Bane of the Wolves

Chapter Four - Audience

Chapter Four - Audience

 THE LAST OF the polished homes that lined the wide road of the Gamma faction, which forked into different avenues, turned into tall trees skirting along a straight and narrow road. I stared out the carriage window, watching the forest scenery smear together into dull, muddy colors of greens and browns. The rhythmic click-clacking of the horse's hooves and crunchy gravel that rolled beneath the wheels interrupted the silence in the carriage. As I continued to gaze at the swirl of drab colors, my mind drifted.

An audience with the King.

The Wolf King, Aldrich II, was crowned forty years ago and has been resigning over this Kingdom that his great-great-great-grandfather built. His grandfather, the Great Wolf. A wolf that banded with other wolves, leading them into the war with humans. As their history told, winning against the humans of that time that wanted to slaughter them.

"We wanted peace, to not hide any longer, but your kind, your ancestors, wanted war. They attacked first, and we had to defend ourselves."

I was a naive child that didn't see any wrongs in the Wolves' retelling of history, nor in the way, they told us we should live. I couldn't comprehend much, but maybe that's why they wanted us to be taught by the Wolves instead of humans from our sixth to sixteenth year. They wanted to drill in their stories, their so-called history.

However, the truth isn't what they taught me, but the whispers of tales my grandmother told me. Bedtime stories, she gently voiced late at night, her boney arms secured around me as she shared them.

"I had them passed down to me, and now to you. These are more than tales, but lessons you must remember."

She often ended her stories with these words. I didn't understand. They were children's stories to me, or at least that's how they were supposed to appear. These stories held a deeper meaning, even though they seemed innocent. They held the truth about the Wolves that they would rather keep hidden. A history they didn't want to share.

A dark history.

At that thought, I fisted my hands, the rope twisting into my wrist producing a sharp inhale. I shifted in the overly comfortable seat, so strange for me who is used to a solid or lumpy cushion. I leaned forward, eyes squinted as something black flitted through the dull colors, but when I took a closer look it was gone. Strange. I leaned back into the seat, eyes drifting down.

A King sets the laws that everyone abides by, especially us. I learned these laws have been in place from the beginning and not one King over the time changed anything. Although, they were never truly our King. The Wolves praised their Kings. Even if all of them weren't as noble or a just man: "-not like the current reigning King."

But to me, this King is just like the rest of his lineage. He's a wolf prancing in human skin, a beast-like his loyal subjects. He sits on a throne where all lies begin and can end if he wills it. Yet, he doesn't do anything to change the laws or the human way of life. A life that so many just believe is decent to live.

"Almost there,"

I am pulled from my thoughts, blurry eyes flickering to the man sitting across from me. His wolfish eyes are closed, his arms crossed over one another, and his chin touching his chest. He looked to be resting, but I knew he wasn't. I narrowed my eyes, his nostrils flared, and his wolf eyes snapped open.

"You reek," he said suddenly.

I glared.

"And you don't?" I retorted.

I wrinkled my nose to prove my point. His only response was a 'hmm', eyes closing as he repeated his earlier statement.

"Almost there,"