In a Wolf's Eyes

by A. Katie Rose

  “Here. Eat.”

  He took it in both hands and ate with savage abandon, much as I had. I chuckled.

  Waking Wolf was much more difficult, but I succeeded in getting him to sit up, helping him to lean back against a tree. He had not the strength to feed himself, so I cut small pieces of hot beef with my dagger and fed him slowly. As the meat roasted, Rygel and I sliced off the cooked portions, letting the rest continue to roast. Wolf chewed and swallowed methodically, taking no pleasure in the food as Rygel and I. He still managed a tiny smile, however, his good left eye warm as it caught mine.

  With nothing left of the haunch save bone and bits of tendon, I sat back against a tree and pillowed Wolf’s head on my lap. Rygel lay next to the fire, already snoring softly. I looked up at Bar, who sat nearby, watching me.

  “Wake us in two hours,” I murmured, my eyes drooping.

  His quiet chirp of assurance followed me into the depths of sleep.

  Chapter 15

  Theft of a Slave Girl

  I wanted naught more than to sleep away my pain for the next three days, or for the rest of my life. Whichever came first. I resisted Ly’Tana and Rygel’s attempts to get me up by curling into a tighter ball, my arm over my head. I half-listened to their curses, pleas and demands. Only when Rygel threatened to turn me into a lizard did I relent. I suspected the threat was empty, for I had heard them talking and knew Rygel’s reserves of power were very low. Even so, I decided not to test him, for he might have just enough to call upon.

  “No need to get nasty,” I mumbled, letting Ly’Tana help me to a sitting position.

  “Bloody great lummox,” Rygel growled.

  My head ached with a savage thumping fury. The vision from my left eye blurred, and I had none at all in my right. My snapped ribs, only half-healed by Rygel’s magic, continued to burn with a cold fire. I suspected I also still bled internally, for I felt continually felt cold, clammy and exceedingly nauseous. Every movement made the pain, and nausea, worse. While I wanted to sleep, I knew my weak state kept them in constant danger. That knowledge spurred me to my feet more than Rygel’s threats.

  I needed their help, however, my arms over their shoulders, to get up at all.

  “That’s it. You got it.”

  Ly’Tana’s encouragement and Rygel’s curses helped. Bar stepped toward me, and ducked his shoulder, inviting me to mount. I hated riding him like a horse, but knew I had no choice. He did not seem to mind, for he squawked an amiable greeting to me. His affable attitude failed to make me feel any better, though.

  The roasted meat Ly’Tana fed me threatened to return posthaste. Although I had not wanted it, was not hungry, I ate because it pleased her. Strangely, I liked pleasing her. It also gave me just strength enough to climb aboard Bar’s shoulders before giving out entirely.

  “Wolf?”

  Ly’Tana gazed up at me, worry etched over her dirty, blood-streaked yet beautiful features. I returned her what I hoped was a reassuring smile, though it felt lopsided to me. Maybe I only leered at her. However it might have looked, it worked. She smiled back and took my hand.

  “Bar, can you find an easy route down the escarpment?” Rygel asked, taking a position on my right. Ly’Tana took the left, still holding my hand.

  Bar rumbled and began to walk. I found it easier and more comfortable to lay forward on his neck, draping my arms down either side of his mane. He smelled pleasant, of warm musk and pine. His feathers pillowed my head rather nicely, with my right cheek half-buried in fur-feather luxury. Despite the darkness, I could see Ly’Tana dimly as she walked beside the griffin. I let the motion of his walk soothe me into a thin sleep driven by dark dreams.

  I woke a short while later to their voices and my name spoken. Try as I might, I could not wrap sleep about me again. I heartily wished they would not talk at all, and immediately quashed that irritation as unjust. They risked their own lives to save my useless hide after all.

  “—you care deeply for him.”

  “Of course I do,” Ly’Tana snapped, her voice annoyed.

  Now curious, I opened my eye to see her kitten teeth flashing dimly in the faint moonlight. “He saved Bar, he saved me—”

  “Not what I mean, Princess.” Rygel’s voice held amusement. “You are falling in love with him.”

  His words jolted me. She loved me? That cannot be right, Rygel must be wrong, he’s not always right, even if he thinks he is. What could she possibly see in me? Me, an ugly, scarred brute whose only talent was killing? I almost started up off Bar’s comfortable mane, but the horrid pain and weakness kept me down.

  “I ordered you to cease that mind link.”

  Rygel snorted laughter. “That broke when I changed you back into your human form.”

  “Then how—”

  “Your face, Princess. It confesses everything.”

  Ly’Tana fell silent. I peeped at her through my half-closed eye, seeing her toss her thick mane of hair over her shoulder. Not only was it too dark to read her expression, but I suspected she closed herself up tight, her expression tightly guarded. If Rygel read her easily, now she worked to make sure it never happened again.

  “He’s my brother now, Princess,” Rygel said, his voice low. “His secrets are mine, and I carry them to the grave. As are yours. My princess. My queen.”

  Rygel’s voice dropped lower. “I was wrong to despise you. You did naught to earn my hatred. Quite the opposite, in fact. You are worthy of my loyalty. And my love. You have both.”

  Ly’Tana did not speak. Whatever her thoughts were, she held them back, reined them in. I saw she walked with her head bowed low, her thick hair once more sliding forward in unruly fashion to hide her face.

  After a long silence, so long I thought neither of them would speak again, I began to drift once more into blessed unconsciousness. Rygel’s quiet voice broke out again, startling me awake. Of its own accord, my eye opened again and fastened it on her. I could not help it. I liked her, maybe even loved her a little. She came back for me. Against all odds, she came back for me: the useless, stupid slave who insulted her, who provoked her into a fight. She was beautiful, not just in looks but in spirit. Unattainable for one such as I. Slaves did not aspire to love princesses. Not in this world, in this time and place, they did not. No matter, that, I just liked looking at her, even in darkness and near death. I could look at her forever, and be content.

  “I am not without honor,” Rygel said. “All you know of me is what you learned at Lionel’s court. I am a king’s son, in my homeland.”

  That brought Ly’Tana’s head up sharply, turning swiftly toward his voice. Of course, she could not see him, for Bar’s height imposed itself between them. What her thoughts were, I could not read in the faint moonlight, with blurry vision and a head that threatened to split and spill my soupy brains down Bar’s big shoulder. What Rygel’s thoughts were, I could not sense. I heard his light tread in the dead leaves and undergrowth, felt his hand occasionally brush my aching head assessing my condition. The unconsciousness crept up on me, but I willed it back. For some vague reason, I needed to hear what he and she said to one another. This night, something important would happen.

  Rygel cleared his throat. “I reckon I should amend that. Raised as the king’s eldest son, I was his heir, until his death. My mother confessed her sin before my coronation. She declared me bastard, begotten by another man a few weeks before her marriage. She would not allow a bastard, even her own child, on the throne.”

  I could sense Ly’Tana listening intently, as was I. Even in the darkness, I saw her shadowed eyes looking forward, her head slightly cocked to catch every word. My pain receded as I listened intently. What I knew of him became much clearer now, and I felt I could now understand what drove him.

  “My brother rules Khassart now,” he went on, his voice low. “My mother’s legitimate son: my half-brother, Rhys. He wanted me to stay at his side, for we were close. I left without even saying goodbye. I was…bitter.

&nbs
p; “I roamed various countries for a time, drinking, wenching, achieving naught at all useful. After a year or so, I made my way here. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “Did Lionel and Brutal know?”

  “Of my heritage? Aye.”

  They both fell silent for a time, walking on through the thinning forest. Ly’Tana still held my hand. Rygel still touched my head occasionally. I doubted either of them knew I lay awake and listening. I suspected they would perhaps cease their conversation if they did.

  “The blood of those people I tortured will forever haunt me,” Rygel said. “My hatred for Brutal is naught compared to the hatred I feel for myself. I was so stupid, so bloody stupid—”

  “Rygel,” Ly’Tana began.

  “Nay, spare me your forgiveness. I deserve none. Had I not believed in Brutal’s innocence when I first met him, had I not fallen in love with a witch…” He barked a coarse laugh. “And to think my heart still loves her, in some small way.”

  “Despite all, you do deserve forgiveness,” Ly’Tana said softly. “You had no choice in what you did.”

  “Princess, I apologize.” His voice held an odd note in it, an emotion I could not identify. “For saying—that—about your goddess. I should not have. Can you forgive me that much?”

  Ly’Tana spoke simply. “I already have.”

  A new silence fell between them, a more comfortable silence, I thought.

  “He does not know how to love,” Rygel said after a time.

  Ly’Tana’s laugh held tears. “Neither do I.”

  “All he knows is killing.”

  Her voice, when she spoke, was almost so low and soft I almost didn’t hear it. “The only two men who ever loved me are dead. I killed them.”

  If I heard, Rygel’s keen hearing certainly did. “What happened, Princess?”

  She did not answer. Perhaps baring her feelings to a near stranger, a man who not long ago was her enemy, was quite enough. I heard her audible swallow and teary sniff. I felt little surprise that she changed the subject.

  “Back there,” she said slowly. “You said killing with magic is forbidden.”

  Rygel remained silent, his tread through the undergrowth still steady. I felt his fingers brush my neck. When I asked the same question back at the inn, all I received was a snarl and a scowl and silence. No snarl emerged. If she received a scowl, I could not see it, as my back was to him and it was dark. Ly’Tana had more courage than I, I thought, for she plowed ahead despite the warning silence.

  “Why is this forbidden?”

  I doubted he would answer her, for it obviously was a very sore subject with him. Like most things. I felt surprise when he sighed deeply. While I thought his voice would sound bitter, he spoke as though he were a teacher instructing an interested and apt pupil.

  “Two thousand or more years ago, the wizards in my land fought the ruling nobility for supremacy in my homeland, Khassart. While they had magic in their hands, the nobles had the vast numbers of highly disciplined soldiers. After years of bloodshed, the wizards eventually lost the wars. The victors placed heavy constraints on those wizards who survived. Forbidden to use magic, forbidden to hold land, forbidden weapons, forced to work as near slaves, that sort of thing. Time moves on, as it always does, and people began to forget the past. After years uncounted, most of these limitations fell by the wayside as wizards and their non-magical neighbors grew to trust one another again. Wizards and ordinary people worked side by side. Wizards eventually gained titles of nobility, and now the throne. Most restrictions collapsed under the weight of time, became less important and grew extinct.

  “Except one very important constraint. That of killing by magic.”

  She waited patiently for him to continue as he fell silent once more. I watched her listen to him in the faint light of the moon, her expression less guarded.

  “When a baby is born to magical parents, it is spelled with a curse. If that magician were to kill with magic one day, the curse would fall. And kill him. No one knows when or how. Just that the curse will catch up and the killer’s justice is found.”

  “You have killed? With magic?”

  “I have.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  Now the silence from Rygel held enough tension that even I could feel it. I could sense his torment, his grief, his guilty self-loathing. I almost sat up, needing to reach out to him as a friend and a brother. My lack of anything resembling strength kept me down across Bar’s broad shoulders.

  “I will tell you, Princess.” Rygel spoke heavily. “But not here. Not now. Not after—all this.”

  Her nod of acceptance blurred in the darkness with my vision. “Perhaps it is best, if you do not.”

  “Nay,” Rygel murmured. “I will tell you both, you and Raine, together. I just cannot bear to tell it twice.”

  Bar’s body tilted downward, informing me we had reached the escarpment and began the trek downhill. I wondered vaguely if I would slide off over his neck, but both Rygel and Ly’Tana each seized a shoulder, keeping me firmly in place. The downward tilt sent blood rushing into my head, causing an almost unbearable flare of agony. Dizziness spiraled out of control, almost resulting in the loss of Ly’Tana’s carefully fed meal. When the darkness came to claim me, I gratefully let it.

  * * *

  Voices. Flaring torches. Hands. Grasping. Lifting me. Carrying me. Ly’Tana’s voice saying, “Be careful with him.” Another voice, I thought it was Kel’Ratan or even Rygel, “He’s bleeding.” The voices blended, merged with one another, mixed into a distant babble devoid of meaning. Perhaps they were the voices of the gods, beyond the stars. I felt more movement, the touch of a cool cloth on my face. There was Ly’Tana’s voice again, swimming up from the depths of the distant babble, “Oh, Wolf.” A warm droplet slid down my cheek amidst the cool moisture. Rygel’s voice clear in my ear, “Princess, I must have room.”

  Slowly, the voices, the flaring lights, the movement, all faded with the pain, the nausea and the endless spinning darkness.

  Snoring. The sound intruded into the darkness around me, violating the sweet pain-free unconsciousness. The sound grated on my ears. Deep, dragging snores, annoying, waking me when I’d rather sleep. I groaned, trying to cover my ears with my arm, to block out the obnoxious sound.

  “He’s awake.”

  “Wolf?”

  I recognized Ly’Tana’s voice, a near whisper above me and to my right. Delicate ghostly fingers brushed lightly across my brow. I blinked, seeing her face framed by her hair, blinking until the three Ly’Tanas I saw first merged finally into one. Green eyes tilted upward at the corners, dirty, blood-streaked skin cleaned only where her tears had tracked down her cheeks. Her red-gold hair dirty, tangled and snarled with dirt, and bits of twigs and leaves, hung low enough to tickle my nose. The warm light in her eyes and the smile she had waiting for me was worth far more than my much-needed sleep.

  “Hey,” I mumbled.

  “Hey.”

  I looked past her to Kel’Ratan’s face and red hair, leaning over her shoulder to gaze down at me. His mustache bristled.

  “I expect you’ll make it,” he rumbled, his smile not much more than a grimace.

  “Where are we?” I asked, my throat raw and my voice hoarse. I could see stone walls about us, gray-green moss on the dank rock. A slate floor, with traces of old rushes strewn about. I lay on a pallet of straw, I found, covered in a thick blanket. The source of the wicked snores was none other than Rygel, lying on his back near me, mouth open as his resonating snores continued. While my vision still blurred, I found I could see with both eyes.

  “The old Jefe Monastery,” Kel’Ratan replied, glancing around. “We camped here before, and waited here while they went to fetch you back. Rygel said the monks who prayed and farmed here had been slaughtered soon after Theodoric came to the High Priesthood of Usa’a’mah.”

  “I remember.”

  It hurt to talk. Ly’Tana seemed to sense this, for she
seized a heavy mug and held it to my dry lips. “Rygel ordered that you drink this when you woke up, and then sleep some more.”

  “Can’t sleep with that bloody ruckus going on.”

  She chuckled. “Roll him over.”

  She spoke over her shoulder. Kel’Ratan booted Rygel in the ribs. Rygel obediently rolled on his side and the snoring immediately ceased. She lifted my head with one hand and held the mug while I drank it greedily. It held spicy wine, with something bitter beneath the taste. Nonetheless, it felt wonderful in my aching throat and I drank it all.

  “He said it has something to help you sleep,” she said. “He’s been working his magic on you, little by little. It’s worn him out.”

  She glanced fondly at the slumbering Rygel, then back at me. Fondly? The last time she looked at him, her expression said she wanted to wear his hide for a cloak. “Now that you’re getting better, maybe I can sleep now. I couldn’t before.”

  “And bathe,” Kel’Ratan rumbled. “You stink something awful.”

  “That too,” she murmured, unruffled. “Now go to sleep, Wolf.”

  I had no need to argue with that particular command. The potion Rygel mixed worked quickly. Within moments, I once more saw three Ly’Tanas, my eyes wanting to close on their own. I fought it briefly. I still liked looking at her. Even all three of her.

  “What’s the time?” I muttered thickly.

  “Just after sunrise,” Ly’Tana answered. “Now sleep. Consider it a command.”

  “Shrew.”

  “Pig.”

  Amusement bubbled up even if the laughter could not erupt. Her hand, warm in mine, squeezed tightly, almost hard enough to hurt. Three Ly’Tanas smiled down at me, with three Kel’Ratans stern faces looking down over her shoulder. Had I wanted to disobey her command, I had neither the will nor the strength for it. Darkness wrapped itself about me and I sank deep into its folds.

  * * *

  Two restful days later found me sitting on the garden wall of the old monastery, baking in the warm morning sun before the summer’s heat turned the day into torment. After sleeping nonstop, drinking Rygel’s potions when I woke, and feeling his healing power work through me, the pain finally gave up the ghost and left. Now after a bath, a shave and a decent meal served by Rannon, I felt almost my old self again.