Wolf's Guile

by Laura Taylor

  Added to that was the extra worry that Baron hadn’t had time to fully explore the property yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure that there weren’t pockets that could be overlooked by surrounding properties. He’d managed to check the full length of the boundary, at least, and while it had none of Misty Hills’ technological enhancements, it was clearly and solidly demarcated, and as secure as they were able to make it in the few short days they’d been here. It was a combination of stone walls, chain link fence and impenetrable hedgerows, and the likelihood of anyone accidentally wandering onto the property was minute.

  Even so, given what had happened last time they were in Scotland, Baron was still feeling uneasy.

  None too soon, the three vans pulled up and the doors opened, spilling their guests onto the driveway. Sempre’s choices had been from Romania, Spain, Greece and two different packs from Russia, while the Council had chosen packs in France, Italy, Lithuania, Finland and Ukraine. Baron was bracing himself for the chaos that was about to arrive on his doorstep. Even before considering the differences in shifter culture, lifestyle and spiritual beliefs, the vastly differing human cultures mixed up in that lot were going to be a horrendous headache.

  Contacting some of the packs had been easier than expected. In five of the countries, the local Il Trosa pack had been in regular contact with the Grey Watch, and contacting them had been as simple as making a phone call or sending one of their members a few hours away to meet in person. A few other packs had been harder to track down, with the one in Finland the hardest to find. In the end it had taken a two day run across icy terrain in wolf form for the Council’s messengers to locate the isolated pack. Fortunately, the Watch had responded to the messengers’ howls, leading them to their camp and cutting down on what could have been a prolonged expedition roaming around the wilderness trying to pick up the pack’s trail.

  The Grey Watch themselves had been surprisingly cooperative. The message each pack had been given was simple: the British Grey Watch pack stood accused of breaching the Treaty of Erim Kai Bahn, and their involvement was requested to negotiate a peaceful resolution. Each pack had been asked to send either an alpha or a 2IC, along with a translator, for those who didn’t speak English, or another member of the pack selected at their discretion. It was an indication of the seriousness with which the Treaty was taken that every single pack had agreed to attend, regardless of the distance they had to travel or the difficulty of the terrain they’d have to cross to get to the nearest airport.

  As Baron watched the people emerging from the vans, a myriad of small details caught his attention. First of all, not all of the new arrivals wore the signature grey robes of the Watch. While they were all dressed plainly, with little regard for fashion, some of them favoured modern trousers and warm jackets. Was it a concession to the climate they’d come from, or were some of the packs less bound by tradition than Sempre’s?

  But despite their clothing choices, few of them had brought much in the way of luggage, and he supposed that the minimalistic lifestyle of the Watch must be a fairly universal one. From what he’d seen of their local pack, personal possessions were all but non-existent, the trappings of modern society considered an evil to be shunned.

  The next thing that caught him by surprise was that not all the delegates were female. And what’s more, he didn’t think the males who had come were there to act as translators. No, the handful of men among the group all carried themselves with an air of confidence and authority. Though Baron had suspected that not all packs in the Watch ruled over their men with the same iron fist that Sempre did, the group as a whole was known for its matriarchal culture. So how did these strong, independent men fit into the larger pack structure? It was startling to realise how little Baron knew of the Grey Watch nation, and he wondered how many other things he thought he knew about them were wrong.

  Finally, everyone was out of the vans and lined up in front of them, and Eleanor stepped forward. “Welcome to Britain, and thank you all for coming,” she said formally, pausing to give the translators time to speak. “My name is Eleanor Renoir. And this is Feng Lam, and Paula Kivi. We are the designated representatives of Il Trosa’s Council and will be acting on behalf of the whole of Il Trosa. As you were told by our messengers, you have been invited here to negotiate a peaceful resolution to a breach of the Treaty of Erim Kai Bahn. Sempre-Ul and various members of her pack stand accused of giving the Noturatii details of the location of Il Trosa’s British Den. The alphas of this Den are Joseph Baron and Caroline Saunders.” Baron bowed respectfully to the newcomers as Eleanor introduced him, and beside him, Caroline did the same. “Now I’d like to invite you all to introduce yourselves, and tell us which pack you represent.”

  The first woman stepped forward, a tall blond with a muscular frame. “My name is Linnea-Ul, alpha of the pack in Finland. This is Kielo-Ul, my advisor.”

  It seemed the ‘Ul’ suffix was another common factor amongst the Grey Watch, Baron observed, as the visitors stepped forward one by one. It was an Old Language word that meant wolf, and he had heard it was tradition among the Grey Watch to call themselves either by their given name with the ‘Ul’ suffix, or in many cases, to choose a different name altogether. The ties implied by human family names were cast aside when members joined the pack, and as a reflection of their close association with nature, many of their members chose nature-related names.

  The shifters from Ukraine and Spain both introduced themselves, the Spanish alpha speaking via her translator, and then a man stepped forward, and Baron watched him with interest, wondering what his story was. “My name is Kajus,” he said, in clear English, though he had a strong accent. “I am second in rank of the pack in Lithuania.” As both a tall and muscular man, Kajus stood out among the crowd, but there was more about him to draw attention, and Baron couldn’t help giving him a thorough once over… and then going back for a second look. Tattoos decorated his forearms, various wild animals inked skilfully amongst tribal patterns, and he wore buckskin clothing: fur-covered boots, long trousers, a loose shirt and a coat that appeared to be made of bear fur. His long hair was braided down one side, and a short beard rounded off the image of a consummate backwoodsman.

  But Baron also noticed that Kajus had omitted to use the usual ‘Ul’ suffix to his name, and he was immediately curious about why. Did he and his pack simply choose not to use it, or…? “And this is Vasara-Ul, my advisor,” he added, gesturing to the woman beside him.

  Interesting. The next pair stepped forward, a man and a woman. “This is Luke,” the woman said, as the man nodded his head to the Council. “He is second in rank in the pack in Greece. And I am Rita-Ul, his translator.”

  Were males forbidden from using the ‘Ul’ suffix for their names? And if so, was it mere convention, or some sort of restriction based on their matriarchal culture? Though it was really nothing to do with him, Baron found himself offended by the difference in the way the males of the Watch were treated.

  One of the Russian pairs stepped forward next, giving Baron no more time for speculation now, but he made a mental note to ask Kajus about it later. It would give him an excuse to talk to the man, if nothing else, and he was rather curious about a man who managed to be 2IC in a Watch pack.

  Standing amongst the members of his Den, Andre watched the introductions with a niggling restlessness. Before coming to this estate, the Council had given a lot of consideration to security, given that they were firstly going to be welcoming a significant number of high profile guests, and secondly, that there was a high risk of tempers flaring over the next week or so while the talks went on.

  So while all the attention of both the Den and Sempre’s pack was currently focused on the introductions, Andre’s neck was prickling with the knowledge that the group was being watched by three very experienced, very focused pairs of eyes: the assassins who had come at Eleanor’s request. After a short briefing yesterday, the three of them had disappeared, and unless something went drastically wro
ng, they would not be heard from again until the end of the trial.

  Andre fought the urge to look around and see if he could spot them, knowing that it would not only be a waste of time, but would also make him look silly. One of them, he knew, was on the roof of the manor, but though he could have easily picked out half a dozen other potential observation points, he hadn’t yet worked out exactly where the other two were lurking.

  Which, in all honesty, was exactly how it should be.

  A part of him was extremely grateful that the assassins had been called in. There were all manner of unpleasant tasks that might be required of them, from killing intruders – both the accidental and the combative kind – to stepping in to defend the Panel or Council members in case anyone started threatening anyone else, to putting various shifters down, depending on the result of the talks, and it was a huge relief to know that there was now no risk that Andre himself would be expected to do any of those things.

  But another part of him was also embarrassed by the others’ presence. He hadn’t spoken to any of the assassins since he’d retired and didn’t know what his former friends and comrades would think of the decision. Being an assassin was a sacred duty. Would they think less of him? Would they think he had abandoned them? Would they think he was no longer up to the job?

  And more to the point, was he still up to the job? While he was still working hard to keep fit, he was no longer carrying out anything like the amount of training he would have done had he still been in active service, and it was concerning to think that the next time he went into battle, his strength and reflexes might not be what they had been before.

  All of that was perfectly normal, Andre reminded himself sharply. He had been well beyond tired of the nomadic life of killing and had no regrets about having left it behind.

  And yet…

  “We would also like to introduce Genna-Ul,” Eleanor said, and Andre realised that the rest of the Grey Watch had finished introducing themselves. “Genna is a member of Sempre’s pack, and she is both one of the accused in this trial and a key witness.” Genna stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “In addition to the breach of the Treaty, Genna is also accused of murdering Sempre’s second in command, an act which she claims was in self defence. This aspect of proceedings is a little complicated; the Treaty requires us to return Genna to the Grey Watch for judgement over this crime, and yet the Treaty itself has now been called into question, so we’re hoping that a suitable resolution can be reached on this additional matter throughout the trial.”

  A brief wave of muttering rose from the group, but settled down quickly.

  “And finally we have Jack Miller,” Eleanor went on, and Andre braced himself for the Panel’s reaction to this introduction. From the sudden nervous shuffling around him, it seemed he wasn’t the only one expecting trouble. “Jack is a former Noturatii operative who has renounced his past associations and has become a full-blooded shifter of the line of Harkans.”

  She didn’t get any further. A volley of what sounded like swearing in multiple languages was flung at them, and Andre was certain he heard a few choice words in both French and Italian, the two other languages he was fluent in.

  “His word has no validity in this trial!” someone shouted.

  “You betray us!” the French alpha snarled, in French, while various others called for Miller to be put down, or in the case of the translators, they valiantly attempted to translate what their colleagues were shouting about, before eventually giving up.

  For his part, Miller waited patiently, showing no hint of nervousness at all. At one point he glanced at Baron, who merely held up a hand telling him to stay put, and Miller did so without any further question. It was heartening to see how much the man now trusted his alpha, the readiness with which he would follow instructions, and Andre felt a warm admiration for both men.

  “Enough!” a voice shouted finally, and Andre looked over to see that Kajus, the man from Lithuania, had stepped forward. He had an unusual way about him, his mannerisms reminding Andre both of Nikolai, the Ukrainian alpha, who was incredibly laid back, while being a strong leader at the same time, and of John, with his fits of anger and vicious combat style. “Please, let us discuss this,” Kajus shouted to his comrades, who eventually quietened down and waited impatiently for him to speak. He turned to Eleanor, head held high, lips drawn back in a hint of a snarl. “If you expected us to share company with a Noturatii man, renounced or not,” Kajus told her sharply, “then we should have been informed before we came here. And some of us may well have reconsidered the decision to come.”

  “Miller is a member of Il Trosa,” Eleanor said firmly, not backing down one inch, “and he bears no more threat to you than any other member of this pack.”

  “We should have been informed,” Kajus repeated pointedly, one hand resting on the long knife that hung from his waist. Andre’s own hand was on the handgun nestled inside his jacket, though he wasn’t quite sure what he intended to do with it. Shooting a member of the Panel would be a disaster, no matter the reason behind it.

  Eleanor seemed to have nothing to say to that, but then Feng stepped in instead. “It was an issue we overlooked due to the shortage of time in planning this negotiation,” he said diplomatically. “You are right; we should have thought to inform you. I apologise for the oversight, but I must also reiterate that Miller poses no threat to you.”

  “You are more diplomatic than your colleague,” Kajus said to Feng, eyeing Eleanor resentfully. “We appreciate the apology, and I hope we can all move past this unfortunate beginning,” he said, looking around to garner support from the others. Muttered agreements came back at him, and Andre was impressed at the way he seemed able to rally the group together, both expressing his displeasure and moving beyond it to see the bigger picture. “I take it Miller will be providing evidence of some sort for this hearing?” he asked, pre-empting the explanation that Eleanor hadn’t quite managed to get out.

  “He will,” Feng said. “We’ve set aside a private courtyard to hold the talks in, but we’ll need to discuss our agenda and set out a schedule of who needs to be interviewed, and what issues in particular we’ll need to discuss.”

  “Now would be a perfect time to clarify what exactly we’re aiming to achieve here,” Linnea spoke up, no less of a leader than Kajus was proving to be. “The Treaty has been breached, and it’s a grand goal to say we aim to secure ‘peace’ for our people, but as far as the Council is concerned, what would this peace look like? What penalties are you seeking, what specific decisions from the Watch? We could well decide the guilt or innocence of every person here, and yet the Noturatii could still find your Den and kill your members, and even putting down everyone in Sempre’s pack couldn’t guarantee the safety of Il Trosa.”

  “True enough,” Eleanor agreed. “In some ways, the damage has been done. But there are three things we believe need to be addressed: firstly, those responsible must be punished in some way, as a simple outworking of justice. Secondly, this punishment must be severe enough to act as a firm deterrent to other packs. If others feel that the perpetrators were able to simply get away with their actions, then what’s to stop this travesty happening again? And lastly, we are seeking strategies to improve the safety of Baron and Caroline’s pack. We’ve been making plans to move them and bought this estate for that express purpose…” There was a wave of muttering and a burst of restless shuffling at the news, but with everything else that had been going on, most of the Den had already guessed that that was the plan. “…but it was at great expense to us and will cause significant inconveniences well into the future. Many people in this Den currently hold jobs in their local area, they have contacts in the human world for various resources, they have trusted tradespeople for urgent repairs. All of these things are not easily picked up and moved, just because we have acquired a new property. Some form of compensation from the Grey Watch, or suggestions for alternative strategies will be required that will have a materia
l impact on the safety of this Den.”

  Linnea nodded, along with a number of her companions. “Reasonable goals with what sound like reasonable outcomes.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time to discuss more details later,” Feng spoke up, “but in the interests of full disclosure, there is one other thing I believe we should mention. It recently came to our attention that Genna-Ul is a particle mage.”

  Every single head among the Grey Watch turned to look at Genna, shock and awe written all over their faces, while Genna shrank back in embarrassment.

  “Truly?” Linnea asked in a hushed voice.

  “She is untrained,” Sempre said, conveying the full depth of her disappointment in that simple statement. “But yes, she has inherited the magic.”

  “Thank you for telling us,” Kajus said, with deliberate politeness. “That will certainly factor into any future discussions.”

  Muttering spread through the group, and then Rita, the Greek translator spoke up. “Luke would like to request a demonstration of Genna’s abilities,” she said loudly. A number of voices quickly agreed with her.

  “We should certainly see what she can do,” Linnea said. “But perhaps in an hour or so. Many of us have travelled a long way and may like to freshen up or have a short rest before we jump straight into things.”

  So far so good, Andre thought to himself. The eclectic group was bound to have some disagreements, and even forceful arguments along the way, but with a couple of strong leaders already emerging to steer their course, he was hopeful that things might stay on track.