The Iron Wolves by Andy Remic Read Free Book Online Page A

in the vast, sweeping wilderness, camping in hide tents and warring often amongst themselves. The tribes were fluid, often exterminating other tribes, sometimes absorbing members into their own. None numbered more than several hundred, for often they fought, and could never forgive other tribes’ long past blood feuds and death pacts.
    The Horsenail tribe were one of the largest groups of Kreell who hunted the borders of Zakora. They were feared as vicious warriors who took no prisoners, raped the women of opposing tribes and beheaded children.
    Benkai Tal, their chief, was a large man, his long black beard braided, a horned brass warhelm atop his shaggy head; he wore a mixture of silks and leather, and sat astride his heavy charger as if he owned the world. He certainly had little to fear in these remote borderlands.
    On this cold morning, the camp was in transit. A little over two hundred mounted tribesmen, riding a mixture of heavy war chargers and geldings, with a few scattered ponies. To the rear followed twelve carts, each pulled by six oxen. The carts contained women, children, supplies, tents, extra weapons and armour, and anything else the nomadic people might require.
    Benkai Tal’s warriors rode in an inverted V formation, with Benkai proud at the head. He was not a leader who led from the back; but more a born warrior who beheaded his enemies and impaled their bodies on spears. He was a man of few words, and had four wives and fifteen children. His senior men joked that one of Benkai’s wives had cut out his tongue to stop the other women becoming jealous of his moans during loving; but they never said it within earshot.
    They approached the Sudar Valley with care. They were in no rush, and Benkai sent scouts out across the surrounding low hills to check for signs of possible ambush. He was a wary man. One had to be, even within one’s own tribe.
    They entered the valley, and distant horn blasts signalled safe passage. The wind howled mournfully between the hills, stirring the dusty trail which wound between huge boulders, many times bigger than the carts which carried their families and possessions.
    Here, the wedge of mounted men was forced inwards, and the warriors shifted smoothly into a column formation. Horses snorted and stamped the dry earth, scattering rocks. Benkai Tal’s chief general, Tuboda, cantered forward to ride beside the chief.
    “I have a bad feeling,” he said, through his thick beard. He was short and stocky, and wore a thick necklace of knuckle bones from the men and women he had killed.
    “Hn,” grunted Benkai.
    “Look. Ahead.” Tuboda gestured, and Benkai held his fist in the air, halting the mounted column. Distantly, the oxen snorted as cart wheels ground to a halt.
    “A woman,” growled Benkai Tal.
    Already Tuboda was searching the hilltops, and he lifted a horn to his lips and gave three short blasts. His scouts returned his call, confirming there were no enemy riders waiting in ambush. Tuboda frowned. Unless… unless the enemy had ambushed the scouts and tortured them into returning the call.
    “What she doing here? A long way from home, it looks.”
    “We find out,” said Benkai.
    “Hey, you not need another wife?” grinned Tuboda suddenly, and Benkai gave him a narrow scowl and kicked his horse forward. Tuboda followed, and the two tribesmen cantered down the wide track between boulders, halting abruptly before the tall, white-skinned woman with short, spiked white hair. She wore black leather trews, a white shirt, a heavy jacket of wolfskin. Her head was high, eyes watching the two warriors without fear. She was appraising them. She had some courage. Some balls. Benkai Tal liked that.
    “You are in my way,” said Benkai. “These are Horsenail lands. No other person come here. Not unless they wish to join my tribe. Or die.”
    The woman tilted her head. She smiled. But still, she showed no fear.
    Benkai frowned and his temper began to slip. It did not take much.