by Tora Moon
“What’s up with the matted, twisted locks, anyway, bro?”
“Too long in the swamps. I’d have to shave my head to get rid of them.” Blazel shrugged. “I like them now.”
“Oh, okay.” Blazel didn’t think anything would faze Rolstrun’s easy-going nature. “There’s another place for that and for rinsing. Wait ‘till you see it! Are you finished soaping?” Rolstrun stood up, soap dripping off him.
Blazel hurried to scrub the rest of his body.
“This way.” Rolstrun led him to another tub, this one with a big, wide spigot on a pipe coming out the top and a chain hanging next to it. Rolstrun stood under the spigot and tugged on the chain. A lever lowered and water came swooshing out, like a mini waterfall. The soap slid off his body and circled down a drain in the floor, and the water soaked Rolstrun’s hair. Another yank on the chain and the lever popped up, stopping the flow of water. Rolstrun stepped aside. “Your turn.”
Blazel stood under the spigot, pulled on the chain, and reveled in the warm water sloshing over him. Rolstrun held out another pot of soap. This one was a clear liquid.
“For your hair. Bro, I don’t know, but you might need to wash it more than once. Hold out your hand.”
Blazel did as asked and Rolstrun poured some of the liquid into his palm. Blazel picked up one of his dreadlocks and rubbed in the soap. It foamed and as he squeezed the coil, black water poured out. His hair was dirtier than he thought. He started working on the other locks. A touch on his back startled him and he pulled away from the touch. He’d heard how promiscuous the packs were. They had sex with whomever they pleased; gender wasn’t an issue. He’d never been with anyone before—of either gender.
“Hey, no worries,” Rolstrun said softly, “just helping, bro. You have a lot of hair!”
Rolstrun worked on the back of his hair while Blazel worked on the front. Rolstrun was right: it took two washings for the water to run clear.
“Now for the good part!” Rolstrun ambled to a big tub and climbed in. “There’s room for both of us,” he said as he sat down.
Trying not to feel prudish, Blazel climbed into the tub and moved to the far side, as far away from Rolstrun as he could get. The tub had a bench under the surface. Sitting on it submerged his body and made him feel less self-conscious.
“Usually after a fight,” Rolstrun informed him, “this room is filled. We left it empty for you.”
“Thank you, that was thoughtful.”
“Faelyn insisted. She might not be the alpha, but you listen to her.”
“I can understand that.” Blazel leaned back and fully relaxed for the first time in three years. Rolstrun seemed to sense his need for quiet and stopped talking. Blazel drifted off into a doze.
“Why aren’t you in a pack, bro?” Rolstrun broke the silence. “I thought we had to live in packs.”
“I was born in the Sanctuary and grew up there with my mother and grandmother. I was the only male, so there wasn’t a pack to be part of. Then when I left, I went north, to the Deep Mountains. There aren’t any packs there.” Blazel smiled as he remembered the flight of Phengriffs that had taken him in. For the first time, he had felt like he had belonged somewhere, even if he was an outsider and a different species.
“How old were you? Why did you go north?”
“I was seventeen.” He debated whether to tell Rolstrun why. It was the same reason he had spent the last three years in the swamps—Chariel. He decided to risk it; Rolstrun just might be the friend he’d never had. “My friend Chariel sent me, just like she did to the swamps.”
Rolstrun looked at him with awe. “Chariel’s your friend?”
“Yep. We grew up together. How do you know about her?”
“When Wisah, a White Priestess, came home from the Sanctuary, she talked about Chariel all the time. I’ve heard she’s a powerful Gray.”
“Yes, she is. When Chariel has an oracle vision about you, you go where she sends you.”
“Well that explains why we haven’t seen you until now. Histrun expected you to come to Strunland Keep when you left the Sanctuary. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Supreme made you leave and you’d need a pack. He speaks highly of you and ordered us to be on the lookout for you.”
“He never told me.” Blazel slapped the water in irritation. “I thought no one would take me into their pack. Since I didn’t have any place to go, I was happy to go where Chariel sent me. But now, I’ve been alone so long, I don’t know if I can be in a pack.” He heard the longing in his voice. Men were meant to live in packs, not alone. He had treasured his time with the Phengriff flight.
“If you decide you want to be in a pack, come to Strunland. We’ll welcome you. Histrun’s still running things there, even if Naila and Kelstrun are the official Keep Alphas. He’d find a place for an ugly wolf like you.”
Blazel reached up self-consciously to touch the scar on his cheek. It showed stark on his face; even a thick beard couldn’t hide it. It began at his right cheekbone and ran down his face, just missing his mouth, and continued over his chin and across his neck and chest, ending at his left elbow.
“Hey, sorry, bro,” apology filled Rolstrun’s voice. He ducked his head. “Didn’t mean it like that. Sometimes I speak before I think.”
“It’s okay. I’ve had it for a long time, and sometimes I forget it’s there.”
“How did you get it?” Rolstrun’s eyes lit up in the excitement of a good story.
“I was seventeen and had just left the Sanctuary. I went to the Deep Mountains, although I knew nothing about them or living in the wilds. Thank the Mother, the wolf instinct is strong in our wolf form. I would have starved otherwise.”
“You really didn’t know how to hunt as a man or a wolf? It’s the first thing they teach us when we’re little. Most of us go hunting as much as possible.” Rolstrun grinned and lowered his voice. “It gets us away from the girls. Especially the Reds! I mean they’re nice and everything, but they can be so bossy. Rizelya, for instance, isn’t an alpha, at least not yet, but you’d think she was one already. She bosses everyone around.” His voice took on a wistful quality. “But then she could boss me all the time.”
“Is she your mate?”
“Oh! No! Just wishful thinking,” Rolstrun sighed. “We’re from the same pack, but I’m younger and she doesn’t even know I exist. But oh, bro, you should see how beautiful she is.” Rolstrun sighed again. “Back to your story. You obviously learned how to hunt successfully.”
“At the time I was very inept at living in the wild. I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t realize I was being hunted. A sabertiger jumped me.” Blazel turned his back to show Rolstrun. Four parallel lines went from his shoulder to waist. “I got these on the first swipe. I must have moved just as he jumped.”
Rolstrun whistled. “Bro, those are nasty.”
Blazel turned back around and indicated the scars on his face and chest. “I got these when it tried to eat me. I was lucky a Phengriff was flying by. He saved me.”
“A Phengriff! Really? I thought they were myths.”
“They’re real. If it wasn’t for Graak, I wouldn’t be alive today. He and his flight taught me how to survive in the wilds.” Blazel fell silent as a sense of longing filled him. It had been a long time since he had seen his Phengriff friend. Maybe he could travel to the flight’s home after he saw Chariel. Suddenly he wasn’t in the mood to continue soaking. He stood up.
Rolstrun stood up and climbed out of the tub ahead of Blazel. “We’ve stayed here too long. I’m surprised Maheli hasn’t sent someone down to fetch us yet.” He handed Blazel a thick towel, then grimaced. “Not a good thing.”
They quickly dried and dressed. Blazel ran his hands over the first new clothes he had worn in several years. They fit his tall and muscular frame well. The shirt was a turquoise blue with yellow geometric designs woven into the fabric—the work of a skilled weaver. Complementary designs were embroidered around the edge of the neck, sleeve
s, and hem. The deep-blue trousers were in the sturdy, thick weave he’d seen most men and women favored. It withstood the rigors of fighting and daily living. Trousers made with this fabric lasted a long time, unless they met with the acidic monster ichor.
Blazel sat on a bench near the wall and lifted his boot to put it on. “Ugh,” he grimaced, making a face. It was plastered with swamp gunk and layered with a deep coating of Barrens particles. He didn’t want to put the filthy boots on his clean feet.
“Here.” Rolstrun held out a pair of slippers. “Wear these until we get back upstairs. We might have a pair of boots that will fit you.”
“That would be great. Mine have had it.” He tossed his worn-out boots into a trash bin.
Blazel followed Rolstrun back up to the main section of the keep and to a storage closet, where they found a new pair of boots that fit him.
Being clean and wearing clothes that weren’t rags inspired confidence. He was ready to face Alpha Maheli.
* * *
Blazel followed Rolstrun into the courtyard filled with men and women practicing, the men wrestling and the women spinning their helbraughts. One by one, they stopped their practice to watch Blazel as he passed by.
“No worries, bro, they’re just curious.” Rolstrun’s voice was soothing. “No one here is going to hurt you.”
Blazel stopped growling and rubbed his arms to smooth the hair standing on end. Keeping his gaze on the ground, he walked at Rolstrun’s side. It would be poor manners on his part to challenge these men after Maheli’s hospitality.
Finally, they crossed the courtyard and reached a door. Rolstrun knocked and Maheli called for them to enter.
“Well, well, boyo, you clean up nice,” Maheli said as they walked into the room. She sat behind a desk, where a large man sat next to her. “This is Bohandran ke-Strunland, my co-alpha.”
Blazel ducked his head in acknowledgment of the two alphas. He heard Rolstrun leave and quietly shut the door.
“Now, boyo, I want to hear a story. Your story.”
“It could take a while to tell all of it.” Blazel knew he was walking a thin line. It had been a long time since he’d had to deal with the hierarchy of a pack.
Maheli’s lips lifted in a smile. “We have the time.”
Bohandran’s mouth was pulled in a tight line, and menace radiated from him. “I want to know why you’re not in a pack, rogue,” Bohandran ground out as he leaned forward, hands pressed on the desk, and rose slightly.
Blazel narrowed his eyes, then took a deep breath to let the insult slide over him. Male alphas had a problem with wolves who weren’t part of a pack, and for good reason. Rogues killed people, and it was the alpha’s responsibility to put them down.
“I was born and raised in the Sanctuary. Not any packs there. No need, no men.”
“Why didn’t you join a pack when you came of age and left the Sanctuary?” Maheli sounded curious, not annoyed.
“I thought no one wanted me.”
“Strunland would have accepted you. Histrun liked you,” Maheli said.
Blazel shrugged. “He never told me. Besides, Chariel sent me north. That’s why I left.”
“Chariel?” Bohandran’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “The Gray Oracle? Why would she send a rogue like you anywhere?”
“I don’t know why, but she’s had a few visions about me.” He pushed down his irritation. Bohandran’s attitude was like most people Blazel had met. If you didn’t belong to a pack you must be a rouge—a dangerous menace, exiled from the packs for the safety of all—and not alone by choice. “Because of her visions, I went north to the Deep Mountains for almost five years, and it’s why I’ve spent the last three traveling and living in every swamp I could find. It sure wasn’t because it was fun.” Blazel turned to Maheli, who seemed to like him. “Besides, she’s my friend. Chariel’s calling me back to the Sanctuary now. It’s important I get back quickly.”
“Then we’ll help you do so.” Maheli gestured for him to sit down.
Bohandran looked aghast at Maheli. “You don’t believe his bullshit story, do you?”
“Yes, I do. You’re fairly new to our clan-pack, so you don’t know Histrun well. He’s been talking about this boyo and his relationship with Chariel for years. Thinks he’s something special.” Maheli gazed for a long moment at Blazel. “I think Histrun might be right. But why is it so necessary for you to get back to the Sanctuary?”
“I don’t know.” Frustration made Blazel surge to his feet and pace the small room. “I hear her voice in the back of my head saying, ‘hurry, hurry, hurry.’ I don’t know why. Just before I left the southern swamp, I remembered her vision that sent me there.” He looked directly at Maheli, for some reason wanting her to believe him. “I’m scared, Alpha. I’m scared something horrible is coming, worse than the Malvers monsters. When fire is in the sky, the madness is near.” He put a hand over his mouth, he didn’t know why he’d said that.
Both the alphas looked alarmed. It was hard to imagine anything worse than their ancient enemy.
Maheli asked, “Why do you think that, boyo?”
“Something I remembered she said in her vision.” Blazel sat back down and leaned toward the desk. “She said there was madness approaching and what I learned in the swamp could save us. Even she was frightened of what she saw, and she couldn’t remember much of it.” Blazel paused, his eyes widening as he continued. “Come to think of it, when she sent me north, I was to find that which would save us all.”
“What are you to save us from?” Bohandran asked, doubt still lacing his voice.
Blazel shot up from his chair again. “I don’t know,” he all but howled. “She couldn’t tell me, only that it’s awful.”
“We’ve been seeing a much higher activity of Malvers monster nests,” Maheli commented, “even a new type of janack.”
“I noticed. It’s been much harder to cross the Barrens without being seen or getting caught this time.” Blazel smiled ruefully.
“Didn’t quite make it, did you, boyo?”
“No, ma'am. I couldn’t let that brecha get away, though.” He looked at Bohandran. “I may be a lone wolf, but I know my duty when it comes to Malvers monsters. We never let them get away; we kill them.”
“Rolstrun said you fought well out there,” Bohandran said grudgingly.
Blazel felt his ears redden at the unexpected praise. “I’ve had to learn to fight all sorts of twisted creatures in the swamps. After them, a lonely brecha wasn’t much of a challenge.”
“I want to hear the rest of your story,” Maheli said with a grin. “Now. It’s too late for you to leave today.”
Blazel started to argue.
“No.” She put up a hand and stopped him. “We need to get you supplies so you can cross the rest of the Barrens quickly and it will take some time.” Bohandran left the office grumbling about rogues.
Maheli settled back in her chair, her hands over her stomach. “Now, tell me the rest of your story. Don’t leave anything out, I want to hear it all.”
Blazel resigned himself to having to tell this pushy alpha his life history. He took a deep breath and said, “Well, I came to be born in the Sanctuary like this.” The midday meal was served in Maheli’s office while he continued telling her. At last he came to the end. “I hid waiting for the battle to end, but instead saw a brecha running away with no one following it. You know the rest.”
“Thank you, Blazel. I understand now why Histrun thinks so highly of you.” Maheli pushed away from the desk. “Now, I have work to do.”
Blazel left the office and found his way back to the courtyard. Rolstrun was waiting for him.
“She must have grilled you horribly. You were in there for a long time.”
“It wasn’t too bad. I need to work off some energy though. Spar with me, Rolstrun.”
Rolstrun looked him over, then grinned. They were well matched, and soon they were both sweating. A warning bell clanged and Rolstrun stopped mid move.
“Brave Warrior!” Rolstrun swore. “Another nest is forming. Sorry, Blazel, but I gotta go.” He took off running across the courtyard toward the stables.
Blazel followed, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his chest. He found an extra horse and led it out of its stall to stand next to Rolstrun’s.
“Why is everyone so frazzled?” Blazel watched what Rolstrun did with his horse and copied him. It had been a long time since he’d saddled or ridden a horse.
“The nests are forming all out of whack.” Rolstrun adjusted the saddle blanket and tossed on the saddle. “Even here near the crater, the nests have always formed on a predictable schedule, but not any longer. We weren’t supposed to have a nest to fight for another two days. Blast these damn monsters anyway.”
“Well, that would explain why the guard-pack south of here looked so exhausted.” Blazel wiggled the saddle to make sure it sat on the horse’s withers correctly. “I could only travel a few measures before running into another battle.”
“Thank the Crone, it hasn’t gotten quite that bad here.” Rolstrun had already cinched his saddle and was putting the bit and bridle on.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Faelyn demanded.
Blazel jumped at her sharp tone; he hadn’t heard her approach. She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips.
“Going to help. There’s monsters to be fought.” He turned back to tighten the cinch.
“No, you’re to stay here,” she informed him. “You’re on the injured list.”
“What?” Blazel turned back around to face her. “I’m not injured. Let me go fight.”
“No, we have enough fighters, while you, on the other hand, have a long journey ahead of you. You need to rest.” She reached up, standing on her toes to cup his face between her hands. “I know you’re a capable fighter, but more than that, Blazel, you’re special. We need you to reach the Sanctuary.”