Book 1 Chapter 9: Training Before the Approach of Winter

Vero knew he was in trouble when he saw the flash of blade dart in front of his eyes. He yelped and slid on the mud. As he felt all his aches protest at the thump on the ground, he heard the sheathing of a blade and looked up at the stanch figure of Ulrika Ylva. She reached out and helped him to stand.

As she began lecturing him on keeping his eyes focused on things other than his balance, he let his mind wander. She had taken Filtiarn’s disappearance fairly well, though his bruises disagreed. Granted for the first bit she had refused to budge from her favorite spot in the window alcove. The following day, she had avoided him and he had set about to tidying her’s and the Master’s room. Lightly furnished with fairly plain furniture, it fit the two. After arranging things nicely and cleaning up some things, he had found her outside training, though with weapons he had never seen her use before.

She swapped multiple times and he was throughly impressed with her skills, but judging from her expression she was displeased. Finally she had scoffed and threw the weapons down in disgust, muttering how she had gotten lazy and plump ‘as the fool’ had mentioned on their wedding night. He expected her to call the master something, but fool had caught him off guard and he had chuckled at it. She had found his reaction not as amusing, and then begun to drill him and scare the living daylights out of him every chance they had after that.

What surprised him most was that she also had insisted on continuing her education on etiquette and proprietary, along with history and all manner of noble recourse. Her fastidiousness to studying amazed him, and he felt the need to train as much as he could. It was rather energizing, if not a sore way to conduct his life.

And it continued this way for the next month, late into the last rainy season. Soon the dry spell would come and then the snows.

With this in mind, Vero began his winter chores of collecting firewood, and preparing water storage. Ylva insisted on helping, saying it was good exercise. He relented only after she disguised herself so no one would know that one of the Ulrikans was out and about, chopping wood. It was a matter of not having too much gossip spread.

At the first frost, Vero felt pleased. They had prepped many of the necessities, including the kitchens, to get through the winter. He had never felt more fit and strong, no small part due to Ylva’s training regime that he admitted, felt quite good. She had shown excellent manners when he asked, or situation dictated. But she also had a very somber mood. It had been a few months now since her wedding, and Filtiarn was due to return soon, but it was anyone’s guess as to when he would show.

They sat around the table one fine afternoon, quietly eating, the mood somber and still. Their chores were completed and the duties required of them for decorum had been met. The meal was fine, but without the cheery atmosphere to go with it, it was unsurprisingly unappealing. Just as Ylva was about to excuse herself, the doors slammed as they opened wide, hitting the walls.

Vero, through his training with Ylva, remained calm and unconsciously began to take note of the situation. Ylva in turn also seemed to settle into her chair as if nothing was going on. Vero counted at least ten dark-clad figures that had stormed in the room and his ears picked up several more sounds in the halls. Vero silently thanked the black wolf god that he had been training under Ylva. It allowed him to remain calm and a bit confident in the situation. She was by far a strict mentor and no doubt could defend herself, but he was grateful that he wouldn’t have to burden her with protecting himself as well.

Thinking of that, he wondered how so many had entered and made their way here? Had the guards been beaten, slacking, or perhaps they had not seen these intruders. Whatever the case, they seemed to target Ylva, no doubt having no idea that she was an elite warrior and could beat most if not all of the guards herself. It probably provided the master with some relief to know that his wife would not be in any danger from physical assaults.

“Put your hands up,” one of them said harshly.

“Who are you to think you can order me?” Ylva asked before eating another bite. Vero noted her return in appetite, or rather her pretense.

“You dare defy us?” another of the men said angrily. Ylva looked him and he nodded, slightly. He watched Ylva smile and put her hands up. She rose and stood silently before turning to face the one that was behind her. Vero did the same. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Ylva’s motions, waiting for her reaction.

“Come with us,” one of the figures said, motioning for them to move. Ylva stood still for a moment, long enough to get their attention. Before they could say anything, she shifted into her white wolf form and barreled into the figures in front of her. This caused an eruption of chaos to ensue and Vero brought out his claw weapons and began to fight in the fray. He made his way to Ylva and the two fought off the attackers. Vero noted that more were coming from the hallway and he wondered just how many would appear. It seemed endless as he struck one down, two more sprung up.

Perhaps they had overrun the guards with sheer numbers, he mused before concentrating again on the assailant.

While in the midst of an attack, Vero felt a searing heat race down his back and he howled out in pain. He fell to one knee and then dropped to the ground. Through his blurring vision he noticed Ylva dash over, knocking over the few figures that had gotten in between them and stood protectively over him, snarling at the intruders. Vero felt his body going numb and he curled up, trying hard to remain conscious despite the pain and numbing. Before he could clear his head he felt something grab him by the neck. Surprisingly it didn’t hurt and he felt like he was hauled out of the fray and set down somewhere. The noise faded and the last thing he sensed was warmth and then a rough lick on his back.