Free Abomination by Gary Whitta

heroism and duty,” Wulfric replied. “I prefer to think of it as the latter.”
    “Chiswick is my most senior military advisor and chief spy-master,” said Alfred. “Very little happens in the kingdoms without his knowledge. He has been endeavoring to keep track of Aethelred since his escape. Chiswick?”
    Chiswick unrolled a map of lower England across the table, positioning goblets and candlestick holders at its corners to holdit in place. The map was heavily adorned with annotations in Chiswick’s own hand.
    As he studied it, Wulfric was immediately taken back to the Danish war. Often had he stood in Alfred’s tent with the King and his war council studying campaign maps and discussing strategy. The more senior of Alfred’s advisors had bristled at a commoner being invited to such high-level meetings, but Alfred, having come to know Wulfric after Ethandun, had insisted on it.
All these nobles and knighted men tell me only what they think I want to hear
, he had told the young Wulfric.
Their desire to win my favor by constantly agreeing with me will get us all killed. I need men courageous enough to disagree with me when I am wrong
.
    And so Wulfric had done as he was asked and spoken the truth as he saw it. Alfred’s highborn advisors had had no choice but to suffer his presence, restricting their objections to furtive looks among themselves, particularly when the King took Wulfric’s advice over their own.
    “Aethelred left here with six of our own men that he perverted to his will,” Chiswick said, pointing to Winchester on the map. “That was twenty days ago. Since then we have received numerous reports of disturbances throughout the northeast quarter of Wessex. Commonfolk fleeing their homes, claiming to have been attacked by rabid beasts like none they have ever seen. With each fresh report, the number of beasts grows. I believe Aethelred is working his way toward the Danelaw border, and that his army grows larger with each new town and village he enslaves along his route.”
    To Wulfric it all still seemed so unbelievable. He had sat in dozens of military briefings just like this one, and yet nothing like it at all. This was more like something from a nightmare, or a ghost story told around the campfire by journeymen to frighten one another. It could not be real, and yet he could not deny what he had seen with his own eyes. It took a while for his mind, still racing, to focus and find its first question.
    “How large is his force, by the most recent report?”
    “The villagers we have spoken to are not the most reliable,” Chiswick answered. “Many are in shock, babbling. But the most coherent among them said they reckoned close to a hundred.”
    Wulfric took a moment to contemplate that. A hundred of those . . . 
things
 . . . such as he had seen in Alfred’s dungeon? The thought chilled him.
    “Where is he now?”
    “The last known sighting was here,” replied Chiswick, gesturing to a small town about sixty miles short of the boundary where Wessex ended and the Danelaw began. “At his present rate, he could be at the Danes’ border by month’s end.”
    “And his intention when he gets there?” Wulfric asked.
    “He first proposed this force of beasts as a deterrent against another Danish invasion,” said Chiswick. “But now . . . I hesitate to try to predict the actions of a man so clearly mad, but I believe he intends to launch some kind of preemptive attack into their territory.”
    “If he seriously intends to attack the Danish on their own ground with so small a force, I suspect this problem will take care of itself soon enough,” offered Wulfric.
    “A hundred may not seem like many,” said Alfred, “but in our experience, just one of these beasts is the match of a dozen armed men. Who knows how many more Aethelred will have acquired by the time he reaches the Danelaw? With this power he employs, his enemies do not fall on the battlefield—
they become his allies
.