Wolf in Night

by Tara K. Harper

  She spent the next hour dutifully explaining and answering the children’s questions about the wilderness, but she couldn’t help watching the outriders pass and note who was talking to whom. Mato, B’Kosan, raiders, plague—

  The children broke back into her thoughts. “Black Wolf, tell us just one more.”

  “Aye, tell us about the poolah.”

  She sighed. She shouldn’t complain. Teaching duty was one of the easiest things to do, especially for a bruised-up body. Since the teaching wagon was open, it was also one of the better places to be to watch the chovas. “I suppose there’s time for a short one.” She launched into the story easily, grinning to herself as they listened wide-eyed. “. . . so I punched it with the rock. Right on the crown. I was so scared, I actually hit it hard enough to stun it, just for an instant. Then I shoved the rock down its throat. Broke two fangs on the way in. My jerkin bunched up around its teeth—it’s the only thing that saved my arm. It started choking, and I started stabbing it with my knife, and all the while its claws were tearing my pack, pants, everything it could kick. It finally chewed through my jerkin and started to rip into my arm—” She rubbed her forearm as if remembering. “So I punched it again, with the hilt of my knife. And found myself on my back, while it kicked out its death throes on my shredded boots.”

  “Were you . . . were you alright?” one child asked in the dramatic silence.

  “Aye. I’d cracked its crown like an egg. My pack was in shreds, my jacket was in ribbons, and my pants . . . Well, let’s just say they would have made fine netting for a Sidisport fisherman.” The children laughed. “I packed my wounds with . . .” She let her voice trail off expectantly.

  “Scofi moss,” guessed a girl.

  Nori smiled at her. “Aye, scofi moss mixed with wild angelica, two leaves for every handful of moss. I used flat-bark straps for my pack, which I softened by . . . ?”

  “Scraping with a rock and rubbing with raw elbi nuts,” put in a boy.

  She nodded. “And I returned to the scout camp limping. There’s just one thing.” She looked at each of them seriously. “How big do you think that poolah was?”

  “Three meters,” said one boy quickly.

  “Full grown,” said a girl.

  “As big as half a dnu,” said another child almost at the same time.

  Nori nodded as if considering their answers. Then she said quietly, “It was a baby poolah, not even weaned, and barely a meter long—including its tail.”

  The children stared at her as if she was joking.

  “Had it been full grown, I’d be dead as a . . . ?” She looked at one of the boys.

  “As a whipper lizard on shallow sand,” he answered eagerly.

  She nodded approval. “So what will you do if you run into a—”

  “Poolah,” the children shouted in unison. Nori hid a smile, and the children chorused obediently, “Poolah lurk right at the ground; when defending, crack their crowns.”

  Nori nodded to Payne as he reined in beside the wagon. “And for good practice, the second verse of the predator poem:

  “Wildcat fights for den or prey;

  Watch for tracks and stay away.

  Bollusk trample, charge, and kick;

  Climb a sturdy tree or cliff.”

  She broke off as Payne leaned over and said in a stage whisper to one of the girls, “I don’t think she’s remembering it right. The real verse is, ‘Bollusk charge and like to trample; climb, or be a flat soil sample.’ ”

  The girl giggled.

  Nori gave her brother an old-fashioned look. “Payne, don’t teach them that.”

  “Why not? You’re the one who taught it to me.” He winked at two of the boys. “Let’s see, I believe another one goes like this: ‘Dobo eels bite only once; let them nibble; don’t be a dunce.’ ”

  Even the boys were giggling now.

  Nori clamped her lips shut to keep from laughing. “Payne, cut it out,” she managed. “You’re not supposed to corrupt the teachings during class hour.”

  “Oh, right. Not during class hour. I forgot.” He slanted a glance at the small clock set into the wagon panel.

  “The rest of the verse,” she told the children archly, “goes like this:

  “Badgers swarm out of the sand;

  Talk and walk, don’t run or stand.

  Pritaries bite and bite again;

  Kick and shout and run like wind.”

  Payne checked the small clock again. “Aye,” he cut in. “Black Wolf never did get that last verse right. What she should have said was, ‘Pritaries like to bite your ass; best to run away real fast.’ ”

  One of the older children choked. The rest laughed outright.

  “Payne, if you don’t find something else to do—”

  “Just being helpful,” he said blithely. “And I did wait till after the class hour. I’m a firm believer in schooling. Why, I remember this one time—” He grinned at the students. “—when Nori and I were supposed to be learning history under old Master Hreggan, and Nori-girl got bored and decided to see how close she could call a pair of wild bollusk to—ow.”

  Nori had reached out, slid her hand down his arm to his ring finger, and started bending the finger back. “You’ll excuse us,” she told the children. “I believe it’s time for your math teacher.” She could see the reedy-slim woman already riding back to take over the class. She stepped across to Payne’s stirrup, forcing him to kink back his arm as she kept her hold of his finger.

  “Ow,” said Payne a bit louder as she guided him away from the wagon. The children hid their giggles behind their hands. “Ow,” they heard him say again. “Hey, Nori-girl, ease off. I can’t hold the reins—”

  Nori let him ride them out of earshot of the children. She finally released him to rub at his hand. “Is it possible,” she said into his ear, “that I could do any of this andyen duty without you turning it upside down?”

  He snorted at her. “Hells, Nori-girl, you scared the moons off their blessings with that poolah story. I was just lightening it back up before you bid them ride-safe.”

  “Right.” She gave his back a sour look. “Now all they’ll remember is, ‘Pritaries like to bite your ass.’ ”

  He gave her a lopsided grin over his shoulder. “Well, it is just as true.”

  Her lips twitched, and she looked away to keep from smiling. It would only make him worse.

  She told him about the tower codes and Mato. She was telling him about B’Kosan’s offer to challenge when she saw Hunter riding back. She broke off as she realized the Tamrani meant to rein in.

  Payne murmured, “I’ll check B’Kosan and Mato,” and left her to get her dnu.

  Hunter greeted her as she went to her last andyen duty, outriding another cozar. The Tamrani didn’t seem inclined to speak, which puzzled her. She kept slanting the tall man glances, and she could swear she saw a half smile on his lips a few times.

  “You were in the meeting wagon a long time,” she finally remarked.

  He glanced at her. “I wondered if you’d notice.”

  She gazed down the road to avoid his speculative expression. “I noticed that you’ve been talking almost nonstop with the elders.”

  “They mentioned you.”

  Aye, I bet they did, she thought. And Mato most of all. “I suppose they were after you to try to get me to do duty?”

  “Yes, once. Yesterday evening.”

  “Just once? Yesterday?”

  She didn’t realize how disbelieving she’d sounded until he chuckled. “Just once.”

  Which meant he either told them to leave him alone, and they did, or else he had agreed to try again to convince her to ride with him. “Condari, why are you still here?” she asked bluntly.

  “Call me Hunter. And I had business with your elders. Although I’ll admit that I now have another reason to stay.” He slanted her a meaningful glance.

  She could feel her cheeks heat. But his jaw had tightened for an instant as he mention
ed business, and she studied him carefully. “And Fentris?” she asked.

  “He, too, has business with your elders.”

  “They’re not my elders,” she said, half under her breath.

  He shot her an amused look. “No,” he agreed. “But not for want of trying.”

  She snorted. She spent the next two hours chewing on her thoughts and studying the Tamrani while Rishte howled to pull her back into the forest.

  Inns and taverns dotted the road at regular intervals, as did tiny wayside markets. That was one thing about cozar trains: they were slow enough that every family could shop, bargain, trade, and still keep up. Hunter wasn’t the only one to stop at the waysides. Nori watched while he passed three written messages and a coin to one of the ring-runners who waited in the shade. Fentris did the same, as did several chovas and two of the Sidisport merchants.

  Nori could feel Rishte watching from the forest. She wanted to be out there, on the trails. She needed to smell the trees, the ground, taste the branch water on eerin trails. And Rishte needed her. He needed the bond of the pack for company, for hunting, for defense. Danger that first night had tightened their bond, but they were not yet used to each other, and they gnawed in each other’s minds. Yet when she tried to stretch into the grey, the slitted eyes deep in her thoughts seemed to blink open to stop her. Death and the smell of predators, of lepa, of Aiueven and plague were too close in both their minds.

  Soon, soon, she tried to send. She needed to go now, into the wilderness. Feel the firm dirt on her heels, the soft leaves on her hands—

  “Nori,” Payne snapped sharply.

  She jerked. She was heading right for the verge, about to spur her dnu across and into the forest on the other side of the grass. She hadn’t even noticed her brother.

  He leaned across and gripped her arm for a long moment. “Alright?”

  “Aye,” she whispered. She blinked to clear her vision. Color washed back in. The movements around her dulled. “Alright,” she agreed shakily.

  Payne watched her closely. “He’s a year old, Nori-girl. There’s already strength in his call.”

  She opened her mouth, cleared the snarl from her throat, and finally said, “I understand. I won’t do that again.”

  “Damn right, you won’t.” But he scowled at a pair of chovas women who eyed them curiously. He drew her ahead and lowered his voice. “Why did he call? Was it . . . plague?”

  “No. He’s lonely,” she managed. “Just lonely.” She would go to the ridges tonight to be with him. She’d be safe enough in the forest. Even the raiders seemed as inclined as the cozar to stay within the circle or on the main bridle trails.

  He hesitated. “Can you feel it through him?”

  He meant the plague sense, and she shook her head. “Not here, not right now. There was something earlier, when he was near the base of another ridge, but I couldn’t tell if it really was plague or just something, like lepa, that reminded him of it.”

  “Best mark it down for Mama.”

  “Every time he’s nervous?” Nori snorted. “Mama would end up chasing every poolah trap, badgerbear den, lepa cave, and lily swamp from Sidisport to Shockton!”

  He gave her a sober look. “If even one of those sites is real . . .” He let his voice trail off ominously.

  “And if it’s just memories in the packsong?”

  He shrugged. “Mama will sort it out.”

  “Aye,” she agreed. Her gaze flicked to the hills. Even out of sight, Rishte was strong enough to challenge her. She had to remember that. If she forgot it, she could find herself riding blindly into the forest again, following the call. “Aye,” she repeated. “I’ll mark it down tonight.”

  She barely tolerated dinner when Payne and their uncles went to the circle tavern. It was a noisy place, large enough that the crowd was thick and volatile. Nori endured the laughter, shouts, clinking of glass, scraping of chairs on wooden floors, and the din of humanity for barely ten minutes before she fled. She made it back to the crowded kitchen, snagged a few meat scraps from a sympathetic cook, and slipped out with audible relief to the tree line.

  Rishte was waiting impatiently. The yearling stayed in the shadows of the dark trees, unwilling to come close to the weathered inn, but growled at her to come with him. When she laid down the meat scraps, he edged forward, nipped each piece quickly, and darted back to eat in the shadows. He didn’t meet her gaze till there was nothing left.

  Come, now, he sent.

  He turned, took a few steps, then looked back, waiting for her to follow. She had just risen when he startled, turned, and fled. Nori whirled.

  B’Kosan and two other chovas spilled out the back of the inn with the light from one of the side rooms. The three outriders spotted her, waved, and staggered her way. She felt her lips curl back. She was alone against the tree line, and her hand crept toward her knife.

  It was Wakje who arrested the motion. The thickset man appeared at the back door, glanced around casually, sat down on a nearby bench, and began to sharpen his knives. Nori found her lips twisting from snarl to humorless smile. B’Kosan must not have been as drunk as she thought, for he turned and staggered off with his partners.

  They were barely gone when Payne poked his own head out the door. He murmured something to Wakje, then strode across the grass to Nori. “Fireside’s going to start soon,” he reminded her. “You need to be there to make your apology, and we need to trade for arrows.”

  Nori glanced back and noted the two Tamrani as they got their dnu. “Hunter said the elders hadn’t bothered him about me.”

  “Well, hells, Nori-girl. They wouldn’t bother you, either, if you stood up to them once in a while.” He swung up in the saddle and grinned. “All you have to say is no.”

  “Mama never could.” She reined in beside him. “Why do you think she avoided Ariye for so many years while we were growing up?”

  He snorted. “You’re not Mama—or so you keep saying.”

  She blinked.

  He glanced behind them to make sure they were alone as they turned out onto the road. “You know the two men we followed and missed this morning?”

  “Ye-es,” she said warily, her thoughts still back on his other comment.

  “The uncles and I were wondering if you wanted to use your wolf for a bit of human hunting after fireside if those two go out again?”

  “Moons, Payne, you can track men, you can’t hunt them with a wolf. I’d be blacklisted from ever getting rank.”

  He shrugged. “What do you need it for? Rishte will never care.”

  “Anyone I take contract with might.”

  “I doubt it. The elders would swallow a lepa whole if they thought it would help you take contract at all, and I’m beginning to suspect Brithanas would, too.”

  Nori flushed slightly and hoped the darkness hid it. “He said he had business with the elders. Has he left yet?”

  “No, and it doesn’t look like he will.” Payne’s voice grew bland. “He’s asked for a guesting berth, as did the other Tamrani. They’ll be with us all the way into Shockton.” He chuckled. “Moons, you should have seen B’Kosan’s face when he heard the news that Fentris the Fop would be staying. The chovas just about choked. And maSera, that outrider with the long braid, when she heard Brithanas ask for the berth, she went and changed into her best blouse and boots, along with a dozen other women.” He shot Nori a look. “You didn’t let anything slip on Deepening Road did you, to encourage Brithanas to stay? You know how you are when you’re . . . anxious.”

  “When I’m scared out of my pants, you mean.”

  He teased ungently, “I would have said out of your shirt.”

  She flushed more darkly. She was wearing Hunter’s blouse again. She wondered suddenly if that was why the Tamrani had smiled so often to himself earlier. Her voice was sharper than she meant as she answered, “I told him nothing about wanting to Journey or anything else.”

  “Maybe, but Brithanas has that look. He may be w
anting a scout partner—” He broke off at her guilty expression. “He’s already approached you,” he accused. “He’s already asked you to ride with him.” His voice was suddenly hard. “You didn’t commit to him, did you?”

  “Of course not.”

  But her voice had been a bit too wistful. Payne cursed under his breath. “Moonworms, Nori-girl. The Lloroi would go along with a Tamrani request in a heartbeat if you even hinted that you were interested, and with the bond, you can’t argue, not against the Lloroi. And every elder would back him, and not just because it’s you they’d be getting on the council lists, but because you’ll be a wolfwalker. You’ll be welcome almost anywhere, especially with Brithanas. They always want to know what’s going on in the Tamrani Houses.”

  “It’s not as if I can Journey anyway, not if I’m to help find a cure for the plague.”

  “And who can you tell about that?”

  She had no answer. He could Journey, but she couldn’t. She could only tag along with him to hide her own work. “At least Rishte is still secret.”

  “For how long, with you snarling every hour? Ah, hells,” he said sourly. “We can hide the wolf if we have to ride the backtrails to do it. That should keep the bond unknown for at least another ninan.”

  “Just keep me off the in-train duties as much as possible. I don’t want some idiot like Mato saying I’ve promised to Test and take a Journey assignment because I’ve ridden duty for his wagon.”

  Payne nodded strongly. He was the last person to want her pushed into Test right now. The next ninan, with its Test and rank and Journey assignment, was supposed to be his, after all. “Don’t worry,” he told her firmly. “I give you my solemn, serious word, and you know how good that is—” She thwacked his shoulder, and he grinned. “—that it will be my goal in life to make sure you become the most unranked fighter in all of the first nine counties. After all,” he added slyly, “how else can I force you to look up to me, unless I have the greater skills?”