Prince Wolf

by A. Katie Rose

  I breathed in his noxious breath as he bent over my face, his hazel eyes alight with anticipation and greed.

  “You’re the last one captured.”

  My eyes rolled up toward him. Ja’Teel nodded soberly, his thick harelip quirking in a faint smile. “His Majesty has in his possession that errant trio: your useless mate, your dimwit sister and my illustrious cousin. You know, I just can’t wait to see him again. I’m so excited I just had to share. As I’m solely responsible for bringing you in, he’ll justly award me. Rygel is mine, for His Majesty promised me. Poor Tenzin can have my sloppy seconds.”

  Whatever life, strength, my heart still held withered and died. Without Ly’Tana, Arianne – Rygel. What hope for life?

  “I’m going to have such fun –“

  “My lord, what now?” the soldier asked, twitching slightly, as though bugs crept under his skin. Sweat trickled down his bristly cheeks to pool in his purple and gold uniform. Unfortunately, his crossbow aim remained true, hovering somewhere between my eyes and slackened not one little bit.

  Ja’Teel straightened, his pale features brightening. “His Majesty and Lord Tenzin remain below. They anxiously await news of our success.”

  “I meant ‘what now’ for us. What in the name of all the gods do we do with him?”

  Had I the willpower, I might laugh. It’s not like they could toss me on a horse and carry me down. Even if they found a horse willing and strong enough, not a one of them could lift my tremendous weight and put me on it.

  “Don’t you idiots listen?” Ja’Teel snapped. “Put him on that contraption I made you build and drag his heavy ass down.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  That contraption proved to be a network of strong branches interwoven, laced and lashed together. Fire-hardened leather thongs bound it all together. Heavy chains attached to the works lead to the traces of a pair of huge black and white draft horses. Despite their blinkers, they snorted in fear, wanting to bolt after their first scent of me. They weren’t dumb, those two. They knew very well indeed should I waken from this spell, I’d have them for a light snack. Only the pair of uneasy Tongu at their heads prevented a wild bolt.

  Gasping and gasping, the four Khalidians, including the one who spoke, dragged and cursed my heavy, dead weight onto the thing. They didn’t bother to tie me down, as they trusted Ja’Teel’s word that, should I wake, I’d never in a million years collect enough willpower to fight or free myself. Despite my imposing size, they feared Ja’Teel, and his influence with the King, more than they feared me.

  Only the vocal soldier, standing near my muzzle, still worried. “My lord, what if he wakes up?”

  Ja’Teel snorted. “Idiot,” he muttered, under his breath. Aloud he said, “Give him a dose of this at both dusk and dawn.”

  I heard the soft leather rattle of a saddlebag opened, fumbled through and buckled shut again. Ja’Teel stepped forward, into my line of sight. His arm stretched outward, over my bulky shoulder. The soldier glanced at the vial in his hand, down at me, then back again. “Uh –“

  “He won’t know his own mother if she called him from the beyond,” Ja’Teel snapped. “Trust me for it.”

  Not true, I thought. My mother – What was her name?

  Crap. That bastard might indeed prove truthful.

  Focusing on thought and memory required willpower, and that Ja’Teel stole from me.

  Ja’Teel’s voice sounded as though he spoke from a mile away. Certainly Rygel’s kin in blood, he launched into a teaching lecture. “This drug I invented keeps him drunk, helpless. He can hear and see, but he has no will. He can’t focus enough willpower to light a match with his magic. I doubt he can even change himself into a man, now.”

  I truly despised him for how right he turned out to be.

  Ja’Teel’s obnoxious drug offered me nothing to spring from, to escape, to change into my other body. My willpower, my magic, closed upon nothing. I clasped empty air only to forget the reason I tried in the first place.

  Where was my fist?

  It’s around here somewhere. I think.

  Dammit, I know I can do this.

  I needed to be a man to fight a man.

  I willed myself to change from my wolf clothes into my natural man-shape.

  Instead, I slid deeper into darkness. I floundered, angry, grabbing, seizing my elusive powers only to have them trickle, like fine, dry soil, through my cupped hands. Not fair, I thought. Not fair at all.

  Fingers lifted my upper lip.

  “Gods,” a voice breathed, queerly loud in my ears after the distance Ja’Teel’s voice drifted across, “take a look at them fangs.”

  “After he’s dead, I’ll put one on a chain. Bring me luck, so it will.”

  “His Majesty wants him alive,” Ja’Teel reminded them. “And undamaged. Should you get tempted to disobey him or me, you’ll die, horribly. By crucifixion, as I know you know. I presided over many of your brothers inelegantly nailed to a tree for the simple reason: they didn’t believe.”

  Ja’Teel’s voice dropped to a single menacing note. “King Broughton seldom tolerates less than one hundred percent. Fail in your duty and you’ll wish your mother hadn’t uncrossed her legs that night. Remember this.”

  “Remember what?” another demanded, his voice so soft I almost couldn’t hear him. “Remember we serve a madman?”

  “Remember this,” muttered the soldier closest to my ear.

  Damn, did he just make that sign? Did he create that convergence of two fingers specifically inviting Ja’Teel to commit the anatomically impossible? He surely did. I know it. Had I any emotion left to me, I’d laugh. And I’d salute that soldier.

  “Here are his cordials.”

  “His what?”

  Ja’Teel sighed, clearly put out with those soldiers beneath his notice. “Dawn and dusk, pour a few drops onto his tongue. It’ll keep him incapacitated. I’ll ride ahead to inform His Majesty of our success.”

  “What success?” the intelligent voice demanded. “We’ve a huge black wolf lying here. What if he wakes up?”

  “He won’t,” Ja’Teel snapped. “Listen, moron. Keep feeding this down his throat twice a day and he’ll never fight again.”

  “Bloody hell,” the soldier muttered. “I’m not liking this, not one bit.”

  “You don’t have to like it,” Ja’Teel grated. “You’ve only to do as you’re told.”

  The soldiers swung into their saddles, their mounts dancing and snorting with fear. Their sergeant barked orders, organizing his men. “You, check those trace chains. Can’t have them pop at the worst moment. Corporal, hand me his, er, cordials. You two, yes, you, ride alongside the drafts. Keep ‘em steady.”

  The Tongu, fascinated, stared at me as their hounds sat at their feet and wuffed softly. Cruelly curbing his black horse with a sharp jab to its mouth, Ja’Teel swung into his saddle. He settled his cloak about his shoulders, adjusting it until it fell in black folds to his spurs. Walking his nervous mount closer to me, Ja’Teel gazed down, his harelip sneering. “I look forward to our next meeting, Prince Wolf.”

  Good riddance, I thought.

  Straightening, he shrugged. “I plan to hone my talents on you first, before using them on Rygel. Must have perfection, you know.”

  You go, dog, I tried to say, drifting.

  He straightened in his saddle, offering me a mock salute. “Pity you won’t have enough of a mind left to appreciate true artistry.”

  Chuckling at his juvenile show of wit, Ja’Teel yanked his beast’s head around and set sharp spurs to the horse’s silky black hide. Blood sprayed, dotting my muzzle with red droplets. The horse galloped hard, away from the torment, ducking under trees and almost brushed Ja’Teel out of the saddle. Within moments, even the sound of his hooves vanished into the unimportant distance.

  “Come on, lads,” the sergeant sighed. “Let’s deliver this poor bugger to his fate.”

  I heard the swift flap of reins and sharp chi
rrups to the draft team. I drifted on a dark tide as the horses started out, their traces jangling, pulling me behind them. Sleep hovered close. I let it drag me down where pain, regret and sorrow failed to follow.

  Saga of the Black Wolf, Book Four

  Under the Wolf’s Shadow

  Enjoy this brief excerpt:

  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, but 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.”

  Also by A. Katie Rose

  "Behind familiar fantasy trappings await a marvelous adventure and a vibrant love story." Kirkus Reviews (Starred Review)

  About the Author

  A. Katie Rose is a workaholic living in San Antonio, Texas. With her day job as a photographer, she moonlights as a writer. When not working, she likes a weekend trail ride on her horses or just a quick trip around the pasture. Her extracurricular activities include long walks, reading, watching movies, camping, hiking and enjoying the company of friends around a fire.

  A Colorado native, she earned her B.A. in literature and history at Western State College, in Gunnison, Colorado. While in school, she won second place in a history term paper contest, an essay on King Richard III. In 1990, she rode her Arabian gelding, Tara Starbask, to win the Colorado Arabian Horse Club high point in Trail.

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