The Exiles

by Sven Grams

  Petrice looked back kindly, her expression the perfect example of consistency.

  ‘Did you hear any of what was said?’ the grey wolf asked eventually.

  Sara kept her own gaze steady.

  ‘Nothing that made any sense,’ Sara replied, this being her honest opinion on what she heard in any case.

  Still looking fixedly at the Mayor, Sara was becoming uncomfortable. Though the older female was not actively intimidating her in the slightest, Sara couldn’t help but feel uneasy. She felt as if not telling the Mayor the whole truth was somehow to her own disadvantage. Compelled to give extra information, Sara suddenly found herself talking again.

  ‘I did get a good look at them though when we fought,’ Sara said, before she could stop herself. ‘One was a young male wolf with brown fur and black hair, the other was an older male and had red fur and black hair, and he spoke as if he came from a good family.’ Sara realized that she had given away much more information then she had intended. ‘Ma’am’ she added, just to indicate to Petrice that this was the end of the information.

  ‘I thought you said you didn’t really hear what he said?’ asked Petrice, her question being framed innocently.

  ‘It was from the few words I heard him speak,’ Sara replied instantly. She then clamped her mouth firmly shut, to ensure that there would be no more slips of the tongue.

  The wolf leader thought about this for a second. Sara was beginning to fidget a little, hoping against hope that this was the end of the questions.

  ‘I was actually hoping to be getting home if you don’t mind, Ma’am,’ Sara found herself saying. This was slightly against protocol, but she felt that it would be acceptable given the circumstances. ‘You know. To tell my father,’ Sara added.

  ‘Certainly,’ replied Petrice, getting up.

  Out of habit, all three of the other wolves in the room began to rise from their seats, though the elderly neighbour couple immediately sat back down again.

  ‘Is there anything you need to get before you go?’ asked the elegant silver wolf.

  ‘No,’ replied Sara.

  ‘Well then, let me walk you out.’

  Petrice strolled through the door to the kitchen. Sara quickly thanked her grandfather’s neighbours for all their help. The concerned elderly couple offered to send a message as soon as there was a change in her grandfather’s condition.

  Walking through the kitchen, Sara met up with the Mayor in the backyard. In Petrice’s hands were Sara’s weapons, someone had placed them on the kitchen table, Sara had forgotten all about them in all the commotion.

  ‘You did a very brave thing tonight, Sara,’ the older female said, offering Sara back her weapons.

  ‘Thank you Ms Petrice,’ replied Sara, honestly happy for the compliment from someone like the silver female.

  ‘The fugitives should be either caught or long gone by now. But I can offer you an escort home if you like,’ offered the adult female, looking out into the night.

  ‘Thanks, but I should be fine Ma’am,’ Sara replied confidently. She was actually happy she was about to go, despite the fact she was leaving her grandfather in his current state.

  ‘If there is anything that you need,’ said Petrice, turning to the younger wolf. ‘Don’t hesitate to contact me.’ She gave Sara a genuine smile, laying a hand on the young female’s shoulder encouragingly.

  ‘Thanks Ms Petrice, that means a lot,’ Sara said with a tired smile of her own.

  Petrice gave Sara another encouraging nod before leaving her to re-enter the house.

  Sara stood alone in the cool night air for a second, once again going over what had just happened. Turning to walk towards the street that headed out of town, she decided that there was no use trying to avoid the hurricane that was her life any more, whatever was going on she was in the middle of it, now she just had to find a way out, without getting herself or her family killed it seemed.

  - CHAPTER NINE -

  Meanwhile, back at the ranch

  (The tale of Sara)

  Sara’s family farm came into view through the dark veil of night.

  Misha accelerated automatically, the young horse eager to get back home. Sara held the horse back, not wanting to go into a trot or galop in the dead of night.

  Sara’s home shone with a silver shimmer, curtesy of the brilliant moonlight. It was situated at the base of the hills that marked the edge of the Wolf Kingdom’s territory.

  Built in typical wolf style, the two-story timber A-frame structure was almost as tall as the nearby barn. Looking around, Sara could see the family’s herds of large shaggy beasts sleeping in the paddocks. They were curled up on the grass in large circular concentrations. In the half light of night the groups looked like giants furry marbles, all staked together neatly.

  Sara was annoyed with herself. Having jogged out of town back to her waiting horse, she had been two eager to get back home. Away from the town lamps there was no chance to read her grandfather’s documents anymore. Once she got home it would be impossible to light a candle or lamp without someone noticing, she also carried no light sources on her at the moment, wolfs having little difficulty in seeing well enough to travel on a clear night.

  Entering the courtyard in front of her house, Sara led Misha towards the barn.

  Sara’s left ear twitched, then turned automatically towards a low rustling sound. The young wolf was not thinking clearly, in shock, she automatically reached for her weapon. She relaxed immediately upon hearing a threatening low growl, a growl she knew well.

  ‘Pitch you rascal, get out here,’ Sara instructed in a whisper.

  It only took a moment before the growling creature appeared from the darkness. Bounding smoothly on all fours the animal’s long fury tail almost dragged in the dirt behind it. Circling Sara excitedly, the ossum rubbed its jaw against her legs. Sara could tell that the scruffy creature wanted to jump up, despite its training telling it not to.

  ‘Up Pitch,’ she instructed, giving the animal the all-clear to jump up.

  Sara leaned down and caught the ossum’s front paws as it jumped up to greet her. She had to make sure that Pitch’s powerful claws did not destroy her clothing. She rubbed the animal’s head.

  Pitch whined happily.

  Sara hugged the young male ossum, happy that at least one aspect of her life was still simple. From the dark emerged the second family ossum, an older male called Tatch. Unlike his younger counterpart, the older ossum had fully developed spots, which stood out markedly against his dark tan coat in the moonlight.

  ‘Hello Tatch old boy,’ said Sara happily, letting the younger animal drop to go and pat the family’s veteran pet.

  Pitch circled the two excitedly, trying to get more attention. Tatch was pretty much her father’s ossum, while Pitch had become close to Sara soon after they had purchased the ossum a few years ago. Patch began to whine slightly until Sara once again gave the younger animal more affection.

  The smile on Sara’s face slowly drained as she realised that she would soon have to talk to her mother.

  Perhaps it could wait till tomorrow? she thought to herself desperately. But it was no use, it was unlikely she would be able to sleep well in any case; it was only stalling the inevitable, she would simply have to get it over with.

  After returning Misha to the stables and patting Pitch one more time, Sara entered her home through the front door. The bottom floor was dark despite the moonlit night outside; wolf architecture usually had smaller windows and thicker walls to increase insulation in the cold winters. Lighting a candle, Sara then made her ways to the timber stairs.

  Sara considered quickly reading the letters, but she dismissed the thought, it was likely that someone would come down soon enough, now that she had lit a candle. If they found her reading the documents she would have little excuse not to let her family see them.

  Soon she found herself in front of her parent’s bedroom door. Solemnly she looked at the woodwork, unable to bring herse
lf to knock. She had used the hour or so riding home to think about how she would talk to her parents and how she would keep her grandfather’s secrets from them. Sara had gone through every scenario in her mind. What they would ask, what she would say. Now that she was here, however, it all simply left her, the fear returned, she would be found out.

  Sara couldn’t help but to think about what had happened to her and her family. How had it come to this? Having to lie to them seemed so alien. Despite all the arguments lately, she had never lied to her parent, or… at least, not really. They had only been white lies, and now they had built up into something out of control. Not only was she in danger, but her family was as well it seemed.

  The wolf youth frowned. Taking a deep breath and swallowing with difficulty, she tried to build up a new sense of determination. She would just have to get this over with. Her family was all that mattered now. Sara allayed her fears, concentrating on developing determination and passion for what she was about to do by thinking of her family and what she would have to do to protect them.

  I can do this, the girl thought, encouraging herself. Raising her clenched fist, she nocked gently. From inside she could here murmurs and rustling. Soon her father’s face emerged at the door, his sleepy eyes looking out from underneath his mess of short, light brown hair. Subconsciously, he stretched his top lip, twitching his moustache and long whiskers.

  ‘Sara? What is it?’ he asked, not unkindly.

  ‘Grandfather has been attacked,’ she said simply.

  Her father blinked a few times.

  Not long after, the Kelgorn household was assembled in the large open kitchen. Fera came in just as the other three had taken their seats.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Fera irritably. She did not appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night.

  ‘Your grandfather was attacked’ said their mother, her voice serious.

  Fera froze for a second, looking at her mother with a blank expression.

  Sara’s mother, Sallice, looked like a more mature version of Sara, having the same fur and hair colour as well as a similar haircut; but unlike her daughter, Sallice always wore her hair in a high ponytail.

  Fera looked from one family member to another.

  ‘What happened?’ Fera asked eventually, her voice not betraying any emotions.

  Sara’s father, Patt, raised an eyebrow at his oldest daughter’s clinical behaviour upon the grave news regarding her grandfather. Patt held his father in high regard, and like him, had similar grey fur and brown hair colour, he also had a small moustache in the same style as his father, though much smaller.

  ‘Sara was just about to give us all the details,’ said Sallice, her voice betraying a slight amount of anger. She was obviously upset with her youngest daughter.

  Fera took her seat.

  All eyes and ears turned to Sara, who then proceeded to give an identical account to the one she had told the wolf Mayor Petrice.

  ‘So the healer couldn’t say if he was going to make it or not?’ asked Sara’s father, once she was done.

  ‘No. Only that he would be unconscious for a few days…’ Sara replied, her voice downcast. ‘Assuming he pulls through.’

  Even Fera looked upset now.

  ‘If there is any change in his condition the Voraks will send a message,’ Sara added, referring to her grandfather’s elderly neighbours.

  ‘What exactly where you doing there this late at night anyway?’ asked Fera, her tone taking on an accusing edge.

  Distracted, Sara suddenly worried that her sister would go back on her word and tell on her about what had happened at RefugeCross. In all the time Sara had thought about what she would say to her parents, she had not included her sister into the equation

  ‘I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to talk to him, that’s all,’ Sara replied, her own tone becoming defensive.

  Sara and Fera exchanged glares, neither breaking the stare, as if trying to communicate without speaking. Sara was sure that Fera was close to going back on her word. Subconsciously, the young wolf began to fidget.

  ‘And what, again, was so important that it couldn’t wait till morning?’ Sara’s mother Sallice asked.

  Breaking eye contact with her sister, Sara addressed her mother.

  ‘Nothing important, just stuff about my training’ Sara stated. The young wolf stole another side glance at her sister.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were going?’ asked her father. His tone was more hurt then angry.

  Sara’s pointy ears drooped slightly. Her mothers anger the young female could handle, it was her fathers disappointment that was always the more difficult to endure.

  ‘I didn’t want to wake you,’ she offered to him meekly. ‘And I thought if I asked that you wouldn’t let me go,’ Sara added, looking back towards her mother.

  ‘You are damn right I wouldn’t have let you go!’ Sallice sneered, her patience at an end. ‘And exactly because of what-happened-tonight.’

  Sara glared back at her mother.

  ‘I’m old enough to take care of myself,’ Sara said in her defence.

  Sallice was about to counter when Patt interrupted.

  ‘By the sounds of it she did save his life, it was very lucky that she was there,’ he said. Patt’s voice was conciliatory, trying to defuse the situation before it spiralled into a shouting match.

  ‘And she could have been killed just as quickly,’ replied Sallice sharply. As Sallice spoke, the volume of her voice steadily increased. ‘Who knows what these bandits were capable of, if they were bandits at all.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Patt, confused.

  ‘Bandits don’t carry daggers dipped in sirricon,’ Sallice answered. ‘And they don’t try to kill Anthros.’

  ‘I always knew he was up to something,’ interrupted Fera, a satisfied smirk on her face.

  ‘Fera,’ warned Patt, irritably. ‘We don’t know anything yet, let’s not jump to conclusions.’

  But it was too late.

  ‘I bet he is part of the Mintury Society,’ continued Fera. She was happy for once to have her mother on her side of the argument. Normally Sallice would always defend Mr Thorntreck, but not tonight.

  Patt shot Fera a warning glare.

  ‘They were probably trying to assassinate him,’ Fera couldn’t stop herself from saying.

  ‘Fera! Hold your tongue,’ snapped her father, who looked towards his wife for support.

  None came, and an uncomfortable silence fell across the table. Sallice appeared deep in thought, while Patt was becoming more annoyed.

  ‘You are not to leave this farm without our express permission,’ ordered Sallice sternly. She was addressing Sara.

  ‘That’s not fair… I did save his life,’ growled Sara.

  ‘I, don’t, care,’ said Sallice slowly. Her voice was deadly low, and her pointy ears started to flatten slightly. Sick of being talked back too, she was tangibly intimidating her daughter. ‘If you disappear again, there, will, be, trouble.’

  Sara caved in quickly, her own ears drooping to the side. Her mother did not often get like this. She obviously meant business.

  ‘There is something going on, and no one is to do anything until I know what it is,’ Sallice instructed, her voice still a low growl.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ shot back Patt, annoyed by his wife’s apparent lack of faith in his father. ‘Nothing is going on, he was attacked by bandits. This is ridiculous.’ Patt’s own voice became ever louder. The male wolf looked towards his oldest daughter. Fera was sitting back with a smug expression, happy that her mother Sallice was siding with her. Looking towards Sara, Patt could tell that she was beaten, he would get no support.

  Anger welled within the adult male wolf. He and his wife had had numerous clashes recently regarding his father, not to mention the history of arguments regarding their family. This was unbelievable to him, a physical attack on his father should have brought his family together, not break it further ap
art. What was going on?

  ‘What has happened to this family?’ he asked angrily. ‘We should be heading over there right now to see if he’s ok.’

  Sallice looked towards her upset husband. She couldn’t understand his blind spot when it came to his father. Years of defending her father in law, Mr Thorntreck, and doing what he wanted had not led too much. Mostly it had led to a feud between Sallice and her oldest daughter Fera, which was only now being healed. And now her youngest daughter was mixed up with the old coot. As much as this pleased Patt, Sallice was of the growing opinion that the interaction was not in the best interest of Sara. This was now leading to the growing rift between her and Sara as well.

  Unfortunately, with her anger the way it was, Sallice was not in the mood to compromise, and uncharacteristically she let the argument continue in front of her children.

  ‘We are staying here for now,’ Sallice informed her husband.

  ‘Do you not care about our family?’ Patt growled. He himself also no longer cared if this continued in front of his daughters. His voice and expression had changed to match the intimidation of his wife’s. Behind him his tail began to flick around.

  ‘I care greatly about my family,’ Sallice growled back, turning up her forceful emotional projection.

  Sara became fearful, she had never been around such open hostility between mature wolves before, and coming from her parents it was even more intimidating. Across from Sara, Fera was also beginning to cringe as her father intensified his anger. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, his ears pressed flat against his head. Sara’s mind screamed for her to run, she had never been so scared in her life, the energy from her parents seemed like it could push her off her chair. If it wasn’t coming equally from both directions she would have sworn she would have fallen over.

  Sallice had had enough, she would not be told what to do in her own house. Leaning forward slightly, her nails dug into the table as her hands flexed.

  Patt held out for a few seconds, but then gave in, he had made his point. Letting go of his emotional anger, he still did not submit fully.