‘Get out of here, Morgra,’ she cried bitterly. ‘Haven’t you done enough harm? You can never be a member of our pack. Fooling with legends! Spreading rumours and superstition. Go back to the Balkar and your superstitions and your lies. Go back and leave my family in peace, or I shall kill you myself.’
Morgra drew back a little but there was no fear in her eyes, only the steely glint of hate. But those eyes began to flicker.
‘Your family?’ she hissed, and Huttser fancied he heard a note of genuine fear in Morgra’s voice. ‘And only a family. ..’
Suddenly, there was a crash in the heavens and a bolt of living electricity forked past the wolves. It struck a tree above Morgra and the darkness blazed with fire. The whole pack shrunk back and Larka and Fell looked up in astonishment at the burning branches.
‘So be it,’ cried Morgra smiling delightedly, the shadows from the burning tree dancing around her scarred muzzle.
‘You have chosen your own destiny, Palla. And since you cannot forget the past, then let it return to haunt you – as Wolfbane always returns, the friend of the dead. For you shall truly learn of the past, Palla, when the Searchers are summoned.’
The cubs’ ears pricked up immediately.
‘For they are waiting, Palla, in the cave of the dark, now and always. They are with us here. They wait in dreams and in nightmares, watching and judging. They prowl angrily through the shadows, at the gates of death, waiting to pounce on the living.’
The pack thought Morgra had lost her wits but they were too terrified to do anything but stand gawking at her in the pouring rain. The flames on the tree were dying again, fizzling into silence.
‘You talk of bones whitening to feed the crows. Then let them be your bones, scavenged by the creatures of the air. When Wolfbane comes. When the final power is unleashed.’ Suddenly there was a flapping of black wings above Morgra’s head.
‘And let this be my real birthing gift to you, Palla. For I curse your family and your pack.’
‘Huttser,’ whispered Brassa, trembling all over, ‘for Tor’s sake stop her.’
‘By Wolfbane I curse you. By the power of the Sight, the power that has cursed me all my life. Your little ones shall grow and as they do you shall all suffer. One by one your pack will be broken, until you are ready to give me the cubs. And if you do not, they too shall reap your fate.’
‘Stop her!’ cried Brassa again.
Before they could do anything, Morgra threw her head up and let out a howl that seemed to rock the ravine. Then, in a voice full of malevolence, she hissed.
‘May the past that’s dark with crimes, bring revenge in future times!’
The words sent a strange shudder through the old nurse.
‘The Sight,’ Brassa snarled as though she had been bitten, turning her face to the clouded moon and the drenching heavens.
‘Morgra,’ whispered Palla. ‘Please, Morgra.’
Huttser and Palla started to move forward. The pack came too and, as she spoke, Morgra began to back away. She was set at a slight angle to the path and now her hind legs were getting closer and closer to the drop.
Her eyes took on a glassy, faraway look, as though she were no longer addressing the pack, but talking to the whole world. The others were horrified as they watched Morgra. She paused for a moment and then, as she looked at the wolves coming towards her, the light of triumph woke in her eyes and she cried out again.
‘Fear and guilt – here begun, let them break you, one by one.’
Morgra gave a violent snarl and the words ‘one by one’ turned into a howl that shook through her whole body. Then suddenly she turned. Before they could follow her Morgra had vanished into the dark. The pack stood trembling and shivering in the deluge, the cubs curling around themselves in terror, and Morgra’s curse seemed to hover above them, broken only by the distant screech of a raven as it circled into the deepening night.
3 - Hunters
‘The courtyard of a vast, ruined castle, from whose tall, black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.’ Bram Stoker, Dracula
It was summer proper and so hot that even the trees seemed to sweat. The river shrugged through the valley below the strange castle, alive with gnats and gadflies wheeling and flitting over the lazy waters, the only sound to disturb its course the sudden plash-plop of a fish as it burst from the gloomy depths to take a bite and disappeared again into the murk. It was as though the river itself contained some strange secret now as it wound through the valley, a secret held in its waters and the creatures that lived within it, in the earth banks that formed its course, and among the wolf pack that now lived on its edge.
Huttser had found the cubs a Meeting Place, by an abandoned fox set in a mound of raised earth by the river, shielded by small copse of poplar trees. Here they had begun to learn their first real lessons about adult life, scouting after ants and beetles and going on mock hunts. They were even nearer to the castle than before and on the same side of the river. For along while the cubs had not been allowed to wander further than a hollow log near the river bank though, and they were all thoroughly bored with the place.
Kar was lying by the river, and Fell and Larka were asleep together not far off. While Kar looked like a normal grey wolf, Fell’s coat was a pure black, in striking contrast with his sister’s. Larka’s coat had lightened and just a few streaks of black and grey muddied the white. All the children were now the size of large dogs.
The sun after Morgra had cursed the pack, Khaz had climbed high into the mountains and spied a wolf travelling north again. He was certain it was Morgra, for he had watched the raven flapping after her. Since then, they had seen no more of Morgra. But Khaz had not seen the raven suddenly wheel round in the air and head south once more. The news that the First Wolf had left their hunting territory had done something to settle Huttser, and he had told the pack time and again that they had nothing to fear from her words. Indeed, he had forbidden them to discuss the curse at all.
But this legend of the Sight, of a Man Varg and some final power frightened the others, especially Brassa, and a sense of foreboding hovered like a vulture over the pack. The nights would often bring thoughts of Wolfbane and of Morgra’s terrible threats, like unseen spectres padding from the trees. It made Huttser furious when any of them spoke of the legend, and he insisted that the shadow of fear that Morgra was trying to instil in them had passed. But Palla could still not understand why, if Morgra had come to the Stone Den in search of human prey and some strange legend, she had asked to join their pack at all.
Palla had begun to think that this legend did have something to do with them and that was the reason Morgra had wanted to get to her cubs. Palla could not fathom it at all but she remembered what Brassa had said of the powers of the Sight re-emerging in more than one and kept arguing with Huttser and watched the children carefully. As the days drifted on and the cubs grew, Palla noticed nothing odd about either of them, though, and gradually her fears began to abate.
As for the rest of the pack, with the exception of Brassa, the summer itself had largely dispelled the sense of ill omen. The wolves had seen little more of Man and there was no sign of the Balkar at all. Huttser had begun to mark the pack territory too, with Khaz, Skop and Bran, leaving their skats and scent wherever they could to warn off other wolves, and it had helped to reassure the Dragga.
From the mountains the male wolves had looked out across Transylvania on to the wide flat plains to the South, which stretch from the Iron Gates as far as the Danube delta and, climbing higher and higher, even to the great Transylvanian Heath to the north. Here in the far distance they saw walled Saxon towns and Magyar strongholds, strange onion domes that glinted like the sun and pretty Vlach villages strewn like flowers across the plains.
Skop would often look out longingly as they did so. He had plans to move north-east again in search of Slavka and the rebels, but for the moment he had decided to rest with his sister
’s pack. He could see that a normal family routine was doing Kar a great deal of good. Skop had found it hard to look after the youngster on his own and he still didn’t know what he would do about him when he set out. Palla was very tender with Kar, for in some way she felt that he was a replacement for her unnamed pups, but with his worries for his pack Huttser was less tolerant of the young wolf. Kar was not his own blood line and the Dragga would often growl or snap at him despite himself.
What Larka had heard of Kar’s parents made her feel very sorry for him and she was particularly attentive to Kar, especially since he seemed so frightened by the curse and the legend. Though his features had the strength of the Dragga, Kar was often timid and submissive, and what had happened to his parents had clearly affected him deeply. Larka and he had become firm friends though, and Larka would often sit with him in the long grass and ask him all about his home.
Thankfully, Kar had been too young when the Balkar attacked to remember much about what had happened, but it comforted him somehow to talk of the past and of his brothers Cal and Grell. Larka was always complimenting Kar too, which made Fell furious because Kar was always making mistakes in the lessons at the Meeting Place and was much less capable than Fell. Fell thought him a bit of a coward, and he often teased him, but whenever it happened Larka would step in to defend him.
Kar woke suddenly by the river. Next to Fell, Larka was struggling desperately in the grass. Her paws were fighting with the air and she kept scratching at her own forehead as a dream shook through her body. Though her eyes were still closed her muzzle was snapping and biting at some imaginary opponent. Ever since the terrible night when Morgra had cursed them, Larka had begun to have nightmares.
‘Larka,’ said Fell, opening his eyes too and nudging his sister roughly with his muzzle. ‘Wake up, Larka.’
The she-wolf blinked nervously. She seemed to calm down as she saw the river and began to remember where she was.
‘You were dreaming, Larka,’ whispered Fell more kindly.
‘It was horrid, Fell,’ Larka shuddered, lifting her pretty muzzle. ‘I dreamt that the whole pack had gone and that only you and I were left. But the curse was following us and Wolfbane was coming to attack us. Though the Evil One came in the shape of a human, he had huge wings, too, like a giant bird, and he lived in the Stone Den just like Bran said, surrounded by human cubs that he feasted on every night.’
‘It was only a dream, Larka,’ said Fell cheerfully, wagging his tail and getting up. ‘Come on, Kar. Let’s play a game.’
‘What game, Fell?’
‘A game of Stares,’ said the wolf mischievously. ‘We have to stare at each other for as long as possible and the one who turns away first loses.’
Kar didn’t like the sound of it much, but as Fell peered at him he tried to stare back. In no time at all Kar had looked away and Fell snorted scornfully.
‘Well, really,’ he growled, ‘what good are you?’
‘Fell,’ said Larka suddenly as she thought of her horrible dream, ‘you don’t think this legend will come true, do you? And you don’t think the Sight really brings the power to curse?’
Kar shivered.
‘No, Larka,’ growled Fell. ‘The Sight is just a stupid lie. And the human child has probably been eaten. I wonder what they taste like though,’ he added mischievously.
‘But Mother says there are more things in the world than even a wolf can understand, Fell,’ said Larka. ‘I heard Brassa saying one sun that perhaps to leave the pack boundaries was a way to break a curse.’
‘She-wolves are superstitious, that’s all,’ snorted Fell, ‘and Father hates it when Mother talks like that. He says that we must believe only in the truth and what we can see with our eyes or taste with our teeth. He snarled at her again last sun.’
Larka’s eyes grew strangely sullen. Though they had tried to keep it quiet from the cubs, Huttser and Palla were often arguing. Larka shivered when she thought of their angry voices in the night, for Larka hated nothing in the world more than when her parents quarrelled.
‘We are Putnar,’ said Fell proudly, seeing his sister’s distress, ‘the forest fears us and we shouldn’t be afraid of anything. Not legends nor stupid curses. They’re just as silly as Brassa’s story of the golden deer pelt.’
‘Which golden pelt?’ asked Kar, wagging his tail.
‘The one that Tor and Fenris put in the forest. They told Fren that it was the source of knowledge and freedom but if he ever tried to steal it they would strike him stone dead. I mean, why put such a thing in the world and then not expect a wolf as clever as Fren to be tempted by it? It’s daft.’
‘Maybe they did expect him to be tempted by it,’ said Kar.
‘What do you mean?’ growled Fell.
‘Free will,’ shrugged Kar.
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Skop says that Tor and Fenris put Wolfbane in the world so that the Varg would have a choice between good and evil and so have free will.’
‘Oh, shut up, Kar,’ growled Fell.
But Fell had suddenly noticed that they had come to the edge of the Meeting Place. Some way ahead of them the river bent round towards the castle and Fell could see speckled trout leaping from its waters. He looked round. His parents were nowhere to be seen and the others were lying snoozing beneath the poplar trees.
‘Come on,’ said Fell, ‘let’s go fishing.’ Kar looked at Larka nervously.
‘But, Fell,’ said Larka, ‘you know we’re supposed to stay at the Meeting Place. They said we should be in sight at all times.’
Larka was rather more responsible than her brother and besides, the dream had not put her in the mood for adventures.
‘Don’t wander off,’ snorted Fell dismissively, ‘don’t do this. Don’t do that. Don’t do anything at all. That’s all I ever hear, Larka. This is our perfect chance. Khaz is always going on about testing ourselves.’
‘But, Fell,’ whispered Kar, looking up at the castle, ‘Remember Morgra’s curse. And Kipcha saw the humans hunting again the other sun.’
‘So what?’ shrugged Fell, ‘I’d like to see more of them. They sound a lot more interesting than the silly Lera. But we’re only going a little way off anyway. Besides, Larka,’ added Fell temptingly, ‘haven’t you ever felt the urge to disobey, just for the sake of it? Come on.’
Larka was suddenly strangely tempted to disobey her parents and she certainly didn’t want to let Fell wander off alone. She had felt protective of him ever since the dogs had come, and in truth she was just as inquisitive as her brother. As Fell made for the bend in the river both she and Kar followed along behind him.
Soon the cubs were trotting along, sniffing everywhere and enjoying their sudden taste of freedom. In no time at all Larka’s head was bursting with questions about everything around her. The river glittered brilliantly and the trees on its edge were alive with birdsong. Everywhere fluttering shapes sported in the leaves and dragonflies flashed sparks of colour through the blue. Kar was delighted, and Fell’s head was soon so full of dreams and adventures that he felt he was floating through the air.
They reached the bend in the river at last and Fell stopped to lap at the water, tasting reeds and fresh bracken on its delicious current. The trout had moved on further downstream, but as Fell drank he suddenly blinked with surprise.
Fell had often seen his own face in the water, but now he was strangely startled. The stories he had started telling himself as he walked along, full of his own heroic deeds, had gone and there he was in the river, almost a stranger. No, surely not a stranger, but Fell, a young wolf, something real and solid, far more solid than all the fantasies and dreams that swirled around in his head.
It was an oddly uncomfortable feeling and he suddenly wanted to know what he was. More than that, where he, Fell, really was. Whether he lay in the dreams that seemed to float above his head or there, in that furry face.
For a moment things went out of focus and then came ba
ck again, and as they did so he recalled something Bran had told him of the Sight and the second power it brought, to look into water and see things of far off realities, of past, present, and future. Often in the safety of the den, the three of them had discussed the strange powers of the Sight. Although Kar didn’t like the idea of seeing through the eyes of birds at all and Larka mused what it meant to look into another’s mind, Fell suddenly thought what a very fine thing it would be to know the future. To know his own future.
Fell heard a noise above him as he looked into the water. It was the drone of a bee and it grew louder and louder as the wolf stood there. The sound had an insistent, mesmeric quality and Fell suddenly recalled a honeycomb Brassa had shown him one sun near the river bank. As Fell listened he wondered what it would be like to crawl across those little transparent cells where the bees’ grubs had lain, writhing and squirming and changing as they fed and as the sound grew in the air Fell had the most extraordinary feeling. He fancied that in the ceaseless humming a word was trying to form, and to him it sounded just like Larka’s favourite word,
‘Why?’
‘Fell,’ cried Larka suddenly and Fell shook off the feeling, ‘remember that Brassa told us to be careful of the river. A wolf fears nothing more than death by water.’
‘Rubbish,’ growled Fell irritably.
But the river’s spell was broken. The cubs were about to wander on again when they heard another voice behind them.
‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Fell,’ growled Huttser loudly.
The children swung around immediately to see Huttser and Palla hurrying towards them. They were both plainly angry and Huttser glared at Fell.
‘What in Fenris’s name do you think you are doing? How dare you disobey your mother and me.’
The Sight Page 7
