The Wolves Rejoicing

 Ulrich thought the full moon on the snow was beautiful.  The night was as silent as his shadow that stretched across the drifts.

A distant, lonely call of a wolf floated over the hills, and a snatch of an old song came to mind along with a memory of dark northern nights around the fire in his father's long house.

We fought with spears,
'Neath the snowy peaks.
Our shields were bloody:
Our swords were notched.
Showers of arrows we endured, though some were pierced.
And among the swords and cries, 
Malkinir fell in the conflict,
A greater king never was.
Wide on the snow lay the newly dead:
And we heard the wolves rejoicing.




///

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