Under the Wolf's Shadow

by A. Katie Rose

  “Don’t have one,” I replied, biting into hard bread and cheese offered to me by Yuri.

  Tuatha, having finished his lunch, leaped down from Arianne’s lap and trotted to me, his tail waving. Having lost some of his puppy awkwardness, he moved with some of the lithe grace he’d own as an adult. Arianne, missing Darkhan terribly, had no wolf of her own. She tried every trick and bribe she could think of to keep Tuatha with her. As Raine’s son, he thought of me as his mother, and he never failed to abandon her if my side or arms were available.

  I grunted as he crawled into my lap, his jaws wide in a lupine grin. He now weighed three times as much as he had when his dam dropped him in Raine’s lap. Now as big as a full-grown shepherd dog, he overflowed not just my lap but also numbed my legs with his heavy weight. Like Tor, he grew fast.

  “What if I don’t want to share my cheese?” I asked him when he gazed up at me with those wide, adoring sapphire eyes and whined low, licking his dark lips.

  “You will anyway,” Bar said from behind me. “He knows a sucker when he sees one.”

  “I’m always a sucker for beautiful eyes,” I replied, giving him a morsel of cheese.

  “You’re just a sucker,” Bar snapped. “Admit it.”

  “There’s one born every minute.”

  “So we just ride down there like we belong?” Kel’Ratan asked, receiving his own pre-lunch lunch from Yuras.

  “Precisely,” I answered, rubbing dark ears and offering more cheese.

  “We answer no questions,” Rygel said from his place beside Arianne. She nibbled on a piece of beef, then popped the rest into Rygel’s mouth.

  I scowled at her. “You better eat twice what you just gave him,” I said firmly. “You still don’t weigh more than a damn rabbit.”

  When she would have defied me, her princess rising to the surface, I glowered with my very best ‘don’t you dare try me’ face. Bowing under my superior rank, she sullenly munched on bread and cheese. Hastily, Rygel popped some nuts from his pocket into her hand. She loved nuts, for a strange reason, and ate them when she might refuse better food.

  “We might simply offer a few jewels as bribes,” Rygel suggested, grimacing in embarrassment. “They may be satisfied and leave us to ride on through.”

  “Keep some handy, then,” Kel’Ratan said, clearly worried.

  “What will be, will be,” I said. “Either they’ll let us pass and not care, or they let us pass and run squealing to Brutal. Either way, we pass.”

  Kel’Ratan muttered into his own bread, chewing hard.

  I slewed around to Bar. “Go hunt,” I ordered.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I don’t care. I can’t have you with me, nor can I have you hungry when I can least afford to have you gone. Go.”

  “You’re certainly bossy these days,” he grumbled, walking away to launch himself into the air without casting snow over us.

  “I am the boss,” I said equably. “High time you learned that.”

  He’d long ago learned how to mutter under his breath from Kel’Ratan, the local expert. I munched my cheese, watching him rise on a warm thermal, circling higher and higher. Smart enough not to fly north, over the valley of the industrious miners, he flew east, his long leonine legs and black-tipped tail streaming behind him. He vanished behind a mountain and was lost from my sight.

  As Tor served up warmed meat, fruit, nuts and tubers he always managed to find. Witraz, Alun and Rannon joined us and sat down beside the fire. Yuri took plenty of food to Left and Right, on watch, before returning to take some food for himself.

  “Rygel,” I said, catching his attention. “Where is Raine, by the bond you have?”

  Pausing mid-chew, he half-shut his eyes, concentrating. “I’d say not more than two days ride from here.”

  “Are Darkhan and Tashira with him?” Arianne asked, her emphasis on Darkhan’s name telling me of whom she truly wanted to know about.

  “That I can’t say,” Rygel admitted. “I can feel only Raine.”

  “Tashira is with him,” Shardon said from his grazing amid the horses and mules.

  “Good,” I said. “Now, we deal with those miners below. I saw no posted guards, so none will stop us. We continue to ride unless accosted, answer no questions unless we’ve no choice. Toss them some jewels and ride on.”

  Kel’Ratan shrugged. “As long as they aren’t armed, I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “Let them suspect what they will,” Rygel added. “They may not even be certain, given our current mode of dress. Keep your hair inside your hood, Princess, you, too, Arianne. With no wolves and no griffin, they may assume we are merchants passing by and ask no questions.”

  That advice, while quite good, lasted until we rode midway through the camp. Not quite a town, as such, its tents and hovels still gave the small valley a town-like atmosphere. I rode, my head down, behind Kel’Ratan and Rygel, with Arianne beside me. Riding in pairs, my boys trailed us, leading the laden mules. Let the miners believe men held the rank, not the small, obvious women in the group. They may even think us trollops, and never look beyond that notion.

  Miners, muddied to the eyeballs and armed with shovels and picks, a few holding the reins of small donkeys, watched us ride past. Their mouths dropped open, as though they’d never seen horsemen in their lives. Thick, viscous mud splashed from under the hooves of our mounts as we rode down the main street. Dismal and dreary, with little to attract the eye, I found the entire place depressing.

  None tried to stop us, or even raise a voice as to our business. Perhaps there was no central government or protective service that might ask the most awkward of questions. I breathed easier when no one bothered to halt our progression.

  I also noticed very few women in the place. One or two, here and there, at the doors of tents or huts, watched us with dull, incurious eyes as we rode past. No doubt former prostitutes brought to this place to entertain the miners for food, shelter and perhaps a bit of gold.

  Perhaps halfway through this rough village the town square hove into our view and path. There stood a line of three stout men with swords, holding the business ends toward us.

  “Halt,” the foremost ordered.

  Kel’Ratan reined in, Rygel halting beside him. Around us, the town movement slowed to a stop to stare, feet and hooves mired deep in mud and muck, pointing and gawping. Structures, more than wooden hovels yet less than firm brick buildings, stood about the square. A common well sprang from the midst of it all. A small figure dressed and hooded in brown homespun rose from beside the well to turn. Also taking in us newcomers.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” demanded the man. His grip on his sword’s hilt was less than sure, I observed, and his hands shook visibly.

  “We’re only passing through, friend,” Rygel replied easily, leaning on the pommel of his saddle. I hoped these people wouldn’t know a Tarbane from the ass end of an ox. “We want no trouble, nor will we run from it.”

  In pure Rygel drama, Kel’Ratan shifted in his saddle to display his fingers tickling the hilt of his sword. Down the line, my boys imitated him, subtly revealing bows, nocked arrows, swords. The leader gulped. I grinned.

  The man rallied his nerve. “We demand a tax,” he declared. “From anyone who crosses our territory.”

  His fellows nodded, belligerent, yet terrified should we deny them their alleged tax. They knew full well who might win a battle over this ‘tax’, and it wouldn’t be them. Outnumbered ten to three, they knew where the odds stood.

  “Of course,” Rygel replied easily. “We’ve no wish to cause you grief. Will this cover your tax?”

  To the leader, he carelessly tossed three diamonds and an emerald. The man caught one, while the others plopped into the mud. His fellows dropped their blades to root for the other gems. The townies gathered closer together, their eyes on the trio with the new riches.

  “Why, yes, so it will,” the man stammered, eyeing the mud at his feet. His swor
d drooped in his fist.

  From the candle of my eye, I saw the figure in brown homespun, hooded, step away from the well. I turned to watch fully, my hackles rising, as he folded his hands within the sleeves of his gown. Hunching over my right arm to disguise my movement, I gripped the hilt of my blade. To his right, the village idiots scrambled to find the lost diamonds, exclaiming in horror. By all accounts, we’d been forgotten. I half-thought the townsfolk might turn on the trio who now owned the village’s ‘tax’ if those fools refused to share.

  Only the small, loosely draped person paid us the slightest bit of attention. He tilted his head to peer up, walking half-way around the well. He didn’t show his hands. I didn’t like that, didn’t like that at all. I slid my sword from its sheath, yet kept it hidden behind Mikk’s shoulder.

  The homespun paused. A light feminine voice spoke from the depths of the heavy hood.

  “Hello, Rygel,” she said.

  Caught in an amused smile at the toughs fighting each other for the diamonds in the mud, Rygel froze. His tanned complexion drained until his skin waxed pale, the color of raw bread dough. His head swiveled slowly toward the hood with his amber eyes bulging. His throat worked, but no sound emerged from his mouth.

  Arianne, no slouch, recognized a threat to her love when it spoke. She heeled Rufus between the brown-draped girl and Rygel, a knife in her hand. At my saddle-bow, hidden by my cloak and my furs, Tuatha growled. Rather late in the game, Kel’Ratan finally nudged his horse behind the woman, his sword drawn.

  Witraz and Rannon also kicked their stallions forward, swords in their grips. With no room for them near the center of the drama, the rest of my boys armed themselves and waited for word from me.

  Our horses and actions finally engendered the attention of the fellow who first accosted us.

  “You know this man?” he demanded, having retrieved three of the four tossed gems. His brothers still labored for the fourth at his feet.

  “He’s a dear friend of mine,” the woman answered, her hood still hiding her face. “Let him and his people go, Tuco. They mean no harm.”

  Tuco scowled, but as his mate finally rose, the emerald triumphant in his fingers, he discovered the merits of the jewels rather than the source of them. The group moved away, cursing each other and exclaiming over their treasure. The townies moved with them, muttering.

  “Care to introduce me to your friends, Rygel?” the woman asked, still hidden.

  “Sabella,” Rygel gasped, at last finding his voice. “What do you–what are you doing here?”

  Light, tinkling laughter answered him. “Why the same as I’ve always done. I earn my living on my back.”

  Slender hands tossed aside the brown hood. I choked back a gasp of horror. The woman might once have been beautiful, but vivid red scars crossed her pale face, lancing deep into her skin. Her once blonde hair, now fraught with oil, skeins of grey and dirt, hung past voluptuous breasts. Those pale, plump mounds, half-bared under the skimpy cotton cloth she wore beneath the brown wool, also showed red crisscrossing scars. Clear blue eyes gazed up at Rygel, ignoring the rest of us as insignificant, useless, irrelevant. Only he mattered.

  “Sabella,” he groaned, his amber eyes filled with pain, with grief.

  “I prayed and I prayed,” Sabella said softly. “I wore my knees raw praying for this very moment.”

  I sheathed my sword, finding little threat in this girl, and relaxed. Curiosity overwhelmed me; I couldn’t stop myself. “Rygel,” I murmured, glancing from one to the other. “Who is she?”

  “She’s–” Rygel began, choked, and tried again. “She’s–”

  “I’m the one who betrayed him to Crown Prince Brutal,” Sabella answered for him, flashing her blue at me for a quick second. “I took his love and turned it against him. I fed him tros until he was addicted. I led him to his fate and walked away.”

  I sat Mikk and stared hard at Rygel’s nemesis. I clenched my fist over my sword hilt. Gods above and below. For his sake, I raised up anger and hatred at what she’d done. Because of this woman here, Usa’a’mah delved deep into Rygel’s soul and pulled out his abiding hatred of women and used it. I took a savage beating because of this woman standing ankle deep in icy mud.

  Smiling, her tears slipping down her pale cheeks, she traced her scars with a pale finger. “This was my reward, Rygel,” she said, still smiling. “I’ll not hide from you, or your vengeance. I took good gold to love you, to feed you tros, to betray you. Witness my compensation, for I earned it richly.”

  Rygel turned his face away, hiding, his eyes shut. His jaw clenched tight, his fingers trembled on his leather reins. Shardon stood silent, unmoving, seemingly unaffected by Rygel’s obvious agony. Even so, I recognized the hard edge in his mild brown eyes, the stiffness in his legs, the height of his raised head. If Rygel didn’t command it, Shardon might well take action on his own. He stood to avenge Rygel if Rygel didn’t have the guts to take it himself.

  “What did Brutal do to you?” I asked, my voice tight.

  Her blue gaze didn’t leave Rygel. “Brutal tied me to his bed,” she replied softly. “He raped me for two days. He cut my face, my body, with his knife. After he sated himself, he gave me to his soldiers.”

  Rygel groaned, an oddly hushed and deeply grieving tone. Arianne, torn between comforting him and protecting him, glanced from his shaking shoulders to the brown-cloaked woman. Her mouth pursed in indecision. Should she hate Sabella or not? Her knife vanished.

  “To say I’m sorry could never be enough,” Sabella said softly. “I cannot, dare not, beg you to forgive me. I don’t wish your absolution.”

  My rage grew, boiling in my blood. I clenched my fists. I directed at the one who deserved it the most. Brutal. Always Brutal, destroying lives just for the amusement factor.

  Despite her words, her tone, Rygel refused to look at her. She went on as though he gave her his every attention, ignoring his desire to shut out her voice, her memories.

  “I implored the gods to grant me this one request: that I find you one day and say to you, ‘I pay every day for what I’ve done. I’ve sinned against you, and my sin can never be absolved.’”

  “Damn you,” Rygel said hoarsely. “Damn you.”

  “I am indeed damned, my love,” she whispered, tears shining in her lustrous eyes. “I took gold to betray a good man unto an evil one. There’s a place in hell reserved for me. When my time is up, I go there gladly.”

  “What do you want from me?” Rygel’s voice, haunted, agonized and filled with such self-loathing it cut me to the core.

  “I wish only to say this to you. I’m sorry for what I’ve done.”

  “You bitch,” Rygel groaned. “Do you know what he made me do?”

  “He forced you to sell your soul,” she replied softly. “Yet, you own it still. You’re so lucky. Mine?” Sabella laughed softly. “Well, I can never purchase it back.”

  Her blue eyes slowly traversed our company before resting on a fiercely protective Arianne. “You’ve found true love,” Sabella murmured. “I’m glad. Truly glad. Without sounding trite or jealous, you do deserve it. You both do.”

  Rygel and Arianne both ignored her as though she hadn’t spoken. Reining their mounts around, they walked a short distance away, Arianne’s small hand on his arm. I heard her voice speaking, but Arianne’s voice was too soft for me to make out her words.

  Uncaring, unmindful, Sabella glanced around, her fingers wound tightly within one another. Travelling around my boys, Corwyn and Tuatha, a small smile played about her delicate lips.

  “Strange folk,” she murmured, half to herself. “Not miners, though.”

  Her blue eyes, at last, wandered to me. “Might I ask who might you be, lady?”

  I smiled a fraction. “I am Princess Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla.”

  Instantly, Sabella curtseyed low, abasing herself in the thick mud. “Your Highness,” she whispered. “Forgive my lack of manners. I know your name, for you were to wed the Crow
n Prince.”

  “Indeed,” I replied, my tone mild. “Rise, Sabella.”

  She obeyed me, her scarred face pale as milk, the red slashes a darker hue against her skin. Keeping her gaze on the ground, her homespun trembled with fear. “These must be your warriors,” she murmured, not daring to look up. “You must think ill of me, Your Highness.”

  “What I think matters little, lady,” I replied. “What Rygel thinks is important.”

  Sabella continued to shiver, her face turned away, hiding amidst the thick fall of what once was lustrous blonde hair. Her homespun, now wrapped tightly about her slender frame, hid not only the evidence of her scars but of her profession. Kel’Ratan caught my eye and shook his head, his mustache smooth. Tuatha grumbled, shifting his paws on my saddle.

  Her terror irritated me. “Relax,” I said. “You’ll not be harmed by me or mine, and that includes Rygel. You may speak freely.”

  I heard her breath catch on a soft sob. Finding her courage, she turned at last, her face down, her fingers twitching. I knew she fought to keep her restless hands from tossing her hood over her head. To hide from me.

  Though I wanted to assuage her fears further, as my compassion rose to nudge me in the ribs, I clenched my teeth shut. Whatever compassion she needed right now must come from one other than myself.

  Sabella glanced up, then quickly away. “Rygel–he’s–is he your companion now, Your Highness?”

  I grinned. “Though I often wish it otherwise, he is. I’m actually rather fond of him, but he doesn’t need to know that. So don’t tell him.”

  Sabella actually chuckled. “I won’t. But somehow I doubt you’re fooling him.”

  Finding courage in my banter, she spread her hands to indicate the mining town. “What are you doing here, Your Highness, in this dreadful place?”

  “Passing through,” I answered, leaving it at that. She certainly didn’t need to know of Raine, wolves, Darius or our mission. As I knew she’d never dare ask questions, she contented herself to what information I gave her. While she wasn’t peasant class, she held enough poise to warrant an educated guess that she started life as the daughter of a landed lord.