A shriek escaped his lips as the wolf creature leapt forward and bit down on his arm. The bite didn’t hurt, but his arm felt colder than ice. A tear escaped as the cold radiated toward his shoulder.
Saying your full name in this place gives it power over you, the misty wolf said with a warning growl.
Burchard glared at the misty wolf. First it asked him who he was and then it bit him for saying his name, which made no sense whatsoever.
Call me Eos, the misty wolf said quietly.
Eos, Burchard thought, trying to keep his words only in his mind and not as a projection. Why does that sound oddly familiar?
Burchard was about to ask Eos if they’d met before when suddenly he started to shake. But it was almost as though someone was shaking him.
What is going on? he asked, concern clear.
Goodbye, Burchard. I will see you soon, Eos said.
Everything went black.
4
Rough hands shook him. Groaning, Burchard was surprised he felt what could be a bed underneath his prone body. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing as cold still pierced through the arm Eos had bitten.
A familiar face with a full pewter-gray beard and black hair with gray streaks in it peered at him with a worried frown. “You’re awake!”
“I’m alive?” asked Burchard in a whisper before realizing it was his father’s face hovering that close. He’s worried about me?
“You took quite a tumble down the steps,” his father replied somberly, his hands folded in his lap.
The memory of what happened came crashing down. Burchard struggled to push himself up out of bed. “The wounded!” It came out as more of a croak than the intended shout.
Gently, the General pushed on Burchard’s shoulders until he stopped fighting and lay all the way down. “You and Ruschmann arrived in time, and Sir Daniel is recovering well. He’s just at the other end of this room, in fact.”
“Was there a wolf?” Burchard asked.
The General looked at his son sharply. “There are no wolves here, save for the one on my standard. You need to rest. In a few more days, you should be able to return to light duty.”
“Days?” Burchard mumbled, his eyes wide.
Instead of responding, the General stood up and made a motion with his hand. “I am needed elsewhere, son, but perhaps Ruschmann can fill you in on what has happened and can answer your questions.” With that, the General departed.
Taking a deep breath and wincing as his bruised ribs protested, Burchard gazed at his best friend waiting by the foot of the bed. “I have so many questions. How long have I been asleep for?”
Ruschmann gave him a hesitant smile. “Three days.”
“Three days!” Burchard yelped.
“Yes…but please calm down. As the General said and I think you recall…you were hit by the door, and you fell down all of the stone stairs. Before that, we were in a skirmish. Wounds take time to heal.”
“I thought I was dead,” Burchard whispered.
Ruschmann gave him a quizzical look. “Dead? Why would you think that?”
“I was in a strange, misty place,” Burchard explained with a shrug. He opened his mouth to say more, but the words wouldn’t come out. He started to hack instead. Ruschmann handed him a glass of water. Burchard took it gratefully. After taking a few sips, he opened his mouth to try again and once again began coughing. Strange. It’s almost as though I’m being prevented from talking about it.
“Are you OK?” Ruschmann gave him a concerned look.
Burchard nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine…so if I’ve been asleep for three days, what’s happened?”
“Nothing terribly exciting, I assure you.” Ruschmann paused. “The General ordered me to report to Sir Peter while Sir Daniel is recovering. Mostly I have been running errands for him.”
“Did they find my prisoner?” Burchard asked.
Ruschmann laughed. “Yes, they found the prisoner. I think your father has forgiven you for leaving without permission since you are the only person to have captured one of the rebels.”
Burchard looked away, not sure if he was willing to believe Ruschmann. His father did not easily forgive, especially with matters involving Burchard. The only way he would know for sure would be to confront his father about it. Burchard knew he sometimes did stupid things, but he was not sure he wanted to remind his father that he had disobeyed him.
Ruschmann’s calloused hand on his arm drew his attention back to his friend. “Your prisoner has provided some very useful information. It appears the bandit attacks, including the one you experienced when you delivered the letter to the farmer, have been Stinyian rebels trying to create chaos. I believe the General now has the evidence he has been searching for to justify attacking the Stinyian rebel base.”
“Good. Hopefully we will finally see some action,” Burchard said excitedly.
“You’ve already seen action, and look where you ended up,” chided Ruschmann.
Rolling his eyes, Burchard retorted, “Yeah, action by door. There is nothing you could do that would keep me from going.”
A cough sounded from behind Burchard’s bed. Burchard twisted, trying to see who it was. His knight master, Sir Peter, was standing there. “You may be right that Ruschmann cannot prevent you from going, but the General or I most certainly could order you to stay here.”
Eyes widening, Burchard looked at Sir Peter in shock. “You wouldn’t do that!”
