by A. Giannetti
“He is listening for the wolf,” thought Balbus sympathetically. “Perhaps it was pursuing him after all. In any case, I cannot stay here any longer,” he thought anxiously to himself as he noticed for the first time that the dim light under the trees was failing. “The day is waning and there are many miles to walk before I reach my home,” he thought to himself. “Better to take the boy there before the sun sets. There will be time enough to sort things out in the morning.”
He turned to Elerian, who was still resting quietly on his right arm. “Would you like to come home with old Balbus?” he asked gruffly. “You can stay with me just until we find your parents. I am sure they can’t be far away.” Balbus did not expect any answer from the boy and spoke only to reassure him, but Elerian paid no attention to his words. He still appeared to be listening intently.
“He is still worried about the wolf,” thought Balbus to himself. “The sooner I get him home the better for both of us.”
He was still lost, but he was not worried about finding his way back now that his staff appeared to be behaving normally again. Raising the walking stick in his right hand, he pictured his home in his mind and at once felt a reassuring tug on his fingers. Letting the staff pull him gently along, he set off through the forest at a brisk pace, for he had no idea how far he was from home. He was sure that he had traveled much deeper into the Abercius than was wise.
“I would not be at all surprised to learn that the boy’s parents have fallen victim to the Ondredon,” thought Balbus to himself as he strode along, for the mysterious creatures were still on his mind. “Somehow, the boy must have escaped their fate and run off on his own.”
Balbus sighed softly and pushed all the unanswered questions from his mind, setting himself instead to the business of reaching home as soon as possible. Carbo now ranged ahead as if he, too, was anxious to quit the forest as soon as possible. At that moment, a wolf yelped eagerly from no great distance behind them, and both Balbus and the boy started. Uneasily, Balbus looked at Carbo, for the dog was staring back over his shoulder and growling softly far back in his throat.
“It makes no sense for a wolf to be on our track,” he said softly in a puzzled voice, but he could no longer deny that they were being followed. From the apprehensive glances the boy was darting over Balbus’s shoulder, it seemed that he, too, expected the wolf to appear at any moment. His wiry body was tense, and he appeared ready to leap from Balbus’s arms at any moment.
Balbus hurried on, casting nervous glances all about him for some place where he might make a stand against the wolf if it appeared, but everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but tree trunks whose lower branches were all well out of his reach. Not a patch of sky was visible overhead, and an ominous silence filled all the air around Balbus. He wished that he could travel faster, but the going was even more difficult than before with the boy on his arm. Soon, he began to tire, and his arm ached from carrying the boy, light as he was.
Abruptly, Carbo, who was now following behind Balbus, stopped and turned, facing their back trail. All the long hairs on the back of his shaggy neck stood up into a stiff mane, and his thin black lips curled back to expose his long white fangs. A deep, bubbling growl welled up from his chest, startling Balbus and causing him to spin around just as two wolves, both of them fully as large as Carbo, came loping out from between the trees, barely ten yards away. Balbus’s heart sank at the sight of the second wolf. He and Carbo could have dealt with one animal, but two of them together presented a real threat. Worse yet, as Balbus got his first really good look at the approaching animals, he began to wonder if they were wolves at all. In the gloom under the trees, their eyes glowed like fiery coals, giving them an unearthly appearance, and their unusually long, coarse black fur stood stiffly on end, making them appear even larger than they actually were. They came to a stop about five yards away, and unexpectedly, the creature on the right opened its mouth and spoke in a deep, harsh voice.
“Give us the boy if you wish to leave the forest alive.”
TALKING WOLVES
Disbelief swept over Balbus. He felt as if he had risen from the depths of sleep to find himself still in the grip of some strange dream. He gaped at the wolf, unable to move or make any reply as his mind struggled to accept the fact that an animal had not only spoken to him but had also threatened his life. He would have been easy prey at that moment, as fear and consternation held him immobile; but even as the wolves prepared to spring on him, Carbo moved protectively in front of his master. Normally contemptuous of dogs, the wolves hesitated as they took in his great size and the spiked collar that guarded his neck. As they weighed their chances of bringing Carbo down without injury to themselves, Balbus suddenly stirred. The brief pause had given him enough time to recover his wits. He made no reply to the wolf’s command. Instead, in one quick motion, he set Elerian down behind him and straightening quickly, passed his staff to his left hand and drew his long knife with his right. Despite his age, he looked as tough as an old tree root, and there were knotted muscles in the hands which griped staff and knife. Growling in anger as the opportunity for an easy kill slipped away, the wolves glared at Balbus and Carbo with their flaming eyes. The looks they turned upon Carbo were especially filled with malice. In a coarse voice full of hard edges, the creature on the right suddenly spoke again.
“There is no need for us to fight. Give us the boy and you can walk away unharmed. You have my word that we will not pursue you.”
“Defy us and we will kill all three of you,” interjected the creature’s companion. It grinned horribly at Balbus, drawing back its thin black lips to expose an impressive set of ivory canines. Fear replaced Balbus’s initial shock at hearing the two wolves speak. A strong feeling swept over him that he was meddling in something that was far beyond his powers to deal with. He was uncertain as to whether it was a product of his own imagining or some sending from the frightening creature before him, but a vision of himself and Carbo, torn into red, bleeding pieces, suddenly filled his mind, the price of refusing the demand to surrender the boy.
“Leave the child and run!” whispered a shrill, panicked voice in the back of Balbus’s mind. “This is none of your affair! They will fall on the boy and you can escape with Carbo.”
Involuntarily, Balbus stole a look at Elerian standing behind him. His gray eyes were bright with fear, but he had not panicked and run away, despite the two fearsome beasts threatening them now. Resolutely, he stood just behind Balbus’s left leg, as if he, too, was awaiting Balbus’s answer. The sight of the boy’s courage banished some of Balbus’s fear, and he was suddenly able to think clearly again. He gave the coal black creatures in front of him a hard look, and it struck him that they seemed to exude wickedness and malice. Suddenly, he perceived their plan as plainly as if they had spoken it to him. “Even if I could sink so low as to give them the boy,” thought Balbus to himself, “I would not profit from it. Once they work their murderous will on the boy, they will follow me. In some lonely place where they have the advantage, they will kill me and Carbo.”
“Decide now,” growled the first creature impatiently, causing Balbus to start.
Balbus was still filled with a terrible fear, and his legs trembled beneath him, but he had made up his mind. “Return to whatever black pit you crawled from,” he replied, his voice sounding weak and unconvincing even to his own ears. “You shall not have the boy while I live.”
“Die then,” said the creature scornfully. He and his companion separated and began creeping toward Balbus at an angle from two sides, heads down, long guard hairs bristling so that they seemed twice as large as before. Their black lips were drawn back now, exposing their gleaming teeth and growls rumbled deep in their chests. Most unsettling of all to Balbus were their eyes which glowed with a baleful, red fire. Fear dried his mouth so that he could no longer swallow, but still Balbus refused to break and run. Carbo remained stubbornly crouched down before him, ready to spring at any moment.
“I sme
ll your fear,” snarled the wolf on the left. “Run now or your screams will fill the forest as we slowly strip the living flesh from your bones.”
His eyes bright with fear, Balbus continued to stand firm, and the wolves growled in disappointment. Despite their fierce words, as Balbus had correctly guessed, they would have preferred to avoid a direct confrontation. Had Balbus panicked and run as they wished, they would have killed the boy first and then pulled down the man and his dog one at a time.
Seeing that there was nothing to be gained by delaying any longer, some unseen signal seemed to pass between the two wolves, and they lunged forward. Without hesitation, Carbo sprang to meet them. As they closed on him, he struck the animal on his left with his shoulder, his great weight thrusting the creature off its feet. Spinning lightly to the right on his hind legs, Carbo caught the second wolf by the right hind leg as it leaped past him in an effort to get at Balbus and the boy. Keeping a firm grip with his jaws, Carbo dragged it to the ground, but before he could follow up his advantage, the wolf he had swept off its feet regained its footing, and moving with an unnatural swiftness, attacked his unprotected right side. Carbo’s collar saved his life then, for when the wolf first tried to grip his throat where the great arteries carried his life’s blood close beneath the skin, the sharpened spikes embedded in Carbo’s collar tore bitter wounds in the soft flesh of its mouth, and black blood flowed from its torn jaws. Giving up the attack on Carbo’s throat, the wolf slashed his side instead, slicing deep with its long fangs an instant before Carbo spun around to confront it. Growling horribly, they rose up on their hind legs, their snapping jaws clashing together while they raked each other with the claws on their strong front paws.
Seeing Carbo’s flanks exposed and unprotected, the fallen wolf regained its feet and stealthily sought to attack Carbo from behind. With a great shout to draw its attention, Balbus bravely rushed at the creature. Foiled in its cowardly attack on Carbo, it turned and lunged at Balbus instead. As it sprang at his throat, Balbus thrust his walking stick crosswise between its gaping jaws with his left hand and stabbed it deep in the chest with the long knife he held in his right hand. Despite the wound, the wolf strained powerfully against the staff, grinding its sharp teeth deep into the hard wood in its rage. It finally succeeded in tearing the stick from Balbus’s hand, but Balbus struck again with his knife, and this time, the cold steel of his long blade pierced the animal’s heart. It fell dead at his feet, his walking stick still firmly clenched between its jaws.
Carbo, in the meantime, had succeeded in closing his powerful jaws on the other wolf’s throat and was squeezing the life out of it. It screamed desperately, in almost human tones, as Carbo gave a final shake of his powerful jaws, breaking its neck. Carbo released his hold, and the wolf dropped to the ground in a limp heap and did not stir again.
“Well done Carbo,” shouted Balbus joyfully, for he could scarcely believe that he and Carbo were both still alive. His joy was short lived, however, for Carbo suddenly fell heavily onto his right side. Balbus cried out and rushed to kneel by Carbo’s side. Turning the dog over, he saw for the first time that one of the wolves had torn him open from shoulder to paunch with its deadly fangs. The wound was deep and blood was flowing steadily from its entire length, staining Carbo’s black fur and soaking into the thick layer of brown leaves that covered the ground beneath him. Helplessly, Balbus stroked Carbo’s head, and the great dog stared up at him sadly, the light of life already starting to fade from his bright eyes.
A DISTURBING DISCOVERY
Tears stung Balbus’s eyes as he realized Carbo was dying and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. “I should never have come into the forest today,” thought Balbus in despair as he stroked Carbo’s sleek head, waiting for the inevitable moment when death claimed his brave companion. He barely noticed, at first, that Elerian was attempting to push him aside with his small hands. In the heat of the battle and the grief which followed, he had momentarily forgotten about the child he and Carbo had saved from the wolves.
Balbus finally moved a little to one side, thinking that perhaps the boy was also distressed by Carbo’s impending death. “There is nothing we can do for him, Elerian,” he said gruffly as the boy knelt beside him; and futilely, Balbus thought, pulled the edges of the wound together with his small, slender fingers. At first, red blood continued to well up between his fingers, but then, to Balbus’s astonishment, the crimson flow diminished and then ceased altogether as the torn edges of the wound began to knit together before his incredulous eyes. While the wound healed, Elerian remained motionless with his hands on Carbo’s side, a distant look in his gray eyes. At the sight of Carbo’s injury, without understanding why, he had felt impelled to push Balbus aside and grasp the edges of Carbo’s torn flesh. Something had flowed out of him then, in a warm rush that swept away his awareness. He remained lost in the healing process until all that remained of Carbo’s terrible injury was a long, pink trail of new skin, winding its way from shoulder to stomach through Carbo’s black, bloodstained fur. Then, still unaware of his surroundings, Elerian fell over onto his right side and lay without moving.
For a second time, Balbus felt his heart lurch. “The boy has harmed himself in saving Carbo,” was his first panicked thought. Quickly, he turned Elerian onto his back. The boy’s eyes were closed, but Balbus was heartily relieved to find that his breathing, though faint, was steady and regular. “Poor child,” thought Balbus to himself. “The effort of healing Carbo must have over taxed his strength and caused him to feint. He was likely already exhausted from his flight from the wolves.”
Rising to his feet, Balbus pulled off his tunic, and after folding it, set it under Elerian’s head like a pillow. After arranging the boy’s limbs in a comfortable position, he turned back to Carbo and was both pleased and surprised to find that his companion was already sitting up, weak but otherwise giving the appearance of being completely healed of his deadly wound.
Overwhelmed by his exertions and the strange events he had witnessed, Balbus sank down and sat on the ground next to Carbo. The odd behavior of his staff, finding Elerian in the middle of the forest, the encounter with the wolves, and now, this amazing display of healing, all left him feeling that he was caught in the middle of some strange dream from which he would awaken at any moment. Carefully, he pinched his right thigh hard between his powerful thumb and forefinger.
“Ouch!” Balbus exclaimed as real, honest pain shot through his leg. “Well, I am most certainly not dreaming,” he said to Carbo as he ruefully rubbed his leg. Carbo cocked his head to one side and gave Balbus an inquiring look, as if puzzled by the odd antics of his master. Aside from a great weakness, he felt quite himself again.
Satisfied that he was truly awake, Balbus turned once more toward the sleeping boy. He was accustomed to small magics like the spell residing in his staff, but the power Elerian had demonstrated in healing Carbo was frightening. Without any conscious effort on his part, old stories of men turned into beasts and worse by evil mages came to mind, and he began to fear the boy almost as much as he had the wolves.
“Leave him,” whispered that part of him which was frightened by the boy’s power. “His own people will come for him, and even if they do not, you have already done more than enough by risking your life to save him from the wolves. You have no guarantee of his goodwill, and by some sudden fit of anger or sheer carelessness, he may work some evil or even fatal spell on you if you take him with you.”
For a long moment, Balbus looked thoughtfully at the small form of the boy lying helpless and unaware on the ground. As the cautious, fearful part of his mind had suggested, he could slip away now, unseen, and his part in this disturbing affair would be ended. It was a tempting thought, for the danger presented by the boy’s power was very real. Then, like a ray of bright sunshine cutting through the dark clouds of his fears, Balbus recalled the boy’s direct gray eyes and heard an echo of his clear laughter.
“I cannot believe there is
any harm in this child,” he suddenly said aloud. “He risked himself to heal Carbo without being asked. If I left him here to face the forest alone, his face and his fate would haunt me for the rest of my life.”
Carbo raised himself up then and laid his head on Balbus’s left knee. Minding the nails in his collar, some of them still stained with black blood, Balbus stroked his sleek head for a moment as he contemplated the unconscious boy.
“What are we to do now, Carbo?” Balbus asked wearily. “I cannot leave him here, but there may be more trouble to come if we take him with us. It may be more than I can deal with. I am just an old man, and already, in this one afternoon, I have had enough excitement and danger to last me for the rest of my life.” He looked at the dead wolves and shuddered. Balbus was certain their glowing red eyes would disturb his dreams for years to come.
Carbo looked up at Balbus with eyes that were full of life once more and gave one short, sharp bark.
“You say not to worry,” said Balbus with a sudden smile. “Well then, let us take him home. I do hope, though, that he does not turn us into badgers or worse in some fit of anger. If he does, it will be your fault,” he said shaking a finger in mock severity at Carbo.
Carbo barked again and wagged his tail, as if the possibility of being wrong about Elerian did not worry him at all. Balbus scratched Carbo’s ears and setting his misgivings aside, rose stiffly to his feet. He contemplated the bodies of the two wolves. Lying in the stillness of death, the creatures looked ordinary enough except for their coarse black fur and great size. Balbus still found it difficult to believe that they had spoken to him. He had heard fanciful stories about talking animals since he was a small child, but he had never expected to meet such a creature in real life. He fervently hoped that he would never meet another one