Knowing he would be getting no answers, Wolf grumbled to himself and continued, moving even more slowly through the twists and turns. He stopped at one inlet that had been sealed with a barred door. They paused momentarily as another new hole in the roof was noticed, allowing a pinpoint of light. As their eyes adjusted, Wals thought it looked like a jail cell and felt sorry for anyone who would be locked in there and forgotten. Propped up next to the cell was a sword. He lifted it and was surprised by the sheer weight of it. This was no prop. This was a real steel sword. Even with the insufficient light he could tell the straight steel blade was tarnished, as was the elaborate grip that felt perfect for his hand.
“Oh crap!” Wals suddenly smacked himself in the forehead with his free hand. “I remember now. It was pirates! Pirates were coming to the Island! I’m such an idiot. How could I have forgotten that?”
Before Rose could question him, Wolf gave a low warning growl and tugged Wals forward. Dropping the sword back in its place, the trio continued their trek through the pitch black cave. Soon, they could see the darkness was easing a bit. They could feel they were approaching the end of the tunnels on the backside of the Island. Wolf’s keen ears suddenly picked up the sound of men talking long before the two humans were able to hear it. He pressed against the side of the cavern and cautiously peered out into the daylight. He could feel Wals pressing against him as he, too, tried to look around the corner of the exit.
There they could see a tall three-masted sailing ship tied up to one of the old fishing docks. Wals and Wolf both recognized the ship as the Columbia, the huge ship that had eventually joined the Mark Twain in carrying guests around Tom Sawyer’s Island. Now, as in the finale of the show Fantasmic!, the Columbia had been taken over by pirates. The crew that could be seen had their heads down and were working steadily on the ship. Some men had just gone up the gangplank after depositing a load of goods onto the dirt path near the pontoon bridge. From the looks of all the cargo both on the deck of the ship and already on the ground, it was obvious they were planning on staying for a long time.
In the moments he had stared at the fierce-looking pirates, Wals thought he had seen a blue tunic or two, the kind a Calvary man would be wearing as his uniform. Had some of the soldiers been pressed into service? What about the doctor? Become pirates or be killed? Was that the choice they were given? He could easily imagine Daniel Crain adapting to that kind of a lifestyle. And he could also imagine Crain coming after Rose again—this time with his cowardly back now covered by several sword-waving shipmates. His heart suddenly pounding, Wals flung himself back into the darkness of the cave.
Hearing all of the commotion but not knowing what was going on outside, Rose leaned past the stunned Wals to take a peek. “Raiders!” she gasped, before Wals could stop her or pull back out of sight.
The feminine voice carried in the still air and was heard by the men working closest to the cave. Glancing over in the direction of the sound, her blond hair shone like a beacon before she was pulled back from the opening. One of the pirates dropped the crate he was carrying to take up his sword. “Captain Lafitte! We’ve been seen! It’s a woman! I call her!” he yelled up to the man dressed in a tight-fitting, brocaded black jacket that reached the tops of his cuffed black boots.
When more crates and boxes were dropped and swords were drawn, Wals pulled on the wolf’s tail. “Come on, Wolf! We’ve got to get out of here!”
Not waiting to see or hear the response of the Captain, Wolf agreed and immediately turned, melting into the darkness. Wals grabbed onto his tail, and Rose held onto the back of Wals’ shirt.
They tried to make quicker time returning. Wolf felt the throbbing pain from his wounded leg. He knew the wound had reopened because he could feel the warmth of the blood oozing down his fur. When yells and shouts could be heard coming behind them, he ignored the pain and broke into a loping run. Nose down, he concentrated on the twists and turns that would lead them to safety.
The noise from the pirates was getting louder. Wals didn’t know how many men took up the chase. He didn’t even know if he or the wolf had been seen. The pirates might think they were just chasing a woman. He suddenly heard a loud bang that echoed through the corridors. Dirt from the wall in front of him suddenly exploded and flew into their faces. The pirates were getting closer and must have heard them to take a shot in the dark like that.
“Hurry, Wolf!”
The wolf took a series of turns that Wals didn’t remember on the way in. He guessed Wolf must be trying to confuse and lose their trackers. When they reached the newly-dug dungeon, Wals grabbed up the sword. You never know, he told himself, all the time hoping he would never need to try and use it to defend anyone. But, he knew they were otherwise unarmed. Even though the grip molded to his hand, it still felt awkward. As he shifted it to his right hand, he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t hurt himself with it.
The sounds of pursuit were getting less pronounced the farther they fled. Either the pirates were lost or they were starting to give up the chase. Wals thought it might be possible they weren’t that familiar with the caves yet. The three friends arrived at the newly-fenced Bottomless Pit. “Wolf, hold up,” Wals whispered, tugging on the wolf’s tail and getting a low, menacing growl in return. “Sorry, fella, but I have an idea. In my time,” he hurriedly explained to Wolf, “the Bottomless Pit was just a name to scare the kids. It might be different now. It might actually be a bottomless pit. I don’t know. But, the pirates fenced it off for some reason. If we break the fence, and have her scream, they might think she fell in.” He broke off, suddenly remembering that the wolf couldn’t understand him.
Rose was breathing hard from fear and from the fast pace they had been keeping. “I think that is a wonderful idea, Wals! I think some of them are still coming. Hurry and break the fence.”
Wals pulled off one of the rough boards. To his dismay, it barely made a creaking sound. He quickly broke it over his knee, producing a sharp, snapping break. He nodded to Rose who turned away from them and let out a piercing scream, letting it fade away as she pretended to fall deeper in the pit.
Wals grinned in the darkness. “That was pretty good.”
Wolf gave a short yip and started moving toward the entrance again. They could hear running feet coming from deeper in the caves. Grabbing the wolf’s tail again, Wals and Rose hurried after the silent black animal.
After they rounded a few more corners, they heard some of the pirates reaching the Pit. They seemed to be arguing with each other on whose fault it was that the woman got away. The one man who had claimed her for his prize was the loudest and angriest. Wals then could hear a familiar voice telling his companions that the blond-headed wench was a tricky one and they needed to go report to the Captain.
The rest of the on-going argument from the pirates became fainter and fainter as the trio reached the welcome entry to the cavern. Wals hoped the pirates took Daniel Crain’s suggestion and returned to the Columbia, but he inwardly felt their reprieve would be a short one.
Glad to be out of the darkness and in the sunlight, they hurried down the path to Rose’s cabin. Not having a scabbard and being in a hurry, Wals came close to badly cutting himself in his clumsy attempt to carry the sword next to him. He finally figured a way to work his fingers safely inside the curved, elaborate grip. It settled comfortably inside his palm—as if it had been made just for him.
Once they had reached the cabin and the door was barred for the moment, Wals took a moment to examine the weapon he had taken from the cave. Though not entirely clear to see in the semi-darkness of the log cabin, there was some elaborate etching toward the top of the tarnished blade near the cross-guard. As he gave the curlicues a cursory look, he almost dropped the sword. He saw the initials W. P. D. engraved within an elaborate circle of leaves. With a catch in his breath and a pounding heart, he examined the rest of the metalwork. The cross-guard itself had an intricate maze of scrollwork that curved around the hand while protecting it.
The hilt felt like twining cords of metal, twisting all the way from the cross-guard to the engraved pommel with indentations that fit his hand exactly. Not knowing anything about weaponry, he couldn’t begin to guess at the age of this sword. He just knew that it would have to be old—very old. Are those really my initials or just some other odd, confusing coincidence? That, combined with the gold coins and the gem-encrusted goblet he had seen in the sea chest, he wondered just what it was that they had stumbled across. He was silent for a long time as he stared at the length of tarnished metal.
“No more argument, Rose, we need to get you out of here and we need to do it now. The island is no longer safe for a woman living alone.” To add weight to his reasoning, he added, “Plus, they’ve seen you. We both know that was Private Crain we heard at the Bottomless Pit. He knows where your cabin is and I doubt he really believed you fell to your death.”
Rose looked around her little home. She was blinking back tears. “I don’t know where to go,” she whispered. “Can we go back to my castle? I…I miss my mother.” She turned a beseeching face to Wals.
“Your mother? Are you remembering something else?” Two pairs of eyes were now staring at her. Wolf, who had been standing guard at the door, turned his head to listen.
She stopped throwing clothes and worthless dishes into a worn-out carpetbag. “Well, while we were running, I started remembering the sight of my mother standing on the rampart of the beautiful stone walls of a castle with colorful pendants blowing in the breeze. There was a tall tower reaching up into the sky. And I saw the lovely moat out front. People were coming and going over the drawbridge. There were horses, too. Does that mean something?”
Wals sighed at the hopeful look on her face and took her into his arms for a quick, reassuring hug. “I don’t know,” he told her honestly. “It could. I’ll do my best to get you back there, Rose. I promise.” Momentarily closing his eyes, he wondered how in the world he would ever be able to keep that promise. He then looked past the wolf at the green water of the peaceful River, remembering the maelstrom that brought him so long ago. If that was what I think it was, and we ever get to see it again…please don’t let her go another direction in time!
The Island – 1817
Wolf knew he needed to take matters into his own hands—paws. Wals finally understood the impending danger to Rose and the necessity to get her off the Island, but he didn’t have any idea how to accomplish it. From the last cast member briefing they had attended, Wolf remembered that the Settler’s Cabin would be more or less left alone during the major changes made to Tom Sawyer’s Island. But, things were different here. If Wals was correct about some of the soldiers joining the pirates—especially if one of the soldiers was Daniel Crain—then Crain would probably still raid the cabin and that meant Rose would be in terrible danger.
Leaving the couple inside the log cabin to finish Rose’s packing, Wolf limped to the edge of the riverbed and raised his head. He gave a loud, lingering howl followed by a shorter one.
Hearing the call, Wals came out to investigate. Following the direction the wolf was looking, he could see something moving on the water and became instantly alert. Thinking only of the pirates and the impending danger, he was alarmed when he saw that a canoe was approaching their clearing. Not noticing the relaxed stance of the wolf, Wals was ready to race back to the cabin for his newfound sword. As he took one last glance at the River before running off, he noticed the wake trailing behind the canoe. He realized it had to have come from the encampment on the far side of the River, not from the direction of the Fort. Only then did Wals notice the wolf fully at ease. Seeing that, he allowed himself relax. Eyes shaded against the glare of the sun off the River, he recognized Mato effortlessly paddling toward him. He wondered what prompted this visit, but was nevertheless happy to see his friend. Thinking about the comings and goings of the tribe during all his time here, he hadn’t noticed any of the natives going anywhere on the Island except to the Fort—and even that was an unusual event. They preferred to remain on the other side of the River. Wals had heard Wolf’s howl, but hadn’t pieced the two together.
After what looked like a brief greeting between the man and the animal, Mato and Wolf headed for the cabin, ignoring the fact that Wals was even standing there. Much to Wals’ confused amusement, Mato also seemed to be deep into an argument with the wolf as they walked the lengthy distance up from the water. The two of them disappeared into the cabin and within moments reemerged. Mato carried Rose’s over-stuffed carpetbag in one hand and the sword Wals had stolen from the cave in his other. His teeth clamped firmly onto Rose’s apron, Wolf was dragging her toward the canoe. Rose was used to odd behavior from the wolf, but she wasn’t taking this well. She was ineffectively trying to free her apron from Wolf’s tenacious grip while voicing her many objections as to why she hadn’t finished packing and why she wasn’t ready to go. Wals could only shrug his shoulders at the questioning look she threw at him as she was drug past him to the waiting canoe.
It was obvious that both Mato and the wolf wanted the two of them in the canoe and they wanted it done right now. All the time wondering how Mato could possibly even be aware of the imminent danger and how man and beast seemed to be working in unison, Wals just gave in and trusted his friend. Wals quickly and silently climbed to the front of the canoe and picked up an extra paddle to help get them across the wide River. The disconcerted Rose and her wolf settled into the middle, Wolf still firmly held onto her apron in case she tried to break free.
As they glided away from the clearing, had any of them thought to look, they would have seen that Rose’s knuckles were white as she gripped the sides of the little boat. The men hadn’t realized that she had never been over to the Village before. Even though she had been pretty sure who had set the fire, the vision of her burning cabin was still playing over and over in her memory, infusing doubt in her troubled mind. She paled all the more and grew quieter the closer they got to the tipi encampment. Not wanting the men to see her fear, she raised her chin and set her mouth in a firm, even line, looking more like a proud Cleopatra being ferried across the Nile by her slaves than someone trying to escape an attack by a band of pirates.
They were met at the water’s edge by the Shaman. His first greeting was to his two sons, then to Wals, and then he tried to welcome the silent, wide-eyed Rose. As she could not speak their language, she could only be guided by the friendly gestures that she was indeed welcome there. Casting a quick glance over to Wals, she could see he was completely at ease. She recalled that he had visited here before and was on friendly terms with the inhabitants, so she too began to relax. Rose watched with curiosity the many women who were working at different tasks around the camp, even breaking into a lovely smile when she realized that they, too, were stealing glances at her.
Her attempt to look around the camp was cut short when Wolf again grabbed Rose’s apron and drug her to the third tipi, back by the edge of the deep forest. His concern was to get her out of sight in case the pirates came faster than he anticipated. Wals followed them into the dwelling and, when Wolf left, they began talking quietly about their situation and how best to proceed.
“When you said you wanted to get the wiya off the Island, I didn’t realize you meant to bring her here.” The Shaman took his son far enough away from the tipi so they could freely talk. The opening of the tipi given to Rose and Wals purposely faced in a different direction than the rocky overhang and the view of the River. Aside from the safety issue, Wolf didn’t think the visiting couple needed to see him deep in conversation with his father.
Wolf bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “I’m glad you aren’t angry with me. I was hoping you would welcome them temporarily.”
The Shaman had been irritated when Mato reported Wolf had been shot and didn’t come home to his own people for help. Worried, of course, but more irritated. He was pleased that at least Wolf realized his family could offer protection for his friends. “Anyone is welcome here
as long as they do no harm.” A small smile creased his face. “I saw your friend drag a sword out of the canoe, but I’m not sure he knows how to use it. He might cut off something he’ll need later.”
Wolf chuckled a little. “Let’s hope not. It might be difficult to explain a hacked-off limb when he gets home.” Wolf let himself picture Wals going to First Aid and trying to describe some kind of event where a sword cutting into him would have been involved. When the silence of his waiting father became obvious, Wolf cleared his throat and got back to the needs at hand. “Wals finally remembered his other world and former life. All of it, I think, from what he’s been saying. It’s the woman Rose we’re not sure about. It doesn’t sound like she’s from our time either. Nothing Wals has been telling her seems familiar. It would help if I could talk directly with Wals. Do you think now, after all that’s occurred, he would accept me as a talking wolf?”
“Does he realize you’re his friend in your other world?”
Wolf shook his head, still wavering between being amused and disgusted at Wals’ inability to put two and two together after all this time. “No, he hasn’t figured that part out yet. I know at times he sees the similarities, but doesn’t seem to be able to get his mind around that possibility. It is difficult enough for me to understand sometimes and yet I’ve lived with it all my life. He’s never even heard of such a thing.”
“What about the wiya?”
“What about her? If you mean would she accept the fact that I can talk, probably the answer would be yes—more so than Wals. I’ve always had the distinct impression she’s quite disappointed I’ve never talked back to her. But, if it got out at the wrong time that I could talk…,” he broke off, shuddering, thinking of cages and laboratories.
Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island Page 23
