A Game of Thrones - Winter Chills | AGameOfThrones-WinterChills / Marshend: An Unexpected Visitor:Into the Marsh browse

{Continued from Marshend: An Unexpected Visitor)

The tunnel led through darkness for some way, but the air smelled comparatively fresh. At last it seemed to slope upwards, and become lower at the same time, so that Catriona and Gabriel were both forced to walked hunched up, to avoid banging their heads. At last, they found themselves directly under a stout wooden trapdoor above their heads, locked. The tunnel itself went on, but this seemed to be their point of exit. A key opened it, and they climbed out - pushing aside a weight of dead leaves and other detritus that had masked the other side of the trapdoor.

Once they were clear, Catriona could see that it had been cunningly built into the floor of a large hollow tree - a blasted oak (the kind of tree that often attracted the sort of unpleasant legends that caused local people to avoid such places.

"Was putting the trapdoor into this blasted oak your idea, or someone else's?" Catriona inquired. "It's a brilliant location for an escape route."

"I can't take the credit," Keary said. "It was Charity's idea. I had seven helpers, you see... now six. I named them after knightly virtues."

"Seven helpers that you named?" Catriona inquired. "Why did you name them? And what happened to one of them?" She quickly added, "Unless it's none of my business, that is."

"There were seven," Keary said. "They needed aliases. We decided on some of the knightly virtues. We thought we were all terribly clever, at the time." He paused. "We lost Hope, not long ago. The king's men never got her. But running from them, the marsh claimed her."

They were on a slight slope. Looking out, the could see the distant gleam of light over the waters of the Long Lake, but between them and the open water were thick, dense reed beeds and them here are there, tuccky islands that marked the misty marshes that gave Marshend its names (and many of its people their livelihoods).

The marshes were surprisingly large - even if the Lake could be glimpsed distantly, the marshes were perhaps fifteen miles long at this point - and perhaps twice as wide. A secret, hidden place - where a small army might hide.

"People get lost here all the time," Keary said, covering the trapdoor behind them. "There are few safe paths through this marsh... and those change regularly. My next secret is to guide you through one." He looked back towards the town, then said, "To the left, here... the boat is this way."

While the ground still looked solid, Catriona took a few steps towards the left. Keeping in mind Keary's comments about the treachery of the path, she stopped and waited for him to take the lead again as soon as the turf became boggier. She followed him through a winding route that finally led them to a small beach where a small boat was stowed upside-down in the reeds.

The two quickly flipped over the boat, and set it into the water. Catriona climbed into the bow and picked up one of the paddles while Keary pushed them into slightly deeper water before clambering inside himself.

"Which way?" she inquired.

"This way," he said, pointing. "To the north and west."

He led them through the wetter parts of the marsh- areas that had standing water and high grass. It was nearly impossible to tell direction, if not for the sun overhead, but Keary seemed to know where they were going.

The insects were a misery. Clouds of them, even in the cold and the damp.

Catriona pulled her hood closer about her in a vain effort to keep the insects away from her ears.

They came to a point where they had to portage over small islands of the tall wet grass, and these stops came more and more frequent. Keary began checking the makeshift map.

"We're about ten miles west of the Lake," he said. "And about ten miles north of where we started. We moved away from safe paths a few hours ago. Things are different here than I remember them."

Different from the map too, it seemed - which suggested that it was more than a few years old. Keary thought that he could remember a few of the paths on the maps, but they were long gone, and now he had to rely on his wits and his considerable marshlore.

They were both hunters, these two, yet both also knew what it was to be hunted in their turn - and as they went deeper and deeper into the dryer part of the marsh, in their different ways they became aware of an uncomfortable sensation of being watched ...

Catriona paused, surveying the surrounding landscape. The ground on which they stood was considerably less marshy than the earlier terrain. A slight prickling at the back of her neck told her something was amiss. But everywhere she turned, there was nothing to be seen but marshland.

She asked Keary if she might check the map. As she looked over it with him, she murmured softly. "I think we're being stalked." She gestured at a spot on the map, then pointed back in the direction they had come. In a voice that would carry further than their grassy island, she declared, "We missed the trail. We have to head back to the old stump."

Handing the map back to Keary, she backtracked, one hand idling lazily against her sword hilt. She strode purposefully, her eyes scanning the horizon. The old stump in question was about a 10 minutes' walk.

As she stepped back across a small channel onto a drier island, a dark shape erupted from the reeds on an adjacent island to the east. In one smooth motion, Catriona's blade was unsheathed and the hunter was standing in a defensive posture. She let out a soft laugh as the object of her agitation, a grey heron, flew away with a reproachful "fraack".

As she resheathed her weapon, she glanced back at Keary, and smiled sheepishly. She was about to recross the water when something caught her eye. She knelt down for a closer look. Pressed into the wet mud were two sets of fresh pawprints. Very large pawprints. One led in the direction they had been originally travelling, and the other headed in the opposite direction.

"The Others take me," she swore softly. "These are the largest wolfprints I've seen this far south." For a moment it seemed as if Catriona was about to say more, but she merely shook her head, a wry expression on her face.

Swatting away the swarm of insects that surged towards her face in search of food, she searched the ground for other signs. From a still damp pawprint on a rock, she surmised that the animal had headed to the west shortly beforehand. "Shall we follow, or continue onto your objective?" she asked Keary.

Keary frowned at the tracks for a long time. "That's the largest wolf I've ever seen," he said. "If it's a wolf at all. We can't afford to get caught in a bog and be slowed down with two of those sniffing around. Best to see where they're going first."

As they moved to the west, the feeling of being watched intensified. Once, as Catriona turned, she thought she saw a dark shadow movving through the reed beds away to their right. But then the wind blew. shaking the reeds lightly, and suddenly there was nothing. They moved on.

Soon they came to a clearing in the marsh - but it had a strange appeareance. the reed and grasses appeared to have been broken down into a strange whorling shape - like a circle. Yet in the centre, a single circular patch of reeds grew straight and small. There was a feeling of stuffiness in the air - and profound discomfort.

And suddenly, from behind them, they heard a low growl ...

Ever so slowly, Catriona turned to face the beast. Her hand strangled her sword hilt, but she refrained from drawing the blade. As she moved, she edged slightly to one side, to avoid standing between the animal and the untouched patch of reeds before them.

Confrionting her was not a wolf, for it was larger than any wolf she had ever seen. It was a direwolf - its lips drawn back from its fangs as it snarled at her.

It had been wounded, she could see. A long slash on its flank that had festered and turned bad - the beast must be half out of its mind with pain. It was dying, that was clear - but it still had every intention of accomplishing her death - and Keary's too - before it had to face its own.

Keary's breath drew in with a rush as he turned. Hand at his own belt, he began edging away from Catriona, away and to the left, to give the beast two targets to face.

But as he stepped carefully away, he heard another growl - to his left, and almost behind him ...

Catriona's jaw clenched at the sound of the second beast. Keeping the first direwolf in view, she strained to catch sight of the second with her peripheral vision. In a soft grim voice she spoke, "I'll feint for the wounded, but lunge for the other." In a slow steady motion that seemed to stretch out the seconds of time, she drew her sword, her muscles tensed to begin the dance at the first sign of motion from either animal.

"I'll watch your back," Keary said, his hand closing around the hilt of his own short sword.

The second beast was older, she could see. Its muzzle was grey - not a natural colouring, for she could see that it had once been very dark, almost black - an unusual colour for a direwolf. It was creeping forward, growling all the while, its belly low to the ground.

Suddenly the wounded direwolf that cronfronted them made a sudden dash forward, heading straight for Catriona, snarling with fury at the invaders of its territory.

As the direwolf attacked, Catriona feinted towards it, but she then suddenly lunged to her right instead, her blade shifting in a thrust towards the older beast.

Startled, it tried to dodge back, but not quite quickly enough to avoid a long slashing blow that scored a deep red line along its flank. A howl of pain, and then it charged back at her, fully intent this time.

Keary waited for Catriona's feint, then drew his blade in a flash of movement, ready to take the charge of the wounded direwolf.

The wounded direwolf was streaking toward him but as its companion howled, it tried to veer around him and charge for Catriona instead, making the mistake (perhaps) of seeing her as the primary danger ...

Catriona focused her attention on the older direwolf, trusting in Keary's word. As the black-furred beast charged her, she held her sword at the ready, prepared to lash out in another attack at the earliest opportunity.

She struck a blow that drew another howl, and the wolf limped back, snarling at her, favouring one front paw while the other dripped blood. It was by no means deated - but this could be an opportunity to press her attack.

Keary drew his sword and thrust in one easy motion as the direwolf passed him. Knowing that the tensed muscles and thick fur of its neck and chest were a chancy target, he aimed for the legs and joints instead.

And he felt the sense of contact - a thrust, a twist - and the direwolf collapsed back on its haunches, snarling. It seemed he had hamstrung the beast - but that would make it no easier to kill - in fact, in its rage and pain, it was perhaps more dangerous.

As her opponent fell back, Catriona pushed forward. She manuevered to attack on the wolf's stronger side, with a flicker of motion of her blade towards that side. Suddenly she pivoted to thrust towards the wolf's chest on the opposite side, hoping to catch the beast off balance as it tried to manuever with a weakened limb.

And it was off-balance - her blade sank into its chest. Howling with pain, it tried to twist and turn, to drive her off - and the great jaws, reddened with blood, were snapping with bone-crushing force within a handspan of her own hand ...

Catriona stepped towards the direwolf's flank, pushing her sword hand in the same direction. As she tried to lever her hand further from the beast's jaws, she hoped her sword would internally wreak more damage.

And Keary was suddenly there on the other side, running around the beast to strike from the other direction...

A single savage blow, easily delivered while the beast was more occupied with trying to savage Catriona - and the direwolf was dead. Its companion, crippled by Keary's earlier attack, nevertheless hauled intself onto three legs, snarling at the two of them and dragging itself into the attack, determined to defend this place beyond all reason.

Placing one foot against the direwolf's corpse, Catriona wrenched her sword free from its chest. She spun towards the other animal, positioning herself opposite Keary. Blood dripped from her blade as she slashed towards the beast's chest and legs.

It veered away from her, back towards Keary...

...who responded with a cartwheel to get out of the way, slashing as he did so with his shorter sword.

Catriona drove forward, pressing the attack from her side as the beast's attention was occupied by Keary's blade.

Keary's slashing cut sent the beast sideways, full onto Catriona's blade ... a struggle - a kicking - and then it was dead too.

For a moment, all was silent it seemed, apart from the wind sighing in the marsh grasses, and the sound of their own ragged breathing.

And then, towards one side of the clearing, there was the faintest rustle in the reeds - and, almost as faint, a whimper.

Catriona froze for a moment, her eyes scanning for motion. She then softly crept towards the reeds, seeking the source of the sound.

The whimpering was replaced by a soft growl - low and close to her feet - but she could now distinguish one particularly thick clump of reeds where it seemed to be coming from.

Keary, wiping the blood off his blade, said, "That sounds... different."

"Agreed," Catriona replied. She cleaned off her own blade while keeping an eye on the reeds. "I might regret this in a minute...." She sheathed her sword, then crouched down adjacent to the reeds. She picked up a loose twig from the ground, and used it to gently part the reeds above the source of the sounds.

The growling intensified ... and then Catriona found herself gazing down at two young direwolf pups, old enough to have opened their eyes, but young enough to still be unsteady on their feet. But their colouring was striking - one had a coat so dark that it could almost be black, whereas the other was of a grey so pale it was almost silver. The contrast was startling as the two crouched down, still growling as they did their best to respond to the unknown threat.

"Hello there," Catriona said softly. "It looks like our search yielded an unexpected find, Keary."

Keeping her eyes on the pups she rummaged in her beltpouch with one hand until she succeeded in pulling out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. She unfolded it to reveal some dried strips of meat. She split one of the pieces in two, handed that half to Keary, then returned the rest to her pouch.

Kneeling closer, Catriona held out her offering of meat with one hand. In a soothing voice she spoke. "It's OK. This might not be milk-flavored, but it's the best we can do on short notice. We won't hurt you."

"Thanks," Keary said, kneeling down beside her. Even as he offered his own treat, his brow was furrowed. "Direwolves... and pups. Like ancient legends are springing out of the grass. Ever seen one before today?"

"Further north, in the forest near the Gorge, I've seen tracks," she recalled. "Whoever would have thought we would have come across them here, and with pups at that? I suppose winter really is coming."

The black pup continued to crouch down, snarling, but the silver pup paused to sniff the meat and then butted its head forward, hopefully. Its sibling snapped at it, as though to discourage it, but the silver direwolf was not disconcerted and pushed its head closer to the meat, parting its jaws to grasp it and tug at it in an attempt to pull it free. Small as it was, the strength of those jaws was already apparent.

Catriona's merriment echoed in her laughter. "At least the silver likes us...or at least our meat. The black's either a suspicious little bugger -- not without good cause -- or is holding out for another enticement."

She continued to offer her meat strip, but her free hand rummaged in her pouch for another treat. She succeeded in breaking off a bit of biscuit, and held that towards the black pup instead. "Perhaps this is more to your tastes?" she inquired.

The pup stopped growling for a moment, seeing its paler sibling nibbling on the meat that Keary held out to it. Curious, it moved forward and sniffed at the biscuit that Catriona was holding. It reached forward and took a bite, then ducked back, chewing. Finding it good, it moved forward again - a larger bite.

Soon both pups were feeding - the silver from Keary, and the black from Catriona who, finding the biscuit good, decided not to disdain the meat as well.

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