Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf

by A. E. McCullough

  Amani explained, “This is Itasca, which means hot springs in our native language. The whole valley is full of them, which is what causes the mist during the colder months. Many of the hogans were built over some of the smaller pools allowing them to warm the lodges during the winter and also give them a bathing place.”

  “This is incredible.”

  With Amani’s help, Tatianna stripped down and entered the steaming hot water. Amani added some scented oils while Tatianna just laid back and relaxed. The extreme heat of the water worked its way up her body, slowly releasing the tension in her muscles. After a few minutes, Tatianna went to the task of cleaning herself up. Afterwards she looked around and noticed for the first time that Amani was gone. Climbing slowly out of the pool, she looked for her clothes but they too were gone.

  “Amani, where are my clothes?”

  A moment later, Amani returned carrying a large robe. “I took them to be cleaned and repaired as the Wolflord requested.”

  Leaning heavily on her roughly cut staff, they returned to the main lodge. “What am I supposed to wear to this feast tonight then?”

  “Come, let me show you.”

  Grabbing her free hand Amani guided her to the sleeping furs where a beautiful outfit made of tanned deerskin lay. The leather was soft and pliable with the tooled designs of the crescent moon and running wolves; grey wolf fur outlined the collar, vest and sleeves. Along with the outfit was a necklace of onyx and ivory. The design was the same she had seen on Hawkeye’s totem pole out front, a howling wolf in front of the full moon. The howling wolf was painstakingly carved of black onyx while the moon was of ivory. Lying next to both of those was the most beautiful walking staff she had ever seen. It was about five feet long and made of red maple. A beautifully preserved eagle’s head was mounted the top of the staff while a red leather strap was attached just below the eagle’s head, along with nine eagle feathers.

  “These are beautiful.”

  Slowly, almost reverently, she picked up the items one by one to study them. The outfit, necklace and staff were items of such rare beauty and exquisite workmanship she could hardly believe that the ‘barbarians of the far north’ had made them. With Amani’s help Tatianna was soon dressed. They were combing out Tatianna’s long scarlet tresses when there was a slight rapping on the pole out front.

  Turning toward the door, Tatianna called out in her musical voice. “Come in.”

  As Kamots Hawkeye stepped through the curtain, Tatianna was shocked at the change in him. Gone was the dirty, worn warrior she had traveled with for many days; in his place stood a majestic and strikingly handsome warrior. His shoulder length black hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a silver hair tie. He was wearing black leather pants and dark gray fur trimmed boots. Over his bare chest, he wore a breastplate of carved bones, which also bore the design of the howling wolf in front of the moon, also made of onyx and ivory. His forearms were covered with black leather bracers embossed with his crest in brilliant silver. He was still wearing his wolf’s mantle but it had been cleaned giving it a completely different appearance. Its silver fur glistened and shone in the flickering firelight. Attached to the ears and jawbone of the headpiece were nine eagle feathers, five of them stained red. At his hip was his trusty tomahawk along with a new knife.

  Tatianna stared in silence at his stunning transformation; he certainly looked to be the Lord of the Wolves.

  Hawkeye bowed low. “Tatianna, you look radiant. I am glad the outfit fits. I hope it is satisfactory.”

  Holding her arms out slightly, Tatianna turned slowly, displaying the outfit. “Yes, it’s lovely.” Reaching up to her throat, she caressed the necklace. “To whom does this belong? It’s beautiful.”

  Lowering his head slightly, Hawkeye responded quietly. “It once belonged to my wife.”

  Tatianna reached up and began to remove the necklace. “I’m sorry but I cannot accept this.”

  “No!” Hawkeye blurted and grabbed her hand. “I mean, please don’t.” He retracted his hand very slowly. “I would very much like to see you wear it. It would bring great honor to her memory.”

  Nodding her acceptance, Tatianna peered into his gray eyes and saw the pain at the memory of his dead wife and son but there was something else. There was. . .

  Breaking eye contact, Hawkeye spoke up quickly. “Here, I brought you something.” Handing her a leather pouch, he added, “Anasazi says to chew on these herbs after you’ve eaten or if the pain in your leg worsens.”

  Quietly accepting the pouch, she reached down and picked up the eagle’s head staff. “I suppose this also belonged to your wife?”

  Hawkeye shook his head. “Actually, no. According to Anasazi, it was left behind by my mother.”

  Raising the staff again to study it Tatianna said, “It’s lovely. I will try to be worthy of its memory.”

  “Anasazi says it’s enchanted but no one has been able to determine what the enchantment is or does. It has been a mystery all my life. I thought it could serve you now, whether or not we ever figure out the enchantment.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tatianna flashed him a crooked grin. “What does a girl have to do to get something to eat around here?”

  Hawkeye laughed and the tension between them melted away. “Well, if you aren’t a Highlander, you must be accompanied by a member of the tribe. It just so happens that I fit that general description.” Holding out his arm, he asked, “Would you care to join the celebration?”

  Tatianna gave Amani a quick wink before draping her arm gently on top of his. “Most gracious sir, lead the way.”

  Together, they stepped into the chilly autumn night. The snow had stopped for the evening and the majority of the dark clouds had moved off to the south, leaving the sky full of stars. As they strolled slowly through the village, Hawkeye pointed out several of the lodges or special places of the village. By the time they reached the clearing there were already several hundred Highlanders enjoying themselves at the celebration. At the edge of the steaming lake, a great bonfire roared to the heavens; even from the edge of the clearing, Tatianna could feel its warmth. As the couple moved through the gathering each group would stop in their festivities and nod. Finally reaching an area close enough to the bonfire that Tatianna no longer felt the chill of the night air, they sat down on some logs. Immediately, several young highlanders brought them food and drink. The feast was of roasted buffalo with many strange and exotic vegetables that Tatianna had never seen or tasted before.

  Handing her a wooden mug filled with a sparkling clear liquid, Hawkeye spoke low. “Be careful with this, it’s rather potent.”

  Given him a quizzical look, Tatianna took a sip. At first, her throat was on fire as if the clear liquid was molten lava but then a strange warmth began to flow out from her stomach and into every fiber of her being. She cast a dubious look at the liquid and asked, “What is this?”

  “Luna’s Elixir or what the dwarves would call moonshine.”

  Taking a second sip, Tatianna didn’t feel the fire of her first taste just the warmth. It was smooth and relaxing. Turning back to her plate of food, they ate in silence and Tatianna watched the villagers celebrate together. Seeing them laughing and joking with each other made her heart lighten. She soon forgot most of her troubles and worries. From the way everyone was pointing at her, Tatianna figured that the tale of her encounter with the Blackfang and his followers had spread throughout the village. Everyone, especially the warriors, treated her with great respect and admiration. Her pointed ears and pale skin entranced the children of the village. Amani, who was again waiting on her, seemed to gain status in the hierarchy of the children. Being used to such attention when among the non-elven people, Tatianna didn’t mind.

  After the feast, Hawkeye joined a group of warriors around the bonfire. The old men and women of the tribe began playing drums and flutes while some chanted. The warriors began an intricate dance around the bonfire. Tatianna didn’t understand the dance
but enjoyed watching. She could see Hawkeye among the dancers, his silver wolf pelt glistening in the firelight and the great wolf headpiece bobbing with the tempo of the music. Tatianna marveled at how gracefully he moved. Jumping and spinning in great circles, he always landed lightly on his feet and always in perfect time with the music. Soon she realized that watching him dance was making her slightly excited. Her heart was racing, her stomach was in a knot and she found herself holding her breath. Blushing slightly, she tried to watch the other dancers and ignore Hawkeye. It didn’t work.

  When the dance was over, Hawkeye crossed the clearing. Heading right to her, the other dancers parted and bowed their heads slightly in respect as he passed. Walking right up to her, steam still pouring off his sweat-covered body, he asked, “Are you enjoying the feast?"

  "Yes, tremendously.” Still feeling slightly flushed and embarrassed about her earlier thoughts, she quickly changed the subject. “What was that dance about? I could tell there was a message in it but I couldn’t figure it out.”

  “That was the Dance of the Crescent Moon.” He pointed to the moon overhead. “It is a sacred dance that we perform during the waxing and waning phases of the moon. It is just another one of the ways we honor the Moon Goddess when we are in our humanoid form. Tonight’s dance and feast are also one of celebration for it is the end of the autumn season. Soon, winter will be upon us and the hunting will get scarce. So during the winter season, the nine tribes of the Highlanders act as one. Normally, we are in competition with each other over hunting grounds which sometimes lead to battle. Yet each winter, the nine tribes set aside their differences and gather at the four villages to wait out the winter. It is a time of renewing friendships, making alliances and trading goods. It is one of our happiest times.”

  He pointed around at some of the other warriors nearby. “This year three packs from the Wolf tribes, one from the Boar, two from the Fox and every member of the Bear, Raven and Wolverine tribes have gathered here to spend the winter in this village.”

  Picking up some furs, he gently wrapped them around her. “As the fire starts to burn down, it will get cold. I must go. A meeting of the Great Council has been called and I must speak of what has happened. Stay here. You are invited. You may also be asked to tell your story.” Turning, he walked back toward the bonfire and disappeared into the crowd.

  Watching him go Tatianna suddenly realized how safe she felt with him nearby. Shaking her head to clear it of those thoughts, she felt a slight tug on her arm. Turning, she found Amani standing there her eyes wide with wonder.

  “Hello, Amani. What can I do for you?”

  “Did you really travel with the Wolflord and fight Blackfang?”

  “Yes, did you not believe the stories?”

  Lowering her head, Amani swirled her foot in the snow. “No mistress, I didn’t. I thought that the other children just made it up. You seem so frail and gentle, nothing like a warrior.”

  Tatianna reached out with her left hand and gently raised Amani’s chin until they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Thank you for being honest. But a warrior doesn’t have to be strong and fierce, just skilled and smart. A true warrior doesn’t go looking for fights but when pushed, fights with all her heart and skill.”

  Smiling at her words, the young girl quickly reached out and hugged her. Startled, Tatianna returned the brief hug. Breaking the embrace, Amani stated boldly. “One day I will be a great warrior like you!” Turning, Amani ran off into the heavy mist that blanketed the village.

  The crowd diminished slowly as the Council of Elders gathered around the bonfire. It seemed that everyone, except the children, were present. For over an hour the council spoke in their native tongue, which Tatianna didn’t understand. But she could tell that they were worried about something. Their conversation seemed to include just about every warrior present. Judging from their tones, the warriors and the council seemed to be divided pretty evenly on one subject.

  One thing that amazed her though was the respect each warrior gave to the speaker. No one spoke out of turn, argued or seemed to lose their temper. Each warrior waited until a small stick with a skull attached to one end was passed to him before speaking his piece. After which he would pass it to the next warrior and so on. When the stick reached Hawkeye, he stood up slowly and looked around for a moment before telling his story. It was in his native tongue but she knew it was the tale of her rescue because everyone kept glancing at her and nodding. When Hawkeye was done with his story, he passed on the talking stick and walked over and sat down beside her.

  “That went better than I thought,” he said. “Many of the chieftains already knew of the problems with the Black Wolf Pack.” He nodded toward a group of old men on the far side of the bonfire who were talking amongst themselves in low tones. “They’re debating the situation. Evidently, several other packs from each tribe have also turned to evil. Blackfang’s minions now control the eastern village and have completely destroyed the southern village. This is not good news.”

  Nodding, Tatianna watched and waited. When Hawkeye didn’t continue, she asked a question which had been bothering her all night. “Hawkeye, may I ask you another question?” Seeing him nod in response, she continued. “Why do Amani and the others refer to you as the Wolflord?”

  Hawkeye grinned slightly before explaining. “The title of warlord is given to the strongest warrior of each pack. Any warrior of a particular pack can become the warlord. All he has to do is challenge the present warlord to a duel; it is usually not to the death but to some pre-stated condition. A warlord shares the responsibility for the safety of his people with chieftain and the council of elders. A wise warlord only enforces his dominance in matters of defense of his community and during times of war. He waits and listens to the council of elders. They have been around a long time and many are former warlords.”

  Pausing slightly, Hawkeye turned his body to face her more. The light of the fire shadowed his face and made him seem more mysterious.

  “I tell you this for you must understand my unique position. I never knew my parents. My father died shortly after I was born and my mother disappeared shortly after my birth. Anasazi raised me for the first couple years of my life until I was adopted by the chieftain of the White Wolf Pack. Although Whitefang was my mentor, the whole pack shared the responsibility of raising me. It was a hard life but very rewarding. During my twentieth summer, I became the warlord after the tragic death of Whitefang at the hands of the cyclopean raiders. I led the White Wolf Pack for many years and only had to defend my title of warlord twice.”

  His face grew hard and his voice turned colder. “Then three summers ago my life changed. Blackfang and the Black Wolf Pack with the help of several cyclops raided my pack’s campsite. They killed everyone and left me for dead. I vowed to survive if only to have my just revenge. Odovacar, a young brave of the Silver Boar Pack, found me and brought me to his camp. They nursed me back to health until I was strong enough to address the Great Council.”

  The tone of his voice changed becoming softer, yet not the soft gentle voice Tatianna was so used to hearing.

  “The Great Council heard my tale and granted me the ‘Right of Vengeance’. This would allow me one of two choices; I could take another wife and rebuild the White Wolf or join another pack. For according to the Laws of Luna, only a member of a tribe may seek rightful vengeance on another Highlander but I refused both choices. I felt that taking another wife or joining another pack would only diminish the memory of my family and friends. So, I was adopted by the other five wolf packs. The Great Council bestowed the title of Wolflord on me when I beat all existing warlords save one, in single combat. So I am like the shamans, I belong to all wolf packs and none. Therefore, I am the Wolflord.”

  Tatianna watched Hawkeye’s eyes as he told his story. She could see them sparkle and shine with the good memories, yet flash with anger and pain at the bad ones. Although something told her that she already knew the answer, she felt
compelled to ask. “Who was the one warlord you didn’t beat?”

  Staring into the heart of the fire, Hawkeye nearly spit out the answer. “Blackfang. He refused to come to the gathering. He and the Black Wolf were the first to forsake the ways of Luna and turn their back on the Great Council.” Looking up into the heavens, his voice was faint as if speaking directly to his goddess. “One day, Blackfang and I will meet in combat and I will have my revenge.”

  One of the elderly chieftains stood up and pointed at Tatianna. He was wearing an immense war bonnet of eagle feathers with several of the feathers at the crest of the headdress dyed completely red. All gathered were quiet when he began to speak. His voice was rough yet strong when he asked, “Would the young elf honor us by telling us her story?”

  Many of the others nodded their agreement.

  Hawkeye whispered. “That is Red Crow, chieftain of the Raven Tribe. Those red feathers indicate that although he had been severely wounded in battle, he was still able to vanquish his enemies.”

  Standing slowly, Tatianna leaned heavily on her eagle-head staff and did her best to speak in an even voice. “I am the Princess Tatianna Amarth, Bladeweaver and the daughter of Queen Circe, ruler of the Elven kingdom known as the Elfholm. I will tell you what I know.”

  Closing her eyes, Tatianna let her mind drift back to the last few days before her encounter at the Shrine of Luna. When she spoke, her musical voice seemed distant and far away, as if she was reliving the past…which she was.

  * * * * *

  I was traveling with a small patrol along the great barrier cliffs known across the lowlands simply as The Wall. The moon was just a few days from being full as we camped in a rocky ravine a few miles west of the Great Falls. The autumn breeze was cool and light, carrying the sweet scent of pine on its wings. As the night fell, the air became full with the mournful cry of wolves. They seemed many miles away, their voices floating on the autumn wind. When one wolf would end his song, another would pick it up. I found their song to be quite enchanting however most in my party didn’t. They seemed slightly frightened at the songs and stayed huddled near the campfires while lightly fingering their weapons.