A Wolf in the Dark

by S E Turner

  'The wolf works well in a pack, he is protective and strong, and he is a good hunter and a good provider, I believe this animal would serve me best.'

  'I think that is a fine totem for you.'

  Zoraster entered the room to administer his healing potions to the ageing leader. He knew by the anxious look that hung on the boy's faces that they had been informed of some disturbing news.

  'Have you told them?' He asked inquisitively, busying himself around the leader, and setting out his utensils in perfect alignment.

  'I have.'

  'About time, too, they should have been told a long time ago.'

  'Yes, I was wondering why you didn't tell us sooner, Father,' interjected Namir. 'You have known about this for some time.'

  'I kept telling him, Namir. I really did,' interrupted Zoraster massaging a pulp of warm birch bark onto the leader's swollen knee. 'He was always saying that the time wasn't right.'

  'Yes, yes, I should have told you before now. I'm sorry. I have had a lot on my mind.' The old man stammered.

  'Well, we know now,' answered Namir.

  'And Lyall, are you all right? I mean with what you've discovered… what a revelation for you,' Zoraster continued.

  'Yes, it was a shock, I can't deny it, but I'm all right,' replied the boy.

  Laith suddenly twitched his leg and moved it out of the way. 'Careful, Zoraster. You might be doing more damage than you realise there.'

  Zoraster stopped what he was doing instantly and looked up at Laith. From the old man's fearful expression, Zoraster knew Laith hadn't told the boys everything and lowered his gaze in disappointment. 'I'm glad you're all right, Lyall,' his voice softened. 'You are stronger than you think.' He put a cloth over the dressing and stood up. 'Is there anything else you wish me to do today?'

  'Yes, there is actually,' said a weary Laith. 'It has been decided that Lyall should have his own totem tattoo. Could you do that for us now?'

  'Of course, I can. What is it to be?'

  The response was unanimous. 'The Wolf.'

  Chapter Nine

  The winter finally released its frozen grip and the last icy breaths that covered the land were exhaled. Fresh ripe buds on the trees heralded the spring awakening, and the pulse of the earth quickened as life started to pump through the soil once again. New shoots and a variety of colours patch-worked the contours of barren grey moors while the sun made a welcome appearance and beat off the blistering attack of winter. Rivers thawed and ran freely. Shivering, transparent icicles slowly dripped away. Evergreens pumped up their sagging branches; shaking off their top hats of moulded snow. Mythical plants, robbed of their identity, were exposed once again, and bushes that had been concealed for months reappeared. The animals were back in the meadows, and a spring cleaning ritual began in the huts.

  Many hands made light work as they swept out the stagnant stale straw, the old embers, and the animal hairs. The chimney was brushed. The floor was scrubbed. The eating area was cleaned. All the coverings used for keeping out the driving rain and bitter cold were hung out and beaten rigorously to get rid of the accumulating mould and the stench of confined animals. Doors were left open to welcome in the new season and the fresh air burst in.

  The clan boys had been hunting in the frozen woods as much as they could, but tracking was almost impossible. Instead they spent most of their days forging weapons, repairing worn fences, and preparing the camp for an attack as Laith had requested.

  The great man approached Namir and Lyall a few days into the thaw. 'Pack a few provisions to keep you going. We are going on a little trip this morning.'

  'How long for, Father?' asked Namir.

  'Just for the day. We will be back by dusk.'

  Lyall raised an eyebrow, Namir furrowed his, but both obeyed the orders.

  Namir packed some dried meat mixed with clean rendered fat and dried fruit wrapped in greased animal skin. He didn't know if the opportunity would arise to hunt, so better to have something wholesome and nutritious to eat on the way. Lyall carried the treated gut of a boar. It served as a serviceable water container that was duly filled. Their weapons had been seared and lathed for practice sessions—now they were ready to go.

  It was mid-morning by the time they left the enclosure and headed towards the mountains. Laith was steadying ancient, shaking legs with a well-used gnarled walking stick as he took each intrepid step. They trooped down the wooded flanks of the foothills and reached the plains while the sun was still rising.

  By noon, they were tracking a narrow canyon, following the path of boulders and jagged rock faces. An hour later, the view opened up, and the trio stood at the edge of a spectacular precipice with humps of bearded moss clinging onto its surface, where tendrils of green, germinated from the growth, and entwined itself beneath a veil of silver-grey spray. Estuaries were flanked by paths and glades, and the green of the land was splashed with a rainbow of mouth-watering colours. Herds of grazing animals roamed freely, and the raptors drifted effortlessly across the pale horizon.

  Laith breathed in deeply. 'There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you have changed yourself.'

  'What is this place, Father?'

  'This is sanctuary, Namir. A very special place which I shared with your mother.'

  Lyall's face fell to the floor, looking awkward and uncomfortable as he tucked into his snack.

  'We would come here often. No one else knew about it. We were totally alone.'

  Namir smiled.

  'It was a haven in a sea of tranquility.

  Lyall felt even more uncomfortable and tried to concentrate on the scenery.

  'It was many years ago that we fell in love. By the time we were eighteen, we were betrothed to be married. Of course, we did wrong by consummating before the ceremony, but we loved each other so very much, and this place overpowered us. It seemed so natural.' He stalled as those precious moments flooded his mind again.

  'On the eve of the wedding, our settlement was attacked. It was in a different place to where we are now, and I was taken prisoner.'

  'Who by?' asked his son, hanging onto his every word.

  'Emperor Gnaeus of Ataxata. He wanted to know where the Seal of Kings was.'

  'How would you know that, Father?' The tone in Namir's voice was incredulous.

  'Because my father was a king, and on his death bed, the seal was given to his eldest son, my brother. Your mother lived in the castle with us—she was the daughter of one of the ladies in waiting. My brother and I both loved her. When my brother became king, your mother and I left to start our own lives in a clan. We had always yearned the freedom of living off the land, and we had planned it for so long. Zoraster and a few others came with us, and the rest is history, so to speak.'

  'And the Emperor wanted you to divulge his whereabouts?'

  'Yes, Namir. An informant told him that a clan member was the brother of a king. He didn't know which king or where his castle was, but I was of use to the Emperor. But I kept to my story that I was a penniless nomad, and that the informant was misinformed. How could I put a death sentence on my own brother? The consequences would have been catastrophic.'

  Lyall began to listen in on the story—his chin wrinkled, and his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the unfolding saga .

  'The General wasn't there then. He would have undoubtedly killed me. Instead, the Emperor imprisoned me for two years in the deepest dungeon in the Palace of Ataxata. I spoke to no one. I had no contact with anyone except the guards who threw a daily ration of bread and water into my cramped cell.'

  'How did you survive?'

  'A belief in the protection of my totem, a hunger to live, and the thought of your mother and my unborn child. All of those things. But every day, the guard asked me if I wanted to talk to the Emperor, and every day, I said I had nothing to say.'

  'What about mother? What did she do?'

  'She thought I was dead. She thought I had been ki
lled or drowned, or something equally grotesque, and for a long time after, I wished that the Emperor had killed me. I had lost everything. I thought that the gods had punished me for consummating before my marriage.'

  'So, what did she do?' Namir almost whispered.

  'She was expecting a baby. The camp was a decimated ruin. The people that survived the attack were trying to salvage what little they had. She was alone and scared, so she went to my brother, the king.'

  'Did he take her in?'

  'Yes, he did. He had always loved her. We had both loved her. She was beautiful, charming, witty, clever—all those things—but she chose me. She loved my nomadic ways and the freedom I craved back then.'

  'And he was happy to bring up another man's son?'

  'It was his brother's son, and he loved her. He was a good and decent man. '

  'So how come I am with you then, Father?'

  'Because when I was released, I knew what she would have done. I went to my brother to see her. I wanted her to come back with me. But she had a new life. She was married. She was a queen now. She didn't want to bring dishonour to herself or my brother. He had taken her in when she was vulnerable, when she was carrying my child. She owed him so much.' He looked deep in reverie at the memory. 'I asked if I could take my son back with me, which she allowed.'

  'She gave me up?' choked a startled Namir.

  'She did, my boy. She gave you to me because she loved me and wanted me to have something that was ours. She couldn't take everything from me and leave me with nothing.'

  He saw the tears well up in Namir's eyes. Then the old man looked at Lyall. 'But she didn't have just one son. She had twin boys, and she kept you, Lyall, the first born by a few minutes... So that you would be the next king.'

  The earth suddenly stopped moving. Time stood still. The spectacular scenery froze in an instant. Namir was visibly shocked as he digested the revelation. Lyall looked at him in disbelief, and a nourished mouth went dry. He had listened intently but hadn't even imagined that it was the same castle, the same seal, and the same king and queen as his own.

  The old man took a pendant from his pocket and opened it for Lyall to see.

  'It's my mother,' his voice was barely a whisper .

  Namir peered at it. He had seen it many times before. As a child, he always wanted to see the beautiful lady he knew as mother. An exquisite miniature painting of an enchanting woman with ruby red lips, long dark hair, and the most captivating smile that would melt the ice off the highest peaks. 'This is my mother, too.'

  'You are twin brothers, and by an incredible twist of fate, you have been reunited, and I have at last been able to look after you both.'

  The boys looked at each other, then they looked at their father. The crushing pause that followed was unbearable. Lyall's initial impulse was to run into Laith's arms and sob with joy—the man who had saved him and had given him salvation, who had given him strength and hope, who had protected him vehemently from Suma and Targ. He loved him dearly. But he already had a father who had loved him and nurtured him, and for the past year and a half, he had been mourning his death.

  Now he wanted to run away. But apart from scaling the mountain in front of him, all he could see were swaying trees and waterfalls that forged down into winding streams. Beyond that was nothing, a vast open space where he would be lost, alone, and vulnerable again. He remembered that feeling. That crushing avalanche of absolute terror that would never leave his soul. Every single day he had thanked the gods for his good fortune, how he had been given a new family, the strong relationships he had made, and the skills he had learned. And all that was because of Namir and Laith. He should be rejoicing because they were his family, but he couldn't. He was confused. Why hadn't Laith told him sooner. All that time he knew, so why didn't he say anything? The thoughts spiralled round his head until he was quite dizzy. Nothing made any sense. Eventually the words erupted like an awakened volcano.

  'Why didn't you tell me?'

  'Yes, Father, why?' echoed an equally confounded Namir.

  'Please, listen. Please try and understand.' Laith took a breath to compose himself. 'When you arrived here—shocked, frightened and very scared—you had been through a terrifying ordeal. You had just lost both your parents. I had lost my dear brother and the woman I had loved for all my life. And yes, I hadn't seen them for many years, but I knew where they were. I knew they were alive. But now...' He choked backed the swallow.

  Lyall felt his pain. He was dealing with his own. He gave the silence time to breathe.

  '....it was just never the right time.' Laith shrank in despair.

  The two boys looked at each other, and then at Laith.

  'Please understand Lyall, I did it to protect you.' Laith sniffed back the emotion.

  Lyall kicked a stone and followed it to its resting place. Namir remained silent.

  'Why didn't you stay in the castle with us?' Lyall chastised himself immediately for asking such a juvenile question. But Laith answered him anyway.

  'How could I live alongside the woman I loved, watching her live her life with another man? How would Canagan have felt with my eyes on them at every turn, knowing that I was your real father and not him? No, I had to go back. Besides, the call of the wild beckons me. I live off the land, I hunt by the spear, and I live by the sun and the moon. I respond to nature. Your mother was like that once.' He paused at the memory. 'My brother Canagan had a responsibility to the crown and he honoured that position. He was a good man and an exemplary king.'

  'But we could have kept in contact. I had a brother and a mother there,' said Namir, following the line of each stone that Lyall threw with his own.

  His father saw the agony. 'I know, it was such a hard decision to make, but for the same reasons I couldn't stay, those are the same reasons we couldn't keep in contact. There was the safety aspect as well by then. Someone had told the Emperor about me. Someone had committed treason against the crown. You must remember that not everyone is good and honourable, happy with the simple things in life, and content with what they have been given. There are so many that will go to sadistic and brutal lengths for recognition and status.' His thoughts turned to the monsters, who, in his lifetime had caused the misery of so many. 'I had already witnessed the horrors of the Emperor's rule, and we couldn't risk it again. We needed to keep the Seal safe with Canagan. I moved the clan to where we are now, to be nearer to the cave, but if anyone had seen us going in and out of there, word could have spread, and we would all have been put in danger.'

  'So that's why the horror stories of cave dwellers were told to us as children,' said Namir.

  'Yes, so no one would ever go in there. '

  'The Emperor found out about the castle though, didn't he, and massacred everyone in it.'

  'I know, son. Like I say, it's difficult to trust everyone.'

  They both looked at Lyall.

  'How did the tunnel get there in the first place?' Lyall was still firing stones into the abyss.

  'Long ago, the fortress of the castle had been undermined, and a tunnel ran beneath its foundations. It led to the entrance of a cave by the river, which you both know. It was built as a safe passage for the king and his heirs. When we said our goodbyes, we swore it would only be used in the case of extreme danger. That's why they sent you to me.'

  Lyall wiped at the sting in his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat as a song played in his head. 'The lullaby,' he murmured. 'That's why Skyrah sang it and said it was passed down from you.'

  'Oh, yes, the lullaby.' Laith drew a thin smile on a melancholy face. 'Artemisia's mother sang it to her. It's so beautiful.' The boys could see him reminiscing. 'So beautiful.'

  Silence resumed as the boys digested this information and Laith eased a heavy heart. They were all immersed in their own thoughts. The boys stopped firing stones.

  'Forgive me for keeping you two apart and keeping your true parentage a secret for all these years. At the time, we all thought it was the be
st thing to do. I am not sure it was now.'

  The Giant's Claw loomed over them, its body aching with the weight of a thousand tales as it stretched high into the sky, pushing to release its secrets. Below, a frail old man was trying to do the same.

  'Only Zoraster knows about this, now that my brother and Artemisia have gone.'

  A shiver of snow cried down the mountain side. An eagle came into view and the sun reflected on its seraph wings.

  'Of course, Zoraster. That time in your hut. He thought you had told us about this, and not the General,' said Namir, trying to stifle the irony of it. 'No wonder he suddenly went quiet.'

  'Yes, I remember the awkward silence that day. I thought he had hurt your leg,' recalled Lyall.

  Laith looked to the ground. 'I know. I'm sorry. Please forgive me.'

  The eagle floated by and was joined by another. They swooped and soared together. They owned the skies. This was their domain.

  'There is nothing to forgive,' hailed Namir. 'You are my father, and I respect you. You have always chosen the right path. I cannot sit here and judge you. I am still a boy with much to learn in your eyes, and I know you were protecting me. I have always been proud of you and still am.' Then he turned to Lyall. 'And I am so proud that you are my brother, Lyall. On the day we found you, I said to Skyrah that you were like me—little did I know then how true that statement was. To share the same parentage with one as strong and as fearless as you is an honour.'