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

Home > Science > Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf > Page 23
Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf Page 23

by A. E. McCullough


  Tatianna sitting back took another sip of the elven mead. The golden liquid traveled slowly down her throat, warming her. Thinking on the riddle for several moments, she shook her head. “If I had to guess, I would say death!”

  Anasazi chuckled. “If that was the proper answer, you would have never had been born. For that was the dragon’s answer and it is wrong.” Shaking his head slightly, “No, the answer is time. Only time can do all of those things.”

  Refilling her wooden cup, he leaned back into the furs and took a sip from his own cup.

  Sitting back, Tatianna let her mind dwell on the subject of her mother, the riddle and time. As she drank more of the elven mead it began to work its subtle magic on her. Her mind began drifting across the many miles to the Elfholm, her homeland. In her mind’s eye, she could see the majestic redwood trees, the towering oaks, the beautiful rock gardens of the palace and the seas of flowers that bloomed all year round. She immediately felt at peace. Her mind began to wander through all the places she knew and loved in her youth. Slowly, her thoughts returned to the present. From her vantage point of being completely relaxed and slightly separated from reality, she could see her situation in a new light. The stresses that were bothering her were all trivial when compared to the problems of the world. She realized only three things truly mattered in her life; her dedication to her goddess Aurora; the man she loved, Hawkeye; and her unborn son, the Chosen One. Everything else in her life was trivial when compared to these three things.

  Sitting up, she fixed her blue eyes on Anasazi. “You are trying to tell me to trust Hawkeye. That he knows what he’s doing and only time will tell if he was right.” Rising, she picked up her eagle-headed staff and took a step toward the door. Pausing, she turned back. “Thank you, Anasazi. Your wisdom has helped me see truth in this situation. I love Hawkeye. I don’t like what he is doing but I will have to trust him. The gods trust him, so must I. Thank you again.”

  Standing slowly, the old shaman smiled. “You are very much like your mother, beautiful and emotional, yet surprisingly logical.”

  Picking up the decanter, he handed it to her. “Here, take this. It was once your mother’s and now it is yours. She placed an enchantment on it that keeps it from ever running dry. So, when the little stresses of life become too great or you wish to remember your homeland, perform the ritual as you have now learned it. It will help you forget the bad and remember the good.”

  Holding the decanter gingerly, she gazed at the old shaman. Her smile was warm and her eyes were bright, yet full of tears. “Thank you, I will treasure it always.”

  Leaning forward quickly, she kissed him lightly on his left cheek and left him alone with his thoughts.

  * * * * *

  Hawkeye spent the afternoon in preparation for the combat. He had cleaned and polished his war club. It was made of ironwood, a rare tree found only in the most southern parts of the Highlands. It was red in appearance and when properly cured had the strength of iron. His war club was carved in the shape of an eagle’s talon holding a large ball. The shaft was wrapped in red leather with three eagle feathers hanging from the base. This was one of his most cherished weapons. It had belonged to his father and was one of the few items he had left behind on the night of his disappearance.

  Since he had no intention of killing anyone, this was the weapon he planned to use throughout the Tsanahwit. However a true warrior is always ready to battle to the death. So, he also spent time preparing his other weapons. He sharpened his tomahawk until its razor like edge could split a hair.

  He also cleaned, polished and wrapped new grips on the fire scarred knife and sword he had picked up on his journey. Both weapons were still extremely sharp. After taking them through a few practice strokes, he decided that they were also extremely well balanced.

  As he worked on his weapons, his mind drifted off to the upcoming combat. He knew that the warlords of the Boar, Raven, Puma and Owl tribes would submit if he proved he could defeat them in single combat but he wasn’t sure of the rest, especially the Wolverine and Bear Tribe Warlords. These two were normally the most aggressive and warlike of all the tribes. They typically liked to fight to the death but if defeated, they would have no choice but to follow him.

  A smile crept over his face as he thought about the Fox Tribe. Now, that was one warlord he was looking forward to defeating. He had been a little too arrogant on the night of his challenge. He had asked around to some of the other warriors about the Fox chieftain, known as Red Ferret. All he could find out was that he was young, only about twenty or so and very aggressive. He had assumed the dual position of warlord and chieftain on the same night early in the summer after a landslide had killed both the former chieftain and warlord. Rumor was that it was not an accident but no one could prove otherwise.

  A rap on his totem pole brought him out of his reverie. “Enter.”

  His kinsman, Bravefoot entered. Dusting off the snow that had collected on his black fur cloak, his face was full of concern and worry.

  Hawkeye greeted the young warrior at the door. “Greetings my friend, what is it that brings you to my lodge?”

  Grasping Hawkeye’s forearm in the traditional greeting of warriors, Bravefoot smiled. “Greetings Wolflord, I bring bad news. Several of our scouts have returned from the western hunting grounds. It seems that Blackfang and his Dark Alliance have razed all the camps in the area. Our scouts reported seeing a large number of cyclops and goblins roaming the area searching for survivors.”

  Furrowing his brow, Hawkeye stroked his chin with his right hand. “Do we have an estimate of the how large the attacking force was?”

  “From the few survivors we have rescued, they attacked in the dead of the night, swarming over the defenses and defenders. By all accounts the attacking force was roughly fifteen hundred goblins, at least three dozen cyclops and several hundred gnomes.” Bravefoot hesitated for a moment before asking, “What does this mean? What is Blackfang up to?”

  Forcing a smile, Hawkeye clasped the younger warrior on the shoulder. “What it means my friend is that the price of failure just went up. If I fail tonight, then the highlanders not associated with Blackfang will not live to see the summer. Blackfang intends to attack during the Yuletide Festival.”

  A look of shock and disbelief crossed Bravefoot’s face. “So soon? You’ve got to be joking. No highlander would launch an attack before the spring equinox! That is one of Luna’s sacred laws. Even Blackfang wouldn’t break that tradition.”

  Hawkeye chuckled. “Why? He has broken other traditions. Why not that one? You are assuming he thinks like you. If there is one thing I have learned over the last several years, thou shalt never assume! I’m not taking anything for granted. We will be ready for the Dark Alliance whenever they attack.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes, two things. First, send a small war party to check the southern ridgeway.”

  “Why?”

  Hawkeye walked over to a small bench. “I’m sure Blackfang has sent some of his troops north to spy on us. I think it would be a good idea if we had a welcoming committee waiting for them.”

  Nodding his head, Bravefoot waited for Hawkeye to continue. After a brief moment he added, “And the second?”

  Picking up several bowls of war paint and a small bundle of herbs from the bench, Hawkeye returned to the fire.

  “Pray. If I am not successful tonight then the Highland Nation is doomed. I can feel it. Our only hope is to act as one nation, not nine tribes.”

  Seeing Hawkeye returning to his ritual, Bravefoot turned to go but added, “Good luck Wolflord. May Luna’s light shine on you in tonight’s quest.”

  “Thank you my friend. May Luna’s light shine on us all.”

  Sitting down with his legs crossed, Hawkeye placed the bowls to the right of the fire but within easy reach. Throwing the bundle of herbs on the fire, he closed his eyes and began to chant. Gray smoke and a strong aroma immediately filled the lodge as
the fire quickly consumed the dry herbs. Breathing deeply, Hawkeye continued to chant for several minutes. Then, placing two fingers in one of the bowls, he began to spread the war paint on his body.

  At moonrise the whole village was gathered in or around the Lodge of the Moon, only the Great Council was seated in their traditional spot near the large bonfire that blazed in the center. The lodge was noisy as everyone gossiped to the person next to him or her. Only the Great Council sat quietly, waiting. As Hawkeye approached, all who were in his way drew back and fell silent. Gone was the easy going, silent warrior they had come to know and love. Here stood the fierce Wolflord, dressed in his battle array of his wolf mantle and gray furs while his face, chest and arms were striped with black, red and white war paint. Each stripe represented a wound or scar he had received in combat; the black marks represented injuries caused by animals, the red by warriors and the white by ranged weapons; arrows or spears. Hawkeye had more red than black stripes and very few white marks.

  Stepping into the lodge, Hawkeye briefly scanned the room. He knew most of the warriors gathered but nowhere did he see Tatianna. Reaching the Great Council, he dropped to one knee as a sign of respect. The first thing he noticed were the two empty seats at the council. Red Ferret and Odovacar were missing. Hawkeye realized they were both a part of tonight’s challenge.

  Bowing his head, he said, “My greetings to the Great Council, I humbly ask for your blessing in this ancient ritual.”

  Red Crow picked up an ancient wing of an eagle, dipped it into a bowl of water and brushed them across Hawkeye’s forehead. “Go Kamots Hawkeye the Wolflord. You have the blessing of the Great Council and the hopes of the Highland Nation.”

  Hawkeye locked eyes with Red Crow for a moment. He could see a mixture of hope, sadness and pride. Glancing over to his uncle, he saw the same in his eyes.

  Flashing them a wink, Hawkeye added, “I shall return victorious or not at all.”

  As Hawkeye left the lodge, everyone gathered followed him to the village’s perimeter, except the Great Council. They sat alone in the Lodge of the Moon and began to chant their prayers to their goddess.

  The full moon was just rising over the trees in the east as Hawkeye reached the gates of the village. The warriors on guard duty bowed their heads briefly in a silent salute. The cheering crowd stopped at the gate and fell silent.

  Hawkeye continued a few yards before stopping to follow customs of the ancient ritual. Raising his war club above his head, he let out a loud war cry that echoed off the valley walls.

  “Kamots Hawkeye the Wolflord is on the hunt! Let all those who would stand against me beware!”

  Breaking into a slow run, Hawkeye followed the road to the bottom of the mountain before turning toward the forest. The gathered highlanders watched him run off into the forest before returning to the warmth of the village.

  All save one. While the guards and the crowds watched Hawkeye run off into the forest, a solitary figure cloaked all in black, slipped over the wall and slithered into the darkness to the south completely unobserved.

  * * * * *

  Hawkeye slowed his pace when he reached the forest. Sniffing the air, he caught the scent of jasmine mixed with a familiar odor. Tatianna! She was nearby!

  Movement to his left caught his eye, as she stepped out from behind a large pine tree. She was wearing her midnight blue dress and blood red sash. She looked radiant.

  Her voice was soft and delicate as she spoke. “Hello my beloved.”

  Rushing together, they held each other in a strong embrace, neither of them speaking a word for several minutes. Finally, Hawkeye stepped back. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

  She flashed him a crooked smile. “You should know I wouldn’t let my wolfman go off without giving him something to remember me by.” Reaching into her sash, she pulled forth a golden scarf. “Take this as a token of my love.”

  Gently reaching out, Hawkeye took the scarf. It was warm to the touch and seemed to glow slightly. “Thank you my love. I will treasure it always.”

  “It has been blessed by Aurora and enchanted with the morning sun. When the need is great and the darkness surrounds you, close your eyes and throw it in the air. Aurora will do the rest.”

  Gingerly, he tucked it in his belt pouch and pulled her into his arms. “I love you.”

  “And I you. Just be careful and come back to us.”

  Kneeling down, Hawkeye kissed her belly. In a soft whisper that Tatianna only heard because of her sharp elven ears. “Take care of your mother, son. She’s very important to both of us.”

  Standing up, he noticed the tears running down her cheeks. Reaching up, he wiped them dry. “Don’t cry my love. I will be back tomorrow night in plenty of time for dinner.”

  “I know. Just be careful. I have a bad feeling.”

  “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I do trust you. I just wish I could be with you.”

  “Get some rest. I will see both of you tomorrow night.” Giving her a farewell kiss, Hawkeye moved off into the forest.

  As Tatianna watched him disappear into the darkness, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. She trusted and believed in him, yet a feeling of dread clutched at her heart. Shaking her head to clear it of such negative thoughts, she turned toward the village and made her way slowly through the knee-deep snow.

  Chapter 19

  Moving slowly through the dark forest, Hawkeye covered only a few feet at a time. Hunched slightly over, he studied the ground. It was dark under the trees of the forest, yet enough moonlight shown through the branches to slightly illuminate the ground. It was enough to show Hawkeye that someone had passed this way recently. Their tracks in the snow, although they tried to smooth them out, were still visible to a skilled woodsman. Studying the surrounding forest with all of his senses, he followed the tracks slowly.

  For the better part of an hour, he moved through the forest with care. Soon his whole body was in pain. His back ached from being crouched over, his eyes hurt from straining to see, his ears throbbed from listening so hard, and his toes were numb from the cold. Smiling at the pain, Hawkeye stopped briefly and stretched. He could hear the bones in his back pop as they realigned themselves. Although he hurt, Hawkeye was glad for the pain. It told him he was doing everything right. As a veteran of many battles, he knew that many times pain was your only friend and it would keep him honest as long as he embraced pain instead of trying to avoid pain.

  Sniffing the air for clues, Hawkeye found none other than the wind coming from the north. Turning his attention back to the faint trail, he continued his pursuit. After another hour, he froze. Some sixth sense warned him of danger. It wasn’t anything he smelled, heard or saw; yet all of his senses working together warned him of danger. Not moving a muscle, Hawkeye carefully studied his surroundings. A moment later, a few inches from his right foot, he spied a small vine that looked slightly out of place; a trip wire.

  Glancing to his right and left, he noticed a small pile of wood chips at the base of a large pine. Frowning as he recognized the trap. The trip wire would release the severed tree to fall, right where he would be standing. It was a good trap but it was sloppy. The trip wire was too high off the ground to be invisible and the wood chips were a dead giveaway.

  Wondering who set it, Hawkeye readied his war club and eased himself into the shadow of a nearby tree. Then, he waited. A slight smile crossed his lips, as he heard his adopted father’s voice come back to him out of the past, ‘A patient hunter is a smart hunter. Remember; there are old hunters and bold hunters. But there are very few old, bold hunters.’

  Hawkeye didn’t have to wait long, no more than a quarter of an hour, before Red Ferret poked his head out of a nearby bush. He was only about twenty feet away from Hawkeye’s current position at the edge of a large clearing. Red Ferret quickly scanned the nearby underbrush. Not seeing Hawkeye, he moved slowly out of his hiding place. Taking great care not
to step into the center, he moved slowly around the clearing pausing several times at different places. Hawkeye guessed he was checking his traps.

  As Red Ferret approached the log trap nearby, Hawkeye forced himself to relax and to not look directly at the Fox chieftain. He knew that staring at someone many times gives the person an uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Out of the corner of his eyes, Hawkeye watched in grim fascination as Red Ferret checked his trap. It was not a simple log trap. No, the fox warlord had fixed the log with numerous pointed spikes. He was playing for keeps. A cold smile worked its way onto Hawkeye’s face. If that is the way he wants it, then that is the way we will play.

  Hawkeye waited until Red Ferret settled back in to his hide before creeping out of his concealment.

  The full moon was just reaching its zenith as Hawkeye crawled forward. Stepping over the clumsy trip wire, he moved toward the bush without making the slightest noise. The faint noise of regular breathing and a few muffled snores came from the bush. Hawkeye couldn’t believe his ears! Red Ferret was asleep! A wave of anger washed over him.

  ‘How could he sleep? Did he feel that safe behind his traps? What would he do during the coming war?’

  Putting away his war club, Hawkeye drew out his knife. The mirror finish reflected the glow of the moon as he debated the situation. He could easily reach in and cut Red Ferret’s throat before he could wake up and although death was frowned on by the challenger of the Tsanahwit, it was not unheard of either. Hawkeye would be in the right by killing one so derelict in his duties. As that thought crossed his mind, an even meaner and more malicious thought came to him.

  Reaching in slowly, Hawkeye carefully cut off one of Red Ferret’s long braids. Tucking the braid into his belt pouch, he slowly made his way out of the clearing. A broad smile crept over his face. Red Ferret was defeated and didn’t even know it. His humiliation would be more satisfying than actually defeating him in combat. Hawkeye couldn’t help but smile as he moved further away from the sleeping Fox Chieftain and deeper into the forest.

 

‹ Prev