Under the Wolf's Shadow

by A. Katie Rose

  “Wait a bit longer?” Tashira suggested.

  “I reckon,” I said, returning to lie by the fire. My hole also let in the frosty cold, but there was no way to block the cave mouth back up. I hid behind my fire again while Tashira settled as close to it as he could get.

  “Keep tossing those logs on.”

  “Your turn,” I said, my eyes falling shut.

  Tashira’s acid comment regarding my ancestry followed me down into sleep.

  “What in the name of hell is that?”

  Tashira’s huge bulk pushed past the snow blocking the cave mouth, spilling more into the cave. We left behind the still-warm cave and the dying fire. Of my sizeable pile, I left behind only a quarter. Who knew? Someone in dire need may stumble across it.

  I’d followed behind Tashira’s rump, floundering up to my belly in the deep snow. Swimming past his stopped tail, I finally glanced up to see what had halted him, literally, in his tracks. I gaped, astounded.

  A great creature stood on long, yet spindly-looking legs, tall, maybe a rod plus from the ground to its humped withers. Snow mantled its massive shoulders and neck. Long mule-like ears swiveled in my direction. Its cow-like muzzle continued to chew the bark it had stripped from a nearby tree, dark doe eyes watched me without much concern.

  And no wonder. Huge flaring antlers rose yet another three or more feet from atop its head. A massive rack that could sweep me quite off my feet.

  “A moose,” Tashira answered.

  “A moose,” Darius replied at the same time.

  The moose wriggled its nose as it munched, then lowered its huge head to strip another section of bark from the tree. Chewing absently, it regarded me with no more worry than it might a rabbit.

  “It’s not afraid of me?” I said.

  “Moose aren’t much afraid of anything,” Tashira said. “They can be exceedingly dangerous, especially a cow protecting her young.”

  “You know of these creatures?”

  “If the mountain winters here are bad, they migrate down below,” he answered, his eyes never leaving the moose. “They graze our lands, but if they don’t bother us, we let them be. Then come spring they travel north. Back up here.”

  “Wolves certainly don’t worry them,” Darius commented. “Despite your size, even you could not kill one by yourself. A pack could bring one down. If it got lucky.”

  “So it might be more worried if there were more of me?” I couldn’t get my eyes past that rack of antlers. Gods above and below, look at them.

  “Perhaps. They’re faster than they look and can be quite aggressive.”

  “That one alone would feed me for three days.”

  “Or kill you.” Tashira turned an inquiring eye on me. “Which would you prefer?”

  “Uh,” I said. “I think I’d rather try something that doesn’t have quite the hardware.”

  “Wise wolf.”

  As though understanding our speech, the moose flipped its short tail about its hindquarters and ambled off, digging for grass buried under a foot of snow. Within moments, it vanished down the hill.

  “Could it comprehend us?” I asked.

  Tashira’s ears swiveled to follow the moose. “I don’t know,” he answered slowly. “I’ve never tried to discover the level of intelligence moose have. They might be as smart as wolves or Tarbane, but keep that information to themselves.”

  “The god of the moose and I never had reason to talk,” Darius said.

  “After I free you,” I commented. “Perhaps you should.”

  Not waiting for Tashira to break a path, I crested through the snow, keeping nose, ears and eyes alert for potential breakfast. I continued north, past the cave, travelling further up the low-incline mountain side. In my wake, Tashira walked, seizing mouthfuls of bark, small twigs, and pine needles as he passed by. I glanced back, doubtful.

  “You eat that stuff?”

  Around a mouthful of bark, he answered, “I told you I can live on a great deal. It’s rather tasty. Want some?”

  “Thanks, but I’m trying to quit.”

  “Sure? It’s not as bad as it looks and great for the bowels.”

  “I’ll wait for something furry to come along.”

  Something furry didn’t cross my path, but something wooly did. A feral ewe, too small and weak to keep up with the flock, floundered, trapped by the blizzard’s deep impact. It lunged in the deep snow, blatting, trying to follow the tracks of its mates. It sensed me and panic set in. Shrill screams replaced the forlorn bleats, and it struggled harder. Its feeble legs only dug itself in deeper.

  One snap to the ewe’s neck ended her panic and struggles. While Tashira wandered off to munch bark and dig grass from under the snow, I feasted on the warm flesh of the dead sheep. I hadn’t realized how weak I’d become since I’d last eaten one of Feria’s treasured pigs. Only when it returned did I notice its absence. The warm, nourishing food did its work well, and filled me with new strength.

  As I downed the last of the ewe, leaving only the fleece behind, the sun emerged into a new blue sky. Its power demolished the last storm clouds, dispersing them in all directions. Not yet noon.

  “Feel better?” Tashira asked.

  “Indeed. You?”

  “I could do with a few dozen apples, but I’m good.”

  Without any handy streams nearby, I ate some snow to satisfy my thirst. It helped, but I still relished a long, cold drink of water.

  “Ready?” I asked, licking my lips.

  “I reckon.”

  Floundering uphill through the snow proved an almost impossible task. Before an hour had passed, I panted hard, my tongue hanging low. The bright sunlight reflecting off the pristine snow shot jagged shards of instant lightning into my eyes. Keeping my muzzle down, watching in front of my paws helped, but I had to see where I was going. I lusted for the shadows under the trees, despite the heavier snow there.

  “My turn,” Tashira said, wading almost shoulder deep past me. Grateful, I fell in behind him, walking in the broken path he created. The temperature, in spite of the altitude, rose. Laden pine branches, dipped low under the weight of ice, suddenly swept high, free. All around us, the high forest abounded with the sounds of tree limbs snapping upward and the soft flump of snow striking snow.

  Birds chirped and darted amid the newly green trees. Hares, mottled brown and white as they changed into their winter fur, fled in panic from us. They vanished under boulders and lumps of snow that covered the fallen logs. A falcon screamed from on high, as though accusing us of causing his lunch to hide. A black bear, prowling a thicket, grumbled sourly as we thrust past, but decided not to challenge us. Since I outweighed him by a goodly amount, no doubt he thought it prudent to enter hibernation without painful wounds.

  Within an hour or so, my paws hit slush rather than snow, the fur over my lower legs wet through. A tumbling stream, enriched with new snowmelt, provided us with the water we both needed.

  “I want to graze,” Tashira said, lifting his dripping lips from the icy water. His dense mane sluiced wet, drenched in the stream when he lowered his head to drink.

  Too busy lapping the water to respond, I merely wagged my tail. I needed the break, too.

  Not quite hungry, I lay upon a sun-warmed boulder and lazily looked about. Tashira didn’t work too hard to clear snow from his lunch, as most of it now crested the wet slush. In the distance above us, a small herd of elk crossed the mountaintop.

  “You should hunt,” Darius advised. “You are seriously weakened.”

  I didn’t answer him. Instead, I watched Tashira gulp down wet green, his huge hooves making a sucking sound when they lifted from the sodden, snow covered ground and a sharp splash when he took a step.

  “Why did you follow me?”

  His ears twitched. “I told you,” he said around a mouthful of grass.

  “So,” I said slowly, lying my muzzle on my paws. “After you kick my ass, are you going home?”

  He didn’t answer.
r />   “You think to accompany me all that way?”

  “Got no other plans.”

  “You know I’m going to die.”

  He lifted his head then, grass sticking out from either side of his lips. His tiny ears pinned, vanishing into his wealth of mane, as his dark eyes sparked with irritation. “No. You think you’re going to die. No one else believes it.”

  “Look up there, Tashira,” I growled, tossing my head up toward the highest peaks, leagues distant. “Up there, it’s nothing but a steep climb through snow that makes yesterday’s blizzard look like ash drifting on a light wind. There’s no food, no shelter, no escape from temperatures that will freeze your blood. You cannot survive up there.”

  “And you can, I suppose?” he sneered.

  “I don’t have to.”

  I stared up at the blue-grey mountains, white topping their crests. “All I have to do is live long enough to kill the Guardian.”

  “How will you get past the dragons?”

  “Alone.”

  “You can’t stop me from coming,” he snorted angrily. “Will you kill me if I try?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’ll leave when I want.”

  “Or are forced,” I muttered, lowering my head again.

  “What did you say?”

  When I didn’t answer, Tashira eyed me suspiciously and lowered his head to munch again. “Go kill something and leave me alone.”

  Obedient, I slid off the warm boulder and trotted into the trees, listening to him grumble under his breath. A mile or so away, I halted, casting about me, and tested the wind. I stumbled across freshly churned mud and snow, the ground torn by many hooves. As Darius had predicted there were many hungry beasts on the move searching for food and water.

  Sniffing, I followed the fresh tracks of a band of wild cows. Not a large group, perhaps a dozen or so. Ripe dung, its odor strong in my nostrils, informed me they had passed here within the last half hour. If I hurried, I might catch them before they sought shelter for the coming night. The wind remained in my favor. I broke into a lope.

  If Darius were free and powerful, I might have said he smiled upon me. Perhaps some other unknown force did, for I found the herd within moments. I also found a young heifer, old enough to know better yet young enough to be quite tender, grazing the wet grass with an eagerness that rivaled Tashira. Her square back turned toward the boulder I silently leaped upon; her herd had spread out and away, munching the delightfully cold greenery. Hooves squished in and out of the slush, tails flipping lazily over broad bovine hips. No flies survived the blizzard, I was certain. Tails swished out of habit.

  Of course, the herd bolted the instant I leaped, those tails high over their backs. Only the unwary heifer fell to her knees with my immense weight on her spine, bawling in terror. My teeth crunched through her neck, killing her before she could give voice again.

  For the second time that day, I feasted on raw, warm meat. I gulped down liver, heart and succulent tender beef. When Tashira walked from behind the boulder I had leaped from an hour later, he found me still gorging.

  “That should put some weight on you,” he observed, his previous anger with me gone.

  “You need it,” Darius commented.

  “I didn’t even know I was hungry,” I admitted, crunching rib bones in my jaws.

  “As long as you’re still occupied,” Tashira said. “I know when I’m hungry.”

  As he grazed on the previous herd’s forage, I ate until I could eat no more. Thanks to the snowmelt, I found an abundance of water to drink from. By then, the sun had begun its descent behind the high peaks. I washed the remnants of the heifer’s blood from my face and ruff as Tashira drank his own fill.

  “Can you travel by night?” he asked, his eyes laughing.

  “Can you eat my dirt?”

  Bucking, heels and tail high, Tashira galloped after me, his hooves thudding into the stony ground beneath the slush. My paws flew over the muddy, sopping ground, my spirits as high as Tashira’s flowing mane. Like two black shadows, our hides like jet silk, we raced across the mountain under the light of the moon.

  Two days after the blizzard, I caught an old sow, too old to keep up as her hoary old husband, young sons and daughters escaped me to root for acorns another day. A lively squirrel scolded me, its tail twitching, from the safety of a high tree branch. The sow, tough as leather and almost as tasteless, truly cut my work out for me after she was dead. But, I cheerfully recognized, beggars certainly couldn’t be choosers.

  Hunting for me had been almost as good as Tashira’s grazing. The weather lay a mild hand upon us both, offering warm daytime sunshine and reasonably mild autumn nights. We both found food and water in plenty. We fell into a routine, travelling until Tashira needed to graze while I either slept or hunted. Together, we moved on, loping north side by side. My hide no longer hung on my body, per Darius’s approval. Tashira’s coat grew in thicker, long outers hairs that protected his warm, inner layer. I watched him carefully for signs the high elevations and scarce vegetation took its toll upon him. Yet, even his black, winter hide gleamed under the sunlight and his ribs remained hidden from view.

  I yanked at the stringy sow, gnawing on meat that might have hung for weeks in a butcher’s shop in Soudan, wondering if she was worth the effort. Tashira raised his head, munching the thick-stemmed long grass that had only begun to turn yellow. From the tail of my eye I saw him prick his ears.

  “Uh,” he said slowly. “Something isn’t right.”

  I lifted my head from the sow. “What’s up? A storm?”

  “No.”

  I glanced away from him, my nose high, sniffing. A chunk of the sow sat, unchewed, in my teeth as I sought for the source of Tashira’s uneasiness. If not a storm, then what? A bear? A moose? Very few creatures in these mountains owned the power to alarm a Tarbane. Humans?

  Tashira screamed, his voice raw and piercing.

  I spun around with bared fangs.

  A net of fire surrounded him, casting him in a shadow of flickering red and black. He reared, screaming, inarticulate, his massive hooves flailing. His mane, caught with sparks of red, swirled against the blameless winter mountains. White teeth snapped together as he shook his head, his front quarters climbing high as he fought to free himself from the flames that ringed him around.

  “Cease, Prince!”

  I snapped my eyes to my right. A hooded figure, draped from head to toe in heavy black, held its raised hands from its mantle. Fire streamed from those long fingers, feeding the hungry fiery net that held my friend captive. Though I saw little of its features within the shadows, one item stood distinct on its cheek.

  A scorpion.

  I growled low in my throat. A wizard from the dark brotherhood. The aika’ru’braud.

  “One move and I kill him,” the wizard warned. “Don’t be stupid, boy.”

  “I never have been, nor ever will be, stupid,” I replied, my head low as I stalked him. “Let him go. Now. And maybe I’ll forget your nasty odor in my nose and not track you down.”

  Despite his wool covering, his skin behind the tattoo paled. “I mean it.”

  “As do I.”

  “Prince Wolf.”

  I froze, my paw hung suspended in the thin, chilly air like a trained carnival mutt. Ja’Teel.

  “I don’t believe it,” I said as I slowly turned toward the voice at my back. “I thought you’d learned your lesson.”

  Ja’Teel stood on a tall hillock to my rear, cloaked from head to toe in solid black. His harelip sneered while his hazel eyes danced with his singular air of superiority. The light snowfall dusted his mantled shoulders in thin white as I growled low in my throat.

  “What lesson was that?” he asked, his tone light and playful.

  “The one where I gut you from crotch to neck for daring to mess with me or mine.”

  Ja’Teel shook his head, grinning. “Go ahead, dear boy,” he said, his tone genial. “You may kill me, b
ut my brother will slay yours.”

  “You call that thing your brother? In what gutter did your sire find your mother? Alongside his?”

  Ja’Teel’s smirk froze. “Careful, Prince. Should I find offense enough, you both will burn. But only you will survive. He won’t and his screams will drown your soul.”

  “I’ll bitch-slap you into next week,” I warned. “Be a man for once and face me with some guts.”

  Ja’Teel tittered, his long fingers shielding his lips. “Nice try. But that’s a negative. Kneel to me now, and I’ll show both of you mercy.”

  “Don’t, Raine!” Tashira yelled. “Don’t do it.”

  “Listen to him, Prince,” Ja’Teel said, his hand falling from his mouth. His visage hardened. “Come with me now, and he lives. I swear it. Bow to my greater strength and I’ll treat you well.”

  “Just what do you plan to do with me?”

  Ja’Teel gestured gracefully with his right hand. From behind him rose a heavy iron collar. It dangled in mid-air at his shoulder, four lengths of hefty chain swinging lightly to and fro over the snow-covered tundra. At the end of each length, thick cuffs lay open and ready to receive each of my legs. Steel links caressed the ground, leaving small tracks as though restless animals walked there.

  Its musical jingle failed to entice me, however. I crouched low, my ears flattened against my skull. “You think I’ll submit myself to that?”

  “You’ve no choice,” Ja’Teel said. “Surrender, or the Tarbane dies a very painful death. My comrade will burn him alive.”

  “Raine!”

  “Tashira, shut up,” I snapped, my eyes never leaving Ja’Teel. “Why should I believe you?”

  Ja’Teel opened his cloak and stuck his thumbs in his sword belt. “I have no quarrel with him. He’s merely a tool to capture you. Once I have you, my brother will set him free. And, no,” he added quickly, his harelip curled, “yon Tarbane won’t kill him, either. He’ll translocate himself away before your Tashira can strike him down.”

  “Just how do you expect to get me to Brutal?”

  “I’ll translocate us both to Soudan.” Ja’Teel smirked. “I should have done it before, but I believed my drug would work. Pity those boys and the Tongu failed me. They died hard, you know.”