Tangled Fates

Chapter 9 Rath

My warriors returned, their conditions ranging from battered and bruised to lifeless, carried on makeshift stretchers. The cruel reality of warfare was an anticipated loss, yet each fallen comrade left a wound in our collective spirit that no time could truly heal. As the last man crossed the threshold of the castle gates, Caleb and Elijah sought me out amidst the chaos. I had always insisted that my most formidable fighters move from the forefront to the rear of our formation during such returns, ensuring a protective shield for those less robust among us.

I noted over two dozen younglings within our ranks, most barely having reached their thirteenth year, the age when their shifting abilities would normally begin to manifest. They were far too young to be thrust into such a brutal conflict. Among them were older adolescents, around sixteen, by my estimation. Their expressions bore the heavy imprint of horrors encountered far beyond what any being should endure at such an early stage of life.

Several of these older youths cradled infants in their arms, a sight that fed my rage. It was impossible to discern whether these babes were offsprings sired under duress by Zander's vile rogues or innocent victims snatched from other families for his pack's expansion. My jaw tightened at the thought of these younglings subjected to unspeakable barbarity and forced into premature parenthood.

Yet, amidst this grim scene, I clung fiercely to hope. Hope that perhaps these infants belonged not to unwilling mothers but rather siblings or other kinfolk rescued from Zander's clutches.

"Alpha," Caleb said, grabbing my attention. "We retrieved those who were lost during the battle. We also asked the young ones if they knew of their own who may have fallen. We wanted to bring them back with us for a proper farewell."

"How many of our people did not survive and how many young ones did we have to take down?" It was a hard question, but necessary for our records.

"Unfortunately, twenty-three of our soldiers did not make it. We will personally inform their families and give them a warrior's sending." Caleb paused, clearing his throat. "Fifteen young ones were killed, and we have brought their bodies back with us. We will do our best to identify them and give them a proper sending."

"You mentioned some of the young ones helped us locate the fallen young?"

"Yes, Alpha."

My gaze fixed on the weary warriors beginning to peel off their battle-worn armor and slump against the stone wall. "We should ensure their present at the sending rites. It's a crucial part of their healing process, allowing them to bid farewell to those they've lost. Who knows? Perhaps one of the departed helped them survive Zander's terror."

I turned my attention to the young ones who seemed paralyzed with fear, unable to even sit without explicit orders. "We must escort these younglings to the dungeon," I instructed. "Provide them with sustenance, food, water, and fresh attire. Fill the cells with blankets and basic necessities. I want these quarters to be habitable for them until we can confirm that they're not spying for Zander."

"Four per cell," I continued, outlining my directives with precision. "Girls separate from boys. We'll need to conduct individual interviews." A momentary pause punctuated my instructions as I added a critical caution, "And keep them well away from our captive rogue downstairs. I don't want them aware of his presence here."

"Sir... the infants? What of them?" Caleb's voice was threaded with concern and bewilderment.

"Separation will only instill more fear in them. It's best to keep them together for now. Gather a few men, and comb through the storage rooms for cradles for those with infants. Come dawn, we'll put out a call to the pack. Anyone with space in their homes or who can offer care should step forward. As soon as these younglings are cleared, we need to ensure they're placed in secure homes."