Remus and the Wolf - Part One

Remus Elderberry’s backpack danced on his shoulders. The brittle undergrowth crunched beneath his feet. Dangling vines reached out from gnarly trees, clawing at his arms and legs. He could hear the pursuing timber wolf. It was only a matter of time before it caught up.

The Village Elders forbade children from venturing into Eastern Sector without adult protection. At thirteen and a half years of age, Remus no longer considered himself a child, nor subject to their rules. He was a short lean boy with chubby cheeks and funnel nose. His long curly hair was chestnut and hazel eyes gleamed with mischief.

Up ahead he could see an array of golden Elm trees. Fallen leaves carpeted the ground, where a surrey of young chipmunks rough and tumbled. Beyond them stretched the swing-bridge and the pathway leading back to the village.

The swift wolf continued gaining on him. He could hear its snorts and grunts. Though fatigued, he quickened his pace, startling the chipmunks. They scampered to the safety of denser foliage. His heart raced and parched skin baked beneath the late afternoon sunshine. Beads of sweat oozed from his forehead. He thought of his friends, roughhousing and playing in the crisp streams, in the southern end of his village. There was no little doubt in his mind his acquisition was sure to make them envious.

He ran onto the unsteady bridge. It swayed and rocked with his footfall. The rapid Sarcampler River roared and splashed beneath. It sounded angry and impatient for a luckless victim to devour. He stumbled on an unseen object but managed to retain his balance and made it to the other side unharmed.

Down the twisting pathway he fled, into ever denser vegetation. His surroundings dimmed. Fear enveloped his mind, for this area was what locals referred to as the Bos van Het Kwaad. Legends spoke of demonic banshees and forest demons dwelling within.

His time in the Kwaad was short lived and he was soon out the other side, with the wolf still close behind. Leaping over fallen branches and forcing his way between narrow passages between bushes, he kept a steady pace. Soon he was on the final leg of the journey. Through the hedge row he charged and was once again on the lush open meadow that separated Fernmore Village from the forest’s Eastern Sector.

A series of shrills startled Remus. He peered up and saw half a dozen circling eagles. One by one they broke from the pattern and began their descent, as if aircraft dive bombing an enemy ship. He cringed as the closest one neared. It soared over his head and homed in on its target with a loud battle cry.

He could hear the yelping wolf behind, it’s savagery increasing with each peck or cut from the talons of the swooping eagles. He knew they were no match for it, but such interference and confusion proved an invaluable distraction. He hastened on toward the village gates.

“Halt! Who goes there?” bellowed Bondurant, unsheathing his sword when Remus approached. He was a large muscle-bound man, with sallow teeth and long ginger hair reaching down passed his shoulders.

“Me goes there," said Remus, coming to an abrupt halt.

“What mischief occasioned that wolf to chase you?”

“I don’t know. It just started chasing me.”

“Trouble seeks the impish youth and smites them accordingly.”

“Yes sir. Please let me pass; I must see my uncle.”

“The authority and wisdom of “must” belongs the Elders. Speak again and choose your words with care.”

“I have an important message for tell him. If he is not told, bad things will happen to our village, and you will have to answer to the Captain of the Guards for delaying the message.”

“Okay, go see Nikodemus. Do not expect a warm welcome, though. He has been seeking your whereabouts for the past hour with much scorn; something to do with your absence, and certain unfinished chores.”

“Thank you, sir, and I shall also consult the elders on the authority and wisdom of must."

“You do that.”

Remus smiled. He looked back and watched the wolf limp back to the forest. The bloodied remains of one the eagles lay on the grass but the other five had returned to the sky. He drew a heavy sigh, before entering through the village gates and heading east toward the markets.

To be continued