Aram stared across the quiet river at the troubled ground for several minutes, trying to imagine the sights and sounds of the great struggle that had occurred there. Then he looked toward the east and nudged Thaniel with his boot. “Let’s go around it, my friend, and see if we can recover the trail of those wolves.”
The partnership between Aram and the great black horse had two results. Wolves became increasingly scarce across the high grasslands, and the wolves that they did encounter traveled in ever-larger groups. This last fact troubled Aram and he mentioned it to Thaniel.
“Is it normal for wolves in this country to group up like this? I’ve never noticed it before anywhere else.”
Thaniel laughed, a deep rumbling sound. “It is because of us, my friend. Rumor of an angel of death on a horse has gone throughout all the wolf people. I’ve caught word of it here and there when we’ve passed near to them.”
Aram was stunned. “Do you mean that you can understand their speech?”
“Yes.” At the moment Thaniel was walking southeast along a broad, grassy ridge. “Once, before Manon turned them, the wolves were one of the noble peoples, granted the gift of speech by Kelven. We often spoke, resolving issues of boundaries and of the keeping of the peace. Our peoples no longer talk openly but we can still hear them when they are in duress. Lately, because of you, they are in deep duress. So, they are gathering in ever-larger numbers for the purposes of defense. I watched you in the ravine, Aram. I don’t think they could touch you with an army of a hundred.”
“Tell me, Thaniel, who are the noble peoples?”
“There are six families of noble people that walk the earth. Men, of course, and horses. Then wolves, and the predators of the air—eagles, falcons, and hawks—and then lions and the family of great cats, and bears—though bears and the family of great cats use the gift rarely, I am told. There are some that dwell in the sea as well, but I have no knowledge of them.”
“And these all possess the gift of speech?”
“Yes.”
“Including those that live in my valley?”
“Of course.”
“That brings up a point.” Aram said.
Thaniel turned his head to listen but continued progressing down the ridge toward the southeast.
Aram looked out over the vast wide country. “Wolves are becoming scarce on the high plains and in two or three weeks I will need to be in my valley, far to the west beyond the pine mountains. Summer will soon end and I will need to harvest my crops. It’s been some time since we’ve seen substantial numbers of wolves. How close are we, do you think, to clearing the entire country?”
“My father made it clear to me that you are in control of the schedule, Aram.” Thaniel answered. “We have already cleared the foaling grounds and eradicated them in many other places. If you need to go west now, I will take you.”
“How great a journey is it to the west of this land?”
“We are now three hundred miles east of the place where you saved my father’s life. I can return you there in three or four days.”
Aram considered that for a moment. “I have observed, Thaniel, that you are not easily tired.”
“That is so.”
“How far is it to the eastern borders of your land?”
“Less than a hundred miles,” Thaniel answered.
Aram gazed eastward in astonishment at distant, snow-topped peaks, certainly farther away from their current location than a mere hundred miles. “Are you telling me that those mountains are within a hundred miles of our present position? They appear much farther away.”
Again Thaniel laughed. “No, my friend, you are right, those mountains are at least two hundred miles distant, maybe farther. Between our lands and those mountains there is a large body of water, an inland sea, that borders our lands from the north where it is fed by many streams, to the south where a mighty river drains it out through the mountains toward the distant ocean.”
“I would like to see this water.” Aram said.
“It is but two days away.”
“Then let’s do this. Let us find this sea on the eastern border of your lands and then methodically and at good pace, search out all the land until we get back to the west. We will slay any wolves we find. Can we do that in three or four weeks?”
“We can. And that will bring you to your home in time?” Thaniel asked.
“Yes.”
Thaniel turned off the ridge toward the east and broke into a ground-consuming canter. As they sped eastward, Aram saw something above the earth, far beyond the mountains to the northeast, something massive and elusive that seemed to fool his eye. When he looked away from it, it was there, at the side of his vision, but when he turned his head to gaze directly at it, it faded into the hazy blue depths of the sky.
“Is there something beyond the mountains to the northeast?” he asked.
“Yes.” Answered Thaniel, but he would say no more.
After two days of traveling, they crossed a small rise and came to the sandy, reedy, and wind-blown shores of a large sea or lake, beyond which, at a great distance, there rose the heights of mountains. The water stretched away to the horizon, a vast blue-gray cauldron. Aram had never seen a body of water this substantial and he dismounted and walked for a time along the beach. The wind was up and the waves of a moderate surf rolled up onto the sand.
The air was pungent and rich with moisture but there was no smell of salt and when Aram tipped his fingers in the water and tasted, it was fresh. The sun glinted off the waves and for as far out as he could see, whitecaps dotted the steely surface. It was a pleasant aspect and called to something ancient and primordial deep in Aram’s soul. The thought crossed his mind that a man could build a home back in among the trees and look out at this view for the rest of his life and not tire of it.
The shore was cut by small coves and sandy bays and every so often streams of varying size ran out of the highlands and added their volume to the lake. Long-legged water birds rose up before him in flocks, complaining loudly at the intrusion into their affairs. After a time, regretfully, Aram turned away and he and Thaniel went back to work.
They hunted northward along the edge of the sea for more than a day then angled back to the northwest toward the distant foothills, crossing many streams and rivers flowing from west to east toward the sea. Reaching the edge of the northern mountains, they swung back to the south, always searching for wolves.
Together, Aram and Thaniel scoured out the eastern lands, slaying scattered bands of wolves, and then they worked westward through the lands they’d already hunted. Except for the occasional lone wolf and small bands of two or three, the land was empty, though they often crossed the tracks of large groups of the animals headed north.
Finally, they turned resolutely in that direction. The land to the north of the grasslands was composed of long, furrowed, wooded hills that wound gradually upward into the domain of high, granite-peaked mountains. These mountains were wild and rugged, with sharply delineated peaks that were ever capped with snow though they looked toward the south.
In the middle of the second week, Aram and Thaniel broke over the height of a wooded ridge running east and west and down into a broad valley watered by a wide gentle river fed by streams that tumbled out of the hills. There were few trees in the grassy expanse of the valley, leaving it mostly open, and there were marshes scattered between the loops of the river.
Beyond the river, at the edge of the timber, where the foothills merged with the open slopes of the valley, was a long dark line of wolves, a hundred at least or more, sitting on their haunches looking south, as if they’d been waiting for the man and the horse.
Aram and Thaniel stopped at the top of the ridge and stood still and stared northward across the valley at the wolves. Nothing stirred anywhere. One lone eagle hovered motionless in the blue high above. The man and horse stared across at the wolves that in turn gazed back at them without movement or sound. Finally, Aram slid his bow ov
er his head and spoke quietly.
“I think this may be the army you spoke of, Thaniel,” he said. “Evidently they mean to end it here.”
“Perhaps,” the horse answered, “but I sense only anxiety.”
“Can you hear what they are saying or thinking, if anything?”
Thaniel was quiet a long moment and there was wonder in his voice when he answered. “Yes. They want to speak with you.”
Aram looked at him sharply. “With me?”
“They want to negotiate.”
“Negotiate? To what end?”
“You’ll have to ask them.” Thaniel answered.
Aram slowly dismounted and walked out onto the grassy slope until he was more or less on level with the dark line of wolves across the way. He studied them for a moment and then spoke audibly.
“I am here.” He said.
A lone black wolf of immense proportions separated himself from the line and advanced a short way, limping slightly on one paw as he came. He stopped and sat on the gentle slope about halfway between the trees and the river and a harsh, raspy voice broke in upon Aram’s mind.
“I am Durlrang, chief of the wolves of the north. Why do you slay us without mercy, O my enemy? Is it your intention to destroy us all?”
“I kill your kind because you also kill, without mercy, those whom you should not touch.” Aram answered slowly, still speaking aloud. “Before I came you seemed intent upon destroying all other life. By your barbaric actions you have unbalanced the natural world. You even devour your own kind. I have witnessed you tearing the flesh of your own kin while they yet live. This is unnatural and a great evil. Why should you not die? You disregard, in all your actions, the will of Kelven.”
“Kelven is dead.” Durlrang answered shortly.
“Is that why you abandoned the natural laws? Was it only his presence upon the earth that guided you and not the structure that he gave to nature?”
“The one that killed Kelven, he gave us new laws.”
Aram let the words fall unchallenged. “What do you want from me?”
Durlrang shifted on his haunches. “Your conditions for peace.”
Aram was surprised and astounded by Durlrang’s declaration. Was this the way the war would end? After all the years of killing, after all the desperate battles and all the death, could it really end in a simple verbal agreement that it should? He let several minutes slip by in silence while he considered, then, in a gesture, he laid down his bow upon the long grass.
“Alright.” He said. “My conditions are these. You must return to keeping the laws of Kelven. You must slay and eat only those creatures that were given to you for food at the beginning. You must never again touch the life of horse or man. And you must look to yourselves and raise your families with care and caution so that you do not overrun your own hunting grounds. You must never consume or kill your own kind. You must never again pass the borders of the high plains or the King’s valley.”
Durlrang stirred uneasily. “Some of these demands we can meet. But others go against the will of our master.”
Aram considered that for a moment. Then drawing his sword with sudden decision, he held it straight out to his side.
“This I also demand,” he said. “That you and all your kind acknowledge me as your master.”
A furious commotion erupted among the ranks of wolves at this stunning statement. Many gave voice to angry yelps and howls and fights broke out here and there among them. Durlrang snarled harshly to regain calm. When his people had quieted, he gazed at Aram for a long moment.
“We cannot,” he answered, and there was regret in his voice. “We already have a master.”
“Manon.” Thaniel interjected.
Aram advanced a step toward the line of wolves across the valley.
“If you truly have a master,” he thundered. “Let him now come and declare himself before us.”
The wolves jumped and whined at this statement and some of them ran in fear for the shelter of the trees. The rest peered skyward in terror as if expecting bolts of angry power to blast out of the firmament and strike the man down. But minutes passed and the peace of the afternoon remained unbroken.
Finally, Durlrang, who’d crouched in horror at Aram’s statement, lifted his head cautiously, looked carefully around, and spoke.
“He is not here.”
Aram turned the bright blade of his sword over and back several times so that the waning sun flashed off its steel.
“I am here.” He said.
Durlrang sat stiffly staring at the tall man beyond the river for a long time. Then he turned his head and there was communion among the wolves that was closed to Aram’s mind. Several became quite agitated and broke from the line to run back and forth along it, snapping and snarling.
Finally, Durlrang stood up, faced Aram and dropped his head, and looking back between his forelimbs, pushed his forehead to the earth. “We will obey all that you have said and though we are but one of the many companies of wolves on the earth, for our part, we acknowledge you as our master.”
Aram lowered his sword and let the silence stretch out for a minute or two, and then he raised his voice to all the assembled wolves. “Obey me and answer to the laws of Kelven, and keep these things and I will not only leave you in peace, but I will defend you as well. Obey me not, and break any of these sayings of mine and I will return and bring your end upon you. It may be that if you live as the Maker of old intended the evil that has touched you may be lifted.”
There was a moment then of utter quiet, when the forest and meadow seemed to draw a collective breath and the wind and stream fell silent. In that instant, Aram could feel their combined will bend to his. The wolves bowed their heads over in unison, touching their foreheads to the ground. Those that had fled into the trees slipped back into the ranks and they all answered him as one.
“We will obey.”
Aram slid his sword back into its sheath and picked up his bow.
“Durlrang.”
“Yes, master.” The great black wolf lifted his head.
“Come down to the river, I wish to talk with you.”
Obediently, the big wolf trotted down to the shore, limping on his right forepaw as he came. Aram splashed through the shallow riffles at the bottom of a pool and met the wolf on a stretch of sand.
“Let me see your paw, Durlrang.”
“Master?”
“Your paw. What has happened to you?” Aram knelt down and looked into the animal’s eyes. They were black and deep as a starless night with ripples of ancient trouble in their depths.
After a moment’s silent contemplation of his new master, Durlrang lifted his paw. “A month ago, I was running through a field of loose shale high in the mountains. I cut my foot and a piece of rock lodged inside.”
Aram shifted around to the wolf’s right side and bent the paw upwards. Carefully, he opened the mangled flesh on the damaged central pad and looked deep into the wound. Sure enough, there was sliver of sharp rock, shiny with blood, wedged across damaged flesh deep in the wolf’s pad.
Aram looked up into Durlrang’s eyes and drew his knife. “I’m going to remove the rock. This will hurt. Can you bear it?”
The great black wolf inclined his head slightly. The animal trembled as Aram dug deep into the raw flesh of its pad, but the rock came free after a few moments prodding with the steel. He squeezed gently on the pad to remove the pus, clotted blood, and infection, then crumbled some medicinal herbs and pressed them into the wound. Then he cut a makeshift pad from the flap of his pack and fastened it to the bottom of Durlrang’s foot with leather strips that he wound up around the leg and tied above the knee.
“Be careful and move slowly—try to keep this on your foot. In a week or ten days you can chew through this and remove it. With care, your pad should heal by then.”
In response, Durlrang did something odd and surprising. He made a small sound deep in his chest and licked the back of Aram’s arm with
his tongue. Aram set down the foot and touched the wolf briefly on the side of its shaggy head with the palm of his hand.
“Durlrang, do your people know how to fish?”
“I did once, long ago.” Durlrang answered.
“Recall the skill then, and teach the others. In the winter, when many deer will migrate to lower country, the fish in these streams can sustain your people. Sometimes during the coldest parts of the winter, they will become trapped by ice in the shallows and are easy to catch. I’ve done it myself. In the meantime, I will alter the rule about trespassing on the highlands. You may hunt deer for the distance of one-half day’s journey into the grasslands. But remember, you may never again slay a horse, a man, or one of your own.”
“Upon my life,” Durlrang answered. “It will be as you say.”
Aram met the animal’s gaze for a long moment and stood.
“Then farewell until we meet again.” He said, and he turned away and crossed the river and strode up the slope into the trees where Thaniel waited. When he got there, he was surprised to find Florm and three other horses waiting with him. One was Jared and the others were a large dappled gray and another brown one like Jared but with a black mane and tail. Florm studied Aram with his great black eyes for a long time before he spoke quietly.
“So now you are the master of wolves?” There was a curious excitement trembling on the edges of the ancient horse’s voice.
Aram shrugged. “Yes. It is a practical matter. They know that I will slay them all if they break their word.”
Florm turned away. “I want to give you something,” he said. “Thaniel will bear you. Let us go into the south.”
XII
For three days they traveled toward the southwest across the heart of the high grasslands. To their front a great gray mass began to rise out of the plains. Its dark top was sharp and pointed like a pyramid. As they drew nearer, Aram could see that the mountain did indeed have four distinct sides like a pyramid and that a thick forest of trees surrounded its base. Early on the fourth morning, they circled around the forest that surrounded the mountain, passing by it on the east until, turning back to the west, they came to about the middle of the dense woods on the mountain’s southern side.
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