After the meal, Canis spoke to Tory, “I can fix your nose, if you like. I did not mean to break it.”
Tory chuckled. “I got what I deserved, I suppose. I just hope it ends up straight. I never was much to look at, but a crooked nose sure won’t help any.”
“It should be fairly straight; I took the time to straighten it as soon as I checked to make sure I had not killed you.”
“Did you now; I guess I aught to thank you for that then,” he said, and took Canis’s plate.
“You aught to let him fix your nose, Tory,” said Dagon. “You’ll scare my aunt to death if she sees you like that.”
“Oh that’s right, you did say she was quite a looker,” said Tory. He turned back to Canis. “If you don’t mind then. I wouldn’t want to frighten the lady away.”
Canis smiled and said, “You better sit down.”
Tory handed the plates to James and sat back down on his saddle.
Canis knelt down in front of him and rested both his thumbs on his face on either side of his swollen nose. He used the rest of his hands to grip Tory’s head so he couldn’t jerk back inadvertently.
When he opened his eyes again, there were tears streaming down Tory’s face, but much of the bruising had been washed away and most of the swelling was gone.
Tory sniffed and said, “That hurt. Are you done?”
“I guess so. You look a lot better,” said Canis.
“What do you mean, ‘you guess so’, you’re the healer,” said Tory as he touched his tender face.
“It is more than I am willing to explain. It is something your Madison and I were at odds over. Perhaps tomorrow I can make more of the bruising go away.”
Over the next four days, Canis’s relationship with Dagon and his men relaxed a good deal. The horses grew accustomed to the Wulfen as well. They took to sharing the same camp, though he refused to dip into their supplies unless he was adding his share to it.
The next day they headed out onto the sand again. “Conserve your water,” said Canis after he tested the dry air unnoticed. “It may be a while before we come across another spring.”
“What makes you say that?” asked Dagon.
“Just a feeling mostly, this sand is not here because there is plenty of water around and I cannot see the other side from here.”
They spent two days in the sands of the desert before finding another strip of land with grass for the horses. They camped early to let them eat their fill.
The narrow spit of grassy land lasted them for another three days, then they came upon what Canis thought might be some ruins. They were eating their supper when Canis suddenly jumped up and drew his sword. “Stay here,” he said. He was gone into the dark with all but two of the Wulfen running in his wake.
Cepheid stood and drew her sword. When Tory and James started to go after him, she said, “No, stay here. He said for you all to stay. It’s definitely safer for you here. Bring the horses in close. We should guard them at least until he comes back.”
“What’s he doing out there? What happened?” asked Dagon.
“I’m not sure,” said Cepheid, “but it would be very dangerous to go after him.”
The first scream echoing from the dark galvanized the men. Before she could stop them, Dagon, followed closely by Folco and Earl charged off into the dark. “No!” she yelled after them. She turned to the white Wulfi at her side. “Tell him to watch for them.”
“What are you saying?” asked Tory. “Did you say something to that wolf?”
She whirled on him and snarled. “Pay attention to what we must protect here and hope that they don’t find him, because if they do, he might kill them before he knows who they are.”
“What are you saying?” he asked again and turned to face the dark again as another scream sliced through the night.
“He hunts in the dark. With all of us here, every person he meets out there is a person who threatens us. He may not be able to tell who they are before he strikes, and if he takes the time to identify every person he finds, it could cost him his life. Believe me, if they all survive this, I know three men who will have to answer to me.”
Over the next two hours, the sounds of fighting and death echoed in the dark then it was quiet.
A few minutes later, Canis called out, “We’re coming in.” All four men were blooded, as were all four of the Wulfen who had gone with Canis at first. Close examination revealed that none of the men got away unscathed, but none of the injuries were very bad.
After splashing snow on his face and touching a small scratch there, Canis went to each of them and healed their wounds then he sat down and poured himself a cup of water.
Cepheid saw his jaw muscles clenching as he gave an inordinate amount of attention to his drink. Choosing Folco, the tallest of the three, she strode up to him and hit him hard on the jaw. Then before he had hit the ground, she whirled on Earl and did the same. She would have meted out the same to Dagon, but Canis caught her hand. She snarled and jerked her hand from his grip and hit him as well, though he was slightly more prepared for it and wasn’t knocked down, then even Dagon felt her fury.
No one moved against her; no one moved at all. She stood in their midst and turned back and forth in a furious sway that constantly shifted her view from one to the other of the men around her. “If you ever do anything like that again, I’ll kill you.” Then she stormed off to where their furs had been placed.
Canis was calmer, or at least he looked calmer, but his voice was smooth and low. “She means it,” he said, then started toward their furs after her. He paused and looked back over his shoulder at them. “And I’ll let her.”
The next morning was understandably strained. All four of Cepheid’s targets of the night before sported a glorious fist-sized bruise somewhere on their face and none of them asked to have them healed.
By noon, they came across a tiny half-frozen creek and the horses drank thirstily; they also finally ran out of wind. It was a welcome relief. That night they were definitely among the ruins of a city, though Canis had no way of knowing which city it was.
Two days later, he knew exactly where they were; he had hunted these ruins and swamps for almost a year. At the north end of the Grand Market Street, Canis stopped them and said, “I’ll take my leave of you now.”
Dagon asked, “Why? Why don’t you come with us the rest of the way? It’s not far. I think my father would like to meet you.”
“Perhaps another time; I must tend to business of my own in another direction.” Canis retreated, back the way he had come, and Dagon watched them until they disappeared. As soon as Dagon and his party were out of sight, Canis turned north and went deeper into the ruins.
He found them a corner where there was a tiny trickle of water running among the stones and made them a camp for the night. That night, he said to Cepheid, “Now it is your turn to lead. I want you to look around until you find a spot you like. That is where I will build you a home; one that will last us a while at least.”
“A home? Really? Oh, this is so exciting,” she said and snuggled close, smiling.
Chicago
Canis and Cepheid spent nearly two weeks happily roaming and hunting the ruins around the city of Chicago until Cepheid found a place she liked. It was less than two miles from the northern end of the Grand Market Street and close to good grazing and water for the horses. The place she selected had a wide sloping hole for an entrance that led deep under the massive jumble of stone. Even in daylight, the way was quickly lost in dark, so Canis made them a crude torch to continue exploring.
The wide entrance quickly choked off to a narrow hallway before opening up again into a large, pillared chamber. Off to the left was a doorway that gave onto a good-sized room with another smaller room after. Being underground, there were no windows for light, and if there had been doors at one time, there were none now.
“Here,” said Cepheid. “We can stay here. We can have our sleeping furs there and our living room he
re. Even the smoke from the torch seeps away somewhere here. I think this place will be fine.”
Canis examined the walls and the ceiling closely. There were a few cracks, but nothing seemed to be inclined to sag. He found a place in the corner where his torch smoke seeped out through a slightly wider crack. “I will put the fireplace here. We can house the horses in the outer chamber if we have to, but it would be better if we found them someplace outside; they would not like this dark.” He turned to face her. “How would you like to go shopping?”
Over the next month, their little den evolved into a cozy home. While Cepheid washed, cleaned, and arranged their belongings around their two rooms, Canis bought mortar and built a fireplace. He went to the clearing and brought in firewood and stacked it just outside the door. He also went to the market street to buy whatever Cepheid wanted to complete their space: a barrel for water, blankets for their nest, baskets and boxes for their supplies and milled lumber for a table and a counter and many other things.
Shopping was not the only thing Canis did when he went to the market street. He also fished for information, taking great care about who saw him. He never approached or left the street from the same direction or location and he avoided shopping at the same store more than once if he could manage it. With a market street stretching four miles, this wasn’t much of a problem.
Most of the Wulfen followed him when he went out, and when he was out on the market street; they roamed the alleys nearby, always staying close should he need them. He was sure the constables who roamed the market thought it rather odd how those alleys became devoid of the seedier members of society.
One day he caught a scent he recognized, it belonged to a young woman who was about thirteen or fourteen years old. She had curly brown hair that brushed the hood of her cloak and Canis suspected that she had large dark eyes, but he never let himself come within her range of view. Curious, Canis followed her as she did her shopping. She smiled and chatted with the shop owners, but didn’t linger long anywhere. Canis continued to follow her to her home, which confirmed who she was, and he smiled. So, she had managed to stay safe from her father. He wondered what it would be like to kneel at that shrine again. He reached up and touched the stone between his brows, then turned away. Behind him, each Wulfi dropped their nose to her path.
When he finished buying the things they needed, he settled down to building their furniture. He added stout legs to the table and fixed a counter to a wall near the fireplace. He made them chairs and blocked up several shelves along another wall. He hung their largest hide over the door to hold in the heat.
Through all of this, Cepheid’s tummy grew rapidly, or at least it seemed to. Now that they had stopped traveling, she was no longer wearing her bulky furs. One of the things Canis bought for her was a warm woolen robe. She sometimes wore his clothes, but she looked so like a child in them with the sleeves and legs rolled up. He had to laugh the first time she did it, then he had to hold her and comfort her when she started to cry. He loved her so much.
The day finally came when their home was complete. Warmly lit by several candles and lamps as well as the firelight, the empty square chambers had become cozy and comforting. Rranggrr and her growing family dozed in a corner near the hearth and the others cluttered the floor wherever they dropped.
One morning, when they lingered in their nest, Cepheid said, “Spring is not so far away now; I smell it on the wind. Go and earn your gold so you can be free of your burden. Then we can be a proper family.” She rubbed her rounded belly.
Canis rubbed her belly too and felt a tiny arm or leg slide beneath his hand. “Yes,” he said. “With all do speed. I will be glad to be rid of it.” He left the building with a determined stride, Rrusharr, Ggrrawrr, and the still nameless half-grown pups in his wake.
Over the next two months, Canis went out in the evening and returned some time before dawn. Every time, he brought with him two to four gold coins or the equivalent in silver.
Since he occasionally came home with blood splatters on his clothes, Cepheid knew that he fought battles for his gold, but she didn’t comment about it. She knew he did it only because he needed to earn the gold quickly. She knew he would stop as soon as his debt was paid. She looked forward to that day.
During the day, Canis did whatever chores needed to be done to ensure Cepheid’s comfort and he showed her the joys of spring that were starting to show up as the snow melted. He brought her to tiny plants that poked through the snow to open small feathery blue flowers, or yellow, cup shaped flowers that showed up later. She had never seen flowers before and whenever he showed her a new discovery, she added it to her round of visits. Every day, she visited these colorful wonders and watched them grow, bloom and die back to be replaced by other wonders large and small as the snow receded farther than she had ever experienced.
They were as new to him as they were to her, though he had seen them before. Canis loved to watch her discover them, and through her, he enjoyed them as if he was seeing them for the first time too, but these little joys were shadowed by his concerns for their future. He had been getting paid well enough guarding caravans as they crossed the country from city to city, but Cepheid couldn’t travel any longer. She needed a home. His family needed shelter and security and none of that would happen if he were away with some caravan for large chunks of time.
Long ago, he had planned to fight for the gold he needed and doing so now allowed him to be here every day, but there were dangers that hadn’t mattered before Cepheid came into his life. There was always the danger that there was a fighter out there who would get lucky and he wouldn’t be able to come home.
He saw little choice, so every night he went to the fight club north of the market street on the banks of a small creek. Every night he took on any challenger who stepped forward, and so far, every night, he won. Crowds of people started to gather in growing numbers to see him fight and the odds were becoming stiffer every time he stepped into the ring. He wondered when his notoriety would force him to quit. He wondered if he would know when the wrong person learned of his existence.
The man who ran the fight club was always very careful, but his resources were becoming strained, and yet he refused to ask Canis to stop. He liked the generous tumble of gold that was falling into his pockets. He liked to watch Canis fight. He liked to see blood spilled.
The day finally came when Canis thought he could stop. One or two more fights and he would have enough to pay Patro back for what he had cost him. He stepped into the roped off ring and the ringmaster started to call for takers naming odds and bets as they occurred and touting Canis undefeated record.
After several tense minutes, a tall man stepped into the ring and the betting was furious. Canis didn’t hear any of it. The man was powerfully built, though he had a generous amount of gray on the sides of his head, and the rest of his black hair was dulled by it. A familiar scar ran from his right eye to the corner of his mouth that pulled his face into an indecipherable mask. The day had come. The wrong person had learned of his presence. He was surprised to see the shiny steel collar around his corded neck. He wondered if Dagon had sold him into slavery after capturing him. He wondered who owned that collar now. He wondered who else was out there.
The first clash was fast and furious, and the crowd’s roar was deafening. The second clash went so completely wrong.
“Double-crossing fatherless scat-eaters,” snarled Rrusharr, and Canis felt her launch herself to avoid arrows aimed at her and the others.
Time slowed as many things happened all in the span of a few heartbeats.
Thump-ump
Canis whirled to face the danger behind him.
Stanton grabbed his braid and jerked him back off balance.
Rrusharr’s shriek said she’d been unable to dodge to safety.
Ggrrawrr and his black-furred son tasted blood.
Thump-ump
Rrusharr’s light went out as she, bows, bowmen, and Canis all hit the grou
nd and stayed where they lay.
Thump-ump
People screamed and scattered.
Stanton sliced Canis’s studded braid off at its base and pulled the barbs from his hand.
Canis watched in horror as the black chasm that was Rrusharr’s death engulfed him like a tidal wave.
Thump-ump
Just before it pulled him under, he whispered. “Keep her safe. Take her home.” And then he knew no more.
When Ggrrawrr returned to Cepheid, he brought with him the only thing he could. He found Cepheid curled up in her nest. She smelled of grief and fear. He dropped Canis’s severed braid on the edge of the blankets. Without sacrificing the rest of them, he could do no more. The odds were too great and he had Canis’s last wishes to consider.
“We go home now,” said Nnarr softly.
“No,” said Cepheid as she gripped the braid and picked at the blood on its barbs. “No, I cannot go anywhere. This is home. Is he alive?” When she got no answer, she asked again, louder, “Is he alive?” She did not miss the one other glaring absence here.
After a protracted moment Nnarr answered, “He walks in shadow.”
“No!” wailed Cepheid and her wail trailed on into a howl of despair as she curled up around her bulging belly.
Half-Breed Page 38
