The Red Girl

The first I saw of her was the glint of red hair sparkling against the setting sun.

The second I saw of her was the sparkle of steel against the full moon’s light.

I watched her through the bush in the dead of the night. The birds had finished the last of their songs and had begun their slumber.

She had laid her cloak on a cushion of leaves, taking refuge in the array of bushes and heavy trees in my home. She was laying on her back, on top of her cloak. I barred my teeth seeing the heavy grey fur lining of the garb. The girl gripped the handle of her steel, which she had tucked underneath her makeshift bedding.

A fire would be out of the question. Beings dead and alive littered this forest. The fire would ignite the colour of her hair further. She would be dead before she was warm. If I had seen her, others would too.

I kept my eye on the girl.

A sharp wind blew through the forest, cutting through my fur. It was Autumn’s warning that it was on the cusp of arrival. With that, I rested. I stayed where I would hear if the girl moved.

*

I had long been awake by the time the girl rose from her makeshift bed in the forest. I watched her unwrap a small piece of smoked meat from a folded linen. Had she known I was watching her, she probably would not have done it. I had already eaten and was not about to concern myself with measly crumbs such as that.

Soon the girl was dressed in her cloak and was marching west through the forest. Her red hair glinted in the morning sun as it had done the night before. It looked as though flames floated atop her head as she walked. It floated and whipped in the wind as embers do off a fire. She would be wise to cover it and avoid detection. I had nothing the better to do with my time and trekked a distance behind the girl. I was small, stealthy and had been on my own for a long while. I knew how to keep silent in the woods.

The noon sun was soon up and by now I knew that the girl was certainly headed for the coast, for the waters. She was perched at a river, filling a leather flask. Taking sips in between fills, I saw her shoulders relax. I kept myself hidden in the shade of the trees, silent as a ghost.

But then, the snap of a branch.

The girl froze. I watched her shoulders tense where they had just finally relaxed.

Another snap of a branch. The forest stood still.

Two men crept out of the trees up to the river.

“Hello, dear,” said the first man. His voice was raspy. He smelled of old sweat and smoke.

The girl stood frozen. Her eyes wide.

“Looks like our red darling stopped for a little drink,” the second man said, snarling.

“You alone out here, girl?” said the first man.

She stood quiet, ghostly white.

“You think she’s a mute of some sort?” the second man said, snarling still.

I saw the girl reaching underneath her cloak. I knew she had a blade. Come to think of it - how had she come across such a blade?

It happened quickly, even for me. The first man nodded to the other, and the second man gripped her, one arm around the waist, another around her neck.

She did not even let out a cry. I could see she was breathing hard. I saw the second man grip an axe from around his back.

I leaped through the bushes, bounding towards them. Ripping at the first man, I tore at his arm flesh. He screamed, writhing beneath me. I turned to the second man, wide-eyed, thrashing, I tore at his legs, forcing him into the water. I heard screaming but I kept my eye on the red girl.

She stood, saying nothing. I watched her, and she nodded at me. Next thing, she was sprinting back into the forest’s arms as I turned to finish off the men.

Licking blood off my teeth, I stopped for a drink myself. Then I walked in search of the girl.

Tracking was simple for me. I could smell the direction she had gone. She was still headed west. It appeared she was not much deterred from the incident. Her scent became stronger, and I could smell that she had some of her meat rations left. I was close.

How did the girl come to be here? She was too small to be in this forest. But soon I found her, the same way I had at first - by the glint of her hair.

I approached and I allowed her to see me. She looked at me and spoke.

“Hello, Wolf.”

I lifted my head, catching the scent of a far off fire.

“Thank you for helping me. I did not need your help, you know.”

I begged to differ.

“You are not the largest wolf I have ever seen. I see why you are a lone one of your kind. Likely you would be pushed out of the pack if you tried. Yet you’ve been a great help to me. I am certain those men had plans to knock me out with the butt of an axe, and haul me to the shores to sell me as a slave. Red hair always pays.”

She sighed, and spoke again, “Stay with me, Wolf.”

With that, I set off with this girl. I do not know why I did it. She was right. I was viewed as a weakling by others of my kind. I was small, undersized. My small size I made up for in stealth and in tracking. I would be of use to a pack now that I had become experienced. I did prefer to be on my own. But now this girl captured my interest.

I trotted ahead of the girl, veering her to the slight northwest. It would take her somewhat off course, but I could smell the faint smoke of fires straight west. I did not want a second experience like the one this morning.

The girl seemed to trust me. Quietly, she followed. Her leather shoes were wearing thin and were becoming haggard. They did seem to still be of use as they made little sound treading along the foliage beneath. The sun was setting. We were only a day’s trek away from the waters.

The girl sat beneath an oak, laying her cloak beneath her. Seeing my eyes on her cloak, she spoke.

“You do not approve of the fur along my coat. I do not blame you. Be that as it may, humans need to stay warm, too. We need to survive.”

As she spoke, she unwrapped her linen, only crumbs remained of her rations.

“Well, I can make a day’s trek with no food. I’ve survived worse,” she said.

Fortuitously, hunting rabbits was a simple task for me. Twenty minutes later, I returned with three.

“You are a useful wolf,” she said when I returned.

I ate one of the rabbits. I sunk my teeth deep into its flesh, the juices warming my mouth.

The girl set to skinning the smaller two of the rabbits.

“You have it your way, I’ll have it mine,” she said, as I watched her remove the skins. “I will have to make a small fire. You are with me though, so I should be alright.”

She set to work collecting materials. Before long, she had a small fire going, with two skinny rabbits impaled on a stick. She rotated them in the licks of the orange flames. The shadows flickered off the trees, which stood like dark giants around us. I thought she must be glad to have the warmth, as nights were becoming cooler and darker.

“I’m going to the coast, to the port,” she said, turning her dinner over. “I’m sure you’ve realized. Thank you for guiding me.”

I stared at her. Resting on my stomach, I stretched my paws out in front of me.

She must have been able to tell I was relaxed, as she continued to speak.

“Rusla,” she said. “That’s my name.”

Deeming her food to be finished roasting, she peeled a piece of flesh off the back of a cooked rabbit. She put the fatty meat into her mouth, sucking the juices out as I did.

“I need to get to the docks tomorrow. I have a fleet arranged. You may want to stay hidden as we approach. There will be many men working on the array of ships.”

Rusla finished eating, licking her fingers. She found her flask and took a swig. She laid down with her back on her cloak.

The fire crackled and snapped. I watched her as she stared at the night’s sky. It was a clear night, the stars twinkled above. Impossible to count them, I wondered what she might be thinking.

As though reading my mind, she spoke again.

“Rieg was my father. Months ago, he was still king of the land bordering this forest. My brother Tesondus is the heir and he assumed the throne after my father was murdered.”

She stared at me, her small eyes boring into my great, yellow ones. How she knew I could understand her, I could not say.

“Tesondus was dethroned shortly after, sending our kingdom into chaos. I had to flee. The dirty usurper, Osmund, would kidnap me, claiming me as his new wife. I would never see the sky again, only the great dark walls of the keep. That is no fate for a girl like me.”

A wolf howled far in the distance. The girl continued.

“I am sure familial troubles are no foreign concept to you,” she smirked. “My sister is the wife of the Lord Agner. He is a great landholder just across the sea. She has arranged the ships for me. I will take them north where I will amass help, and I will take my brother’s throne back.”

I could not imagine how such a small girl could think of raising men to take back a kingdom for her dispossessed brother. However, her voice commanded attention. She was one you would listen to. Had she been a wolf as I am, she would compete for the spot of the Alpha.

Her eyes flickered knowingly. She seemed to have a plan.

“I do not know where my brother is now. But he will be biding his time. He will need my help, and I will see him again,” she said as she rolled onto her side to sleep.

At dawn the next morning, I placed a fresh rabbit atop her cloak.

“I can hunt, you know,” she said. “Still, I thank you, useful Wolf.”

After donning her cloak, she tucked her blade underneath her garb. I was leading her west to the boats, but still slightly off track to avoid detection. We were near.

As she followed behind me, I wondered what I would do when I left her. Would I stalk these woods or would I find new lands? The girl had a plan and I did not, yet I did not mind that. I had no master. I was my own.

Stopping at noon for a break, the girl sat. As I looked at her, she held out a hand. I did not move. She brushed my side with her hand. The sun was warm against my grey fur. I knew that from that point, I would always protect beings like her.

“My brother is an idiot,” she said. “But family is everything, and though I am small, I am mighty.”

We walked together until dusk. It was cold again but we were near the port. The scents of fish, of unwashed men, of smouldering fire and of rotting wood filled my senses. I would soon leave her. We were so close that we could hear men’s voices.

“That will be my fleet,” she said. “Thank you for guiding me here.”

Instead of moving forward, she stopped.

“I will go to my fleet hours after nightfall. I have arranged to meet the ship master after dark. That will be safer. The usurper does not need to hear news of my whereabouts.”

I eyed her. I did not believe meeting a strange man alone after dark would be any safer than approaching the men of the fleet while some daylight remained. But I was a wolf and she was a girl, and we did not think the same way.

Hours later, the night was dark as pitch. It was approaching the witching hour. The men on the ships were likely slumbering or tucked away in the warmth of the women they found at the port.

“I will go now, Wolf. Follow me up to the sand, but stay hidden. When I walk out to the ships, turn and go back. I will have no need for you from there.”

She touched my side, gripping my fur with a small fist, and then let go.

Quiet as a mouse, and lithe, the girl crept out onto the sand. I stayed hidden in the trees just beyond, as she instructed me to. I watched her go. A fleet of about twenty ships floated at the dock. A ship larger than the rest floated in the middle. I was sure that was where the ship master she needed to meet was waiting. It was silent besides the ebb and flow of the water.

But the girl, Rusla, did not go to the large ship. Water lapped against the shore as she disappeared into the shore. The ocean met with the wind’s breath, and together they began sending sharp whips into the air. I did not like my fur to be wet. I did not imagine it was any better on bare human skin.

Rusla approached the fleet. Before long I could see her figure atop of the smaller ship, just adjacent to the large. She stood still for a moment. I saw her toss something from the smaller ship to the larger. Next, she tossed something onto another small ship on the other side.

I saw her hop from ship to ship, tossing, and throwing. Before long, I could smell it.

Burning.

Flames began to lick the side of the large ship, and then the smaller ships. As flames quickly engulfed the mast of the large ship, men began to scream, to shout, to curse.

“FIRE!”

I watched in horror and confusion as fire passed from ship to ship, swiftly engulfing the fleet into the watery depths. Screams of horror and chaos filled the air. I did not hear the water’s waves any longer.

I began to back away from the beach, unsure of what had happened. Is this what Rusla intended? Was this some mistake?

Horses tied to the docks began running into the forest, screaming, neighing. They knew the danger. They felt the horror. Yet, it seemed to me that they were being actively untied. Saved.

Yes, somebody was crouched, untying horses, sending them into the night.

The screams of horses and men filled the night’s silence. The air was thick with smoke and with the smell of burning flesh and old wood.

That is when I saw her again.

Riding atop a great chestnut horse, Rusla approached me.

“This is where I say goodbye, Wolf. I have no qualm with the beasts. So, off they go. This stallion here, however, will be of use to me.”

She turned and looked at the destruction that had taken place at her hands.

“I have no use for borrowed ships, anyway,” she said.

She winked at me, and rode off into the night. I could see she rode north, in the direction of the greatest star in the sky.

That was the last I saw of the girl.

Days later, as I made my journey to the fjords of the north, I gathered the gossip of men as they passed news from port, to camp, to village.

“The old king’s daughter, aye,” they said. “Rusla. The terror of the night they are calling her. The Red Girl.” I heard one man whisper as he loaded barrels of fish.

Near a village tavern the next night, I heard more.

“The Red Girl. Tricked the usurping King Osmund. Arranged for his incognito pirating vessels to the port just south of here. Osmund knew she had fled, but he assumed she fled to her brother in law’s estates across the water,” said one man.

“But how did she trick Osmund? Why would he dock his ships without being sure of who arranged them?” said another.

“They say he was screaming into the night before it happened. Tortured by visions and voices, telling him what he needed to do with those vessels. They say his advisors warned against it..”

I was just a wolf. I had no desire to participate in the insanity of men. The wars and the horrors of those beings had naught to do with me.

Months later, the whispers of the men had changed. I had made my new home in the north. The rumors had followed me up to the ends of the land.

“The Red Girl. Rusla, the Red Pirate, they call her. The Terror of the Night. The Pirate Queen of the North Seas. They say she flies a sail upon her mast with a grey wolf on it. You see those sails on the water, and you feel the horror. King Osmund the usurper has fallen. The Red Girl has burned and ravaged all his fleets. He is finished, and Rusla who will always seek to avenge her family, is the terror of the waters.”