The Ambassador

"We Wolf-kin bow to no Sun-men. Us sons and daughters of the Moon declare our independence of human control. Tonight, Ironwoods are ours!" Kavr the Crow, 988 AV

Xord, The Iron Forest, 1703 AV

“Kotor, a whelp finds its way to our door.” A grisly, bearded face spoke in the raspy language of the wolves. A man stood just inside a small hut, raising a gauntlet towards the open door. Four thick prongs slinked from the gauntlet’s knuckles, curving past his fists. His bare chest was covered in old scars, and the knees of his linen pants were slashed open with claw marks.

“Let her in, Vaetr.” The young man next to him said without turning around. Great locks of silver hair fell past his back and onto the floor behind him as he sat down, his legs crossed. “The Gith have been nothing but kind to us.”

Vaetr did not look convinced. “Who are you, young one?”

A woman, scarcely old enough to be called that, stood at the entrance of the hut. “What does it matter to you?” She asked. Her white hair was braided with dull flowers and ruby-red string. She stepped into the hut, her bare feet black with mud and dirt. Her right hand bore a black, clawed gauntlet that was more slender than Vaetr’s. “I have business with you, Kotor.”

“He’s Alpha Kotor to you, whelp.” The bearded man growled. His eyes were silver and burnt with anger. “You’re lucky he’s in a forgiving mood, but don’t think that I’m-”

“I call none Alpha, old dog.” The girl walked past Vaetr and stood behind the man with silver hair. “I need to talk alone.”

The old man clenched his gauntlet into a fist. “Why, you insolent little-!”

“Vaetr!” Kotor turned his face towards the old man. His eyes were a deep blue, and only a faint semblance of beard could be seen on his pale face. “Leave. Now.” 

The old man grumbled something to himself before stomping out of the hut. The leather curtain flapped shut behind them.

Kotor sighed. “Petra, must you always be so arrogant?” He turned his kindly face towards the young woman. “Have the Gith taught you nothing of manners?”

“F**k manners.” Petra sat down next to the silver haired man. She was wearing a wool tunic and leather riding pants. Her black gauntlet was polished until it gleamed in the torchlight. “Why do we need them? Sherton is a long way from here.”

“Sherton is closer than you think, little one.” Kotor ruffled the girl’s hair. Grey petals fluttered from the braids and littered the floor. “You’ll be expected to go there, you know.”

Petra pushed his hand away. “Why? You hate those nobles just as much as I do.” Kotor’s chest was bare, and she could still see the pink gash that ran across his stomach, where an iron blade had nearly eviscerated him. “They tried to kill you.”

“There is no ‘they’ in this. In case you forgot, you are a noble, Petra-”

“No, I’m a wolf! A true daughter of the moon, unlike you and that Vaetr.” She traced the pattern on the rug with her claws.

Kotor smiled. Petra’s face was still round, but it was muddy and her eyes were his own deep blue. Underneath the sweet smell of the flowers in her hair, Kotor could smell the stench of mud and horse. “I know you are. But you are also my sister, and as a sister of the Alpha, you are to be my ambassador.”

“Why can’t your old dog do that for you?” Petra whined in her high, babyish voice.

“Vaetr is a good soldier and a true son of the moon, yet he has too much human blood in him-”

“-I’ve got human blood in me!-” The girl tried to argue.

“-And I need him here to support our pack.” Kotor talked over the young girl.

“But that’s not fair!” Petra leaned over towards the pale man.

Kotor thought for a moment. “No.” He finally responded. “No, it isn’t. But you have to do this regardless. I know why you’ve come here-”

“-So you know why I can’t go to Sherton!” Petra scooted around and rested on her knees in front of her brother. “Please, please don’t make me go! Not now. I need to find him.”

“You have to go now.” Kotor grabbed his sister’s shoulder. “The Moon-kin cannot be absent for the coronation the High Lord, Petra, and I cannot leave my pack in a time of war. With Cemalis dead and Turic captured, you are our only choice.”

“I’m not going to leave Turic in those cat-kin’s hands, brother. Please, I’m begging you.”

“I’m saying no.” Kotor stood. His hair fell down to his bare ankles as his stood to his full height, nearly reaching to top of the wooden ceiling. “I will free Turic myself. But you must leave soon, before we ride with our men. I cannot have your envoy caught up in the fighting.”

“I can fight!” Petra stood and showed Kotor her black gauntlet. It glimmered with orange flames. “Let me.”

Kotor ran his eyes over it. “Your claws are clean, sister. Every Leori warrior bloodies their claws before they can even come of age. You would be killed before you even entered the fray.” The pale man turned around and tugged his hair lightly. “If you would.”

Petra took a slight step forwards, and began braiding the long hair. “The Gith trust me, Kotor.” She said as she ran her claws through the silver strands, cutting away small knots. “They will fight with me. But they cannot follow you, or the old dog, or your other warriors. They are a proud tribe.”

“They are still part of my pack, Petra, and they will do as I say.” Kotor responded. “I am their Alpha! Their tribe is my tribe, and this is my brother that has been captured.”

“He may be your brother, but he is also their ward and warrior.” Petra allowed her black claws to slide back into her gauntlet’s knuckles before she continued weaving the silver hair. “I am one of them. The Gith are my family, just as much as you are. Let me ride with them into battle, let them rally around me-”

“A dead whelp is not much to rally behind.” Kotor spun around as soon as Petra had tied the last weave, knotting it together with a length of black string. “This is not negotiable, little one. Ready your things, and I’ll have the escort pick you up at moonrise.”

“Moonrise?” Petra’s eyes widened. “But the coronation is not for months! Why must I leave now-”

“Those are my orders.” Kotor looked down at his sister. “And you will follow them. This is war, and I cannot have anybody disobeying me, understand?”

Petra stood there for a moment, then looked towards the torch sconce on the wall, her eyes glinting red. “Fine.” She pushed past the man and burst through the leather curtain. Kotor could hear her steps turn harder and faster as she broke into a sprint away from the hut.

The Alpha sighed.

After a moment, the leather curtain parted, and Vaetr entered. “Just who was that?” The man said, his grey beard wiggling up and down as he spoke. “She went off running towards the stables.”

Of course she would. Kotor thought. “That was Petra, Vaetr.”

“Petra?” The old man’s eyes widened in shock. “Little Petra? You’re serious?”

“She will be thirteen years old in three cycles.” Kotor said. “I almost didn’t recognize her myself, to be honest.”

Vaetr tugged his beard. “Petra, huh.” The scraggy hair around his mouth widened as he grinned. “I’ll be damned. She really has grown, hasn’t she?”

“Yes.” Kotor felt the braid by his shoulder. His hair was now up to his waist, and he felt it was heavier all bundled up. “I need you to round up an escort for her. Roma and uncle Halvr, I think. And that Gith whelp, too. The black one.”

“An escort?” Vaetr flexed his gauntlet hand, clinking the dull iron together. “Where is she going? We need all the men we can get for our battle against the Leori.”

“She needs to be my ambassador to Sherton. For the High Lord’s coronation.” He explained as he began to walk to the back of the room. Hidden from view, a small chest of black steelwood blended into the shadows. The Alpha began to fiddle with the lock. “Who knows, maybe she will find a suitable husband over there.”

“A noble husband?” Vaetr laughed. “No self-respecting wolf-kin will ever marry an Urman. Especially not your sister.”

“We need to reenforce our presence in the capital, Vaetr.” Kotor took out a piece of gleaming metal from the shadowy chest. “A marriage will do that. Perhaps she could marry to a Leori family.”

“HAH! Petra will die before she does that.” 

“Still, we must try.” The Alpha turned around. A blue-grey gauntlet was affixed to his right hand, its blades retracted into the knuckles. The metal shone its own bluish-purple light on the man’s arm. “Bring my armor, Vaetr.”

“Kotor.” The old man looked at the gauntlet in shock. “You don’t really mean to use that.”

“Turic is my blood. I will do anything to rescue him.” Kotor gazed at the palm of the gauntlet. The spiral pattern of the wolf-kin was engraved onto it. “Inform our men to organize outside of camp. We ride at moonrise.”

------

A swift horse with a shadowy pelt charged through the thick, twisted woods. Weaving in and out of grey Steelwood trees, the creature’s master rested on its back, feeling the wind and stray leaves whip past her cheeks. Her braid was almost undone from the wind already, but she didn’t care. Deep in the Iron Forest, she was completely free. Behind her, she could still smell the cook fires and hear the conversations of the Gith tribe’s encampment, but all around her looked wild.

One could only see the beauty of the Iron Forest if she stays and watches the bark for a while, because life there is about blending in. Camouflaged, grey flowers hug sides of trees, a metallic lizard marches along a branch, a silver snake slithers across the dull forest floor. A life in monochrome grey causes someone to notice shape and size and texture far before she realizes color. When the forest is seen through that lens, it is more wild and bountiful than any other place in the world. 

A slight movement from the brush caught the attention of the woman. She climbed up into a tall Steelwood, leaving her small horse below in the ground. The young woman heard muted breathing.

The bushes parted, and another woman walked into the clearing. She beat the path in front of her with a stick, scaring the snakes and lizards away. Her black hair was scrunched into a bun behind her head, and her eyes were a grayish-blue hue. She looked around, upturning bushes and broken twigs, until she noticed the small, black horse. “Raven?” The woman hesitantly raised her palm to the horse’s face, flinching as it neighed at her.

A shadow fell from her hiding spot. “What do you want?” The young wolf-kin asked.

The woman jumped in surprise and nearly slipped, clinging onto Raven’s mane to stay afoot. “By the moon, do not do that!” She jabbed the stick into the ground next to her to regain balance. The new woman sighed. “We need you to come with us, Petra. It’s time to leave.” She was wearing a long, dark blue dress that fell down to her ankles. The hem was dirty from stomping along the dirt floor.

“The night’ll be long, Roma.” Petra said. “I don’t have to leave until moonrise.”

“But we need to pack and dress and saddle Raven before leaving. Besides, moonrise is not so far off.” Petra stood there, turning her face away. She is still young, Roma reminded herself. The older woman walked through the thickets and laid a hand on the Petra’s arm. “Please come with me. I’m tired of searching, and Kotor cannot go into battle with a clear conscience unless he knows you are safe.”

Petra’s expression softened immediately at the mention of her brother. After the slightest hesitation, she relaxed her arms and nodded. “Fine.” She finally said. She could begin to see thin rays of white moonlight peak over the far-off horizon. I guess I’ve been out here longer than I thought. The young woman thought as she leapt onto the black horse. “Come up.”

Roma gave a slight smile as she hoisted herself up behind the white-haired girl, seating herself sideways on the horse’s back. She was relieved to be out of the mud. They began to ride. 

Petra frowned at the older woman’s dress and appearance. Her face was pampered with white powder, and her lips glistened with red paste. She always did like humans. Petra thought, seeing the woman push a lock of her hair away from her eyes. “What’s with the dress-up?”

“We must learn how to act and live like humans in Sherton. Our clothing is part of that-” The small horse neighed and reared off the ground as a silver scorpion darted past its hooves. Roma yelped and wrapped her arms tightly around Petra. After a few moments, she let go, embarrassed. “-Oh, goodness, can you keep your horse under control?” She muttered angrily.

“I’ve just about as much control over Raven as you do over me!” Petra jested back. “She only goes with me because she wants to, and that’s all.” Petra dug her heels into the horse’s flanks, and the creature bolted forwards. Thin fingers of branches whipped the young wolf-kin’s face as Raven wove in and out of the thickets. Roma had once again wrapped her arms tightly around the young woman’s chest, keeping her head low and behind the woman’s back. When the two women parted the final underbrush and found themselves in the clearing around the Gith encampment, Petra saw the powder had smeared all around Roma’s face. The young wolf-kin’s own braids have now deteriorated to a frizzy tangle with twigs and leaves, but she took no notice of it. Slowing Raven to a trot, Petra steered the horse towards the center of the camp.

Large, semipermanent houses and huts were stuck into the mud and grass of the clearing. With no clear architectural feature other than a few lumpy openings that constitute their doors, the huts were all draped in deep grey leathers and furs. Some had ancient shields and claw gauntlets that their forefathers bore stitched into their walls. Some had a pieces of human works and stitchings- cloth and bead decorations that were an unusually bright green and yellows, or large, carved planks of wood depicting a woman holding a flower or a man holding the sun. Petra hated the sight of them- if the camp were to be invaded, those houses would surely be raided first. Curiously, the signs and decorations that signified the nurseries had been taken down.

“Heya, Petra!” A young boy, no older than eight, sat atop one of the more sturdy huts waving his hands above his head. “Want me to help saddle Raven for you? Old Halvr said you were needed by the south fire. Are you going to go fight?” His face was freckled and the hair that fell over it was a dirty blonde.

“I wish, chiki.” Petra swung from the black horse, landing on the dusty dirt. She gave a hand to Roma as the woman hopped off of the mount’s back.

“I’ll go find your uncle Halvr and pack your things for you.” Roma told the woman as she shook some dirt from the back of her dress. “We’ll be at the south fire, alright?”

Petra nodded in agreement.

“And, please don’t make me have to search for you again.” The woman smiled. “We both know I’d never find you.”

That’s not a bad idea. Petra thought. Raven puffed out a heavy breath. “It’s fine. I promised I’d come.” The young wolf-kin said. Petra turned to the boy as Roma began to shuffle towards the line of grey huts. “Walk with me, I’ll tell you on the way.”

The boy slid down the side of the hut, vaulting the wooden framework and landing next to the two. He stood a good head beneath the white-haired girl, and looked up with an always grinning face. “So?” He asked as he reached up to take the black horse’s reins. “Where’re you going?”

“Me and uncle Halvr are going to Sherton.” Petra responded, grasping the reins on the right side of Raven.

“Why?” The boy chirped in a high-pitch voice.

“I’m not entirely certain.” The white-haired girl admitted. “I think its for some party or something.”

“A party?” The boy furrowed his brow as he tried to understand the human word. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um, its like a festival.” Petra tried to explain. “Like we have on the solstice, just inside a big building and with many people from other tribes.”

The boy ducked to his right as Raven’s snout blocked his view. “Can I come?” He chirped.

“Not this time, chiki. You have to stay here for the battle. Keep us Gith here safe.” She flashed him a small smile. “Can you do that?”

The boy nodded his head furiously.

“Good.” Petra slowed down as Raven approached the forest clearing which constituted the Gith’s stables. Only three small, brown packhorses were left grazing on the brown turf, and the tree-stump where the stable master usually slept was empty. Where did they all go? Petra frowned at the emptiness. “Do you know where your father went, chiki?” Petra looked down at the kid as he stretched up to untie Raven’s bit. The metal strap slumped beneath the horse’s chin.

“Uh-huh.” The kid nodded. “He said he was hunting something with everyone else.”

Hunting, huh? That’s one way to call it. The wolf-kin were preparing for war, even Petra could see that. The horses were gone, the nurseries’ signs were taken down, and they were sending the Alpha’s heir to a safe place. This battle won’t be the last. And I’ll be stuck in Sherton kissing some noble’s a*s. Petra clenched her fist.

“Hm?” The boy looked past Petra’s shoulder, pulling her out of her dreaming state. “Are they coming back already?”

Petra spun around, looking into the forest. A large group of people was walking towards the village through the foliage. Wait. Petra straightened her gauntlet’s fingers to let her thin claws fall through, coming out above her fingertips. She squinted through the greenery, trying to make the men out, only seeing the tops of their knees as they stomped through the undergrowth. Then, she realized. Our men are all mounted. 

Petra turned to the Gith kid. “RUN!” She shouted as she swung onto Raven’s back. The kid looked up puzzled, until a black ball flew over his head and exploded into flame behind him. His eyes wide, the kid shrieked as he stumbled over himself, sprinting back towards the village. The pack horses panicked and stampeded around the clearing as the fire snaked its way up a slender tree. Petra grabbed her black horse’s reins to try to keep him under control, but nearly fell back from the saddle as the loose bit flew away from the horse’s open jaw. Uncontrolled, Raven reeled and dashed wildly throughout the waking village. Blurs of people she once knew ran slowly next to her clutching their possessions or makeshift weapons. Someone was rolling about, attempting to extinguish the flames along their body in the brown dirt. Petra ducked her head, burying it into Raven’s black coat he leapt into the thorny forest. The village’s screams echoed in the woman’s head as she plunged through the darkness of the Ironwoods.

Author's Note

Like I said in the book review, this is a very rough draft. I just wanted to know if the idea and characters are half-decent, and any other suggestions. This book will have multiple perspectives from characters of different classes. Do you think I should introduce the chapter with their the name of the perspective character? (For this one, I would write "Petra"). Thank you for reading!