Catch a Wolf

by A. Katie Rose

  On the hills around us, dead men and horses lay silent and still upon the lush grass. A few loose horses galloped across the green sward to freedom. Many hundreds of Brutal’s soldiers stumbled to their feet, many injured, most dazed, all of them helpless. The unharmed assisted the wounded, calling for help, for bandages. Men ran to offer medical comfort and assistance to the injured. Wolves prowled the hillsides, ignoring those that offered no fight, sniffing out those that were still dangerous. The soldiers ignored the wolves as though they might domestic hounds.

  Bar dropped lightly to earth beside me, furling his wings. No one remained a threat to my safety. With no one left to kill, he returned to my side, chirping tiredly. He stank of blood and death, and I wrinkled my nose. I rubbed his ears, the only part of his head that wasn’t bloody.

  “You need a good dunking in the river,” I said.

  Leaving his victory behind him, Tashira galloped through the broken wall of troops, his aim Raine. Wolves followed hard after, leaving the hills to the soldiers of Khalid, tending to their wounded, putting down critically injured horses. They didn’t even seem to know we were still there.

  The battle was over.

  Now we, Raine, me, Arianne, Rygel, Tashira and Shardon and Bar, could regroup and return unmolested to Kel’Ratan, Corwyn and my boys. No doubt they were worried sick about us. Perhaps Bar could be persuaded to fly ahead and inform them all was well. I opened my mouth to ask him—

  In the distance, trumpets sounded.

  Raine gaped up the hill at me, as I stared, my hand shading my eyes, toward the source of the sounds.

  Brutal had said he had more cohorts outside Ja’Teel’s shield. He told me he had ten thousand troops on hand. I told him that number was not enough to take Connacht. We hadn’t just fought ten thousand troops. If someone put a knife to my throat and forced me to guess, I say we just fought maybe five hundred. Even then, that was a very generous figure.

  More troops galloped from the east, the north and the south, riding to the aid of their stricken comrades. Probably more rode in from the west as well, although I heard no trumpets from that direction. I cast about myself, frantic. We had to skin out of here like last week.

  Leaving the site of his battle, Rygel and Shardon galloped toward Arianne and her furry, four-legged guards. Seeing him come, the wolves melted out of his path. They didn’t slink in fear, nor cower from his approach. They recognized him for what he was: the man who rode to free her of danger.

  At a heavy, fast gallop, Rygel slid across Shardon’s saddle to his left. Shardon kept his strong, steady pace, aiming for Arianne as she stood silent, waiting for them. His right foot rested on Shardon’s silver rump, his right fist gripped the pommel of Shardon’s saddle. His left foot held his entire weight in its stirrup, for balance. How in the blazes he stayed on, I’ll never know. Leaning far, far toward his left, only his hand on his pommel prevented a tumble head-first into the grass and dirt. His left arm swept wide—and Arianne straight into it.

  She was so tiny, so light, he lifted her with his arm about her tiny waist. So small, I bet she was nothing but a spring lamb in his grip. In a move so smooth I almost didn’t follow it, Rygel straightened, Arianne safely on Shardon’s saddle before him. Her midnight hair cloaked him, wrapped him in her living black veil. Shardon wheeled again, rearing sharply, his passengers safe and solid on his broad back.

  “Raine!” Rygel screamed.

  Raine and I both wheeled.

  More cavalry, banners floating on the breeze, galloped along the ridge to the north. They paused, sending fresh men to see to their wounded fellows. Under the shouted orders of their commander, the remainder reformed lines into classic cavalry attack formation. Horns blasted, horses neighed, bared swords glinted under the summer sun.

  Trumpets from the south rang upon the air. I looked to my right, Raine also turning to witness this new threat. Cresting the hills, banners, plumed helmets and cavalry horses appeared against the blue sky. A full cohort, a thousand men and horses, gathered along the ridgeline. They, too, paused to take in the devastation, the loss at our hands. Only too well did they realize how many of their brothers we slew with fire, with dragons, with wolves, with a lone griffin. I didn’t have to hear them to know they now craved hot vengeance.

  More horns blew, sounding the charge.

  If we didn’t get out of here, they’d grind us all into dogmeat. We would die here: wolves, Tarbane, us four humans and even Bar would feed their vengeance. None of us stood a chance. Despite Brutal’s need for us alive, he wasn’t in the vicinity to direct operations. Those men on the hills knew it. Sorry, Your Majesty, we tried to capture them alive, as you commanded, but, you know, in battle bad things have a way of happening.

  They steadily advanced, cantering swiftly downhill toward each other, from the north and south, breaching the distance. In another few minutes, we couldn’t hope to escape through their lines toward the west, toward Kel’Halla.

  Shardon half-reared, shaking his head. Rygel, Arianne on his lap, pointed uselessly toward the new threat. Yes, dammit, we saw them. With military precision, the wolves separated, dividing into lines of defense between us and the north and south bound troopers, intending to meet in the middle. The spot where Raine and I now stood, helpless.

  Beyond him, Tashira increased his pace and shot, like a bolt of black lightning, toward Raine. His mane and tail flew above him like banners, his pounding hooves a blur in the green grass. A short few rods from Raine he slowed, allowing Raine to grasp his thick mane. Raine vaulted aboard his bare back, then both Raine and Tashira lunged, uphill, toward me.

  I slapped Bar on his shoulder. “Fly,” I commanded. “Get up there and stay, don’t let them shoot you down.”

  Contrary to his catlike predilection for ignoring orders, he obeyed instantly. His enormous wings flung dust, dead grass and fallen leaves about me in a tight whirlwind. His second wingbeat had him a rod above my head, his third set him to circling to gain altitude. I shaded my eyes from the grit, watching him fly higher, his long lion legs and tail streaming behind him. He screeched, his downturned beak and eyes concerned. I flapped my hand, then faced the oncoming Tarbane and his Wolf rider. They had but a few rods to go.

  Reaching me, Tashira spun sharply, his hooves digging deep furrows in the soil and grass. In such a tight turn around me, his body hugged the ground. I could look into his deep brown eye on a level with mine. His huge front hooves threatened to step on his own thick mane that streamed in long lengths across the grass. Raine reached down an arm.

  I reached up my own.

  His turn so tight, Tashira’s legs all but fell out from under him. More of his heavy mane blew into Raine’s face. With his powerful legs churning under him, his back was so low I could have flung myself onto it without Raine’s assisting arm. As it was, between Tashira’s momentum and Raine’s strong lift on my arm, I settled neatly onto the Tarbane’s broad back, behind Raine, as easily as I mounted Mikk’s saddle.

  Once I was safely aboard, Tashira began to run. Shardon matched him gallop for gallop, pacing us. The high wind in my face blurred my vision with tears. Here, I was sheltered behind Raine’s huge back. Was he also so blinded by the wind? Somehow, I suspected he was immune to such.

  I blinked the tears away, and peeked around Raine’s ribs. With his hands twisted into Tashira’s thick, blowing mane, his arms were up high enough I could peer around him. The gap between the galloping cavalry troops had closed. Only a matter of fifty rods or so separated them. The wolves vanished into the nearby hills. Where’d they go? I suspected that seeing we could escape without their aid, they chose to withdraw rather than engage enemy troops without purpose.

  Like fire from heaven, we four aboard maned daemons blasted past the galloping cavalry. Past their startled faces, past their raised bows, past their rearing horses we ran. Beside us, against my direct orders, winging faster than the wind, Bar paced us. I rested my cheek against Raine’s huge back, my hands on his hips, no long
er willing to wipe tears from my eyes in order to see. I blinked, once, then twice.

  Bar beat steadily beside me, his wings keeping pace with the Tarbane.

  He kept pace.

  No horse could ever outrun him. Always, he swooped past our horses, even as we rode at a dead gallop, the fastest our horses could manage, and circled back around so they didn’t fall too far behind. He could never fly slow enough to pace a galloping horse, his huge wings wouldn’t allow it. I watched him now, all but a rod from him, at level with my eyes. His neck outstretched, his ears flat, his expression still, intent. He fought now to keep up with the Tarbane.

  I glanced beyond him. The sight of the hills and trees flying past at a dizzying speed made my belly roil. How fast did we run, even now? I’d no idea. I wasn’t even certain I wanted to know.

  I risked a lightning glance behind.

  No troopers or their arrows or bolts lay in sight. In a matter of seconds, we left them so far behind they had no hope of ever catching us. Only arrow in flight could ever overtake a Tarbane, I’d always been taught. Now I found the notion silly. The soldiers hadn’t had time to fire any arrows before we passed them and were gone.

  Rygel cursed roundly.

  Raine and I both turned our heads toward him. Arianne settled so smoothly into his arms she might have been in a chair. She could no longer hide in her tresses, for they streamed backward along Shardon’s side, blowing as heavy and thick as Shardon’s own mane. Rygel sat as easily as one born to ride a Tarbane, buried between silver and midnight banners of living, raging locks of sweeping hair.

  “I should never have saved that bastard’s life,” he gritted.

  I couldn’t exchange confused glances with Raine, so instead I exchanged them with Arianne.

  Raine spoke for all three of us. “What are you talking about?”

  Turning his head meant his wheaten hair blew across his face, so Rygel swept it all behind his head with his restless hand. “Brutal’s. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but never seemed to get the chance.”

  The shock I felt was nothing to the stiffening of Raine’s immense torso. Arianne looked up at her lover, holding her own midnight hair from her face with both hands.

  “You…saved his life?” Raine asked slowly.

  Rygel nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “What were you thinking?” I snapped.

  “I wasn’t,” Rygel admitted glumly. “I reacted on pure gut instinct.”

  He tossed his wheaten locks from his eyes as he turned his head to face us fully. With Shardon in full control, he had no need to guide, or watch the terrain for hazards. He had but to relax, hold his love in his arms and enjoy the ride. “’Twas when I first came to the Federation,” he said. “I hadn’t yet fallen into his power and thought him unjustly maligned and misunderstood. I liked him.”

  I felt surprise at how easy ’twas to communicate, despite our great speed. Our voices carried across the intervening space between the galloping Tarbane as easily as though we stood around a campfire conversing. The wind generated by the great speed of Tashira and Shardon might not have existed.

  “Methinks you were a bit naïve,” Shardon commented.

  “That I was,” Rygel admitted. “I believed in his goodness, his wish for peace, all that bloody rot. An assassin lunged in, so fast Brutal’s bodyguards never saw him move much less try to stop him. In panic, I blasted him with my power. He was dead before he hit the wall behind him.”

  Rygel fell silent, his eyes facing front and anguished. Arianne reached up a hand to caress his cheek.

  “Thus you saved him and condemned yourself,” Raine said quietly.

  Rygel nodded. “Shortly after that, the woman I loved—”

  “—then,” he added after a quick glance at an outraged Arianne in his lap. “She fed me tiny bits of tros until I was crazy and addicted and madly in love. She dumped me, leaving me in Brutal’s loving grasp and my heart shattered almost beyond repair.”

  He grinned, a self-loathing, hate-filled baring of his teeth. “The rest, they say, is history. I did his dirty work, tortured innocent folk and condemned my very soul to hell.”

  “It’s not condemned,” I said.

  He shot me a lightning glance before facing between Shardon’s ears once more. I smiled. “It’s quite safe. You purchased it back.”

  Arianne smiled. She lay back in Rygel’s arms, gazing up at him with sweet adoration in her magnificent grey-blue eyes. She spoke simply. “Bought and paid for.”

  “But—” he began.

  “Shut up,” Raine commanded sternly.

  “Had I just let him die—”

  “Then that would jeopardize your soul,” Raine said sternly. “Not acting according to your conscience.”

  “What’s done is done,” Shardon said. “No use chewing bad grass. If you weren’t a good man, I’d never have agreed to this pact we have. I’d choose death rather than submit to you, even for a paltry three years.”

  “Listen to him,” Tashira added. “He’s a rather snobbish fellow. He only keeps company with the best. He fancies the high-handed, snobbish folk like himself.”

  “That’s why I never kept company with you.”

  “Now ask me if I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  “Hell, no.”

  A choked laugh erupted from Rygel, unwilling but welcome. His smile of relief grew into a grin filled with wicked humor. “What of you, Princess? Do you still like me?”

  I waved an indifferent hand. “Of course not. I never liked you to begin with.”

  His laugh became genuine. “But you love me, though, don’t you?”

  I grinned. “Of course I do.”

  His smile lifted my heart. Vindicated? Perhaps. Forgiven? Certainly. His recent activities earned himself a few points with those who kept score, I felt sure. Perhaps he had evened his odds, with plenty of time to spare.

  “He’ll get what he deserves,” Raine said quietly. “Someday, Brutal will die screaming.”

  “Is that prophecy?” Rygel asked with a sidelong glance.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. Might just be wishful thinking.”

  “He has the devil’s own luck,” I muttered.

  “Not anymore,” Raine said, his hand caressing mine over his broad waist. “His luck has just run out.”

  Rygel chuckled, shaking his head. “Braud, you are a walking, talking, natural disaster. How in the name of hell did you manage to take down so many all alone?”

  Raine shrugged. “You know how Brutal irritates me,” he rumbled.

  “Tashira, you might want to reconsider irritating Raine,” Shardon said.

  “When have I ever irritated him?” Tashira replied, indignant.

  “It’s only a matter of time. You irritate everyone.”

  Raine’s chuckle vibrated my face as it lay contentedly against his huge back. New thoughts interrupted the light banter. Now that we were safe from Brutal and his army, a new fear cropped up.

  “What of Kel’Ratan and the others?” I asked Rygel, biting my thumbnail. “Could Brutal’s men have killed them after you left?”

  “They’re fine, Princess,” he replied. “I set a shield about them before I left and the wolves were busy scattering the troops. We’ll be back with them within a short time. Ja’Teel transported you almost sixteen leagues.”

  “Sixteen?” Raine asked, surprised.

  Rygel nodded. “If we hadn’t had the wolves, there’s no way we’d find you. Not in time, anyway.”

  That silenced Raine. He turned his face forward, thus I couldn’t see it. I still felt his fear, coursing off of him in waves that set my own belly to trembling with worry.

  “But,” I began, confused. “How could you understand them? Arianne,” I glanced her way, “obviously understands them, but she was sixteen leagues away, with us.”

  “I speak fluent wolf,” Tashira said.

  “I speak it too,” Shardon said
. “But not as well.”

  “Um,” I said, more confused than ever.

  “Father always said it was smart to learn more than one language,” Tashira added. “I’m fluent in several.” His voice dropped into a mournful note. “I don’t speak griffin, though.”

  Bar screeched, his amused eye on us.

  “What’d he say?”

  “He said it’s a difficult language to learn.”

  Tashira sighed. “I suppose it is, at that. He doesn’t have a mouth, he has a beak.”

  “Um,” I began diffidently, unsure of my footing here. “Don’t the wolves, um, you know, try to eat you?”

  Tashira snorted. “Oh, please. Wolves are much too civilized to eat their neighbors.”

  “And those predators that do try, well,” Shardon said, his voice low and dangerous. “They don’t try again.”

  “Lions used to try,” Tashira said. “We drove them out. No lion has tried it for a very long time.”

  “So what do the wolves eat?”

  “Deer, rabbits, the wild pigs,” Shardon said.

  “Don’t forget the wild cattle,” Tashira added.

  “There’s a species of wild cows that roam quite far and wide,” Shardon said. “They’re nocturnal, so you don’t see them much.”

  “The wolves find Khalid’s livestock rather delectable,” Tashira said with an airy toss of his ears. I laughed.

  “They’re quite fond of those big lizards—what are they called?”

  “Y’bex,” Tashira answered.

  “All that doesn’t explain how the wolves knew where to find us,” Raine said, his voice hollow. “Did the wolves tell you, Tashira?”

  “Um, actually, no.”

  “I heard a voice in my head,” Rygel went on slowly, frowning. “Creepiest thing ever.”

  “A voice?”

  Why did Raine’s innocent enough question sound tense, even afraid? Arianne perked up, her eyes concerned and narrowed as they studied her bigger brother.