Ryder and the Wolf: The End Begins. (Book 1 Completed)

Chapter 6

Here's Chapter 6! I really hope to see some more followers next week, as I plan to post the rest of the book! Remember 10 followers get's a sneak peek at the sequel before it's even finished (Yes, I do actually write the books before posting.)!

Chapter 6:

Grandfather’s Memory.

I opened the envelope to find a letter in my grandmother’s hand; with a picture of my grandfather. He used to sit me on his knee; and he’d tell me stories about the witch hunters, while he polished the hilt of a titanium dagger and smoked his pipe. I’ll always remember the rag he always used; and the perfume of his particular brand, though they were all but lost to me from the years passed. I unfolded the letter; which read,

My dearest Ryder,

How I wish; we had more time, for me to teach you the things you need to know.

The witch hunters will be looking for you, and your brothe.

I only hope; that this picture, will help you find a way to protect you both.

You’re a precious creature indeed; half human, and half wolf.

Please remember me fondly; and be careful, the world is a dangerous place for you.

Now more than ever.

Your subconscious memories will guide you, And your grandfather’s dagger will help.

Use it wisely; dear Ryder, keep him safe and he’ll always be beside you.

All my love to you; my dear child, and good luck!

                        Ever Yours,

                  Grandmother Lucinda.

I opened the box; to find my grandfather’s rag, bound with string in four places. I untied the strings; and opened the rag to reveal the titanium blade, and caressed the golden hilt which bore the head of a howling wolf as a decorative flourish. I took the rag; and began to polish the shining dagger, The memories flooded through me suddenly; giving me a flashback, the smell of his pipe, the gleam in his eye reflecting the blade, the sound of his voice.

“Now Ryder; someday you’ll understand the true meaning of life, and that will be the day that you put someone else before yourself.” He told me; continuing his story, I was just three. “When you’re older; you will be faced with the choice of run away, or fight. On that day; I know you will make the right choice, and fight.”

“Will there be a wolf like the one on your knife granddad?” My three year old self asked; pointing excitedly at the dagger, a three year old peter sat at his feet rolling his eyes.

“Perhaps there will; Ryder, my dear. You’ll have to find that out for yourself, won’t you? I’m no fortune teller; but I’ll put money on it being, a young man that you might well become rather attracted to. Now, if you spare him and; protect him He’ll always be loyal to you, just like Bisclavret.” He told me; my grandmother could be heard from across the room saying,

“Now George; don’t you go filling the girl’s head with that nonsense, She’ll only go looking for a wolf boy that doesn’t exist.”

“Oh my word; is that the time? Your mother and father will be here to pick you and your brother up, any minute now.” Said my grandfather, “Perhaps I’ll tell you that old wolf’s tale when you’re here next visit.” And with that, my flashback ended.

I looked back at the box and in the bottom; carved into the wood, were the words: ‘Witch hunters will show you no mercy, Kill them before they kill you.’ I thought for a moment; there had to be a way to avoid killing someone, but I was shaken from my thoughts when heard the sudden cry in my head.

“Red? Where are you? It’ll be dark soon, and there’s something I want you to see. Red?” I recognized the voice; immediately as Bade’s, and tried to concentrate on channeling my thoughts to him.

“Alick? I’m so sorry I didn’t meet you sooner; My grandmother just passed, and I’ve got so many tangled riddles to figure out. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I told him; and pulled myself together, quickly. Peter knocked on my door then; and asked if I wanted steak, for dinner. “Wrap it up and set it aside for me, I’m not hungry right now. I’ll eat later.” I told him; he reluctantly agreed, and headed back downstairs to join our mother, and the guests that had come to pay their condolences.

I climbed out of my window then; as I had done many times before, dropped my satchel of provisions to the ground below, and shimmied down the trellises. Taking care to only hold onto bare parts; between the ivy, and the rose thorns. Once on the ground I collected my effects and hurried to the nearest shadow; a large oak tree, with an old tire swing hanging from the bough from when Peter and I were young.

Tagger was sleeping in his kennel nearby; and hearing my footsteps, he awoke with a growl. I unhooked the leash from his collar; and commanded him to stay close beside me, Tagger once again obeyed; and followed me through the shadows, only pausing occasionally to mark his territory.

We walked side by side; through the shadows among the rolling hills, after the passing of the hour I found myself alone about fifty yards or so ahead of my canine companion. Tagger seemed to fear the surrounding environment all of a sudden; and moved much slower than usual, trying to keep low to the ground as he came along the trodden path. I slowed to a stop; and sat on a tuft of bog rushes to wait for him, and we sat there for a few moments taking in the dusky breeze.

“Trust me, Tagger. If I’d thought we might be in any danger I would have stayed in my bedroom.” I said to him with courage. “Are you ready? there’s no turning back now, so don’t tell me you want to go home.” Tagger sat up straight; put on his brave face, and marched forward in the direction of Hound’s Tor. This was where our adventures would soon begin; however, tonight was to be more of a personal visit.