in supplication.
"And how would you know that?"
"Monsters claim wide territories, my lord. It appeared, yet the village suffered no harm — so it must have staked its territory deep inside the forest. I'd wager it's settled itself among the wolves' range in the interior."
Monsters behaved nothing like ordinary animals. They didn't hesitate to attack and devour their own kind, either. If the black wolf hadn't come down toward the village, there was only one place left for it — the deep woods.
"God, this is tediously boring. Are there no deer?"
"A deer or two would be a blessing, my lord."
Deer were the preferred quarry of the nobility. On noble hunting grounds they were absolutely untouchable, so unless an opportunity like this arose, mercenaries rarely got the chance to take one.
"Hey, gamekeeper. You're doing this right, aren't you? I mean, can't you at least scatter some bait or something?"
Nobles' gamekeepers did sometimes scatter feed on the hunting grounds. Put feed down often enough, and the beasts in the grounds developed the habit of coming to eat it. Once that habit took hold, when a noble finally came to hunt, the game could be found easily without anyone lifting a finger.
"There's no need for that with a monster, my lord. It'll charge the moment it lays eyes on us."
"Tch."
The mercenary rapped his sword hilt in visible irritation at Joseph's answer. Had Johan not been present, the man looked ready to land a blow on him outright.
No one could expect chivalry from mercenaries just because Sir Karamap was riding with them. Mercenaries were, for the most part, rough and savage men. The saying that 'an idle mercenary is no better than a bandit' did not exist for nothing.
When Sir Karamap was present they might mind themselves, but with him gone there was nothing strange about them letting their tempers flare.
"Joseph. Is that actually true?"
"The monster, my lord? Most likely..."
Monsters were many times fiercer and more vicious than ordinary beasts. Even a predator like a wolf might flee or keep its distance when armed knights appeared — a monster would do no such thing.
Awoooooo—
"!"
"A wolf! Is it the one?"
At the howl echoing from the distance, the grumbling mercenaries snapped to attention. The horses shivered and whinnied, trembling.
"Hold still, you stupid beast!"
One of the mercenaries spurred his horse forward and drew the cavalry crossbow hanging from his saddle. Small and weak in draw weight, being made to fire from horseback, but more than enough for hunting wolves.
"Gamekeeper! I asked if it's the one!"
"I... I don't think so, my lord!"
"Why not!"
"That howl isn't coming from a single animal!"
"What? It's one animal howling! Are your ears rotting off? Can we even trust this man?"
"What would some backwater gamekeeper bastard know anyway..."
The mercenaries hurled curses without hesitation. Joseph cursed them silently in return.
Bastards who don't know the first thing about hunting...
It was plain to see the mercenaries had never hunted in their lives. They'd killed men on battlefields, certainly, but they clearly had no experience prowling forests and mountains tracking game. Everything about the way they carried themselves gave it away.
Men like that, lured here by nothing but rumors of a monster and the promise of its hide, had no hope of a proper hunt.
I hope the wolves bite your asses off!
And God answered Joseph's prayer.
Wolf howls began to ring out from every direction.
"?!"
"What is it, Joseph? They shouldn't be acting like this."
Johan asked in bewilderment, turning to Joseph. The wolves of this forest were cunning predators, not blood-mad ones. They knew armed men meant danger.
Ordinarily, when people entered their territory, they would retreat or yield the ground. Instead, they were now closing in, howling savagely.
"The monster!"
"!"
"It has to be the monster, my lord. It's taken control of the pack!"
Occasionally, a monster would subjugate beasts rather than fight them. Joseph had only ever heard of it secondhand, from an old hunter, but...!
Wolves were pack hunters by nature. Being pack animals, they would have been all the more susceptible to a monster's domination.
"Oh. Finally it shows itself!"
One of the mercenaries shouted in excitement. Wait around bored all this time, and at last a fight — Joseph gaped at him and cried out.
"Do not shoot!"
"What? Gamekeeper, don't spout nonsense. You're not the only one who knows how to hunt. Wolf bastards — I've chased my share while working as a mercenary."
The mercenary said it in annoyance. True, he'd never roamed forests and mountains like a hunter, but he had plenty of experience driving off wolves that ambushed the merchant caravans he'd guarded on the roads.
"This isn't an ordinary situ—"
Thwip!
Without waiting for an answer, the mercenary loosed his crossbow. With a whistle of wind, the bolt flew — a short, stubby thing that buried itself in a tree with a dull thunk.
"Bastard. You can't even hit that? Where'd your skill go?"
"Shut up. They're circling us."
"My lord Johan! Please make them listen!"
Joseph turned to Johan with the plea. But Johan shook his head.
"Wh-why?"
"You think those men would listen to me? Better we look after our own necks. Let them die if they want to."
"...!"
"How dangerous is our situation, exactly?"
"If that monster is commanding the wolves, it has only one goal. It means to attack us!"
Between the dense trees, the shapes of wolves flickered into view and vanished again. The sound of underbrush brushing past sent a chill down the spine. Joseph muttered in a voice edged with despair.
"They're surrounding us...!"
"Then it's decided. Joseph. Get on my horse."
"My lord?"
"If it comes to the worst, we'll need to ride straight through them."
For an instant, Joseph felt relief at Johan's composure — and then bewilderment at the feeling itself.
Feeling relief in a moment like this? Have I lost my mind?
Having finished their encirclement, the wolves began to approach more openly now, showing themselves. They moved boldly enough to be clearly visible even to the mercenaries, who loosed their bolts with a stream of curses.
"Why the hell are these bastards hiding so much? Come out, damn you!"
"What are they skulking around for?"
The mercenaries bristled with irritation. Wolves that ambushed travelers on the roads had no patience — they'd throw themselves straight at the wagons and carts, and the mercenaries would simply pick them off one at a time.
But the wolves here were cunning and clever. They darted from place to place, drawing the mercenaries into wasting shot after shot.
Worse, a crossbow was a misery to reload. Slow even on solid ground, and doubly so from horseback. The cranks and tools that sped up reloading were expensive, and few mercenaries bothered to carry them.
Thwip!
When the sound of the last bolt faded, the wolves began to howl savagely. It was the signal announcing the start of the battle.
"There they are, you sons of bitches!"
The mercenary twisted his body, sneering at the wolf charging straight at him. He raised his axe high and swung down skillfully at the oncoming beast.
"Watch your flank!"
The charging wolf died with its throat cut — but it was not alone. From the brush on the left, another wolf leapt high, going for the mercenary's exposed leg.
What saved the man's life was his comrade, who whisked out his sword and ran the wolf through the neck.
"Kraaagh!"
Even in death, the wolf thrashed and worried at the man's leg. Whether his chain mail was worn out or luck simply failed him, the wolf's teeth tore the flesh open. Blood sprayed, and the meat of his calf hung in shreds.
"These wolves are out of their goddamn minds!"
"Form up! Get together and form ranks!"
They were veterans of many battles, so their fighting spirit didn't collapse at once — but there was little they could actually do. This was, from the start, a fight they had never known.
The wolves moved nothing like men. Their movements were elastic, unpredictable. While you dealt with the one lunging at your front, another would come flying at your back or from above before you knew it.
And the wolves didn't care how many of their own died — they kept coming. They crashed into mercenaries to drag them off their horses, or went for the horses' legs, biting and tearing. Even an armed man, once thrown to the ground, was likely to have his throat — some vital place — torn out before he could rise.
More than a dozen wolves had fallen, but the mercenaries were dropping one by two as well.
"You fucking mongrel!"
The man commanding the ten-man band roared and bashed a wolf's skull aside with his round shield. Carving out that gap, he bellowed:
"Shit! We're getting out! This isn't worth the pay!"
"H-hey! Take me with you!"
The fallen mercenary screamed in desperation. But his comrades didn't so much as look back — they spurred their horses into a gallop, the animals screaming as they ran.
"Let's go too."
Johan, who had been watching idly from the side, put his own horse in motion. Perhaps the wolves had eyes only for the mercenaries, because Johan and Joseph were left in peace.
Behind the retreating men, the wolves' howls rolled and echoed. The mercenaries shuddered now with a skin-crawling dread they hadn't felt before. To be so utterly humiliated by nothing more than a pack of wolves.
"It's chasing us!"
"Damn this cursed forest path. These trails are absolute dogshit!"
The path was narrow and choked with obstacles, so even on horseback there was no way to build speed. Worse, unlike a few moments ago when they'd been clustered in formation, the mercenaries were now fleeing in single file.
Utterly vulnerable to attack.
They knew it as well as anyone, but there was nothing to be done. Stopping here would be idiocy. And besides...
As long as it's not me!
So long as some other poor bastard was the one getting bitten, it made no difference to any of them.
"You're slow."
"M-my lord Johan."
"I'm not abandoning you, so stop talking in that pitiful voice. Grown men whining like that — it gives me chills."
Joseph relaxed at Johan's joke. Johan was bringing up the rear of the whole column; carrying two riders had slowed him down.
He'd been on pins and needles expecting an ambush, but the wolves hadn't attacked even once yet. With the howls still ringing out alongside them, though, one thing was certain — the pack was still following.
"My lord Johan!"
"?"
The rearmost mercenary was all but brushing against Johan's horse. His mount was bleeding as it ran — wounded, perhaps. He clearly knew how far he'd fallen behind, and his face was a smear of desperation and dread.
"Throw him away!"
"What?"
"Throw him away, I said! You bastard! I'll explain later!"
Along with his horse, the mercenary seized Joseph by the collar. Joseph choked and wheezed at the sudden assault. Regardless, the mercenary's eyes darted wildly as he tried to shake Joseph off and drop him.
"M-my lord Johan..."
"Ah. I see. As wolf bait?"
"Yes! Now you're catching on!"
"Why bother, when there's a better candidate right here."
Along with the words, Johan's fist crushed the mercenary's skull.