Rhamin

by Bryce THOMAS

  Little Ben was in his own room in the farmhouse, lying on a frame made of wood, and was covered by a light sheet of woven fabric, the same stuff from which humans make coats to cover their naked hairless bodies. The room was light for an enclosed space. Through an open window, a strong shaft of moonlight was gradually panning the room as the earth slowly turned. Eventually, as the hour passed, the light fell across Ben’s little face. He was smiling and talking in his sleep. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

  Rasci couldn’t see anybody there, but to the boy his dream seemed real as he continued to chat to his friend.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  Rasci heard him repeat the name. ‘Rasci? That’s an unusual name.’

  The boy listened to something the imaginary wolf was saying to him in his sleep. Rasci strained to hear, but he heard nothing. ‘I need to talk to you,’ Rasci called out.

  Ben carried on chatting in his sleep.

  ‘I need your help,’ Rasci called again.

  Ben stirred.

  ‘I need to talk to you and your father.’

  Ben’s eyelids fluttered.

  ‘Ben, can you hear me?’

  Ben’s eyes opened and he lifted his head. ‘Rasci, is that really you?’ he asked, looking to the side of the bed.

  ‘Yes,’ Rasci replied. ‘It really is me.’

  ‘Why do you keep disappearing?’ Ben’s little voice asked as he rubbed his eyes.

  Rasci understood what he meant. ‘I can only visit you in a spirit form for the time being.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘What it means, is that we are connected by our thoughts,’ Rasci tried to explain. ‘And when we are connected by our thoughts, we see each other as if we were together. Do you understand?’

  Ben nodded. It was a universal signal of understanding, but he confirmed it with a, ‘Yes.’

  Rasci was about to speak again, when Ben said, ‘Will we meet in real life then?’

  ‘Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ explained Rasci. ‘I would like to visit you in person. Wolf to wolf as it were.’

  ‘Wolf to wolf?’

  ‘Yes, Ben. You are an honorary wolf you know.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes, you are. You have been an honorary wolf ever since your father saved Rhamin from being shot by that man on the mountain.’

  ‘Petersen, you mean?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘He’s got Rhamin, you know? I asked Daddy the last time I had seen you. He says Petersen has definitely got The Black Wolf.’

  ‘Yes, I believe that is so, my young friend. Rhamin was my leader, and I want to save him, but I don’t know how I can do it.’

  Ben thought for a moment. ‘I don’t think there is any way to save him,’ he said eventually. ‘But Daddy says Rhamin is supposed to be happy with plenty of other wolves to be friends with.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that Ben. Freedom is precious. Neither wolves nor men were put on this earth to be kept prisoner against their will.’

  ‘My friend May’s mother is locked up all day in an office, but she is let out to go home at night.’

  ‘There are many kinds of prison, Ben. That “office” as you call it will be a prison of her own choosing. Even wolves can live their lives in a self made a prison.’ He thought about the mental strings that were binding him to the dark oppressive prison of leadership. ‘But that man, Petersen as you call him, has taken Rhamin and his mate against their will. Wolves are born to be free. They travel thousands of miles a year, seeing different things every step of the way. They hunt when they are hungry. I expect that Petersen feeds his captives regularly?’

  ‘I expect so,’ Ben replied, frowning.

  ‘But wolves don’t eat regularly. We eat and then sleep for days. We enjoy the chase and the hunt. We enjoy being part of a community that relies on each member for survival. There is none of that in a prison. Their survival will depend on doing exactly what the man wants, looking like a wolf, but behaving like a dog.’

  Rasci suddenly realised what he had said. ‘I didn’t mean to criticise Smokey, Ben. But she was brought up to be a man’s companion. We wolves are brought up to be companions not only to other wolves, but to the animals we kill. Those animals benefit from our killing their weakest ones. And they seem to realise that we do not kill needlessly.’

  ‘That bad wolf killed Daddy’s cattle needlessly last spring.’

  ‘That is exactly right, Ben. We have bad wolves just as there are bad men.’

  ‘Is Petersen a bad man?’

  Rasci was careful to answer. ‘In a way he is, Ben. He may think he is doing something good, but what he is doing is for his own fun or to please other people. He isn’t concerned about the happiness of the animals he locks up, nor about their families. That is behaving badly.’

  Ben rubbed his eyes again. ‘Are you going to disappear again?’ he asked innocently, aware of the fragile connection.

  ‘Soon,’ Rasci replied.

  ‘But I don’t want you to go.’

  ‘Perhaps… perhaps we can do something about that,’ Rasci said, suddenly getting a flash of inspiration. ‘Perhaps we can actually meet in real life. Perhaps I can come to your home and talk to you as a real wolf.’

  ‘Can you do that?’ Ben asked, excitedly.

  Rasci thought for a moment. ‘Well, perhaps you could tell your father and your dog that I am coming to visit.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘In the morning.’

  ‘What, tomorrow?’

  ‘If I can.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, that’s the problem. I’m not sure I can just walk up to your house.’

  Ben fidgeted eagerly. ‘I could tell Mummy and Daddy that you are coming to visit.’

  ‘What about Smokey?’

  ‘I can ask Daddy to keep her under control.’

  ‘Look, Ben,’ Rasci said seriously. ‘It’s not only my life that depends on your managing to persuade them that I come in friendship. Rhamin’s life too could well depend on it. Can you tell your father that the life of Rhamin, The Black Wolf that saved him from the bears, depends on our friendship? Do you understand?’

  Ben nodded. ‘Yes, I understand Rasci.’

  Rasci watched him for a moment. ‘I’m going to go now, Ben. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘You’re my best friend next to Smokey,’ Ben called after the evaporating vision.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Rasci squeaked and turned his weight onto his other side.

  ‘I could kill you and you wouldn’t even know about it,’ a voice said in the background.

  ‘What?’ Rasci’s eyes sprung open.

  ‘You don’t exactly hide from danger.’

  Rasci’s eyes focussed. As he came to his senses, he realised he was looking at a wolf who he had never seen before. She was smaller than he was, but then most female wolves are smaller than males. She was dark grey with a lighter grey chest. Her eyes, like all wolves, were amber, but they carried a light that Rasci hadn’t noticed in the eyes of other wolves. It would be hard to explain it, but he felt there was something magnetic, something that impelled him to gaze into them. ‘Who… who are you?’ he said, tentatively.

  ‘I could have killed you, you know that?’

  ‘No you couldn’t.’

  ‘You were giving your position away. I could hear you for miles.’

  ‘No you couldn’t.’

  ‘So why are you lurking here in a hollow in the shadows?’

  ‘I’m resting, not lurking.’

  ‘Well, I can’t argue with that. You were certainly resting! Not a light sleeper though, I can confirm that much.’

  Rasci didn’t want to explain. ‘Who are you, anyway?’

  ‘I asked you first.’

  ‘No you didn’t.’

  ‘Sleep where you drop heh? Not a good example to set for your pack. You were totally exposed to attack.’


  ‘I wasn’t trying to set an example.’

  ‘No, just trying to get killed. There is danger in this area. Be warned.’

  ‘What danger?’

  The unfamiliar wolf smiled. It was a rather becoming smile actually, Rasci thought. She avoided the question. ‘That’s why wolves don’t snore like some other animals. We don’t make a noise, so that predators don’t know where we are.’

  ‘I don’t snore.’

  ‘No, you don’t talk and shout and kick at the sides of your hollow and stir up lots of dust, either, do you?’

  ‘Hollow?’ Rasci realised he was peeping up at the newcomer from his sleeping place, and jumped up quickly. ‘Oh, it’s not my hollow.’ He didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘No, I can see that. You share it with that big bear.’

  Rasci swivelled around. ‘What big bear?’

  The visitor laughed. ‘So what’s your name?’

  ‘I think I just asked you that,’ Rasci complained.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Well I’m Rasci, anyway.’

  ‘Roxana, pleased to meet you.’

  ‘No, Rasci.’

  She laughed again. ‘No, I’m Roxana.’

  ‘Oh, right. Er… er, pleased to meet you then,’ he shrugged.

  ‘Glad to hear it, Rasci Anyway.’

  Rasci smiled. ‘Just Rasci.’ The smile broadened to a grin. He was looking at a wolf with a good sense of humour. He suddenly felt more at ease. ‘So what are you doing around here?’

  ‘Around here? Oh, I am just passing through.’

  He looked past her into the distance. ‘You haven’t seen any other wolves around or bears or anything?’

  ‘No. Why should I have?’

  ‘Oh, no. It’s just that sometimes I get the feeling I’m being followed.’

  ‘Well, I can say I haven’t seen anybody.’

  ‘You’re alone then?’

  ‘Yes, now that I’ve squeezed through this crowd behind me.’

  Rasci laughed when he realised he had begun to glance past her shoulder again. She tilted her head and scrutinised Rasci’s face. ‘And you?’

  ‘Me? Oh, I live here.’

  ‘In a hole, by a man made wire hedge?’

  ‘Not here,’ said Rasci, looking down at the hollow. He scanned the area with his eyes. ‘All around,’ he said. ‘This is Rha…this is my pack’s territory.’

  ‘And who’s your leader?’

  ‘Why?’ The question had been a little too direct. It caught him off balance.

  ‘Well, I might think of joining.’

  Rasci considered his options. Here he was in the middle of nowhere and along comes an attractive young female, probably a couple of years younger than himself. He was cautious. ‘Our leader is away at the moment,’ he said convincingly. ‘He’s coming back soon.’

  ‘Oh, how fascinating! Where has he gone? Is it important?’

  ‘Well, since he’s a pack leader, I should have thought so,’ Rasci answered evasively. ‘So where is your pack?’ he countered, to change the subject.

  ‘I left. I had a problem with the leading female.’

  ‘Really?’

  Roxana smiled. ‘I didn’t like being second in line. I want to be a mate to a pack leader.’

  ‘Really? Got ambitions then?’

  She looked at Rasci charmingly. He looked back at her, enchanted. She was indeed a beautiful wolf. Her coat was clean and smooth; her amber eyes glinted in the starlight. Her dark grey coat, though not as dark as that of his leader, in the night light, reminded him of Rhamin. ‘Where are you heading?’ she asked eventually.

  ‘Er…’ Rasci shrugged. He had no idea whether to trust this wolf, and he had no idea if she would believe him if he did trust her. He certainly couldn’t discuss his plan to see the farmer with her. He hadn’t even discussed it with his own pack. ‘I was on my way to the northern hills,’ he lied.

  ‘Is it far?’

  ‘Not really. I trust you came from the south then?’

  ‘Yes,’ Roxana nodded.

  ‘I’ll have to be going soon,’ said Rasci trying to make his excuse and leave. He didn’t want to give his true mission away. But more than that, he just didn’t feel he could explain it.

  ‘Oh, can I come with you?’

  Taken aback, Rasci fumbled for words. ‘Is that where you’re going then?’

  Roxana nodded eagerly.

  ‘Oh, right. Hmm, the thing is…’

  ‘You’d rather be alone?’

  ‘It’s nothing personal. It’s just that I am used to being on my own, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. I understand.’ Roxana didn’t seem a bit upset. ‘Thought I’d ask, though. Might have been interesting.’ She threw Rasci a glance that seemed to say something more. He couldn’t speak. She turned to leave. ‘You know where to find me,’ she called over her shoulder as she broke into a light trot.

  Rasci watched her disappear into the night. He still hadn’t had an answer to his question. How did Roxana happen to be where he was sleeping? In all the thousands of square miles of territory, in the middle of the night, she happened along at just the same place and at the same time. The lone wolf had unsettled him now. Roxana seemed to know more than just Rasci’s whereabouts. She seemed to know about some kind of danger. Just what that danger was, Rasci had yet to discover, but for the time being, he was going to stay awake.

  –––––––

  Shafts of light forced their way through holes in the thick grey clouds to brighten another dull morning. A cold northerly wind was making waves in the dry, brown tussock grass. In the distance, a pair of vultures hovered on a thermal, waiting for the spoils of the wolf ’s day. But Rasci didn’t feel like hunting. He felt nothing but trepidation at the thought of going into the heart of the farm. He had only a dream upon which to rely for calming his raw nerves. And in the reasoning of full consciousness it seemed far less likely to work. The idea that he could just walk into the farm was not backed by any solid fact or incident. ‘It was just a dream,’ he muttered to himself, incoherently. ‘Ben is probably not Ben. He’s probably a Zoglan or Sumplinck or some other un-pronounceable human name I’ve never heard of.’

  Dejected by the way his whole life had turned around, he slumped back down into the hollow and wound his tail around his face. The cold wind from the north was picking up dust and gritty sand particles and, with a mind of its own, and with the singular purpose of demoralising Rasci, it was slinging them at his eyes. He closed them and began to think of a way he could just turn around and head back to the Darin.

  Suddenly, he was with Rhamin again. Only, this time, he wasn’t seeing the events as a spectator. This time, he could clearly see himself. He was alongside his leader, fighting some more unfamiliar wolves, but they were not the same that he had seen before. Yet, this time, although Yeltsa was there, she had a white leg. It was Rhamin, Yeltsa and Rasci against the rest. It was another time, another place, another dream.

  Then he saw himself walking alongside a dark grey wolf. He recognised her. It was Roxana. They trotted along, side by side, chatting and being good friends.

  The distant sound of cattle lowing for their young ones broke him out of his trance. Turning with the wind to his back, he considered his options. He could go back to the Darin, but then he would be no further forward in finding Rhamin. And what would he tell Zelda and Silvah and the rest of the pack? He could go into the centre of this farm and get killed. Then he wouldn’t have to explain anything to his comrades. He could stay there and think about it a bit more. Yes, that seemed like a reasonable course of action. He would settle down and rest a bit more and daydream.

  –––––––

  Ben was up and about early. Even his father, who was usually the first to rise, was still sleeping soundly beside Ben’s mother, in the next room. As he looked out of the open window towards the distant plain, a wisp of blond feathery hair fell over his eyes and he brushed it aside with his tiny finge
rs. He leaned on the sill with his elbows and rested his chin on the palms of his hands and patiently waited. Not once, in the next hour and a half did the young child move from the window. Not once did he doubt that he was going to receive a visitor.

  Eventually, Ben was distracted by movement in the adjacent room. A cough and the sound of his father clearing his throat, made Ben turn away. He rushed over to the door and turned the handle. Pulling his bedroom door wide open, he waited on the landing for his father to emerge from his room. He knew he must wait. He had always been told never to disturb his mother and father while they were asleep; though that didn’t seem to stop his little sister Margo from disturbing them. He had often seen her heading towards his parent’s room, toy bear under her arm, sleepily wiping her eyes with the back of her fist. She would just turn the handle and walk in. He wasn’t allowed to do that. But he forgave Margo. She was still very young.

  Eventually, the door handle turned and the door opened. His father looked down at Ben. ‘Good morning, my little Action Man,’ he said and bent down and lifted Ben up to his chest. ‘And what gets you up so bright and early on a cold morning like this?’

  ‘Daddy…’ Ben put his hand against his father’s cheek.

  ‘Yes my boy?’

  ‘Daddy, I’m glad the wolf saved you from the bears.’ Raymond chuckled.

  ‘So am I my little boy.’ He nodded and smiled, giving Ben an affectionate squeeze. ‘So am I.’

  ‘Daddy…’

  ‘Yes, Poppet, what is it?’

  ‘Daddy, can my friend come to visit me?’

  ‘Well of course she can.’

  ‘No, not May, Daddy. I mean, well she can come, but what I mean is my other friend.’

  ‘Your other friend?’ his father said jokingly. ‘And just who might that be?’

  ‘His name’s Rasci.’

  Raymond screwed up his face. ‘This is your imaginary friend, I take it?’ He had been told the full story of how Ben had been talking to his invisible friend, Rasci, by Ben’s mother. She had been a little worried, but Raymond had said that he thought it was perfectly natural for a child who was playing by himself to make up imaginary friends and places and all sorts of other things to make his games more realistic.