The wolves leaped – higher than he had ever seen them jump before. The largest of them reached the lip of the wall, its claws gleaming as it swiped at their gawking audience.
The soldiers yelped, drawing back in fright.
Another sharp whistle and the wolves retreated, circling the wrangler once more.
The wrangler tucked her hands behind her back, waiting for her audience to gather their courage.
The wolves sat in utter stillness.
Slowly,cautiously, the soldiers crept back to the wall. More arrived, growing bolder as they crowded the periphery. Soon, the arena was fuller than Alarik had ever seen it.
Iversen gave a subtle nod. At the other end of the arena, three stuffed mannequins were dropped into the pit. The one in the middle was dressed in the colours of Gevra – a midnight-blue frock coat, trimmed in silver. The other two wore the colours of Vask – crimson and gold.
Iversen stomped her foot, her cry soaring on the wind. ‘ATTACK!’
The wolves thundered across the arena, setting upon the mannequins with a viciousness that made Alarik’s heart leap.
‘Look!’ said Elva, gleefully. ‘They’re not even touching the middle one!’
‘And they’re ripping the others limb from limb,’ said Vine, with a huff of laughter. ‘Clever beasts.’
Clever wrangler.
Down below, the soldiers watched on in awe. Some whooped and hollered at the spectacle, while others clapped their hands in triumph. In a matter of moments, the Vaskan mannequins were utterly dismembered, their uniforms strewn across the arena in tattered red ribbons.
At a sharp whistle from the wrangler, the wolves returned to her. The largest of them carried the head of a mannequin in his maw. He dropped it at her feet. She leaned down to scratch under the wolf’s chin. He preened, arching his back like a spoilt pup.
‘Theyadoreher,’ said Elva, in a quiet, awestruck voice.
‘Who? The soldiers or the beasts?’ said Vine, and Alarik had to stop himself from saying,both, obviously.By wrangling the wolves, Iversen was wrangling the soldiers that feared them. Not simply telling them there was nothing to fear, butshowingthem. Using her own body as a demonstration, as a promise that they were safe with these beasts. They were safe with her.
This was not some frivolous spectacle. It was a show of skill and control. A demonstration of power. And more than that, it was an invitation to the king’s soldiers to trust the beasts that would soon be their allies again, to stow their fears and hold fast to their courage.
Alarik almost smiled. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any more brilliant, his wrangler stepped backwards and sketched an elaborate curtsy, as though she were a princess departing at last from the dance floor. When the wolves bowed their mighty heads to mirror her gesture, the king burst into laughter.
Elva turned to stare at him in surprise.
Vine stepped back from the window. ‘So, that’s what your real laugh sounds like. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard it.’
Alarik stiffened, quickly strangling the sound. ‘That was a cough, Vine.’
She arched a brow, but before she could issue a retort, Elva whirled on them. ‘Damn this snow, I want to pet a wolf!’
She squared her chin, silently daring the king to forbid her.
He only shrugged. If he couldn’t trust his wrangler after that demonstration, then he never would. He looked to Vine. ‘Take the princess down to the arena. I’m sure your soldiers can spare you for another hour.’
‘Join us?’ said Elva,tugging at his arm.
‘I’d hate to make Nova and Luna jealous,’ he said, dryly. ‘You two go ahead. I’ll watch.’
They scurried off in a fit of excitement, leaving Alarik alone in the corridor. He returned to the window, tracking his wrangler as she marched up and down, effortlessly spooling every wonderstruck soldier and dutiful beast around her little finger.
As Alarik stood transfixed at the window, watching his wrangler for far longer than he would ever dare to admit, he couldn’t help but think she had spooled a part of him, too.
CHAPTER 14
Greta
