Prince Wolf

by A. Katie Rose

  Through her eyes, I saw Arianne growing impatient with her two admirers. Rygel and Darkhan stalked about each other, itching for a fight. I watched as Digger and Thunder vied each other for Ly’Tana’s attentions, her smiles, and her laughter. At night, I watched her snuggle close to my adopted son, Tuatha. In his turn, he gazed up at her with wide, blue, adoring eyes.

  From atop her horse, Ly’Tana, carelessly tossing her hair from her eyes, gazed north. She smiled. Intellectually I knew she couldn’t see me. Deep within my heart I knew she did. Somehow, through the leagues and rough territory between us, we saw each other in our sleep.

  My broken heart ached.

  For I’d never again see her, or the others, on this side of death.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Shut up,” I growled. “Just bugger off.”

  Darius held silent for a long while after that.

  Ignoring my recalcitrant belly, I loped on, up the round highland hills, dodging rocks, thorny thickets, fallen trees. Birds, scratching about and pecking at the stony, pine needle-covered soil, flew up before me in a shrieking cloud. High above, a hawk screeched, wheeling and banking as it, too, hunted its prey. A startled mouse, frozen in the act of nibbling a seed in its tiny paws, didn’t react quickly enough. I snapped it up on the run, swallowing it down. It merely whetted my savage appetite, and set up a new roaring in my gut.

  Late in the afternoon, I slowed my pace, thirst overriding my hunger, at least for the moment. While I haven’t eaten, the foothills had water aplenty and I seldom went without. A tiny streamlet trickling from under a huge rock gurgled and burped its way down the shallow hill. I drank deep of the chilly ambrosia, its mineral-laden moisture added a sweet taste I found I liked very much. Water dribbled from my jaws as I lifted my head, catching an odd scent. The sun began its descent into the western skies, setting them ablaze with fire of reds and oranges, its streaming fingers reaching toward me. I huddled down behind the huge rock, thickly enclosed with those nasty thorny thickets that grew so well here. I listened, my head cocked. Wild cattle. A small herd of them grazed a short distance away.

  Moving slowly, shadows lengthening behind me, I crawled closer, my body hugging the ground. The thorns raked through my fur, but didn’t catch hold of my skin. Under their entwining shelter, I paused and dropped to their roots. I lay still, and watched.

  Ahead of me, the hills had leveled out somewhat, creating low undulating hillocks, covered in rocks, thorny bushes, stunted pine trees and the ever present thin, sparse grass. In the early twilight, a family of the feral bovines that thrived on the tough grass and thorny bushes, roved and grazed, heads down.

  “Listen to your instincts.”

  “Shut up,” I whispered, even though I spoke within my head and not aloud as I usually did. “I need to concentrate.”

  Darius obeyed.

  I crept forward another step. Searching, searching with eyes, ears and nose for the right –

  There.

  A shaggy young bull, his attention riveted on finding the tastiest grass, wandered away from the rest of the herd. Despite the chilly air and late season, a few insects survived to plague him. His tail lifted and swept over his hips, his great hooves squashing the thin heather, his teeth biting off clumps of the sweet grass. His head was toward me, his shaggy back to his sheltering herd. He took several more grazing steps toward me, munching, greedy, and obviously hungry. Like the rest of the creatures up here, the cattle also sought to gain extra body fat to nurture them through the long, cold winter. All of them grazed quickly, snatching as much food as their mouths could hold, voracious, only to devour yet more.

  I’ll show them hunger, I thought, flattening my body even further under the thorns.

  “Wait,” Darius whispered. “Surrender yourself. Seek the wolf within you.”

  At long last I understood what he meant. Outside his voice and my thoughts rose an insistent gut feeling stronger than either. My wolf instincts. I surrendered to them. Guided by them, I obeyed them as easily as I once obeyed Corwyn. I surrendered to the wolf.

  Thought ceased. I waited, silent, still, a shadow amongst shadows. My eyes half-closed on their own, to prevent a chance gleam in the half-light that might warn my prey. The slight, cold breeze wafted the bull’s scent toward me, not my scent toward him. I waited, the wolf in me patient, prepared to wait minutes or hours for my target to wander foolishly outside the protection of the group. I saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing save the bull grazing ever closer to his doom.

  Not yet. Not…yet.

  Impervious to my presence, the bull bit off grass, swallowed it down after a mere chew or two, grabbed more, munched quickly. He took slow, methodical steps toward the thorny thicket I hid under.

  The human part of me might well reason he was close enough. My wolf instincts held me down, silent, invisible, a shadow amongst shadows. I played the waiting game. The bull stepped closer, his tail swishing, hooves crunching the soil, his teeth grinding the grass. His warm beefy odor wafted to me on the light breeze. Saliva squirted into my closed mouth.

  I almost couldn’t believe it. The silly bull never looked up to test the wind, glance about for potential threats, or listen for predators. Trusting in the safety of the herd he nonchalantly ambled away from. He took two more munching steps –

  Now.

  ‘Twas my instinct’s voice, not Darius, that cracked through my gut.

  Like a streak of black lightning, I lunged out from under the thicket. Panicked, his brown eyes ringing white, the bull spun fast. His tail lifted high above his shaggy back, he galloped away. Back toward the safety of his now frightened herd. He was fast, I’ll give him that.

  He wasn’t fast enough.

  I leaped.

  Like Ly’Tana vaulting into her saddle, I jumped aboard the young bull. My claws raked his back and sides, splayed for purchase on his thick hide. He bellowed his fear, his horns sweeping up and back, trying to brush me off. His hindquarters bucked and twisted.

  I seized hold of his thick neck and bit down. Deep and hard.

  My tongue tasted hot, coppery blood as my fangs delved into his neck, searching for his spine. Deep into thick muscle, through the heavy cords, my teeth met bone. In a savage twist, I snapped his neck, killing him instantly.

  He went down in a tangle of hooves, horns and thrashing legs. I rode him all the way to the ground. His final impact with the hard earth tossed me headfirst into the heather, stones and soil, but I was up again in a flash. Just in case he was faking it.

  He wasn’t.

  Too ravenous to see to my own safety, I ripped open his throat and drank down the sweet nectar of his blood. My appetite, silenced while I stalked and killed the bull, woke and screamed for more. With claws and fangs, I opened his gut and bolted down the tasty beef heart and liver. I lifted my head, partially satisfied. Licking my bloody jaws, I at last checked the surrounding area for danger to myself.

  The feral herd, bolting when I killed this fellow, had vanished. Birds, familiar with the cycle of death and life around them, cheeped quietly as they settled in for the night. An owl hooted off in the tree thicket, no doubt eyeing me as I gulped down raw, bloody meat. Maybe he envied me my kill.

  “Well done.”

  I ignored Darius as I bit off and downed mouthfuls of the warm beef. I fed for perhaps an hour before I finally felt sated enough to stand back, licking bovine blood from my lips. Leaving my kill, I padded back to the streamlet and drank down the cold, wonderful water. My belly, bloated, now ached most satisfactorily. I washed my face, chest and front legs of excess gore, then drank a little more. With my gut filled to overflowing with food and water, exhaustion took over.

  I walked back to my bull, sniffing it. Plenty more meat of the creature remained. Disinclined to cover it, I found a sheltered spot under the sheltering branches of a tall fir. I lay down, warm in my thick black pelt, full of warm food and good water, tired to the point of exhaustion. I didn’t even ponder Darius’ s
ilence as I drifted off to sleep.

  Late into the night, I woke and yawned, cold, stiff, hungry again. Above me, the stars had wheeled toward the dawn. The half-moon lay inches above the western horizon. Dawn wouldn’t rise for a few hours yet. I listened, sniffed the wind, but found nothing on its presence to alarm me. Even Darius perhaps slept, if he ever did, for he failed to speak.

  I stretched, my tongue dropping halfway to my knees in yet another enormous yawn, and wandered back to the bull. No longer warm, the cold air slowed its inevitable decay. It still tasted delicious as I once again filled my belly. Strength would return soon, I thought. After this, I could run for days.

  Satisfied once more, I returned to my bed under the thicket and curled into a black ball, legs folded under me, my tail over my face. I slept.

  Ly’Tana lay wakeful in her pallet, her emerald eyes wide and watching those who hadn’t yet sought their rest. Rygel, Kel’Ratan and Corwyn sat around the fire as Arianne sat between her two irritated lovers. Wolves and men lay about the warm fire, huddled against the cold desert night, some talking, a few already asleep. Her faithful Left and Right, wrapped in their bedrolls, lay watching between her and Arianne’s tent.

  Ly’Tana lifted her beautiful face toward the moon, her eyes shut, and her lips half-smiling. My son huddled close to her, asleep, the sweet, dreamless slumber of the very young. She spoke to someone, her fair lips moving slowly, as though in a dream. Yet, she slept not.

  Ly’Tana’s eyes found mine. She called my name, her kitten teeth flashing, a moment before she rolled onto her side. Cuddling my son close into her breast, my love slept at last.

  When the dawn sun’s rays finally reached me in this cold northern highland, it found me finishing off the last of the bull. I crunched his bones in my strong jaws, swallowing down the healthy marrow. His entrails, his meat, all save his tail, his hooves and his head, disappeared down my throat. Strength returned with a rush. Drinking thirstily from the streamlet, I listened to the birds wake and start their territorial quarrels. The hawk, having not the luck I did, blew past, overhead, beak angling down to eye me with yellow raptor eyes. A raven, perched on the highest branch of a tall pine, watched me with curious black eyes.

  “Better now?”

  “Much,” I sighed, feeling strong. My tail even wagged, the first in a long while.

  “A few more of those and maybe I won’t see your ribs any longer.”

  “Bite me,” I replied pleasantly, jumping the streamlet and beginning to lope. Northward, as always.

  “Is such rudeness necessary?”

  “I am what I am.”

  “You’re rude and a boor.”

  “Like father like son,” I laughed, my tongue lolling.

  My paws flew over the stony ground. On I galloped, my tongue hanging from my jaw, my nose scenting odors on the breeze long before my tongue tasted them. I felt not the cold, the heather, nor the stony soil beneath my paws. I ran, for the first time since leaving her, with joy.

  Leagues flowed beneath me like water. I bounded past startled deer, antlered elk, horned cattle, ignoring them all. Flocks of wooly, big-horned sheep leaped away from me, the rams and their curling horns turning back, protecting the ewes and the lambs should I threaten them. I’d never seen such creatures before, but knew I’d remember them when hunger burned again. I bet I could run one of them down.

  The hills and streams meandered through the dips and valleys, the ground growing higher and higher over the long days. The pleasant highland heather gave way to cold-hardened tundra under my paws. The tough, sparse grass thinned and melted away, the stunted pine trees, branches growing on only the south side, grew ever smaller. Only the thorny scrub bushes grew in strength and numbers. Streams still flowed, offering their life-giving gift to those who drank, but ice challenged the rocks for supremacy on the water.

  High on a plateau, I paused to survey the area. I’d run for almost two days after killing and devouring the young bull, sleeping only for half the nights. Every time I slept, I saw Ly’Tana. And I grieved. My heart broke open anew every time I saw her in my vision’s eyes. I told her how much I loved her, seeing her face lift and turn north as though she heard me.

  Below me lay a broad lake, its pebbled shingle lapped pleasantly by the shallow wavelets. I needed to cross it. Its long length ran east to west. Its narrow end lay to the north. Broad forests of pine trees and thickets surrounded its circumference, trails running to and from its shores explained how many creatures drank from it. The signs of bears, deer, elk, feral cattle, wild pigs, and the sheep I so admired lay upon its sandy shores. Even the tracks of smaller creatures like rabbits, marmots, lynx, rats, foxes, ermine, raccoons and a few others I failed to recognize.

  Hawks and eagles screamed from on high, and I paused to watch their graceful flight overhead. An eagle, its bronze wings folded close to its back, suddenly dove downward, toward the clear still water. Fascinated, I paused, mid-lap, as it dipped a tiny feather to wing in at a frightful speed over the lake. Its talons struck the surface. With a screech, it beat upward, a large fish caught in its talons.

  “Fish sounds wonderful,” I commented wistfully, as the eagle carried its catch back to its nest and nestlings. “I haven’t had fish since –“

  “Unless you can charm the fish to you with your magic, you have to be human to catch one.”

  “Perhaps I might sit here for a spell and catch a fish or two for dinner.”

  Reflected atop the blue water, the broken summits reared high above, beckoning me, looking as though I might cross the lake and mount their shoulders. I wasn’t deceived, however. The clear, mountain air confused the eye, brought the peaks closer in my vision, as though they were but a few yards from where I stood on the high tundra plateau. Hundreds of leagues still lay between me and my destination, with winter arriving on icy wings.

  “You can’t afford the time.”

  “What I can’t afford is the lack of strength if I don’t eat.”

  I needed to eat again soon. Like many of the creatures living in this high altitude wilderness, food in the belly kept one warm as well as alive. The young bull kept me going for a few days, but my healing and the past week of no food left me seriously weakened. My massive wolf body still hovered on the brink of starvation. I needed food, and lots of it, if I was to have the strength to climb the high, snow-covered mountains and fight the Guardian.

  “So you must, I expect.”

  Before I could make good on a caustic response, my ears caught a strange sound. My head whipped up and back. My nostrils quivered to catch a scent, any scent, on the fine breeze.

  Deep inside my head, I heard Ly’Tana’s voice scream a warning. Look out behind you.

  My ears caught the baying of dogs at the same instant Darius spoke in my head.

  “Hounds.”

  Hunters, I thought.

  “On your trail.”

  Somehow, in her dreams, she saw me. She saw the hunters closing in.

  I looked back, over my shoulder. Not at or toward the local hunters or their mutts. I gazed south, the love in my heart seeking her. My tongue, caught between my fangs, protruded from between my shut teeth. South where she lay sleeping, seeing me in her dreams. Watching through her closed eyes, crossing the immense distance, observing me and the predicament I was in.

  I love you, I tried to say, hoping she heard me across the long lonely leagues. Just as when I napped under the light of the sun, I watched her ride within the protection of her warriors, laughing, feeding my wolf child. At night, I sat with her as she wept by the firelight when she thought no one lay awake to witness her tears. Somehow, in some strange, indiscernible way, we saw each other only when we slept. The gift of…whom? I’d no idea. Rygel, perhaps? I discarded that thought immediately. He hadn’t the subtly. Perhaps Darius gave us this gift, since through his fault we were separated.

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “I bloody don’t.”

  I love you, I repeated, aiming
to send my thoughts, my love, back across the distance to her.

  If she saw me, if she heard me, I’ll probably never know. I pushed her vision, albeit with reluctance, from me and focused only the image of small hounds baying, following me by scent, their hunters dogging their heels.

  “Gods above and below,” I snarled, baring my fangs in the still air. “This I do not need.”

  “Whether you need them or not, there they are.”

  I loped back up, along my own footprints, to crest the low hill I’d just traversed down to the lakeshore.

  Behind me, appearing and disappearing behind the pockets of pine, juniper and spruce, four horsemen rode, dark woolen cloaks flapping in the breeze they made. Over the mossy tundra, leaping white deadwood and dodging formations of rock, they spurred their scrawny mounts along behind their baying coursers. Hunters, dressed against the chill of autumn so high up, wore thick deerskins, cleverly sewn to fit their bodies. Furred hoods lay against their backs, not necessary under this warm sun, their cloaks flung back.

  I’d no need to read their minds. Somehow, some way, I ran past them, oblivious to their presence, the biggest wolf they’d ever seen. To them, I was a prize beyond belief. Not just the biggest wolf they ever encountered, but probably the blackest. They aimed to kill me, and boast of their success to their cronies in the village. They’d display my hide for all to admire, make a necklace of my teeth, my claws. In their eyes, I became a trophy wolf.

  “Thanks,” I snapped at Darius.

  “What did I do?”

  “Thanks to you and your gift of size and color, those idiots want to make me into a furry tapestry.”

  “I had no say in either.”

  “Right,” I snapped, turning swiftly to lope back downhill, toward the lake.

  “I didn’t. Your superior size, your color, is you.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  The sounds of the hunt grew closer, much faster than I anticipated. Diverted too soon from my communion with Ly’Tana, I snarled again. This is ridiculous, I thought. I’m being chased by primitives who probably hadn’t even discovered fire yet.