Under the Wolf's Shadow

by A. Katie Rose

  Arianne emerged from under the tent’s flap, no sign of the previous night’s wild celebration anywhere in evidence. Hair freshly brushed hair mantling her like a second robe, she squinted briefly into the sun before settling her hands on her hips. She hadn’t drunk of the talela the evening before, not finding it to her taste after a tiny sip and a rapid moue of disgust. I hadn’t liked it much either at first. The proclamation by Brother Lavi, my victory over Illan, and the telling of our adventures all combined brought me to drink more of the talela than I intended.

  Between Kel’Ratan, Rygel and I, we entertained the tribal multitudes with the story I promised Li in what seemed another lifetime. The Jha’fhar tribe listened with rapt attention as Rygel’s magic carried the story to the furthest reaches of the crowd. They ate roasted goat and mutton around the many fires, drank talela, muttered amongst themselves at the strange tale that unfolded from our lips.

  After Smoke’s healing session, I gobbled the savory fare Li’s servants offered, sipped my skin of fermented mare’s milk and started my tale with the torture of a piebald stallion and ending with Li inviting us to his village. To augment our story, Alun’s flute accompanied our words. His notes drew slow and haunting during the tense parts, light and soaring through the humorous times, wild and free throughout the fighting chapters. The entire village held its collective breath..

  Though the tribe witnessed my triumph over Illan, their Clan Chief’s brother and accomplished warrior, strong voices demanded the tale be told then and there. I hid behind a half-raised skin, praying I wouldn’t be the one forced to tell it. When Rygel stood up, the firelight gleaming off his wheaten mane, the crowds roared their approval. I may have won the battle and their hearts, but Rygel’s incredible gift for languages earned their respect. They listened in near silence, nibbling, sipping, all their attention on Rygel.

  His magic lit the night sky. I gulped my talela as the scene unfolded amidst the stars. I watched myself fight, strike, lift the rock over my head and fall, then send Illan to his defeat with a quick toss of his body over my shoulders. The crowd’s noise failed utterly as I put my hand to Illan’s throat, then spared his life and claimed immunity under the law of salt. Rygel’s booming voice lent necessary commentary in Mesaan, as fluent as though he were native born.

  “You knew the rock was there,” Kel’Ratan muttered from the side of his mouth.

  I chuckled. “Of course. I planned it that way.”

  “Genius,” Li admitted, glancing at Illan. “Remind me to never challenge you, Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla.”

  “Future reference, Li dear, I’m as mean as a serpent with a toothache.”

  My uneasy glance found Illan, seated to Li’s left in his customary position. Did I spare him only to find a knife in my back? Illan raised his full skin to me, and smiled. I had to admit, it was a very sweet and uncomplicated expression. His mates standing at his back regarded me with a combination of awe and outright panic. I reckoned they’d had enough of the foreign bitch to last a thousand lifetimes.

  As Rygel’s magic died away, I stood up. Kel’Ratan and Li both eyed me curiously, but neither rose with me. Little by little, when I did nothing save stand, the tribe quieted. I didn’t ask for silence by voice nor gesture, but out of my hard-won respect, the Jha’fhar lowered their skins and ceased their laughter. I met their gawks and stares, smiling a little.

  Alun stepped lightly through the seating and standing throngs, Sele’s sword in his fist. Thunder slipped from his path, dipping his muzzle politely, and Tuatha stared up from my knee, blinking. Alun bowed low, offering the blade, hilt first. I took it from him without glancing his way, my left hand beckoning.

  Tor, blushing from his collar to the roots of his curly hair, stumbled his way through the crowd, often pushed by grinning Kel’Hallan and Jha’fhar warriors. Muttered curses under his breath, he slapped at the offending hands and tripped over a woman’s folded leg. At her half-scream, he mumbled apologies and stepped on a dog’s tail. He jumped at the mutt’s snarl, yet avoided causing anyone else injury or humiliation as he arrived damply before me.

  Without the time for a proper manhood ceremony, I made do. In typical Ly’Tana fashion, I set the sword in Tor’s sweaty grip. “You’re a man,” I said simply.

  Under the roar of hundreds of inebriated throats screaming kiiiyyyy-kiiiyyyy, Tor raised the sword high with both hands. Brandishing it like the trophy it was, he yelled the nomad battle challenge. My boys, their wolves as loud in their yips and howls as everyone else, screamed like banshees. As graceful as a cat in a tree, Tor made his way into the congratulations of his new brothers without tripping once.

  “Well done,” Kel’Ratan said as I sat down. Alun offered me a wink and a swift air kiss as he saluted me, fist to chest. Then he vanished into the night.

  “I concur,” Li added. “Though for a woman to bestow manhood–”

  “Li,” I said, flashing him a swift glance.

  He laughed. “All right, my beautiful goddess. Peace, I pray you. I am only jesting.”

  “I forgive you, my dear Li,” I replied. “This time.”

  The crowds of nomads didn’t settle quickly, and the drinking, carousing and festivities reached a fever peak. At my right, Kel’Ratan matched me skin for skin. If he also devoured the excellent cooking, I didn’t see it. On my left, Li ate with gusto, drank Brother Lavi’s home brew and invaded my territorial space. Illan offered me obeisance with a wide smile and a lowered brow. I doubted he drank a drop. Li’s wives presented me fresh bread, goat’s cheese and more talela. I don’t remember partaking of the delicious food, but I do remember accepting the skin.

  Rygel drank his share while Arianne watched him, as though counting his every drink, a small frown on her fair lips. Tuatha, curled in my lap, gobbled spicy lamb’s mush and burped in contentment. Bar sat outside the ring of fires and people, watching, his eagle’s eyes glowing red. Some kind soul graciously fed him a sheep. I dimly recall seeing a red-white fleece lying nearby before the talela engaged my attention.

  Silverruff, Digger, Thunder, Nahar ringed me around, lapping their own fermented mare’s milk from clay bowls, their eyes glassy. Tor found himself the center of all things warrior. Surrounded by my boys and Jha’fhar, he laughed, retold the story of the man he killed and drank talela. As I couldn’t control my own body, I could scarcely forbid him drinking. He was a man now, after all. Kip allowed the tribe to pet and croon over him, especially the women, without objection. He shared Tor’s bowl. My boys and their wolves, scattered through the crowd, were also given the royal treatment by the servants and happy women.

  Corwyn sat behind Arianne and accepted food from the women, but refused his portion of the strong alcohol. Like his tiny charge, Corwyn eyed Rygel’s deepening inebriation with concern. Shardon stood just outside the firelight, his liquid eyes gazing into the ebony, star-filled, distance. If I could merge more than one thought inside my thick skull, I might have suspected he felt lonely and missed his black brother.

  I don’t remember much after that. I do recall accepting the offer of more talela, the Jha’fhar people whooping, laughing and talking in the dim distance. Li spoke in my ear, his voice loud and inconsequential. I don’t remember a thing he said. Silverruff, that huge brave wolf, collapsed in a heap; his head and shoulders buried me in silver-grey fur.

  Dimly, like a memory of a memory, I knew someone carried me to my tent, Arianne fussing over Tuatha and me in equal measure. I vaguely recall hurling the vile contents of my stomach into the sand as someone laughed. From that moment until I tripped over a hungry wolf, I remember nothing.

  Where are they, by the way? Peering about, I saw no evidence of any wolves save Tuatha, still sitting at my feet and gazing raptly upward. Hanging from Bar’s talon, I vaguely wondered if they survived the night’s festivities.

  Oh, there they are. From behind Li’s tents Silverruff, Digger and Thunder emerged. Tail low, tongues lower, they staggered into my sight. Silverruff couldn’t put
one paw to the ground without falling. Digger whined almost continually, the sound a shrill, high-pitched ringing in my ears. Thunder collapsed on the ground and lay still, his eyes blood red. The others, Little Bull and Nahar, sat with their ears slung down, muzzles pointed at the ground in abject misery. Ah, so I wasn’t alone. That brightened my morning considerably.

  I’m certain Arianne was born for mothering and nurturing. She, of course, worried I may indeed be dying while dangling under the bright daylight. Her hands groped me for wounds, exclaimed the Jha’fhar had poisoned me and disentangled me from Bar’s talon.

  “Sit here, Tuatha, you too, Digger, silly boy. Bar, you can let her go now, I’ve got her. Sit down here, you missed it, Ly’Tana, stop trying to be difficult.”

  “I’m not being difficult,” I groused. “I can’t see worth a damn.”

  Her hand under my arm helped me sit gingerly on a boulder nearby. Its sharp points dug into my butt as her soothing, mother-to-be voice resounded throughout the camp.

  “Silverruff, get out of my bloody way, you’re no good there. I know you know what a hangover is so go dunk yourself in the river. Take them all with you, go on now. Damn fools don’t know what’s good for them. Nahar, you go, too. Take Thunder, Digger, Little Bull, and anyone else you find with you. Leave Rygel, though, I need him. Get on before I get angry.”

  Arianne angry? That might be a sight worth seeing, I thought, some humor rising, should I sober up in time.

  Like all things, this humor, too, passed rather quickly. I hung my head, my hair in my face, and waited until more of the nausea found little reason to stick around and depart my guts. I heard curses, moans, muttered entreaties as Arianne fussed, cajoled and ordered warriors and wolves to their duties, scolded a still-moaning Kel’Ratan into behaving like an adult and washed the grit from my face with a cloth and a bucket of water.

  “Rygel you idiot, wake up and help me.”

  This I have to see.

  Swiping my filthy hair over my shoulder, I managed a grin as Rygel stumbled out from behind the tent and dove headfirst into the dirt. He rolled onto his back, flat-out, his knees rising to meet his arms as he covered his filthy head before turning onto his right side. He didn’t exactly groan, however. His voice echoed like the eerie, ululating howling of a lonely ghost.

  “Gods above and below,” Arianne swore.

  Kel’Ratan fell twice before he staggered to his feet, blinded by his red hair, cursing fluidly. Achieving only half his full height, his feet refusing to move where and when he ordered them, he clutched his belly with both hands. In the wake of the others, he listed first left, then right only to repeat the action before falling flat on his face a few rods away.

  Arianne nudged Rygel in the ribs with her boot. “I need remedies and I need them, like, yesterday.”

  “Not so loud,” Rygel begged, finishing his curl into a fetal position. “Gods, I think I’m gonna hurl.”

  She stepped daintily away, her lips pursed with disgust, her glorious, grey-blue eyes dark and snapping with irritation. “Get any on me and you’ll die.”

  Whether the threat worked or the impulse passed, Rygel didn’t vomit. His bizarre groaning continued, however. I repressed the sudden urge to cut his throat and free myself from its obnoxious clutches.

  “You’re about as useless as–”

  “Permit me, Arianne of Connacht.”

  Li’s voice, cheerful, robust and filled with enough humor to create in me the sudden, murderous compulsion to slaughter him on the spot. The immediate fact that I could scarcely sit up straight much less wield a blade deterred me. I contented myself with a dark scowl. A large and very full skin sagged from his right hand.

  “I have here,” Li went on, his lively eyes on me, “an antidote to the evils talela can bring.”

  “You’re a far too genial and sympathetic host, Clan Chief,” Arianne remarked, her hands on her tiny hips. “I think they should suffer through it.”

  Rygel’s moans increased in volume. I drowned in my hair.

  “Then you will be forced to wait a day,” Li replied. “The spirit of the talela rejoices for many, many hours. Maybe even two days’ worth.”

  “Oh, very well, then,” Arianne said, cross. “We don’t have that kind of time.”

  “You do not,” Li said. “You must be on your way soon. Your beasts are already packed.”

  “Will it take long?”

  “Not at all, tiny princess. My people are already tending to your people.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Tilt her head back. She won’t like this.”

  What? My head rose in panic, my hair and grit still blinding me. However, I did see too shadows, one large one very small, loom over me.

  “Oh, this is fun,” Bar remarked.

  Before I started to my feet, Arianne’s firm grip under my chin forced my head back while Li brushed my hair from my face. Her other hand on my brow pulled my head back into her belly, leaving my mouth open to the invasion.

  “Do something,” I thought wildly at Bar, as Li set the mouth of the skin within mine.

  “Oh, very well. Stop that.” His mellow chirp coincided with his mental voice in my head. “I tried. They aren’t listening.”

  “Protect me!”

  “Please don’t do that? Pretty please?”

  Too weak and nauseous to struggle much, the noxious fluid burned its way to my roiling belly setting my tongue, throat and gut afire. I shuddered, gagging, strangling, swallowing yet more of the savage liquid to save myself from drowning. Li squeezed yet more from the skin in another burst of flame. I couldn’t swallow enough in time. The remedy burned my nose. I coughed, snorted, spewed some of the vile stuff toward Li.

  “I think that will do,” he said with satisfaction, removing the skin.

  Bending over, I spit out as much as I could onto the ground as Li and Arianne watched with interest.

  “I’m going to kill you for this,” I warned, coughing. “Both of you.”

  “I think not, Ly’Tana,” Li replied, his tone genial. “Do you not feel better already?”

  I straightened, working my lips and tongue experimentally. The burning sensation in my mouth and throat had already ceased, taking with it the nasty taste of camel dung. My belly rumbled in a very small protest before settling into something resembling hunger. Prodding my cheekbone, I discovered the savage ache in my head disappeared.

  Standing, I discovered my equilibrium had returned. “Unbelievable,” I muttered. I walked about with ease, not a stagger or a stumble anywhere to be found.

  “Had you been offered this remedy in a cup, you would refuse,” Li said, his dark eyes laughing. “This is the only way.”

  I couldn’t argue with that logic. The stuff was beyond vile. I gestured, my hand waving in the air.

  “You have two more victims, Li,” I said, grinning. “I know how much you enjoy your work.”

  Rygel and Kel’Ratan proved to be putty in Arianne’s capable hands. One by one, they each endured Li’s forced antidote to the day-after effects of talela. I sat on my rock, Tuatha in my arms, chuckling as first Kel’Ratan then Rygel choked, coughed and snorted as much of the dreadful, fiery liquid as I had. When at last Li stood up, his latest victims cursing and calling him every filthy name under the sun, the skin had noticeably deflated.

  “Shut up,” I snapped, dropping Tuatha gently on his feet and rising. “Put your big boy pants on and bite it.”

  Tuatha, gazing up with pleading eyes, whined. I glanced down. “I know, baby. I’m hungry, too.”

  Kel’Ratan, now standing, poked and prodded his gut as much as I had, in wonder. “Damn and blast,” he said. “I think I could eat a camel.”

  “I’d advise against it,” Rygel said, wiping his lips on his sleeve before offering Arianne a kiss to her cheek. “Camels don’t taste very good.”

  “Ah, but camel milk,” Li said, pursing his lips and smacking his fingers. “Almost as good as talela.”

  I ch
uckled. “I wonder how your people forced your remedy down the throats of wolves, good Li.”

  “Trust me,” he replied, his arm about my shoulders. “Our women can be most persuasive. Come, we must share salt once again.”

  Freshly cleaned, my hair brushed, my sword on my hip, I felt exhilarated in the new day. Today, I would begin my journey north. Toward Raine. Escorted by Bar, Kel’Ratan, Arianne, and Rygel carrying Tuatha, I walked into a camp busy feeding my boys and their wolves.

  As we walked, Li reiterated what he’d been trying to tell me the night before. “As I said before, Ly’Tana, I gave orders.”

  “What orders?”

  He sighed. “The talela made you deaf, dear girl. After hearing your tale, I set the women and servants to making you garments.”

  “Garments?”

  He nodded, his brown eyes impatient. “You cannot travel the high mountains without good, warm garments. The skins you tanned and packed I commanded made into warm fur clothing. The women and servants worked all night.”

  “Oh, Li,” I said, taken aback by his generosity. “You’re too kind.”

  “I know,” he said, his brown eyes tilted at the corners. “I cannot see you go into the north without my offering some aid.”

  Taking his arm, I kissed him with my eyes. He grinned, basking in my affection. “You are so welcome,” he replied.

  I suddenly froze, dragging Li to a halt beside me. My gut clenched at the unwelcome sight before my eyes.

  Illan and his small band rode their horses toward us, leaving a small sand wake behind their hooves. In the distance, the camp continued its busy morning routine: feeding, watering both humans and animals, tending fires, laughing, chasing errant dogs away. Children played in the dirt while older youths wrestled and fought mock battles. No few tossed an opponent over his shoulders as I had Illan. Young girls joined in, dressed in an eerie imitation of me in my leather vest and skirt, wooden swords held high.