Wolf Captured

by Jane Lindskold

  "Wait," Firekeeper said, for the tendril of worry had grown into an entire thicket. "What do you mean? What does say in the matter have to do with anything? I can see that the yarimaimalom would not like to have their shapes copied, but could they defy the spell? Beasts have never practiced magic."

  Integrity looked at her, real pity in her amber eyes.

  "I forget how much your people hate magic, Firekeeper. They hate it so much that they forget why."

  "Why we hate it?" Firekeeper retorted. "Because great magics were used to beat us back from our lands. Had humans not had great magic, we would have beaten them away. This would still be our land and the humans would remain in the Old Country."

  "Is that all they tell you, then?"

  Blind Seer replied, "That is what we have been told. There are little snippets here and there that hint at other reasons, but nothing that has been woven into a web."

  "Hold those snippets," Integrity said, "I would hear them later. First I must emphasize one point. The great magics were all cruel magics. Unlike the talents which are born into a person, the great magics stole power from other things."

  Firekeeper froze, not wanting to hear, knowing she must.

  "Firekeeper." Integrity said the name as if it was a charm, holding the wolf-woman with the command of her presence. "In the creation of a maimalodalu the yarimaimalo could fight the sorcerers, because in order to create a maimalodalu the animal—Wise or lesser—must die. Its soul is subsumed by the one who would become 'beast-souled.' That is where the fight occurred, between soul and soul. And Firekeeper, even if the yarimaimalo won and kept its soul, still it died."

  We need weapons," Waln said," and to get into practice with them."

  He had joined Rarby and Shelby down in the coolness of the interior courtyard. They were playing Navy versus Pirates again, but from what Waln had seen from the upper gallery, not even Shelby, who had drawn the pirates, seemed too keenly interested.

  At this time of day, none of them had lessons to teach. As the summer days had grown longer and hotter, the Liglimom had informed the northerners that a midday hiatus was customary.

  Waln had taken to the concept of a rest period with great enthusiasm. Even within the shaded gardens and the thick-walled buildings, sleep or quiet meditation seemed the most reasonable way to employ oneself. Even thinking seemed to take extra effort, but ever since Waln had toured the harbor with Shivadtmon the day before, his mind had been alive with possibilities.

  "Weapons?" Rarby echoed, setting down the miniature ship he had been about to move. "As in bows and swords and stuff?"

  "Maybe not those precisely," Waln said, "but the like. We'll definitely need bows."

  Shelby stretched lazily, popping the joints in his shoulders as he did so.

  "Slow down," he suggested, "and tell us what we're going to need weapons for."

  "You don't think," Waln said with a trace of sarcasm, "that the animals on Misheemnekuru are going to take our trespassing lightly, do you?"

  A few days before, Shelby might have looked at Waln like he was crazy, but freedom to roam around u-Seeheera and the public areas of Heeranenahalm had pretty much made certain that everyone would have encountered at least a few yarimaimalom. These moved about the city with the arrogance of spoiled pets, but there was that in their manner that made clear they belonged to no one but themselves.

  "You've a point," Shelby said without rancor. "Those won't be scared off by a few loud noises or a fire circle. I'm not sure… "

  Waln cut Shelby off before he could frame his thought. It was much easier to argue when the other party had not stated a position.

  "We have a tremendous advantage over these animals," he said, deliberately avoiding calling them either "Wise Beasts" or "yarimaimalom." "They've lived without being hunted since the plague years, when they made this deal with the locals. They may know about crossbows and such, but they've never had to deal with them. I figure a few shots home and they're going to be more scared of us than any dumb wild animal would be."

  "I don't quite get it," Rarby said. "Wouldn't they just figure out how the weapons work and stay out of range?"

  "Good for us if they do," Waln said. "Out of range is where we want them."

  Shelby didn't seem convinced.

  "I don't know," he said. "Why would they end up being more scared of us than a wild animal would? I've heard some stories about bears and boars and like that charging hunters. Don't boars attack even after they've been speared?"

  "They might," Waln said, deliberately shrugging this off, "but don't you see? That type of behavior is precisely because they're dumb animals."

  "What?" the brothers said, speaking almost as one.

  "Imagination," Waln said. "The same thing that's getting you into a twist right now. You're imagining what could happen. You're imagining dangers. That's good, because it lets us make our plans in advance."

  "Won't it be good for them, too?" Shelby said.

  Rarby chortled. "No, stupid, because they won't have time to plan. We're going in there armed for bear—or wolf or boar or whatever. We'll hit them hard, and while they're still trying to figure out what happened, we'll grab the treasure, hop a boat, and get out of there neat as can be."

  Shelby flared. "Don't call me stupid, Rarby. I may be younger than you, but I'm not stupid."

  Waln stepped in before fraternal bickering could ruin his presentation.

  "You're both right," he said firmly. "Rarby figures it like I do. Imagination is going to work against the animals. We'll have speed on our side, but, Shelby, you're right, too. We can't risk giving them time to work out plans and contingency plans and alliances and all."

  "Alliances?" Shelby frowned, and Waln gave himself a mental kick. "With the humans?"

  "Maybe," Waln said, "or with other animals. I don't know how they work things over there, but I get the impression that being smarter doesn't make them suddenly less animals. Those that need packs or herds continue to live that way. Those that are solitary by nature don't start liking crowds. But none of this will matter if we can work quickly. Fear will keep them back for a while, and while they're bickering, we'll finish up and be on our way."

  At that moment, the two brothers were all too aware of how even the closest associates can disagree, so neither pressed Waln.

  "You said practice," Rarby said, seizing on a nonconfrontational point. "We need weapons if we are to practice, right?"

  Waln nodded. "I think I can get us the basics. Yesterday, Shivadtmon told me something rather interesting."

  He gave them an edited version of his long discussion with Shivadtmon regarding vessels to carry them back north. He focused on the ships he'd seen and his own recommendations.

  "Shivadtmon seems inclined to listen to me," Waln said. "They're not accustomed to having enemies here, and I told him all about not only Bright Bay and Waterland, but pirates, too. Fayonejunjal carried weapons. It isn't going to be hard to convince Shivadtmon to make sure we have some, too. From there to pointing out that weapons are of little use unless you are in practice shouldn't be hard."

  Both Rarby and Shelby looked quite pleased at this, then Shelby frowned again. Waln swallowed a sigh. The brothers were the most inclined to use force of any of the shipwreck survivors. That had been why he'd chosen them to assist in taking Lady Blysse. Unfortunately, Shelby was a worrier.

  "We can't take a ship into those islands," he said. "And won't the humans wonder what we're doing if we take a smaller vessel and vanish for a couple days?"

  "I'm working on that," Waln promised. "I told Shivadtmon that several of you had expressed a desire to do a bit of sailing in the bay. He told me we'd be welcome to two or three of the vessels his temple keeps. I figure we start taking little jaunts right away. They'll get used to it. By the time we're ready to head for Misheemnekuru, I'll have figured out an excuse to cover our absence."

  Shelby still didn't look convinced, and Waln had to resist an urge to hit him.

 
"Anyhow," Waln said, "what will they do if we do disappear and they think we've landed on Misheemnekuru? From what I've heard, they're forbidden by treaty not only to land on the islands, but even to sail the inner waterways. Once we're in, they won't know for certain where we are."

  Unless the yarimaimalom tell them, Waln thought, and III be beggared if I volunteer that. I'm not even certain the animals could communicate something that complicated.

  Rarby, eager to show he was both game and smarter than his brother, spoke up.

  "We could tell them that we sailed a bit further south and had something break, that we had to go to shore to mend it. There are villages that way, but plenty of empty coast, too. When we come limping back all on our own, who's to say where we've been?"

  Maybe the animals, Waln thought, but I've said all I'm going to about them. Enough that I've introduced the idea that they need to get in practice with their weapons of choice. If these two agree, the others will follow.

  "Good idea," Waln said aloud. "I've been collecting what maps I can, and I'll look for one that gives details of the coast south of here. Maybe we'll even do a little scouting."

  Shelby brightened. "That's a good idea. Our original voyage was supposed to be one of exploration. We're just doing our job. That'll make those who are eager to send us home see we'll be happy to go."

  Waln nodded.

  "Now," he said, "if you're interested, let me show you a map I copied the other day. It shows the area I'm considering for our target."

  They unrolled the map on the table, weighing down the corners with bits from the Navy and Pirates set. A raven flying overhead dismissed their activity as just another game and flew off to enjoy how her sapphire-and-diamond pendant glittered in the afternoon sun.

  Derian woke early the next morning, but found the rest of Varjuna's household up before him.

  "We suggest you follow your usual routine," Zira said. "Take Prahini out, visit with a few people, be seen being as normal as possible."

  "That makes sense," Derian said.

  "And stop looking so worried," Zira scolded. "Glow."

  "Glow?"

  "Glow. Look happy. Look elevated. You're the crazy foreigner who kept sneaking off to look at the Wise Horses. You've been honored with yet another ride. You've been taken into their lands. Glow."

  "But don't gloat." Derian laughed, understanding. "I'm happy, thrilled, and honored, but not too full of myself."

  "Exactly."

  Derian paused, thoughtfully spreading honey on a thick slice of bread.

  "Actually that shouldn't be too hard," he said. "I am awed and honored. I'm just terrified about what comes with the honor. It reminds me of how I felt when King Tedric gave me the counselor's ring. Everyone around me was going on about the honor and all I could think of was the responsibility."

  Zira patted him on the shoulder. "You'll do just fine. Poshtuvanu said you two are scheduled for a Pellish lesson midmorning before the break. We're going to meet then and discuss matters further. Meiyal can't stay away from Heeranenahalm too much longer, but it makes sense that she not return until the cool of the day."

  When they met at midmorning, Derian was immediately certain that Varjuna and Meiyal had already been working on the problem. To those who had observed them, doubtless it had seemed that the iaridisdu was being given a slow and decorous tour of the new foals, but Derian had no doubt that the topics under discussion had been more than conformation and pedigree.

  Kept them in plain sight, he thought, and if Zira just happens to work with the foals and eliminate the need for anyone else to be in earshot most of the time, and if they look very serious—well, to horse breeders, foals are a serious matter.

  Now they retired to Varjuna's office once more, and Zira had made certain of their privacy by sending the servants home early for their midday break.

  "We have decided," Varjuna began, "that the best thing we could do is find outside confirmation for what Derian saw. This is not because we do not believe you, son," he said, seeing Derian begin to speak, "but because there will be those who will not be inclined to take the word of a foreigner—especially over that of one of u-Liall."

  "There's the problem of your hair as well," Meiyal said.

  "My hair?"

  "It is so red. You look to be a natural ally of Fire, and Fire and Water have always been rivals. Moreover, you came here in the company of one called 'the Firekeeper,' and though some have argued that this name portends a desire to control Fire, others say it indicates an alliance with that deity."

  Derian's head swam as he tried to twist his thoughts into this pattern, but he knew he had to try and see the world as these people did. Therefore, he didn't protest that this was all ridiculous, only nodded.

  "So we need confirmation," he said. "I wish I could identify someone other than Dantarahma. If I saw them again, I might be able to identify the man who helped him with the sacrifices, or the woman who relayed most of the victims to the top of the pyramid, but I can't be sure."

  "Nor will we rely on you for that," Varjuna said comfortingly. "We have some other avenues to investigate. One is the question of white animals. You said all the animals sacrificed were white?"

  Derian nodded.

  "Chickens and lambs are common enough, but a pure white dog, calf, or horse would have been harder to find. We can do some checking there, try to learn who made those purchases."

  Zira cleared her throat.

  "We can check the matter of the mare from two angles," she said. "There is a chance the poor animal was born in a stable supervised by our temple. Pure white horses that young are uncommon—the greys take time to fade. It is possible that even if the mare was born elsewhere, its owner offered it to the temple at some point."

  "I'm only guessing the mare was young," Derian reminded her anxiously.

  "You have a good eye for horseflesh," Zira said. "I'll take your word. If we trace the mare, then trace her ownership, we may find out something useful."

  "You do this, Zira," Meiyal said. "You handle many of our breeding projects, and it would not be unlikely if you or one of those who work with you were looking for a promising mare. We also need to check into who Dantarahma has been associating with of late. I can ask a few questions, but not too many."

  "Nor can I," Varjuna said. "Dantarahma has always preferred travel by boat whenever possible. We have little in common."

  "Why not," Derian asked hesitantly, "ask Rahniseeta, sister of Harjeedian, to see what she can learn? From what I can tell, she does a little bit of everything for many people, but because she isn't really anyone, no one notices her."

  Varjuna smiled. "That's a very good idea. I know she clerks at u-Nahal from time to time, and I've seen her helping set up for various festivals and ceremonies."

  Meiyal was a trifle less certain.

  "But she is associated with her brother, isn't she?"

  "True," Derian said, "but that's for the good. Harjeedian isn't likely to be on Dantarahma's side. He's put too much on the line with the trip north. That means it's unlikely that Rahniseeta is associated with them either."

  He remembered his own momentary suspicion of Harjeedian and put it from him. Harjeedian might be coolly practical, but he didn't seem like a heretic.

  "Anyhow," Derian went on, "if anyone thinks anything about Rahniseeta nosing around, they're going to figure she's trying to help her brother. My understanding is that the Temple of the Cold Bloods is standing firmly behind Harjeedian right now, but that doesn't mean there haven't been any rumbles of discontent."

  "You have a good point, there," Meiyal said. "I will ask a few discreet questions of my own. Harjeedian and Rahniseeta were among the few who knew where you were. If I find no evidence that they said anything out of line, then I shall call her to me."

  Meiyal gave a thin smile.

  "I understand the young woman writes a fine hand. Most assuredly, an old woman like myself can always use a scribe."

  How are you doing with
Waln Endbrook?" asked the master.

  "Very well, Master. He was quite excited by the news that a boat was being equipped for a possible voyage north. He has also showed an interest in obtaining weapons for his men, and in having opportunity for them to hone their skills. The excuse he gives is that the waters to the north are alive with pirates and raiders. I have pretended to agree, and have supplied them with weapons and ammunition. They also have repeatedly taken out a small sailing vessel. I am certain that this is to accustom those who live and work near the harbor to the sight so there will be no comment when they make their actual venture."

  "Have you found a way to suggest that they not go to Misheemnekuru until Lady Blysse returns?"

  "This is more difficult, Master," Shivadtmon said unhappily. "To do so, I would need to indicate that I am aware of what they plan. I have managed not to do so to this point."

  "The omens indicate that the time has come for you to break your reticence on this matter," the master said.

  "Master?" Shivadtmon was too obedient to question directly, but he made the single word express his doubts.

  "Do you fear that you would be committing sacrilege?" the master asked. He smiled gentle reassurance. "If so, then be at peace. The isolation of Misheemnekuru, its exclusive use by the yarimaimalom, was a secular arrangement, not a sacred one. Moreover, the yarimaimalom themselves have already broken the agreement."

  Shivadtmon was again the student showing his cleverness to the teacher.

  "By admitting Lady Blysse?"

  "That is right, by admitting Lady Blysse. No matter how some of the disdum choose to interpret her acceptance by the yarimaimalom, I analyze the matter with a mind unclouded by their wistful romanticism. Lady Blysse is a woman, nothing more. A woman with a strong rapport with wolves, yes, but her spirit dwells within a human body. She thinks with a human mind. Even her provenance is known. She is the child either of that northern prince or of one of his lackeys. There is no mystery about her. She is human. So I will argue before u-Liall, so I present the matter to you here. Do not fear you commit sacrilege in going to Misheemnekuru, for it is not a sacred place. Do not fear that your going will break the secular agreement, for the yarimaimalom themselves have already done so."