Call of the Wolf (The Kohrinju Tai Saga)

by Nelson, J P

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  A few months later I walked out of the southeastern side of the Kohntia Mountains and looked upon the country of Karlay. It was a land of hills, broken rock, swamps, hot springs, healing herbs and lavender roses. There was also some really good farming country scattered about and the ocean port-town of Swatlo. Taking my time, I finally found my way to the village of Elsa where I camped outside of for a few days. Aside from Edgar, it had been a while since I had been around people, and I was uneasy.

  Wanting to eat a meal I didn’t have to kill first, I finally went in and had a drink at the one tavern and listened to see what languages were spoken. I picked up on some Vedoic, but the common tongue was different from anything I had yet heard, so I did some signing without being too obvious and listened and *Learned* in the Bardic Way. These people weren’t very educated, but I didn’t hold that against them. My money was good and I was clean and neat, so I didn’t come across to the locals as a vagrant.

  After a few trips into town I had a thorough working control of the language, when I walked out of the eating house and caught sight of a man bullying a young boy and almost teenage girl on a wagon. I had seen the youngsters before and they seemed good enough, courteous, and not unruly as so many in Dahruban seemed to be. They came to the village, purchased supplies, and left.

  This fellow had some rather indecent things to say to the young lady, and I didn’t like it.

  “If’n your pap can’t pay, I want my comings in other ways …” And then he grabbed her arm

  “What is the problem?” I asked as I walked over with a straw of hay in my mouth.

  Looking to me offhand he ordered me, “To your own way with you, rascal. I’ve no talk for a pilgrim.”

  “I work for the family, old dad, and you’ll direct no indecencies at the young miss. And if you don’t take your hand off of her, you will indeed lose it.”

  The fellow turned to the girl, let go of her arm, and attempted to snap an angry sucker-pass of the fist at me. I just sidestepped him and let him fall. A couple of folk had taken time to stop and look, and this was a village where most folk must know everyone.

  Mr. Clumsy got up with anger and I said, “You shouldn’t drink this early in the day, what with so much work to do and all.”

  He swung at me again, a most clumsy pass to be sure. As I ducked under and stepped aside, he fell over again. It was then he pulled a long, curved blade which had long since seen its best days. With a gasp from the young miss on the wagon and a squeal from a lady on the walk, the man of the tavern stepped out with a club and someone yelled at me, “That’s Courtney Zayne, mister. You better to watch out.”

  The man lunged at me and I sidestepped, whipped my own long-blade and beat his aside, breaking it with a second engagement. Then I swept him off of his feet and pointed my sword-tip in between his teeth. “Like I said,” I remarked most casually, “I won’t have any indecencies directed at the young miss. Am I clear in my declaration, or do I need to press the point forward more clearly?”

  Nobody knew me, except to come in and buy a meal or a mug, and this fellow had only my razor sharp sword point in between his teeth to consider. His eyes were wild and I suspected he had never been on that end of the dirk before. He nodded and I stepped back to let him up. Touching his tongue for damage, Courtney Zayne jumped up and looked at me with hatred.

  “How much?” I asked in their local tongue, down to the distinctly southern, Karlay accent.

  “What?”

  “I said, how much. Are you as daft as you are clumsy?”

  Suddenly I heard the twitter of a giggle in the background. Apparently this buffoon had had this coming for a long time. ‘Please,’ I thought, ‘don’t tell me this is the tough of the town. He wouldn’t last the day on the streets of Stafford.’

  “How much, what?”

  “How much are you owed? Speak quick, we are all to hear.”

  He thought and then looked from side to side down the street, at least a dozen people were listening. “Twen - twenty shads.”

  I asked aloud, “How much is that in Crowns, does anybody know?”

  The man of the tavern asked with his club still in hand, “Would that be Dahruban-pressed Crowns?”

  “It would be.”

  “That would be two hundred Dahruban Crowns, and just a mite of silver on the exchange.”

  I opened my belt-pouch and counted out a few gold coins, and then I tossed them onto the dirt in front of Courtney Zayne. I said calmly and without emotion, “You bother that girl or boy again and I’ll kill you on sight. Now gather your tender and get.” Part of me wanted to turn my back on him, but that would be inviting and I wanted to kill no more. It would happen, I was sure, but I didn’t want it. But I didn’t want him bothering these kids even more.

  He left sputtering and muttering indignities and I turned to the kids on the wagon, “Are you okay?”

  The girl looked at me and nervously nodded her head. She had spirit, that one did. But the boy looked at me and said, “But sir, you don’t work for my pap. He’s out to fishin’ an’ we don’t got no money.”

  “Can I have one of those jelly beans?”

  He had four jellybeans in his hand, and some would say I was cruel to ask for one. But I can’t think of a time too early to learn to pay one’s way. Besides, I had never had a jellybean. That boy nodded and handed me one, and that’s how I went to work for a fisherman and his family.

  I rode home on the back of the wagon with Hannah on the bench and Haskle beside me, and they told me something about their family and place. Hannah was twelve and Haskle was a solid eight and a half years old. A four year old brother was at home, as well as a one year old sister. Their pap’s name was Wilfred and their mam was Mohndi, and mam made the best griddlecakes in the whole world, especially when you poured honey and butter all over them. It reminded me of my own momma, whose griddlecakes I was sure were better, but why argue the point with my new employer?

  The village of Elsa was mostly a farming village. On down the coastline to the east were a couple of fishing villages, but Wilfred had found his own small location and built his own dock. Long before he took Mohndi to wife he had started his fishing business and had done well.

  Used to be, Wilfred had a full crew and his hauls were very good. But with the changing of tides, the seasonal differences and what not, the fishing had changed and he was having a hard time finding his livelihood. Trouble was, lots of the fishing boats were having trouble and the state of things around and about was in a downhill spiral.

  As a result Wilfred had gone into debt and could no longer handle more than two crewmen, and that was a nephew and an older fellow who was slow in the mind. The string of credit was long in the village, and he had been forced to borrow money from Courtney Zayne, who wanted the home place badly.

  No one liked Courtney Zayne or his family, who had moved into the territory only a couple of years prior, and they were starting to hassle several of the landholders. To this I gave some quiet thoughts. I decided that I would make this family my mission, at least for the time, and do what I could to help them and see about this troublesome clan of Courtney Zayne’s.

  Mohndi came to meet us, and right off I saw she made Wilfred a lucky man. The children right away told of the events at the village as I helped unload the wagon. Her voice was pleasant but her character strong as she said, “My sir, I don’t know how to repay you. Might I at least ask of you your name.”

  “You may call me Wolf, ma’am, I am called Timber Wolf.”

  An eyebrow raised, as men calling themselves by animal names was most uncommon in those parts.

  “I would be obliged to stay in the stable ma’am. And the boy and I have an understanding.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Haskle said jubilantly, “I paid him a jelly bean for a week’s work with lodging and meal.”

  Looking about I could quickly see several chores that needed to be done, and I said as much, pointing out so
me fencing, a few repairs to the barn roof, several rows of vegetables which could use some help, and a busted wheelbarrow. She was careful, and I don’t blame her, and her eyes lingered on my sword and bow.

  Chewing her jaw, I thought of Hoscoe, but after weighing things carefully in her mind, with the help of the children, she conceded to my use of the barn loft and doing chores … at least until her husband came home. Payment would have to be determined by he, who should return any day now. I was welcome, however, to take meals in the house. She indicated the meat was running low so I took my bow and went hunting

  I came back in with two Red Pheasants, common to southern Karlay, each weighing around ten pounds dressed out and mighty good eating.

  When we had supper that night, we fixed our plates and then I took a big bite out of a fried Pheasant drumstick. The children all looked at me strangely, and then the three of them joined hands. I sat there with a mouth full of drumstick and wondered what to do. They bowed their heads, something I had never seen done before at a table, and Mohndi said a prayer of thanks to someone called Ehl’Rohlahn. Talk about awkward, but I remembered after that.

  I was tending to the garden the next noon, just before midday’s meal, when I felt the vibration of several riders coming around the rise. My *Awareness* warned me, and I dropped down and *Blended* quickly. I saw Mohndi step outside and call Haskle in as several riders came into the yard, among them was Courtney Zayne. Much angry talk started, but I didn’t need to hear.

  Moving fast and quiet I was almost up to the house when some of them had dismounted. One acted as if to go into the house, another began to aim a crossbow at Hannah’s pet chicken as a man beside Zayne was harshly demanding my whereabouts.

  I seemingly rose up from nowhere and hurled the butt of my hoe into the head of the man walking to the doorway, my hatchet shattered the one man’s crossbow making the shaft kick back into his face, and springing to and from a water barrel I drop-kicked the speaker from his horse, who in turn fell into Zayne, who fell off of his horse into yet another man who fell off of his horse. Before anyone else could move I snatched three nails from the roofing pail and tossed them into the shoulders of three of the riders, and then reached into a horse’s mind and asked him to start bucking.

  As the speaker got to his feet, I was in front of him as he stood up. In my hand was one of my two foot batons which I held like a sword, and with a welcoming grin I directed my energy into it, making it slowly grow into a barbed thorn pointing at his belly. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. I used to whomp the like you and yours for practice. If I even think you are going to be a problem, I’ll hunt the lot of you and leave you as an example.”

  Oh, that one didn’t like it, nor me. I didn’t come to this country to get involved in battles or politics. We were far from the seat of the kingdom and this region didn’t even have a sheriff. With complete insolence and a manner that made it seem I was amused by them all, I said, “The name is Timber Wolf. Go back to whatever place you were run out of,” his face jerked, as if that remark struck home, “because I won’t ask about the legalities, and if you’re the worst this place has, you won’t even raise my sweat.”

  “You, you will be seeing us again.” The speaker said.

  Looking at him levelly and with concentrated boredom I said, “I better not.” And I returned the baton to its natural state.

  They got themselves together and left, muttering and swearing what they would have done to me if ... in the manner of cowards and other such living refuse.

  After they had ridden from our sight, I turned to Mohndi and asked, “Are you alright?”

  Mohndi had a lot of courage, and her lip didn’t quiver, but she let a sigh of relief and I knew she had been really concerned. Haskle was in the doorway all big-eyed, and Hannah was behind him, shaking, but with a butcher knife in hand. I couldn’t help but smile.

  Mohndi began to answer, “Yes. I, I don’t know …”

  Holding my hand up I said, “It’s okay.” Smiling gently I said, “It’ll be alright.”

  “You don’t understand. They think my husband is dead, most of the folk do. They’ll be back.”

  “No,” I said, “They won’t. Now go ahead and finish lunch, I’m starving out here …” picking up the hoe I looked up at her with an attempt at a humorous flourish, “… ple-e-ease.”

  That evening I slung my sword, bow, crossbow and borrowed a horse. I was back the next morning in time for breakfast, playing my flute as I rode in.

  “Where did you go, where have you been?” Haskle ran up to me and asked as I dismounted and led the horse into the barn.

  Rubbing the top of his head and ruffling his hair I answered, “Just had to tend to some business. Now, did you get the milking done and chickens fed?”

  Mohndi appeared at the door. I just glanced at her and passed a quick wink, and I knew that she knew. She never said if she approved or nay. Some women folks don’t tend to like bloodshed, and I understand perfectly. That’s why I didn’t get dirty in front of the children. But Courtney Zayne’s clan would threaten no one else again. With Haskle in tow, we went to groom the horse and get ready for breakfast.

  Chapter 58

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  I REALLY LIKED Wilfred. When he arrived a few days later the family was really excited to see him. His mate was an older fellow named Cal, just a bit slow on the uptake, but who really knew his fishing and was an uncle of some sort. Ravus was Mohndi’s brother’s boy who was fourteen and could only help occasionally. He was a stout lad, though, and had a jovial way about him.

  The vessel was a well built two-master named Lady Mohndi, and you could tell she was proudly kept. They had been out a long time hunting for a haul and returned with only an empty vessel. But at least they had come home safe. Stories were swapped, a keg was opened, and we got to know each other a bit.

  Wilfred could tell a spinner, but me, I had decided to keep quiet for the most part. I think he could tell there was a not so pleasant past behind me, but I had stood for his household and that made me solid in his book. After the first night home, I thought it would be nice to let the children stay with me in the barn, where I told stories and played the flute until they were fast asleep.

  Never before had I realized there were so many different kinds of fishing seasons, and while my intent had been to help out with the keep’s chores, I’ll be jiggered if Wilfred didn’t get me on that vessel. He taught me how to work the ropes, tie this down, where to stand when this happened and where not to stand for that, how to use nets, all kinds of sailing skills.

  Manning the wheel fascinated me, I don’t know why, but once I learned the use of the rudder I found a natural talent for working through submerged obstacles. Wilfred watched me carefully and one day he put me to some sand bars for a test. Searching down into the water I was able to find the various heights and depths of what was below. Guiding the Lady wasn’t even a challenge.

  My knowledge of fish habits and such was quite limited, but as we sat at his kitchen table one evening around an ale, I leaned forward and asked, “What if I were to find the fish for you?”

  Wilfred was a jester, and could fan a wide one on the story board, but he took on an I know you don’t know the way of it and your tryin’ to help and all but kind of face when he politely said, “You don’t quite understand, Wulf, it doesn’t exactly work just like that. It takes time to learn …”

  “No … really. What if I could find you a whole bunch of fish?”

  Mohndi came to the table with a hot mug of her own and sat with us men folk. She took a sip as we all sat around silent, Wilfred mentally chewing over whether to take me serious and Cal just enjoying the ale. Wilfred was rolling a toothpick in his teeth, I’m sure trying to decide how to tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about, and gently drumming his fingers on the table top.

  In a very sensual way, Mohndi leaned over and whispered in her husband’s ear. He looked over at her sideways as if
what she had said was absurd. Then she took a femininely firm tone and softly said, “As-s-sk him, husband.”

  Wilfred let an obligatory sigh and said, “How, Wulf, do you expect to find the fish?”

  Savoring the moment, I sat back and said, “I can talk with animals.”

  He winced his face, “Aye, mate, I can talk to them too …”

  “No, husband. He says he can talk with them.”

  Wilfred had heard about me making the baton grow into a thorn-club, and he had seen me do a couple of other small things. I was smiling as he mulled ideas in his head. And then he got an intelligent look on his face, followed by a spark of amusement and asked, “Aye?!” Then he leaned forward on the table and laughed, “Can you swim laddy?”

  Right then my smile faded away, “Swim? Why?”

  Eighteen days, it took, me sputtering and splashing all over the place, but it was Haskle who finally came out and did the job of teaching me the basics of swimming. When the time was right, Wilfred set us out for the deep blue and the hope of a major catch of what they call Green Tail.

  I want to say the sailing was no problem, ahem, uh, the first two, alright, maybe three days, I spent quite a bit of time hanging onto the ships rail and feeding the ocean. The sailing time I had experienced before was smooth and nothing like the heave and roll of the deep blue sea. Finally, I got what Wilfred called my sea legs, but it wasn’t quick in coming. Thankfully Wilfred was an understanding man and didn’t rib me too awfully hard.

  We didn’t find the Green Tail, but we found a school of dolphins on the fourth morning out.

  “Alright, Wulf. Can you talk to them?”

  Looking back at the smiling Wilfred, my thoughts were on that big catfish, and this water was so-o-o much deeper. I also hadn’t eaten much more than some hard-tack bread in days. Having my boots off didn’t make me happy and I was trying to remember if I had left anything undone at the keep. Okay … I went into the water … not very gracefully … and began to *Summon* one of the dolphins.