A Wolf Among Men: Packless, #3

By T.J. Spicer

Welcome back to Vici. We have returned to our friend Gabe, the newest Ashley. He may have found a new home, but will his past return to ruin everything? Or will the beast within him drive him from his new family? 

 

Join us in this third part of a series of short stories in the Packless chain. This Gabe's epic trek into the world of Vici, a place of magic, science, and amazing heroes.

 

Warning!
There is violence and explicit language in this short work of fantasy and horror. This story has werewolves, people get ate. You have been warned!

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.J. Spicer
• Release date: Nov 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201128784

T.J. Spicer

T.J. Spicer currently lives in San Diego, California, with his beautiful wife and daughter. It has been a long time homecoming for him to return to the Golden State after leaving to serve in the United States Army. Tim was a sergeant in C Co., 1st BSTB, 82nd Air Borne division. Don’t get too excited. He was no war hero, just a simple signal sergeant. Today he spends his time writing jabbering tales of fiction and enjoys roleplaying games, all books he can devour, and tabletop miniatures games. A mid all these silly nerdisms, he somehow finds time to work his day job as a test engineer. I hate writing about myself, so maybe someone else would have done a better job.

Book preview

Interlude Four

ONE WOULD NOT think a simple farmhouse nestled away at the end of an overgrown, winding road could drive such dread into the hearts of two stout fellows, but even the old facade of the well-cared-for home cut at the McGowans brothers’ resolve. The land was situated far from the outskirts of a town known for its timber and little else. Neither Gilan nor Alian made this journey with interest in timber or its uses. Their steps grew heavier as they crept onwards towards the front stoop of the farmhouse, wrapped in a miasma of dread of their own making.

Ashenvale was a long trek from Brunswick, where the brothers had separated from the Ashleys. The two young men had changed out horses several times during this trip and now wished they had continued home with their Lord. But, they had orders from their lord and a debt to repay. Neither would balk at this responsibility. It was their duty not only to their Lord but to the boy that would be the newest Ashley.

The King’s road had been clear but for a dusting of ice, and the travelers they met had been in high spirits. Winter was again turning towards the warmer months of Spring, and the wildflowers had just started to bud as they passed the day's travel to their destination.

With Spring in full bloom, the bright yellow sunflowers lining the farmyard garden oddly set the two young men on edge. The clean sunlight that glared off the windows made Alian think of the flickering light reflected in a ravenous cave bear’s eyes high in the Fangs, not of the peaceful, inviting signs of a well-kept home.

Gilan opened the gate to the farmyard garden and extended his hand to let his brother take up the cobblestone path to the door under the white-washed porch.

They both paused at the door and exchanged a look as they stood on the stoop under the shade of the porch and stared at the door. The two brothers eyed the knocker like it was a viper poised to strike.

Gil, fix your shirt. It’s come un-tucked. Alian told his older, brawnier brother and fussed with his shoulder-length dark brown hair. He had taken to wearing it tied back in a nobleman's fashion and attempted to find some kind of stall to keep from having to knock at the door.

No, it hasn’t! Gil snickered and scratched the top of his tightly shorn, tawny hair. You should cut that mop. It makes you look like a fop.

Yes, it has. And there's nothing wrong with my hair. My hair is all the fashion now in Mhey.

No, it has not. Gilan fussed with his shirt and belt accomplishing very little. There. Happy? I only look off cause you made me leave my sword and dagger back at the inn. My belt isn’t riding right without them.

And for a good reason too. We are going to meet Gabby’s family today. What would you need that overgrown cutlery for? Do you think they are going to need the hedges cut? Now that you’re presentable, knock on the door.

No, how ’bout you do it? And don’t take that tone with me. Lord Ashley, you are not.

Ah, fine. Alian turned to face the door lifting his fist to knock only to find an aged but straight-backed man with grey hair and a burly beard glowering at him from under two huge bushy brows. His heavy leather boots thumped loudly on the worn farmhouse floorboards as he stepped to them. This man was a small greying bear dressed in resilient but straightforward garb: a white linen shirt, earth-toned woolen breeches, and heavy suspenders.

Bailiff’s already come for their taxes. His staring face, resembling an old slab of oak dark and weathered from its long life in the sun, pushed a terrible tremble of intimidation into Alain’s gut. The man’s scarred hands grasped his thick leather and brass-buckled suspenders. This grandfatherly affectation could be one of kindness and put most at ease. Alian could feel only the menace of this man's intent.

Ahh... yes sir, we are not with the Bailiff, Alian answered, a slight squeak to his voice. He took a quick step back from the stoop.

Well then, hurry up. What do you want?

Excuse me, sir, I hate to bother you, Alian continued, stepping back farther behind his older brother.

Then don’t, the old man answered, releasing his suspenders and moving to close the door.

I’ll have to beg your pardon, gaffer, but you are the landlord, Mr. Tenus, Gilan said, his brown eyes taking on a hard flint as he stepped forward, placing his hand on the closing door.

Who would you be then, younker? The old man glared at the older McGowan’s hand.

Gilan McGowan and this here is my younger brother Alian.

Is that supposed to mean something, boy?

Ah, I don’t believe so, good sir. We are the retainers of Lord Edmund Ashley, and if you wouldn’t mind, we... Alian squeaked out in an attempt to defuse the situation.

Don’t know any Lords, Ashley or no.

Ah, well, Lord Ashley, you see, sir... Alian sputtered, looking to cool the tempers flaring about him and finding himself floundering.

Got no business with either of ya, bugger off.

We’re here on matters regarding Gabriel. Gilan burst out, pushing himself between the door and its frame.

No one by that name lives here. Whatever story you’ve heard is a lie. The old farmer crumbled to himself.

The stories and rumors had spread like wildfire through the township of Ashenvale and were the source of much heartache for his family. It hadn’t taken much for the locals to put together the two missing boys and Gabe’s mysterious disappearance.

Sir, we would just like a few moments of your time, Alian pleaded.

"If you know what is good for you, the two of you’d do well to