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Breath of the dusk was gently kissing the charcoal walls of Carrosh. Large, hewn stones were glowing fiery in the setting sun, just as campfires amongst forests surrounding the fortress. Dusk would fall soon and those lights would become sinister eyes of a beast lurking in the shadows. How had it come to this? How many times today had she asked herself this question?

They'd come at night. Quietly and imperceptibly like thieves. Like a snake, invisible until the very end. In absentia of the master. Like bandits. "After all, they are just it. But what do they want?"

"You have two days." was everything they had said. No requests, no threats. "None? No. It was a threat." Threat in the gaze of this shadow; threat concealed between words, as the dagger in darkness, said with harsh, eastern accent. They had come from the country of sand and sun, but how did they manage to get here?

The balcony clang to the wall of rectangular keep. Old and strong, like the mountain which it sat on. Carrosh, while not large by any means, couldn't not arouse the admiration. Flanking towers and curtain walls roused up high above heads of the inhabitants of the settlement. At the foot of the rocky steepness, fenced with low stone wall, laid small enclave, sparkling with lights of torches and windows, bustling like an anthill at the roots of an old oak. Similarly as their persecutors, the night was flooding the sky from east, once and again pulling red banners with stronger wafts. Black wolf on the scarlet field danced and writhed, tousled with these sudden dashes.

"We won't dance," she told herself with hard determination.

She was strong. She, her people... her defenders. Her ...defender. But she wasn't the only one, who he had to protect. These diligent ants were still there, below. Scared and disorientated. "Are they strong enough?" And then there was her precious...

She turned and came inside. Dimly lit bedchamber was only a whit brighter than the night outside. "It has already sneaked in here." For some reason this thought bristled fur on her neck.

Near the large bed a cresset hung from the wall. Warm, yellowish little flame promised house and love, smelling of the aroma of lavender oil. In the embrace of flickering light the shadow of the cradle shimmered with every air movement in the chamber. Back, at the donjon it was warm and floors were made of wooden boards, however, sir Tancred insisted on her moving to the keep with her son. Stone floors and thick walls of the old tower were bare and cold, and, as if that weren't enough, droughts were rushing in through the narrow firing ports and often slammed all not-closed doors. But she would bear any discomforts, if only to provide safety for the tiny small bundle being sound asleep in the wooden cradle.

The grey snout of the little wolf cub barely stuck out from under the blankets and furs. When his mother moved her own muzzle closer and gently touched her nose to the black, wet nose of her sweet boy, she could hear his calm, steady breathing, music of silence, flowing with tickling streams of air with every exhalation. She could look at him for hours, even though his conception took so much effort ...Her, her husband... and...

There was a knocking at the door. However, it wasn't violent and careless one, like the others had in habit, so she immediately knew who it was. The pup moved slightly, but didn't wake up. She opened the door cautiously and greeted her protector with a gentle smile.

"Lady," The grey wolf bowed his head before her. Since yesterday he hadn't been parting with his armor, which steel plates in the darkness of the corridor, seemed to be the part of his body, dark, as his fur. Two men were accompanying him.

"Sir Tancred? Is something happening?" Her smile disappeared when she saw the guards.

"No, my lady. Forgive me for disturbing your peace, but we want to call a council. You ought to participate."

"We had conferred at dawn. Did something change from then?"

Tancred looked at her hesitantly. It didn't fit him. Didn't fit the strong, mature man he was. And it didn't appeal to her one bit.

"We have a plan, my lady."

In his indiscreet eyes she could see that what she was about to hear on the meeting, will appeal to her even less. She called the housemaid, and left her son in her care.

They had been climbing down the stairs leading to the lower floor, towards the council chamber, and guards held on behind them keeping an appropriate distance.

"Sir Tancred...," she started.

"Later, my lady."

The expression of his face, and golden eyes was so determined that she gave up on asking anything more. The knight perfectly knew and she knew to, but the time for words was about to come soon anyway.

When they entered the room, their guest had already been waiting for them. It was much more light there than in the bedroom chamber above. It glanced off of his alabaster fur as sunrays from snow, almost dazzling. Similarly to her protector, the fox didn't separate with his armor since the enemy had shown. His armor, however, was matt and pitch-black, also significantly lighter than wolf's. Forasmuch, lord Skylark under no circumstances was a man as impressing, as sir Tancred, though also undeniably handsome. Still, however, their eyes met on the same level, when he got up to greet her.

"Lady Raelyn," he bowed . Rings of his chainmail rang quietly under the steel cuirass and little taces.

"Lord Balan," she bowed back to him. "I know you two have come up with some plan," she said when Tancred closed the door behind them.

They rallied round the table on which rose the castle. The parchment was old and urned a little yellow, but solid, inky walls resisted passing time equally effectively as the real ones. Between the mountains, sketched with black ink, ran the very pass which Carrosh was destined to guard. Close at the south edge of the map began a line of trees, the front guard of the wilderness stretching far further, on the entire highland. The map had been depicted very solicitously and included all the upheavals, valleys and also known caves. However, it didn't include the areas north to the pass. Streching for many miles to the north laid the domain of Skylarks, from immemorial times loyal vassals of Dormers. Wolfish house guarding the pass never feared any threat from the north

Raelyn has seen this map only several times, never though, were these situations pleasant. On the sheet were spaced out wooden figurines of the knights, soldiers, and archers. Under the walls, keeping watch, were symbolic posts and concentrations of the enemy forces. Several wooden blocks behind their lines meant the camp. She tore her gaze off the table when sir Tancred occupied his place.

"The commander of this band most evidently is a blind fool. They haven't secured the rear wicket," the knight announced. "I sent three scouts."

"One of them has not returned yet," noticed Balan Skylark.

"It's still not too late," wolf retorted to him with a cloudy face. Raelyn wished she believed that too.

"This is war. This pup was about fifteen years..."

"He IS fourteen. His father serves in the guard."

"They brought some news?" Countess changed the subject. She sincerely pitied the boy, but this conversation couldn't bring anything good.

"As we expected. They're mercenaries. No colors, nor the flag," answered Tancred.

"Condottieri?"

"Most certainly not, my lady. Their contracts are open. Besides, too much people from desert," lord Skylark explained. "Even condottieri don't trust them excessively."

"Untrustworthy ones will honor nobody with their own trust," stated Tancred. "Lord Balan is right. These here, they don't wear any symbols; are none of known companies."

"What does it mean for us?" the lady asked. "We know they came from sands anyway."

"That's the thing. We know but only this," Tancred replied sourly.

"Somebody clearly doesn't want to admit to the attack on the castle," added Skylark.

"I am not surprised," wolf agreed and addressed Raelyn, "Your husband will be furious when he will find out about this, my lady."

"Murtagh won't forgive this insolence, even if gods themselves stand behind it." The name of Murtagh Dormer awoke fear in the hearts of the enemies. Unfortunately, as it turned out, not from afar.

A week ago her husband had set off to Dalarenz heeding the call of the prince. Balan Skylark had arrived on the pass with two dozens of his people just after the departure of his sovereign. He hoped to offer the count congratulations because of the birth of a son, but the prince had insisted on Murtagh to hurry, so they failed to meet. Raelyn offered hospitality to the most trusted ally of his husband, and he willingly consented. And yesterday all this descended on them unexpectedly, like a bolt out of the blue.

"We think that we can suitably hospitate our persecutors already." Skylark's words tore her out from her reverie. "According to our estimates they have at most five hundred people."

"And what, if you are wrong? Maybe the rest hid in bends and caverns?"

"We checked this," ensured the wolf.

"That is exactly why we have one scout less."

"We do not know this yet." Tancred looked at the white fox with determination.

"It is necessary to accept the worst possibility. We must assume that the boy was caught, questioned, even killed, and the enemy stays awake.

Raelyn couldn't disagree with Skylark but she kept this thought for herself. Tancred was a noble wolf, and he didn't put up easily with loss of the people. Years of service and scars hadn't been able to change this. This she always admired in him. In Murtagh some reactions already died long ago, and he changed. Forever. His commander of guard kept the heart under his armor.

"This, after all, doesn't make any sense," she stated suddenly.

Both men looked at her inquiringly.

"If they really appeared in force so small, then attacking us is simply madness," she explained." How many people were actually left by my husband to defend the castle?"

"I have two hundreds. Eighty archers among them. And then, the peasant militia, if things turn bad."

"And my unit."

"They won't stand a chance."

Maybe she didn't understand the matters of war, but she definitely could count. Crew only by half smaller from besieging forces would finish off any enemies at the first onrush.

"They intend to besiege us?" she asked, immediately realizing how ridiculous and absurd was this thought.

"I would suspect so, wasn't it for their two-days ultimatum," Tancred said.

"What could they do, if we won't open the gates tomorrow?"

"We won't have the opportunity to find out," dropped lord Skylark enigmatically.

"What does it suppose to mean? What do you intend?" The question here was unnecessary. Nervous sir Tancred's behavior earlier and all she had heard here, told her all.

"Without a doubt the enemy have known about the departure of his lordship and approached our walls, counting on the sitting duck," Tancred said. "Surely, keeping in mind that there was only little crew left, hence Carrosh lay far away from our borders. We never commit this mistake."

"Rightly so," agreed Balan.

"I intend to take half of our forces and make a sally. I'm going to strike at their left wing and pierce through to the very camp of the enemy," announced Tancred indicating the map and moving the wooden knights on it's surface. "They gave us their ultimatum and do not know our number. Now they wait for our decision, giving back all the initiative. I'm going to show them real meaning of the phrase: a grave mistake. We will surprise them, same, as they surprised us. Quick and firm."

Raelyn listened to the resolute declarations of her defenders while looking at the map. All of this seemed so simple down there. Figurines of soldiers looked like toys. But this wasn't some kind of game. Death danced on the map among the inky rocks and forests. It will dance tonight on the pass. She knew that Tancred and Balan were presenting the plan to her, however, they weren't asking for permission. Murtagh had entrusted the command to sir Tancred and she didn't have anything to say in this matter.

"Are you sure this is not a trap? What if you won't manage, sir Tancred?" she asked looking straight into his noble, yellow eyes. "Carrosh will be left undefended and without a commander."

His face remained imperturbable. Even eyes.

"Therefore, we established that lord Skylark will remain on the castle. He will guard you and your son, my lady. If I didn't return, he would retain the command until his lordship, count Murtagh comes back."

The world stopped for a moment when this vision settled in her mind. "This will not happen," she said firmly to herself. As if echoing her thoughts, lord Skylark expressed his deep conviction about reasonableness and success of this scheme.

"When do you intend to leave, Tancred?"

"After midnight, my lady. I will lead our troops through the rear wicket. We know the area significantly better, in darkness this gives us even greater advantage over the enemy."

And with that the council was finished.

---

"You shouldn't go."

He was looking at her unaffected, his expression unreadable, but arms crossed on his chest betrayed obstinacy.

"How did I know it would be so?" he sighed.

"Does this surprise you?" she asked, louder than intended. The puppy moved in his cradle.

"No." he retorted only after a moment, leaning on the doorpost of the balcony. The doors were open on the dark night. Moonlight fell on his right side in such a way, that half of his steel-clad body had been almost white. Like death.

She snorted. Not so much because of his answer, as of need to repel this feeling. But he lowered his ears anyway.

"Of course not. I've seen it in your eyes when you came for me this evening."

"Because I knew we will have this conversation anyway" he answered resigned. "I knew you would worry."

"Then I'm glad I did not disappoint you."

He didn't answer, only closed his eyes and lowered his head. Like a beaten dog. Or wolf in this case. It only took a moment for her to not know anymore, whether she was angrier on him for this plan they elaborated with Skylark, or herself for her harsh words.

"Why do you do this to me?" he whispered suddenly, his voice trembling with emotions. This voice, somehow louder than yelling, she heard coming from him only several times. And certainly, she didn't expect to hear it now.

"What do you mean?" she asked, taken aback.

"What do I mean?!" Tancred spreaded his hands helplessly. He stood up at the center of the room, so that weak glimmers of candles sent a delicate orange-haze shroud on his gray fur. "Who am I, Raelyn?" he inquired.

But what are you asking about, dearest? There are so many answers to this question.

"You are..." she started, looking into his golden eyes. They waited, as if the words to be told weren't supposed to be a confirmation of what was, but a sentence what was to be. They filled her with fear. "...you are the one I love" she said without an eye blink. "You are the one, whom I should have taken as my husband in the presence of gods, that day.

His face warmed up with a smile. A sad smile, but nonetheless. And every Tancred's smile was hers too. He approached her and embracing her delicate paw into his own, mightier ones, he brought it closer to his muzzle and then touched to his cheek. She felt soft fur under her paw pads. It was darkgray, like steel, and as long as untouched, it always gave an impression of rough and unpleasant. That was the way Tancred was. Severe and tough, but that was just the surface. Anybody who got past it, got to know the spirit in this strong body, knew that he was...

"I know, love" he spoke quietly closing eyes, sinking in her caresses. "And I do not want it to change... But I'm a knight" he said. She saw firm loyalty, when he looked at her again. "I serve. I serve Carrosh. It's people. You... and your lord husband..."

"He is not mine."

"...and his heir, if gods permit" he finished, looking at the small young wolf cub sleeping in the cradle.

"He is not his."

"Wenzel will rule Carrosh. Like his father" said Tancred with emphasis. "I have duties. I have to defend the castle for him."

"Then defend!" she whispered almost pleadingly, embracing his face with her delicate paws. "They gave us two days. What could they do afterwards? Attack? You will crush them from walls."

"I will crush them now. They are weak" he assured, returning her gesture. His hands were strong, pads on his palms hardened from hours of trainings with sword. They promised pain to enemies and safety to friends. Certainty of victory in Tancred's eyes equalled the one, coming from his mouth. "I fought already in battles and tournaments, you know?" he smiled reassuringly. She wished this was enough.

"I know." she stroked his cheek. "It's just... you know that I am not fainthearted woman?"

"You are strong and courageous." He touched his cold, black nose to her own. She couldn't not smile, in spite of what she was about to say.

"And nonetheless..." She feared for him like never before, but anyway felt foolish. She lowered her head and in his breastplate, polished as mirror, she saw her own distorted reflection. Beneath it beat the heart, that belonged to her. Would it beat for her, ere the sun rises the next day? Maybe too highly you think of me, beloved...

"What's the matter" he asked at last, raising her chin. "Tell me."

"I have a hunch. Maybe it's stupid. But... I have a hunch that after this night... I will see you no more."

Tears filled her eyes and with a clash of steel she held on to him. Nestling to his neck and chin, she drank off his scent, and he held her tight, giving as much time, as she needed. Both of them needed. She did not know whether passed the minute or the entire quarter, when he broke the silence.

"I have a hunch to, Raelyn."

She stepped aside to look into his eyes. There were seriousness and concern in them.

"I have a hunch that something stands behind this two-day ultimatum. Our enemy, whoever it is, is either a complete fool, or an insidious gambler. Tomorrow I don't want to see from this balcony three times more people under our walls, you understand?"

"We would know if..." her protest died, when she realised.

"Like we knew about this unit?" tilting his head he indicated the forest outside." Raelyn, I prefer to get my hands on the enemy, when I still have him within my reach. Easier and safer to beat off the walls five hundred than thousands. With every hour the chances increase that enemy will receive reinforcements."

"And what with me? With your son?"

"He is not..."

"He is!" she opposed. "Even, if only we know about this. Murtagh has his child. He took her to Dalarenz."

"She is also your daughter."

"And I love her with all my heart" she ensured, approaching the cradle with sleeping cub. "And this is YOUR son."

Tancred came along after her and looked at the fruit of his loins. He fought a lost battle and it was long since he had admitted this to himself. The time came, that this truth was to see the daylight.

"You know I love him" he said looking warmly at the puppy.

"I know" she answered calmly and took his hand, their fingers interlocking. "And never try to change it. For a knight, a smith, a priest one can become. And one can stop being. One cannot stop being a father. With me and Wenzel links you the bond stronger and more important, than any oaths or obligations knight can swear to his lord."

Tancred smiled on these words. He felt warm in his chest that cold night and draughts of old Carrosh couldn't ever blow away. Reaching with his free paw toward the small wolf pup he gently caressed his cheek. Little one didn't awake, but moved his short, fluffy muzzle and licked his fingers several times. And for these few seconds Tancred felt higher than gods themselves.

"You see?" asked Raelyn with joy in her eyes. In this "kiss" he received from his son, in this look wolfess was bestowing upon him, was force so great that the knight would gladly ride into battle alone, convinced nobody would manage to match him anyway.

"This is a blessing" he said." I will ride on the enemy with this moment in mind and destroy him, to return for more." he tightened paw to fist. The same paw, which a moment ago touched alive innocence, and in an hour will draw a sword.

"Allow me then to give you my own blessing as well" whispered Raelyn.