I rested my head on my paws, thinking not on duty or destiny or death, but on the simple things I liked: making a sword sing as I spun it in my fist. The taste of a rare beef, its juices hot on my tongue. I loved the scent of summer flowers drifting on the light breeze tickling my nostrils, making me sneeze. Basking under the spring sun after the cold grip of winter has fled. Oh, the sight of beautiful, half-naked girls giggling and prancing as they went about their daily chores in the town made me sigh.
Remembering that sight made me realize: I’d die a virgin.
If only Corwyn hadn’t been such a strict master in that regard, I might know the pleasures women can bring. That thought, of course, raised the sight of Ly’Tana within my mind’s vision. She was beautiful, seductive in her innocent way, the diamond in her navel flashing in the sun, her smile, her emerald eyes, her half-naked almond body in those revealing leathers atop her big buckskin stallion.
Gods above and below, I thought, that’s the last thing I need. To think of Ly’Tana right now, and crave the things I will never experience.
I always thought I’d die in the arena. That one day I would meet an opponent who was stronger, better and meaner than I. Not in the cold, frozen north atop the world at the claws and teeth of a monster. That was, if the dragons didn’t turn me into a small, insignificant pile of ash first. How does one kill a monster? I know how to kill men, I thought. Men very much like myself, men with hands and swords and thin skin that bled easily. To date, I hadn’t killed a monster.
I pondered my armament. I had a good sword, I had very sharp fangs, although I couldn’t use them at the same time. I also had, thanks to Rygel, magic. Darius said it had ape-like hands, useless wings and was stupid. Perhaps I could outsmart it somehow.
That worry, at least, I could set aside for the future. Raising my head, I watched the stars on their slow courses across the heavens. Were my real parents up there, Camlach and Raia, looking down, watching me? What would they think of their son now? As I, their eldest son, was born a werewolf, a gai’tan, the hope and salvation not of men, but of wolves. Were they ashamed of me?
I’d never find out. If there was indeed an afterlife, my soul would join the wolves, not the humans. Lying my head on my paws once more I wished, with a fierce ache in my chest, that this task had never come to me.
A wolf entered the perimeter of the trees, about thirty rods from the boulder. I knew he hesitated before entering the clearing. I also knew immediately who it was.
“Chosen One,” Silverruff said, his ears and tail lowered in respect. “May I approach?”
“Only if you drop the ‘Chosen One’ crap,” I growled. “I have a name.”
He grinned and trotted closer. “That’s not very wolfish.”
“Don’t make me hurt you.”
He disregarded my threat and loped onto the boulder, his tail waving back and forth. Like Tor, he seemed to recognize my moods and judge, quickly, whether they were dangerous or not.
“You’re not like I thought you’d be,” he commented, lying down. “I certainly didn’t expect you to be friendly, approachable, humorous, charismatic and, of course, comfortable to be with.”
I eyed him sidelong. “What’d you think I’d be like?”
“Cold,” he replied, biting his flank to ease an itch. “Bitter. Heartless. That slavery would have brought out the worst in you. Not the best.”
What could I say to that? I turned my head away, resting my muzzle on my paws. “It made me cold and bitter.”
“Not true. My father said that when you were young you had the makings of a natural leader. Your misfortune, while bad enough, is our salvation. And your own. It made you stronger, tougher, honed the skills you were born with. It turned you into a true leader of the pack.”
“You’re delusional.”
He laughed. “You wish.”
“If I ignore you, will you go away?”
“Not a chance.”
I sighed.
“You need a wolf name,” he said.
“Oh, please.” I adjusted my head on my paws more comfortably and shut my eyes.
I heard the lupine grin in his tone. “Big Dog.”
Part of me wanted to laugh, the other part wanted to take him by his scruff and shake him for insulting me. No wolf liked being compared to a dog, a mongrel. That he dared do so raised the hackles on my neck.
The human part of me also realized the name was true enough: I was indeed a big dog, the leader of the pack, in many respects, and in truth, a mongrel. I was neither fully wolf nor fully man. I was, in that terrible word, a mutt.
Big Dog. How ironic. My sense of humor took control of my irritation.
I didn’t let that show however. I growled low in my chest instead. Silverruff didn’t back down. His laughter rang in my ears.
“Big Dog,” he repeated. “Your wolf name. It’s perfect.”
“Just don’t tell Darius,” I said, finally giving up the pretense of anger and laughed.
“He’ll know someday,” Silverruff said.
“I have so many names,” I said, rolling half onto my back, “My parents called me Raine, the Khalidians called me Wolf, the wolves call me Big Dog. I swear I’m going to have an identity crisis.”
“The wolves call you hope.”
I sobered. Rolling back onto my belly, my forelegs folded, I gazed at him. His silver ruff all but glowed bright under the light of the moon. “I may fail.”
“You won’t,” Silverruff said confidently.
“Even if I succeed,” I said. “I will die.”
“Then I’ll die at your side.”
I looked away, up at the stars gleaming bright from the heavens. The souls of the dead lived beyond them, in the afterlife, walking amidst their gods. If Darius weren’t in prison, he’d be up there, judging the souls who came to him. Amongst the wolves who had gone before.
“You won’t,” I said quietly. “You’ll go home to your mate.”
“I’ve none,” he said.
I glanced at him, askance.
“She was like your mate,” he said, his eyes also on the stars above. “Like your mate, she was fierce and proud. She was afraid of nothing and no one. But unlike your beautiful lady, she was headstrong. Stupid sometimes.”
“What happened?”
“She returned once too many times to the farmer she liked to steal from,” Silverruff answered. “He was smarter than she. He shot and killed her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She was a fearless wolf,” he said quietly. “But she wasn’t a good mate. She heeded me not and did what she would.”
“Did you have pups? A family?”
“No, we had no whelps to raise. After her death, single, I wandered and hunted alone. Until you freed yourself from the human slavery. Then I joined my father in his search for you.”
I stared at the stars. “He wants you to find a new mate. You should.”
Silverruff lay silent for a time. “I’ll follow you, even into hell.”
“I know,” I replied. “I go alone.”
“Is this your command?”
“It is.”
He lay silent, and I could not read his thoughts. Rather than try, I pondered what was left of my life. I have five months to live, I thought. Time enough to prepare myself for death. Time enough to make my peace.
Irony turned my morose thoughts into some semblance of humor: my god owed me one. How many people could claim that? I doubted Darius would judge me harshly for all the killing I’ve done and condemn me to the very hell I died to spring him from.
We should be at peace with one another. Funny, I realized I would be seeing him soon. He wouldn’t just be a name, a voice in my head. If I succeeded in freeing him and lived, I’d meet him face to face. If I freed him and in so doing met my end, I’d still face him as a bared soul.
For I knew I would kill the Guardian and free him, before I died.
I glanced up at the stars. Perhaps, when I am dead, I’ll join t
hem and become a tiny star, forever following my path through heaven.
“You will be more than that. Far more.”
“Whether I live or die,” I said slowly. “The wolves will go on. As must you.”
“If you fail,” Silverruff said softly. “The wolves will be eradicated from this earth.”
“What do you mean?
Like me, he gazed up at the shining lights. “While our god is imprisoned, the wolf soul is reborn again and again. If he is not freed, those souls will finally give up hope and pop out of existence. Soon after, there will be fewer and fewer whelps born. The day will come when the old ones die and no young to take their place. Our species will eventually die out. The wolves will walk the earth no more.”
Great, I thought, laying my head on my paws. If I fail, the wolf as a species will die. No pressure.
“You will not fail.”
“But I’ll die.”
Darius, at least, had the grace to stay silent.
The wolves will walk the earth no more.
I thought, you stupid bastard.
* * *
Amused, I watched the camp wake up.
The sun broke over the horizon, the surrounding trees unable to staunch its incredible power. Light glimmered and dripped off the gently moving leaves, reflecting light that was both beautiful and savage. The dawn was beautiful to my eyes, but potentially savage on those who had enjoyed too freely the wine of the previous night.
I sat next to the fire, feeding it small sticks. Silverruff lay beside me, his brown eyes languid and sleepy as he watched the flickering flames. On my other side, Ly’Tana suddenly stirred and stretched, her mouth opening in a wide yawn. Silverruff lifted his head from his paws to watch with me as she sighed and rolled over.
She blinked. Tiny twigs and dead leaves clung to her silken red-gold hair as she sat up.
“Morning,” I said.
She glanced blearily around. “If you say so,” she replied, trying to smother another huge yawn.
She was just too damn beautiful to resist. I leaned over and kissed her.
“Ugh,” she spat, pushing me away. “I have morning breath. Don’t do that.” She scrubbed the back of her hand across her mouth.
“Your morning breath is like the sweet scented petals of fresh flowers,” I said, kissing the tip of her nose.
Her green eyes glinted. “Just what were you drinking last night?”
“Only your beauty, my dearest love.”
“Uh, huh.”
She rose to her feet, dusting off her leathers. With her fingers, she combed out some of the leaves from her hair, all the while watching me carefully. Still eyeing me, she bent, fumbled for her sword belt and buckled it across her lean hips. Her griffin hilt lay at her bare belly, within quick reach of her right hand. The diamond in her navel winked at me, catching the light of the new sun and my breath at the same time.
Her eyes fell on Silverruff. “Keep an eye on him, will you, while I’m gone? Maybe he got into some nettles or something.”
She walked away, her arms over her head in a languid stretch. I heard the sharp intake of her breath as she yawned. The sway of her hips under that skimpy leather skirt kept my eyes riveted….
Silverruff grinned as she strode away into the forest, still yawning. “Pity she’s a human,” he commented. “She’d make an awesome she-wolf.”
I jerked my eyes away from where she disappeared.
“Well,” I said, ruffling his ears. “You can have a go after I’m dead. Just remember what happened when Darius tried that.”
He rolled onto his side, laughing, fending off my hands with his paws. “When you return alive, I’m going to spend my life reminding you of how stupid you are.”
“You can try,” I replied.
Kel’Ratan scowled, holding his head. “Someone shut off that blasted light.”
“Oh, I promise you, I’ll laugh my ass off.”
“Vermin.”
“Brainless hulk,” Silverruff answered, his voice rising.
“Mangy cur.” Mine rose almost to a shout.
Silverruff all but howled. “Insufferable human—”
“Will you two cease and desist!” Witraz yelled, holding his hands over his suddenly sensitive ears. “You’re killing me.”
Also awakened and holding his own aching head, Alun sat up and smacked Witraz upside his ear.
“M’lord,” Witraz amended, scowling at Alun.
“That was fun,” I commented.
“Humans are so very entertaining,” Silverruff replied, grinning.
“Is this a hangover?” asked Little Bull, lying on his side and panting. “My head aches fit to split.”
“That it is,” answered Rygel, tossing off his blanket and sitting up. He swayed from side to side. Closing his eyes, he grimaced in pain, holding his head in his arms.
Blearily, Arianne sat up, blinking owlishly in the light. Like Ly’Tana, she stretched languidly, her thin blanket sliding off her thin chest to pool in her lap. As she hadn’t imbibed at all, she felt no pain and glanced about the rousing camp with sleepy curiosity.
Tuatha also woke, his jaws widening and his tiny pink tongue running through his needle teeth in a huge puppy yawn. “Papa?” he asked, his sapphire eyes blinking.
I picked him up. “Sleep well?”
For answer, I received another huge yawn. “I go wee,” he said.
I put him down onto his stubby legs. “Go over there, then.”
He waddled well away from the camp and squatted.
Ly’Tana, returning from her own session in the forest, scooped him up as she walked cheerfully back toward me. He licked her chin, earning a giggle and an ear rub for himself.
Darkhan woke, his tongue running through his sharp fangs in a huge yawn. Arianne seized him about the neck, hugging him tight as he grinned. Rygel scowled.
He leaned toward Darkhan, his eyes, more red than amber, snapped in anger and jealousy. He jerked his hand back and forth between them. “You and me,” he gritted, “we’re gonna have words.”
Darkhan rolled onto his side, half his weight in Arianne’s lap, her arms secure about his huge ruff. “Bring it on, brother.”
Arianne, the object of the jealous war between wolf and wizard, merely giggled.
“I can see trouble from here,” said the rangy wolf, Shadow, his own brown eyes running with tears and the after-the-party problems. Ly’Tana dropped Tuatha in my lap before seating herself beside me. He landed with a plump grunt and licked his nose. “I’m hungry.”
“You’ll have to wait,” I said, settling him comfortably in my crossed legs.
“Papa—” he began, but I growled low in my throat.
Tuatha subsided, his belly rumbling. Silverruff, still laughing, eyed me sidelong. “Are humans usually this temperamental?”
“Only after a wild party,” I said comfortably, throwing my right arm over his neck. “You’ll learn to love us.”
“Love humans?” he replied, affronted. “Love those two-legged, hairless, scrawny creatures without honor or purpose? I don’t think so.”
Laughing, I pulled him toward me, my left hand affectionately rubbing his head and ears. “You will, trust me.”
He snarled, pulling away in annoyance. “Leave off, Big Dog.”
“Big Dog?” Darkhan asked, his ears high, his eyes bright. “How appropriate.”
“I like it,” said Joker, rolling once more onto his back, all four paws in the air. “I follow the Big Dog.”
“See what you started?” I snapped at Silverruff.
“What did he start?” Ly’Tana asked, glancing from him to me.
“Their wolf name for me,” I grumbled. “Big Dog.”
I expected sympathy? Ly’Tana grinned down at me, her hands on her hips. “Big Dog. Of course you are.”
Arianne giggled, Rygel chuckled, and Kel’Ratan’s mustache at last bristled. “That you are, m’lord. I run with the Big Dog.”
“Who is?” asked Tor, wak
ing and sitting up from his place well beyond the fire.
His tutors, Yuri and Yuras, snored to either side of him. Between yawns, Tor scratched his armpit. “Wake up,” he said. “Dolts.”
“He is,” replied Kel’Ratan, jerking his head in my direction.
“Big Dog?” Tor offered a half bow in my direction as he nudged Yuri with his toe. Yuri snorted in his sleep and rolled over, away from Tor’s offending foot. “You’re Prince Wolf to me.”
Tor kicked Yuri harder. “Get up, fool. The sun is shining and it’s time to ride.”
Yuri threw his arm over his face. “Leave me be.”
“Buckethead,” Tor said amiably, kicking Yuri once more. “Get up.”
“Touch me and die,” Yuri grumbled.
Tor grinned and kicked him again. “Get up and say that.”
Snarling, Yuri lunged to his feet, snatching his sword hilt. Tor proved quicker. Rolling to his feet with lightning speed, he grabbed his plain wooden blade. Yuri, his arms raised over his head, sword in hand, received a resounding blow to his gut. Coughing, he fell to his knees, his steel blade falling helplessly to the ground.
“Bravo!” Ly’Tana cried, clapping her hands. “Well done, lad. Well done.”
Grinning, Tor bowed low, arms wide in a showman’s bow. Yuri fell headfirst into the dirt, coughing, groaning, trying to hold both his aching head and his pained gut at the same time.
I laughed. The boy certainly had grown a great deal in the last few weeks. Yuras sat up, scooting carefully away from Tor, and assisted his groaning older brother.
Corwyn also rose from his blanket. Obviously, he had heard the discussion of my new name and felt forced to add his comments.
“It’s you,” he said simply, standing up and shaking the dirt from his blanket before rolling it up.
“Thank you very much,” I replied acidly.
Tashira also felt it necessary to voice his thoughts on the subject. “I like wolves, but I don’t care much for dogs,” he said. “Low, whining creatures, if you ask me.”
“No one asked you,” Shardon said. “And either way, he still has some very big teeth.”
“I like the boy’s word: shut up, buckethead.”
Catch a Wolf Page 56
