by Rose Estes
“Hornsbuck!” he called in a low tone. Hornsbuck whirled, drawing his sword in a harsh clang of steel.
“Mika!” he said in wonderment, then a scowl creased his face and he frowned at Mika suspiciously.
“What be you doing here, hiding under this big tree like a rabbit?”
“Come out of the rain, Hornsbuck. We can talk in here. Come on!” he urged as rain pelted down his face.
Mika pulled his head in and added several sticks to the fire. He was glad to see that Hornsbuck was still alive, but he was in no mood for the man’s militaristic drivel. Personally, Mika saw no sense in wandering around a wet forest thick with gnolls when it was possible to be dry and safe.
“Where are you?” Hornsbuck roared in a loud whisper as he plowed straight into the dense foliage, showering those inside with moisture and causing the fire to hiss and sputter.
“Hornsbuck! Down!” Mika commanded, tugging on the man’s soggy breechclout, forcing him to his knees.
“Eh? Oh!” said Hornsbuck as he parted the branches and looked down into the warm dry interior of the tree. “Tree, eh?” he said with great insight. “Pretty smart. Dry too. Smelled the smoke. Couldn’t see it, but smelled it. Knew someone was around. Have you seen any gnolls?”
“Come inside, Hornsbuck,” Mika said impatiently as wind gusted through the open branches, spread wide by Hornsbuck’s broad bulk. RedTail needed no further urging. He entered, touched noses with TamTur, and was immediately busy sniffing Tam’s wounds.
“Glad there’s a fire,” grunted Hornsbuck as he squeezed through and walked in to where Mika sat at the base of the trunk.
He sank to a seated position in front of the small blaze and sat there steaming like some giant semi-tamed bear, his great bulk seeming to fill the interior, making the space small with his huge presence.
“Where’s Recknass?” he asked suddenly, peering around him as though he might somehow have overlooked the giant.
“Dead,” said Mika, and he quickly told Hornsbuck all that had transpired since they had parted. Hornsbuck looked puzzled.
“Why would they have killed each other?” pondered Hornsbuck. “Did you have anything to do with it?”
“Me? I’ve told you everything,” Mika said indignantly. “In fact, I expect it was one of them who hit me on the head. And now I’m stuck nursemaiding the princess all day!”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re not out hunting gnolls. Wondered about that,” muttered Hornsbuck. “But I can see as how you’d have to stay here with her. I hate gnolls!” And he spat a stream of brown tobacco juice toward the princess as though to add emphasis to his hatred.
“Uh, Hornsbuck, not in here,” Mika said with distaste.
“Women,” sighed Hornsbuck. “They’re a problem even when they ain’t yapping.” And he leaned over and wiped the ugly brown stain that was spreading across what remained of the princess’s dress with his ham-sized fist. He only made it worse.
“Well, maybe she won’t notice,” he said, wiping his hand on the front of his tunic. “Maybe she won’t ever wake up!” he added, the idea obviously much to his liking. “Then we could just leave her here and be on our way.”
“Neither Enor nor the Guild would approve,” said Mika. “And besides, Tam is injured and needs to rest.”
“You’re right,” said Hornsbuck. “What’s a nomad without his wolf? But Tam should be up and about in a day or so, nothing to really fuss about, just a few hyena bites. It’s just that I get crazy sitting around doing nothing. Don’t suppose you’ve got anything to eat? I’m starved. Damn gnolls got my horse and all my provisions, too.”
Mika poured a generous portion of the dried mixture into his boot, added water, and set it over the fire once more. If Hornsbuck saw anything strange about cooking in the boot, he said nothing about it while gobbling the hot concoction.
“Not half bad, this,” he said, gesturing at the stew with his food-smeared fingers. “Be better with beans, though.” Then, spraying food in all directions, he told his tale.
“Separated from the rest of the men, just like we decided. Took Klaren and Meno with me. They both got themselves killed.
“Klaren got pulled from his horse by a troll and Meno took a gnoll’s pikestaff in the chest. Their wolves stuck by ‘em till the end, then they got cornered by a pack of hyenadons. RedTail and I tried to help, but it was hopeless. The only thing we could do was try to save ourselves. Damn shame about Klaren. He was a good man.
“We got to the rendezvous point and waited, but nobody showed up, ‘cept some gnolls. So we left. My guess is that everyone is scattered from here to
Eru-Tovar and gone. We’ll just have to make it on our own.”
“But how are we going to do that if the woods are crawling with gnolls and trolls and hyenas?” asked Mika. Then, seeing Hornsbuck casting a critical eye on him, he hastened to explain.
“I mean, I’d like nothing more than the chance to kill some more of those filthy creatures, that’s for sure, but there is the princess to think of. She’s still my first concern. I know that Enor will expect me to deliver her safely to the city, so I mustn’t think about myself and what I’d do if I were alone. Too bad, really. The two of us could see to it that there were fewer gnolls in the world,” Mika said with a sad sigh.
“I know, lad,” said Hornsbuck, patting Mika on the back. “I don’t like seeing them murder my men and get away with it, but you’re right about the princess. We’ve got to see to her first. Once she’s taken care of, we can find a few gnolls and show them how we feel about their kind.”
Not if I can help it, thought Mika as he tried to look as though he agreed with the older man.
“But how do we get her to Eru-Tovar safely?” asked Mika. “The gnolls will surely find us before we reach the city.”
“I know a way,” said Hornsbuck. “But we’ll need some food. We’ll have to kill the roan.”
“No!” blurted Mika, unwilling to sacrifice the horse to Hornsbuck’s great undiscriminating belly. “We’ll find something else. What is your plan?”
Hornsbuck’s green eyes pierced Mika and stared at him intently. “I’ll show you when the time comes,” he said slowly. “It’s a lost way, a path I have kept secret these many years. You must promise me not to tell anyone once I show you.”
“All right,” agreed Mika, not really caring, so long as it was safe and free of gnolls.
The next few days passed slowly. Very slowly. Hornsbuck ate what little wild stuff they were able to gather, tossed knucklebones, hawked, spat, cursed, belched, farted, and made other obnoxious and rude noises. Smart and wily he might be in the ways of survival, but the man’s social graces were all but nonexistent. Mika had never quite noticed before what a coarse brute Hornsbuck was, but then he had never been thrown so intimately into his company before.
The man was addled from war-lust and if insufferable when awake, he was only slightly less noisy when asleep. Never had Mika so missed or so appreciated Celia and the company of women. Wedged in one small corner between Tam and the princess, Mika read his book of spells out of sheer despair, in an attempt to separate himself from Hornsbuck’s endless, mindless commentary.
As he read, a plan began to take shape in Mika’s mind, a dangerous, yet wonderful plan.
Chapter 17
TWO DAYS HAD PASSED, and Tam was well, or nearly so. His wounds had healed enough so that he was able to walk and run without difficulty or pain.
The princess lay across one side of the tree space, and most of Mika and Hornsbuck’s possessions were hung from various portions of her anatomy. In her inert state, she had taken on the air of a seldom used and rather unnecessary piece of furniture.
Hornsbuck fretted about food. He and RedTail had ventured out the previous night, hoping to return with a deer or, at the least, rabbits. But they had found nothing but gnolls, which they had killed.
Mika rose and, holding his book casually, said, “Tam and I will go out and look for deer. It will d
o Tam good to stretch his legs.”
“Be careful,” growled Hornsbuck. “Take my bow and arrows.”
“No. I have everything I need,” said Mika, leaving quickly before Hornsbuck could question him.
The night was cool and the air fresh and heavy with the aroma of wet evergreens. He checked on the roan, watering him and moving him to yet another small patch of grass, grateful the horse had escaped the notice of the gnolls.
Standing in the center of the small clearing, Mika shed his few bits of clothing and stood full in the light of the moon. Opening his book of spells he turned to the appropriate page and thanked the dullness that Hornsbuck had brought into his life, which had forced him to study the spells.
He wedged the book firmly into the notch of a tree and then, confident of his skills, sank into a cross-legged position and faced Tam.
Slowly, deliberately, with great precision and careful enunciation, he stared into Tam’s eyes, while holding the end of his tail, and recited the words of the spell. There would be no mistake this time.
Once again he felt the strange, whirling dizziness, the nausea, and the sour taste of bile at the back of his throat. Tam’s eyes blurred and multiplied, and in spite of himself, Mika closed his eyes. When he opened them, everything was different. It had worked. He was a wolf!
Joy spread throughout his body. His new, strange body. He had done it! He had succeeded! He stood erect, his sensitive nostrils quivering. He realized now for the first time how very little man knew compared to wolves. He smelled the clear, sharp, wet smell of water, the green growing scent of trees and grass, the hot, sweet aroma of horse flesh. He lifted his head and drew in the foul distant stink of gnolls and the carrion stench of the hyenas. He threw back his head and howled for the sheer ecstasy of it, the sound issuing from his throat in tight rippling waves. Tam threw back his own head and they sang together of the joy of brotherhood and the goodness of life.
They looked at each other out of wolf eyes, now well and truly brothers. Their long tongues lolled from the corners of their mouths, and Mika knew that such a gesture was indeed a laughing grin as he had always suspected.
Standing, the two wolves sniffed each other from head to tail, spending much time scenting each others genitals, for as Mika discovered, there was much information to be learned there. In some indescribable way, it told of the personal strength of the animal and his position among others of his kind. Mika learned that Tam was a wolf of power and high standing among others.
Mika wagged his tail, feeling it beat back and forth through the air. Curling it high above his back, he turned and trotted off into the forest, knowing without looking that Tam was close behind.
The woods were alive with sound. Tiny squeaks told of frightened mice leaping for the safety of their burrows, rabbits bounding swiftly away, their broad flat feet pounding against the soft debris of the forest floor, and even the smooth slither of a night-hunting snake. Mika’s ears swiveled back and forth as he ran, catching the most subtle of sounds.
Mika’s muscles moved smoothly under his thick black pelt, his heart pumped strongly, and he ran more swiftly than he had ever imagined possible with little or no effort. And he felt pity in his wolf heart for the weakling that was man.
Later, as the moon rose higher in the dark starry sky, they scented a roanbuck, the rank bitter smell declaring that it was a full-grown stag. They paused and looked at each other, staring deep into each other’s golden eyes, silently reading the challenge, considering, deciding.
They lifted their muzzles and drank in the bitter odor, finding the specific thread of it in the air, separating it from the myriad of others and reading it like a map. Absorbing the knowledge, they turned and followed the musk deeper into the forest.
The partial moon had nearly reached its zenith before they tracked the scent to its source. The stag loomed large before them, full-grown, immense, powerful and wise. Its wide, sharp-tipped rack of antlers, capable of disemboweling an incautious wolf, were silhouetted against the night sky.
The stag pranced lightly, shaking its head up and down, snorting its contempt, brandishing its horns in their faces. Its dark eyes reflected no fear, only hatred, as it faced the ancient enemy.
The stag picked his ground carefully, a high knoll that rose improbably inside a tall circle of sablewood trees. The grassy mound was twined with intermeshing circles of mushrooms, their earthy redolence filling the air as the stag crushed them underfoot with its sharp hooves.
Mika lowered his head and slunk forward, circling the stag and forcing it to turn to keep him in sight. He felt his dewlaps twitch as he drew his lips back in a snarling grin, exposing his long, sharp canines. He inhaled the thick muskiness of the stag through mouth and nostrils, drawing it across his tongue, tasting the essence of it. He salivated and felt the thick moisture roll off his tongue.
The grass was cool and slick beneath his paws, and he circled steadily, rushing in, in false feints, forcing the stag to respond, to thunder down from its knoll, waving its antlers in Mika’s face.
Mika leaped aside with ease, feeling the strength of his new body and the power in his legs. He dodged in under the great tines and nipped at the soft underbelly, causing the stag to swing its hindquarters downhill. Instantly, Mika leaped up, high on the stag’s neck, behind the threatening horns, and slashed down with his teeth. The stag bellowed, more in anger than pain, and whirled about to menace the wolf that was no longer there.
Mika, bold with daring, dashed forward and ripped at the fat belly again, sinking his teeth into the smooth hide and using his weight to pull down, opening the wound. Letting go, he dropped to the ground and rolled, rising to his feet unharmed.
Mika and TamTur worked the stag between them, inflicting small wounds that bled, till the proud animal stood with its head bowed, its hide streaming with dark blood, and its breath coming in wheezing gasps. They allowed it no chance to rest.
Now, the element of fun vanished, the wolves filled with deadly intent. The salty iron tang of blood tainted the air and coated the wolves’ tongues, acting as a powerful stimulant. A primitive compulsion thrummed in Mika’s brain, entreating, urging, demanding blood.
Messages, all unspoken, but yet heard and obeyed, flooded into Mika’s subconscious, telling him what to do. He darted, he feinted, he baited, he bit.
Then, the moment was at hand, the moment when all the right elements came together. Tam leaped, flinging himself directly at the stag, and sank his teeth into the fleshy lips, curling his body up into a tight ball to present no target for the plunging horns and slashing hooves.
The stag bellowed in pain, shaking its head from side to side and up and down in an attempt to dislodge the wolf. Tam clung ever tighter, using his weight to inflict as much damage and pain as possible.
The stag screamed, a high-pitched strangled sound, and lifted its head high, trying to shake Tam loose. Mika, who had been waiting for just such a moment, flung himself upward, seized the stag’s throat between his jaws, and bit down with all his strength.
The stag shrieked, blood burbling thickly in its throat, even as it flowed into Mika’s. Mika clung until he felt the great beast shudder and stumble off balance. Only then did he release his hold.
The stag foundered, its knees buckling beneath it as the blood poured from its mangled mouth and spurted from the ruptured arteries in thick gouts. It attempted to rise and failed.
Tam and Mika were on the stag before it crashed to the ground, ripping, slashing, tearing into the still-living flesh.
They ate their fill of the sweet, hot meat, wrenching off great chunks and gulping them down whole till their sides bulged and they could hold no more.
They lapped the thick, salty blood and lay swollen and sated in the middle of the bloody carnage.
Mika was exhausted but filled with a sense of satisfaction. He and Tam looked at each other, and Mika felt love swell in his breast for the creature who was now his brother in truth. He knew that they were truly k
in after this night, their bond greater than any shared by wolf and man. Tam looked into his eyes and laughed, tongue lolling, as though to say, “You see what you have missed all these years?” And Mika could not but agree.
They were cleaning the blood off their pelts when they heard the first yapping hyena howl. They leaped to their feet and listened carefully, pinpointing both the direction and the distance.
Taking hold of the stag, they began to drag it back toward camp, hoping that they could reach it in time, knowing that there were too many of the dangerous enemy to fight them off.
They were better than halfway back when Mika felt the peculiar tingling which he now recognized as the onset of the end of the spell. He sat down on his haunches and waited, realizing that it might be easier to carry the stag in his human form, and glad that he was on the ground and not in mid-air.
The transformation was less traumatic than the first time, since he now knew what to expect. He shivered and rubbed his hands over his arms as the cold night air raised bumps on his chilled flesh.
Tam stared at him with amusement and perhaps just a touch of pity.
“All right, all right,” said Mika, “but at least I can carry the damn thing instead of dragging it in my teeth. So be quiet and let’s get out of here!”
He heaved the stag to his shoulder, staggering under the great weight. Blood dripped down his chest and back, no longer raising the same emotions it had evoked when he was still a wolf.
Mika also regretted loss of the ease with which he had traversed the forest earlier, trudging along heavily over ground he had covered so effortlessly only a short time before.
They reached the spot where he had left his clothes and he changed into them quickly, also retrieving the precious book. The howls of the hyenas had faded into the distance and he wondered if they had perhaps found some other prey.
Shouldering the stag once more, he and Tam made their way back to the spruce. He paused outside, inhaling the cold night air, more than a little reluctant to enter, to rejoin the race of man, to let go of what he had been privileged to share with Tam if only for a short time.