Saturday, February 27, 2016

The Trials of Piersyn Wyne, Part 3

I have been delayed again: the people of Combe very nearly begged for me to help them in the face of the rising threat of the Blackwolds and I could not walk away from them, since I was brought up as a boy here.

I succeeded in defeating the Blackwolds' leader, but I must admit I am rather shaken by the experience. I thought they were nothing more than a rag-tag bunch of ruffians. And maybe they were, but if so then they have aligned themselves with something far more powerful. I encountered some of the Blackwolds' new allies in the depths of their headquarters in the North Chetwood, and what I saw and felt there I cannot really explain. Perhaps there is something to the ravings of those Rangers after all.

One other thing I should probably record here: as I struck down Jagger Jack, the Blackwolds' wolf-master, he said to me, "You will never win this war, Gondorian." I laughed at him as he passed -- surely it was nothing but the ravings of a dying man.

A hard rain has begun falling. I returned to the Comb and Wattle to recover from my ordeal. Despite my training and the brigands' total lack of discipline, I was wounded in the leg by one of their filthy wolf half-breeds. The wound is not bad, but it will slow me down in returning to father with my reports from Archet and Combe, and I am already long away. But, with the weather turning foul and my leg in no condition to carry me back to town, I should rest a bit and not push myself too hard.

No comments:

Post a Comment