Volume One: The Forest Knight Chapter 13: The Wolf Arrives

It turned out that Berion, in order to boost the soldiers’ enthusiasm for training, issued weekly wages to them. Though the amount was modest, it was almost unbelievable for these serfs and free farmers, for in this era a lord rarely paid his levied subjects for military service; at best, he might reward them with some gifts. Yet Berion paid them even as they trained.

Not only that, Berion provided meat at every meal. He knew that intense physical training required abundant, quality protein. There were only a few horses and mules in Nolanburg, and these valuable beasts could not be slaughtered. Thus, Berion had Baring and his four fellow hunters return to their old trade, while he and Mark led the women to winter fish in the nearby Karl River.

The Karl River, the largest in the northern reaches of the Principality of Brick, originated from the southern slopes of the Misty Mountains. It flowed mainly through the sovereign county and the province of Yanviksho. Most of its upper and middle reaches ran through dense forests, where the ecology was well preserved and fish were plentiful. Though the river was capped by thick ice, Berion, who had in his previous life learned winter fishing in the northeast, knew that breaking holes in the ice would bring forth many fish. Most of his subjects, hailing from the warmer south, did not know this.

After Berion and Mark hacked several holes in the ice with axes and hammers, schools of fish gathered near the openings. With their homemade nets, they caught several fish in one go. The women from the south were astonished and asked Berion how he knew such a method, even wondering if he had used magic.

To dispel their doubts, Berion explained: fish need to breathe, and with the river iced over, the water held too little air for the fish to survive. By opening holes in the ice, air entered, and the fish flocked to the holes to breathe; all they had to do was scoop them out.

With this method, Berion and his team quickly filled five wooden buckets, totaling nearly a hundred large fish, each weighing over two pounds. Berion led the group back happily with the cart, surprising the soldiers in training—how could they catch so many fish at once? When Berion knocked on the fish-filled buckets and announced they were for everyone to eat, the soldiers were overjoyed; there would be more than enough for each person.

Berion ordered Mark and the cooks to vary the preparations—grilled fish, fried fillets, smoked fish—so they wouldn’t tire of the same dish, rotating recipes every few days.

Berion’s fishing party had daily success, but Baring’s hunting group was less fortunate. Though they hunted and set traps daily, sometimes luck brought them a wild boar and some fowl, other times only a rabbit or a squirrel caught by mistake—neither valuable for meat nor fur.

In the bitter cold, raising livestock was impractical. Berion planned, once spring arrived, to renovate Nolanburg and designate an area for animal husbandry, ensuring a stable source of meat through winter fishing and farming.

After a week, Baring’s group finally made a major catch: two wild wolves and a six-hundred-pound wild boar. A lone boar, wounded in one leg by their trap, encountered three wolves while fleeing. The injured boar was savaged by the wolves, and then discovered by Baring’s party—true fortune. The five hunters shot together, killing two wolves on the spot; the third escaped. They returned with their bounty.

Berion was delighted, not only for the boar meat, which would suffice for a month of stew for the whole castle, but for the two relatively intact wolf pelts. In this era, wolf skins were more valuable than deer skins because of the martial spirit among the knightly class. It was a mark of valor among nobles to wear clothing or armor lined with wolf fur—instead of the barbaric practice of displaying human heads. Most nobles never hunted wolves themselves, but they nonetheless prized wolf pelts.

Wolf fur was also exceptionally warm and moisture resistant; nobles and merchants liked to use it for cloaks and bedcovers. Because wolves were pack animals and hard to hunt, even a common adult wolf pelt with an arrowhole or two could fetch three hundred dinars in Vallombrey. Rare, pure-colored pelts could command prices up to a thousand dinars. The two wolves Baring brought back, aside from a couple arrow wounds, were undamaged—worth at least six hundred dinars.

There was a furrier in the castle. Berion instructed him to carefully skin and preserve the pelts for sale in spring, and rewarded Baring’s party with ten silver coins, encouraging them to bring in more valuable game. This thrilled the hunters, giving them new motivation. There was plenty of meat, though wild boar and wolf were not the tastiest, but Berion insisted the kitchen waste nothing edible. He needn’t worry; these commoners cherished food far more than the noble classes.

The Fire God is fair: granting you a generous gift, he demands a return. That very night, as Berion and his people feasted and drank, the wolf pack to which the two slain wolves belonged launched a night assault on Nolanburg.

The first two hunting dogs brought back from Amondin were well cared for by Iomir, regularly fed meat. Their new owner’s generosity soon overcame their fear of the unfamiliar surroundings, and they grew lively. The dogs were gentle and didn’t bite, so Berion had not ordered Iomir to keep them leashed. This decision spared Nolanburg from its first attack.

That night, as the masters ate and drank indoors, the two hounds, full and back in their kennel by the lumber shed, suddenly grew alert and began to growl. The four sentry posts were manned, but the guards were distracted by roasted fish and river stew, failing to notice the commotion at the wooden wall, where wolves were digging holes, preparing to launch a surprise assault.

The dogs' barking made the wolves pause, but seeing the humans in the arrow towers still eating, they resumed digging. The agitated hounds, perceiving imminent danger, rushed into Berion’s manor and barked furiously at those inside. At first, people thought they were hungry and tossed them some bones. But the dogs refused to eat, instead grabbing Iomir’s sleeve and tugging him outside. Berion sensed something was wrong and, needing to relieve himself, went out with Iomir to investigate.

As they neared the wall, they heard earth being dug and wood gnawed. Not having drunk much, both quickly became alert. Stealthily climbing the wooden wall, they peered over, using the torches hung on the battlements, and were shocked: below were more than thirty wild wolves, digging in small groups, ready to enter the castle.

Berion immediately understood—the family of the slain wolves was here for revenge. Wolves in this era had strong vengeance instincts; they did not let grudges linger overnight. Berion and Iomir hurried down, quietly gathered everyone, and assigned tasks. Bess, Tur, and Iomir led fifteen spearmen, lying in ambush beneath the wall to spear any wolves entering. Berion, five hunters, and fifteen longbowmen took positions atop the wall, ready to shoot the wolves below.

Perhaps the noise was too great, or the wolves caught a scent; suddenly, the pack paused and began to look around warily. The already quiet night grew even more silent. Berion quickly signaled Iomir with his eyes and glanced at the two hounds. Iomir understood, patted the dogs, and they began barking again. Hearing the dogs, the wolves relaxed and resumed digging.

The wolves dug five holes. As soon as their heads appeared, Nolanburg’s spearmen speared them dead and dragged them out. The pack, seeing the attack, did not retreat but rushed forward, only to be speared before they could fully emerge. The leader, sensing danger, howled—a signal to retreat. As they exited, a rain of arrows fell from above, halting their advance. Berion’s emphasis on rapid fire training for the archers paid off; the longbowmen quickly fired two volleys, killing and wounding several wolves. In the end, only the alpha and six or seven others escaped.

After the wolves departed, Berion had Baring and the archers remain on the wall, while he and Iomir led the spearmen outside, finishing off any injured wolves with axes and swords to prevent them from harming anyone. One could never be too cautious with such cunning and vicious beasts.

Dragging the wolf carcasses inside, Berion counted twenty-three, plus the two from the day, making twenty-five pelts. However, these pelts were damaged; the powerful longbows had pierced the wolves clean through, doubling the holes. Still, the pelts would fetch over seven thousand dinars—Berion’s capital for developing his domain had grown.

While Berion and his men cleaned the wolf carcasses, Mark arrived with the craftsmen. Berion told the two carpenters, “You’ll have to work hard tonight, repairing the damaged wall. We can’t guarantee the wolves won’t return, so make the repairs strong and check for any loose or broken timbers; replace them all. This concerns everyone’s safety—I’ll inspect it myself.” The carpenters accepted, and Berion had Bess find several soldiers to help, both to supervise and speed up the work.

After assigning the carpenters, Berion gave tasks to the two stonemasons. The wolf pack’s attack had exposed the vulnerability of the wooden fortress, but with winter’s chill, rebuilding was impossible. The stonemasons were to reinforce the wall’s base with stone, preventing wolves from digging through again. This was important, so Berion had Iomir lead the soldiers and stonemasons in the work.

Nolanburg had only one furrier, now faced with the task of skinning and processing twenty-five pelts. Seeing his troubled expression, Berion, hands still stained with wolf’s blood, patted his shoulder. “I won’t let you handle this alone. All the women and children in the domain will help you—processing meat and pelts alike.”

Then Berion said to Mark, “I’ll leave this matter to you, my chief steward.”

Mark laughed, “You can rely on me, young master Berion.”

After all was arranged, Berion addressed the soldiers who had fought the wolves that night: “Brothers, your bravery tonight protected yourselves and your families, and earned Nolanburg a fortune. Each of you will be rewarded three dinars! For your valor!”

The soldiers, atop and below the wall, cheered, shouting, “Thank you, Sir Berion!”

Berion then pointed to the two hounds: “Tonight, these two dogs deserve the greatest credit. Without them, we might have lost many lives to the wolves. From today, a patrol squad will be formed, led by Iomir, with the primary task of patrolling with the hounds to prevent such incidents.”

He knelt, stroked the hounds, and said, “These two dogs will have meat every day from now on, and their kennel must be properly fixed—our heroes deserve comfort.”

Iomir was delighted. “No need for them to sleep in the kennel anymore; they can sleep with me,” he said, hugging the dogs.

Berion kicked him playfully. “I don’t care, as long as you take good care of them.”

After the rewards, Berion’s expression grew serious. “Tonight, the sentries from the northeast and southeast arrow towers, step forward.”