“Slimebucket,” she replied, as though hearing my thoughts.
A laugh rose to widen my jaws.
“Better now?” she asked, her hands teasing my eye sockets.
Rather than answer, I nuzzled her neck. Gasping, she flinched, pushing my face from her, laughing and hiccupping in relief.
“Stop that,” she cried. “Your nose is cold.”
Of its own accord, my tail wagged. I didn’t order it to, it did it all on its own. I tried to stop it, but it refused to obey me. The pine tree I had backed into, for protection, lashed back and forth with every sweep.
I backed a step or two away from her and looked around, past my own shoulder. My tail looked the size of a tree trunk.
Crikey, I thought, checking out the rest of me.
If my human body was big, my wolf body eclipsed that as easily as a palace might drown a barn. My silky fur, a deep inky black color, gleamed by the light of the fire and the stars.
Gazing back at Ly’Tana, I suddenly realized I gazed down on her. Ly’Tana stood on her feet and yet laughed upward into my face.
I gulped, hearing my throat click. No wolf ever born should be this big, I thought uneasily. Gods above and below….
“About bloody time.”
The voice in my head, absent for the past several, crazy days, returned with the familiarity of an old friend.
Seeing his beloved mistress laughing and clearly unharmed by me, Bar at last relaxed and sat down, his wings furled against his back. Kel’Ratan also quieted, and finally sheathed the sword in his hand. One by one, his warriors followed suit. They sat down on bedrolls amid the huge wolves who parted jaws in lupine grins and wagged their tails. The wolves permitted Left and Right to rise. Dusting themselves off, twin scowls met wolfish grins, yet they sheathed their swords and put their hands on their hips in unison.
“Chill,” Tashira snapped, his ear unfurled from his mane. “As long as he’s all right, I’m good.”
The wolves barring him from me melted away, laughing, tails aloft. The huge, dark wolf beside Arianne kissed her cheek, his long tail fanning the air. Another big wolf, the one who escorted Tashira in with laughing eyes, still laughed.
Most of the wolves sat down, a few comfortable enough with the situation to actually lie down. Now the drama was over, the small horse herd resumed the important activity of grazing. Ly’Tana’s buckskin, seeing her quiet and unharmed, swished his tail and shook his thick neck. The camp finally returned to normalcy, such as it was.
Shardon bent his head close to Tashira’s, both sets of liquid Tarbane eyes on me.
“You know,” Shardon said softly, but I heard him as clearly as though he spoke in my ear. “He makes for a very big wolf. Big enough to eat you.”
“Shut up,” Tashira snapped. “He’s a very handsome wolf, don’t you think? He looks very well-bred and beautifully proportioned.”
“Now you have two reasons not to irritate him.”
“Go away before I kick you.”
I ventured forward, freeing my tail from the tangled pine tree. I needed a moment to adjust: four legs versus the two I used until moments ago. Staggering a bit, I regained my balance with the use of that ungainly heavy tail. Another use outside of expressing my happiness.
Ly’Tana walked with me, her hand on my shoulder. When I sat down, she collapsed, cross-legged, onto bare ground between my front paws. As if she belonged there.
Only Arianne, my wolf son in her arms, and Rygel still stood. As my gaze crossed him, Rygel paled. His tongue emerged to lick his lips nervously, his long slender hands clasped behind him. Suddenly, he knelt, his head bowed.
“My prince—” he began.
I wasn’t sure if he’d understand me if I spoke, so I didn’t try. Rather, I asked my tail to wag and it did. My own thick tongue lolled out from behind fangs that felt very large, even to me, in a wolf grin.
He received my message. Smiling in relief, he rose and backed away, leaving Arianne under my scrutiny.
She smiled, tentative. “Raine—”
“Not to worry,” I said, in wolf language.
Her smile brought the sun into the camp in the middle of the night. In her arms, the pup wailed and struggled, trying his best to get out of her arms.
“Papa!” he screamed. “Papa!”
She sat down, next to Rygel, who helped quiet my fat son.
The elderly grey wolf limped forward, closing the distance, his escort flanking him. Looking down and around, Bar courteously stepped aside, allowing the old one room. He resumed his seated position, his lion tail flicking comfortably back and forth. Obviously, he had no issue with his mistress seated between the paws of the world’s largest wolf. Perhaps because he was still bigger than me, I thought with no small amusement.
“Greetings, Chosen One,” the old wolf said. “Forgive me for not offering proper respect and deference. But these old bones don’t grovel as well as they used to.”
His choice of words and his bright eyes warmed me with his humor and love.
“Whatever I may need, old one,” I answered. “It’s certainly not that.”
“I am Tuatha called Elder,” he said. His muzzle indicated the silver-grey wolf standing nearby. “This is my son, Silverruff.”
“Greetings, Chosen One,” Silverruff said, his head lowered in respect, yet his eyes danced with the same light of love. “I will grovel, however.”
I sighed. “I’m not much comfortable with this Chosen One role.” I looked down at myself. “I’m not yet comfortable as a wolf, for that matter. So, please, no groveling.”
Silverruff’s tongue lolled in a lupine laugh. I guessed his sense of humor was as highly defined as Ly’Tana’s.
“All of these wolves deserve introductions and the opportunity to offer their greetings and respect,” Elder said, glancing about the quiescent wolves. “But, unfortunately, there is much to be said, here, tonight.”
At the peaceful resolution to the battle, many wolves melted away into the darkness. Yet, they left behind more than a dozen big wolves who lounged at their ease, as though knowing they sat among friends and not human enemies. Bar lay down, his long lion tail curled about him, his eyes on the fire rather than on Ly’Tana. What his thoughts were, I’d never guess. The Tarbane brothers stepped closer in while many wolves cleared the way for their great hooves, grinning up into their faces.
“Chosen One, I apologize,” Elder continued. His muzzle indicated Rygel. “In your reluctance to merge your wolf with your man, you shut us out. You couldn’t hear us.”
I dropped my eyes to my paws. “I know. It’s not your fault.”
“Only by forcing you into your wolf form might you hear us. You must listen, Chosen One. Your blood brother isn’t to blame.”
I glanced at Rygel, observing his guilt, his shame. “I don’t blame him, Tuatha called Elder,” I answered.
“Will you hear us?”
“I will hear you.”
The struggle between sister and son proved too much. Elder’s ears, and my own, perked toward the distraction, the incessant crying and muttered frustrations of both Arianne and Rygel.
“Your son wishes to be with you, Chosen One,” Elder observed.
“Bring him here, Arianne,” I said. “Maybe he’ll settle down.”
Getting to her feet with an enormous baby in her arms proved a struggle. With Rygel’s helping hand, she managed to stand and carried the squirming pup to me. Ly’Tana scooted over, giving him room between my paws, beside her.
“Papa!” he cried, his little tail wagging furiously, his sapphire eyes wide and adoring as he gazed up. He tried to rear, to bring his face closer to mine, but his baby legs weren’t strong enough. He toppled sideways, into the dirt, his enthusiasm unfazed. “Papa!”
I bent my head down, very far down, his tiny, warm tongue licking my muzzle. My own tongue ventured out to caress his silky ears, to taste his baby fur, to breathe in his puppy scent and his sheer innocence.
My son.
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Only then did I realize the sacrifice the she-wolf made in bringing this precious baby to me. She staved off death itself, her injuries mortal, as she limped the long leagues to follow me. To lay this tiny, her own beloved, baby in my lap. Her love, the love she transferred to me, lived on in this tiny, fuzzy whelp who called me his father. And to think I never even knew her name.
“Hear me, Papa,” my son said, trying to dance on legs that refused to cooperate.
“I hear you,” I relied, nuzzling his throat.
“I love you, Papa.”
How could a wolf’s throat thicken with tears when a wolf could not weep?
“You must sit with Ly’Tana and be quiet,” I told him around that annoying bulge. “Elder must speak.”
“Mama,” he said happily, crawling, like a fat slug with fur, into her lap. His tail still buzzed, beating a tattoo against her leg.
Elder eyed him critically. “You’ve been feeding him too much.”
As one, our eyes turned to Arianne. She gulped, her magnificent eyes wide and beginning to tear. Her long locks sheltered her once more.
Elder sighed. “No harm done,” he said. “Just don’t overfeed him from now on. He’s a wolf, not a silly lapdog.”
Arianne nodded hastily.
“I’d beg a boon, Chosen One,” Elder said, lying down with a sigh.
“Of course, Elder,” I said. “Do you wish food? We have plenty to share.”
“No, no, my son,” he said. “Although, perhaps, some water?”
Rygel displayed his linguistic talents by immediately rising at the old wolf’s request. Taking the tankard I threw at him earlier, he filled it from a waterskin. Filling it to its brim with fresh, cold water, he knelt beside the grizzled head. Holding the tankard steady, he waited patiently as Elder drank his fill.
“Thank you,” Elder said, licking his lips, his ragged tail flicking back and forth.
Without answering, Rygel bowed low. He refilled the cup, and left it beside Elder, to drink from, as he needed it.
“Why are you surprised?” the voice inside asked. “He has your blood. Of course he can understand wolf.”
“Humans are useful creatures,” Elder observed, a humorous light in his eyes.
“I should get one,” Tashira remarked brightly.
“You have one, stupid.”
“Oh. Right.”
“The boon I’d ask is this,” Elder went on, his glance flicking toward the Tarbane brothers. “Wolves understand the human tongue. Yet, humans, unless exceptionally talented, cannot understand our language. To belay confusion among your human friends, I’d ask that your sister translate for us. They, as well as you, must know of what’s to come.”
“Arianne?” I asked.
Wiping her face with her hands, she shook her midnight tresses from her face. Rising with more dignity now the pup didn’t weigh her down, Arianne stepped forward. She looked around at the human faces turned up to her, most curious, many baffled by everything that occurred in the last hour. Even the wolves turned toward her with respect, many a tail fanning the air. Obviously, she was a favorite of them. Her dark guard with the golden eyes lay at her feet, resting his muzzle on his paws.
“Elder asked me to interpret for him,” she said by way of explanation.
“Elder being—” Kel’Ratan finished by gesturing toward the old wolf.
Arianne nodded, her midnight hair shaking all around her. She pushed some of the mass from her face, and took a deep breath. She didn’t like being the center of attention and it distressed her.
“You’re great,” I assured her.
Her smile bloomed forth. Taking courage from my words, she stood still awaiting Elder’s voice, ready to translate from wolf to human.
Elder struggled to his feet. “I’d lie closer to your fire,” he said. “These old bones of mine crave warmth, despite this mild summer evening.”
“Please,” I said. “Make yourself comfortable. If there is ought I may do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“You are a courteous wolf,” Elder sighed, sinking back down, close enough to the fire to sing his fur. “Darius has chosen well.
“Darius informed me of your aversion to uniting your wolf and human selves,” Elder went on, his eyes on the fire. “He asked me to come here and explain your task to you, Chosen One.”
Arianne’s voice murmured in the background, echoing everything he said. I tuned her out, feeling Ly’Tana’s arm around my leg as she turned her beautiful face to my sister, listening to the wolf’s words translated into the human language.
“Who is Darius?” I asked, baffled.
“You don’t know—” Silverruff asked, suddenly rising from his lying position.
“Easy, my son,” Elder said, soothing. “He is ignorant of his heritage. That’s why we’re here.”
“Darius is our Guiding Spirit,” the dark wolf at Arianne’s feet said, his muzzle rising from his paws. “He is, in your human words, our god.”
“That’s Darkhan,” Elder said by way of introduction. “He loves your sister with a devotion bordering on the fanatical.”
As she translated those words from wolf to human, Arianne’s voice trailed off. Unexpectedly drawn into the conversation, she halted, withdrawing into the shelter of her hair. Darkhan gazed up at her, much as my wolf son gazed up at me, with adoration and worship in his yellow eyes.
“Tell them,” Elder urged her.
Arianne, her voice faltering, said, “He loves me with a devotion bordering on the fanatical.”
Dropping to her knees, she hugged Darkhan around his heavy neck, her arms not even close to reaching all the way around. A memory flitted through my mind’s eye: a dark wolf with yellow eyes leading a gang of wolves to Arianne’s defense earlier that day. On the battlefield as I sought to protect Ly’Tana and Rygel flew across the sky frightening the Khalidian soldiers, she stood undefended and alone. Alone, that is, until Darkhan loped in.
Over her shoulder, Darkhan grinned at me, his tongue lolling. Rygel tried to conceal the jealousy his face expressed. But he failed and I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Elder’s and Darkhan’s words suddenly coalesced into comprehension inside my thick skull. Darius? The wolf god? Gods above and below, you can’t mean—
“You are—” I said to the voice inside my head.
“None other.”
“Oh, shit,” I groaned. “I’m in trouble.”
“You were in trouble from the day you were born.”
“Oh, shit,” I repeated, unable to grasp the fact that a spirit, the god of the wolves, spoke to me inside my mind.
“And you’ve been quite troublesome, too, by the way. I never expected that, although, perhaps I should have. Given your bloodline.”
I forced him out, that day in the grove of trees, when I panicked. As I had the wolves themselves, I shut out his voice, unwilling and unable to accept what he tried to tell me. Too fearful of accepting my wolf self, the horrid vision of my death hanging over me like an evil pall, I allowed my fears to rule me. When I’d never before feared anything or anyone.
I winced inwardly, cringing, at the memory. “Oh, crap—”
“Not to worry. I forgive you. You’ll find I’m a very forgiving fellow.”
“But—”
“Hush now. Listen to Elder. He came a long way to talk some sense into you. That’s certainly not going to be an easy task, either.”
“Long ago, eons ago,” Elder said after lapping a bit of water, “when the world was young, the gods walked the earth with their people. Humans and their gods laughed and sang under the trees. The Guardian Spirit of the bears lumbered amid his bears, teaching them how to find berries and grubs. The griffins’ goddess created a new species by melding the lion and the eagle, and taught her children to fly. The Earth Mother created for her dragons a splendid city in which to live. And Darius, the wolf god, hunted with his pack.”
Humans and their wolfish counterparts sat back to listen to
the tale. Witraz passed around a wineskin, everyone, including Kel’Ratan, drank deep from it. Even Tor managed a sip, despite Ly’Tana’s murderous glare from between my paws. He flinched when he caught her emerald scowl, and hastily passed the skin to Yuri, who drank deep. No few wolves eyed the skin with interest, from their places around the fire. Alun rose to toss a few more faggots in, the fire leaping high.
At Kel’Ratan’s amused gesture, Alun and Yuri squirted wine into the open mouths of interested wolves. We’d only a few cups among our baggage, and those few were filled and placed around where the wolves might drink. They lapped happily, earning laughs from the humans who imbibed along with them. It became a game to squirt wine for the huge wolves, who danced about, vying for strategic positions to catch the wine on the fly.
“Just what I need,” Darius sighed. “Drunken wolves.”
“Let them,” I said. “Maybe it’ll help the relationship along.”
“You are wise, my son. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”
“If there wasn’t, you wouldn’t have chosen me.”
“It’s not quite the way it works. Listen up.”
“Um,” Kel’Ratan said, lifting his hand for permission to speak.
The game players quieted, but no few hands, under cover, shot wine toward a wolf. Jaws opened to catch the liquid, while pretending to pay attention to Kel’Ratan and the conversation abounding about them. Elder turned his head politely, yet his eyes shifted toward the game.
“I hate to interrupt,” Kel’Ratan said, his voice quiet and hesitant, his right hand rising as though in school. “We must post a watch. Brutal and his pets are still out there.”
“I’ve already sent wolves out to ring this camp,” Elder replied, his grizzled head nodding toward Kel’Ratan in respect. Arianne smoothly translated his words into something my warriors understood. “Your human enemies can’t approach without us knowing.”
“Very good,” Kel’Ratan sighed, sitting back and hoarding the wineskin. He drank deep, squirting wine down his throat in sharp bursts.
No few, wolves and men, grumbled. Rannon fetched another skin from the packs and broke the seal.
Catch a Wolf Page 51
