"A Wolf in the Fold"

By Bill Willingham

from Fables Legend in Exile trade paperback

(excerpt typed by Will and Sarah)

When the invaders flooded into the valley, the old wolf came down from his warm den in the high hills to see what all the fuss was about. It didn’t take him long to find the alien soldiers, for they tended to call attention to themselves. They wore suits of dark iron and marched in long, clattering ranks. They burned and pillaged wheresoever they went, enslaving those they could easily capture, while putting all others to the sword – those that resisted, to be sure, but also those who were too lame, too old, or too well educated to make able and subservient workers. The wolf took umbrage at these uncouth intruders, not only because they had the temerity to enter his territory uninvited, but also because they murdered wantonly, without craft or subtlety. In addition they killed or spirited away many of those living in the wooded valley that the wolf had marked in his mind to dine on one day, and such a breach of etiquette could not be endured.

In those days the wolf was still largely ruled by his belly, so he decided to sample a few of the invaders. They were easy enough to bring down, because, for all of his monstrous size, the wolf could strike with great stealth and cunning. In the deep woods between one isolated village and another, he picked off two stragglers as they marched behind a long column, biting easily through their shells of thick plate, and the ring-mail hauberks underneath, like a child crumbles autumn leaves. Once he’d stripped away the outer wrappings, he discovered misshapen, yellow-tusked gobliny things within. They screamed and pleaded and writhed well enough, as he savaged them, and their bones crunched satisfyingly, but their green and warty flesh was foul. Carrion three weeks rotting in the heart of summer tasted better than this!

That night, silent as a shadow, he crept into the army’s sprawling encampment, thinking that their more human-looking captains might prove more suitable to his refined palate. He whispered past the watch-fires, ragged troop tents, and posted sentries – both sleeping and alert – until, quite undetected, he reached the camp’s innermost ring, where the silken pavilions of the officers could be found. Choosing the biggest tent as the one most likely to house the sweetest confection, he leapt in, without so much as a breath of sound, and surprised a sleeper in his bed. He crunched the man’s head first, like a red ripe apple, stifling and possibility of alarm, and then settled in for a long, leisurely repast. But after only a few bites, even this man’s flesh proved unsuitable. It was tan and unblemished, but still carried a disturbing taint of corruption. The audacity of these people! Not only do they rob him of his preferred provender, but in turn they fail to provide anything approaching a suitable substitute?

The wolf’s rage grew, and long into the night he pondered what to do about it.

In the days that followed, the wolf made himself a determined enemy of the invaders. He ranged far and wide, striking in this place and that, in the dead of night, or under the bright daytime sun. There seemed no pattern to his predations, which only increased the dread sown amongst his new adversaries. Relentlessly he hunted the soldiers and their masters, wherever he could find them – and he found them in abundance, infesting every land and kingdom, no matter how far afield he wandered from his own familiar territory. He slaughtered most of those he caught without hesitation or mercy, but spared a few long enough for questioning. From these he learned little of value. They were the advance forces of a remote and unnamed power – known only to the troops as their emperor – for he was by all accounts a creature bold with ambition and sorcerous might who’d decided to carve for himself a single, grand empire out of all the disparate kingdoms of fable.

“Why do you contend so against us?” one captive pleaded as he struggled helplessly under the wolf’s massive forepaws. “For you are the very sort of monster we are commissioned to recruit into our ranks. You could rise high in the empire, commanding legions, or more!”

“Not interested,” the wolf growled in return. “Even the highest office in service to another is too low a station for me.” And with that the wolf sank his fangs into the captive’s neck. A single, irresistible shake ended the soldier’s tremors, instantly transforming living flash into wet carcass.

Years passed in this fashion. The wolf hunted where he would, and the invaders trembled in their tents. But for all of his rapacious success, the wolf was but a single creature, where the Emperor could field seemingly endless battalions. Lands were methodically conquered and consolidated into the empire, despite his constant harassment. At best he was but an irritant in his unseen adversary’s vast game of thrones.

Which isn’t to say that his personal campaign went unnoticed in whatever distant country had spawned the invasion. Entire companies of the Emperor’s most diabolical soldiers – trolls, giants and worse – were tasked with his capture or destruction. And when he eluded those, fell sorcerers and black-hearted warlocks were dispatched. He led them all a merry chase, and reflected from time to time that his life was good, all things considered.

~~~

This excerpt is roughly 25% of the total story. That is what Bill allowed me to type up and post. I can give you a short summary of the rest of the story, but I hesitate to do so because to get the full affect of the story – all the details and nuances of character – one should really read it, if at all possible. But I know many cannot afford the trade right now so here you go:

Next the wolf targets soldiers who are leading a line of prisoners. Among the prisoners are Snow White and Rose Red (the description of them is beautifully written). The wolf attacks and kills the soldiers. The prisoners panic, but Snow and Rose don’t. There’s a wonderful confrontation between the sisters and the wolf. The wolf frees the prisoners from their chains and shows them the way out of the homelands, but not before making sure they aren’t spies (to know how he does this, read the story!) A few centuries later, the wolf has also left the homelands and wanders in a wild place (you know what I’m going to say here: read the story! ^_~) He’s approached by Snow and a strange man who is constantly smoking a pipe and has a feather in his cap, Feathertop. They talk to him at quite some length. They have a way for him to become human. They finally convince him to help them in the new world, in a town called New Amsterdam. Lastly, there’s an interesting conversation between the wolf, in his new human form, and Feathertop.

That’s all the info I’m gonna give you. Go read the story for yourself and experience Bill’s wonderful writing style!