Keeper of the Wolves

by Cheree Alsop

  The door opened and Koya peered around it. “Keeper, are you awake?” When she saw I was standing, a smile lit her face. She pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside. “You’ve got to be ready to get out of here.” She glanced behind her. “I don’t know if Rasmus would approve. He says you need another few days’ rest, but you don’t seem the type to take it easy.” Koya gestured toward the door. “Care for a turn around the garden?”

  I walked up to her. Her scent swirled around me like leaves caught in a playful wind. I couldn’t get used to the way it made my heart pound. When she set her hand on my back, her touch sent tingles down my spine. I glanced up at her, wondering if she knew of the affect she had on me. She wore a dark blue dress with birds worked in golden thread around the neckline and down the sleeves. White lace set off her graceful neck and lined her wrists while thin gold stitching defined her bodice and small waist. The slippers she wore matched the dress perfectly except for a few dark stains on the toes. The scent that clung to them hinted of rich loam and ivy.

  “Tessa will scold me when she sees them,” Koya said, following my gaze. “I don’t know why I can never keep my shoes clean.”

  I wanted to point out that avoiding the shadowy places in the garden where the sun had little chance to dry the moisture would help, but I couldn’t speak in my wolf form. I had yet to talk as a human, either. Though I changed at night, I didn’t trust my human form. I hadn’t left the confines of the room and I had spent the last few days sleeping during the lingering remains of the fever. I wondered if tonight would be different.

  Koya led the way out of the room and I found the scent of two servants who had cleaned the hallway since I last crossed the thick carpet. Koya stepped across the thick fibers as though unaware of how they sunk deep underfoot and smelled faintly of sheep and grass, whispers of a life before they were made into the thick weave.

  “Here it is,” Koya said with a smile. She pulled open the unguarded door and sunlight overflowed in. I knew it was my imagination that made the flowers on the carpet look as though they reached toward the light, but it was exactly how I felt. Every moment in the makeshift recovery room made me long for unfettered sunshine and fresh air. The brief moments I had experienced with Koya outside the cage in the garden had been heavenly. Fear that I would never feel that again sat heavily upon me during my sickness.

  I stepped into the sunlight and blinked as my eyes adjusted from the shadows of Koya’s grandfather’s quarters to the golden light of day. Pollen from a hundred different varieties of flowers tickled my nose. I took a deep breath of rose and lavender mixed with the sharp pine scent of evergreens kept trimmed on the east side of the garden. A breeze brushed across my thick fur, chasing away the scent of sickness and herbs. The twitter of maids chattering happily as they worked in the gardens was harmonized by the deeper calls of the stable hands that ran horses in the corrals near the wooden buildings.

  “Are you coming?”

  I looked up to see Koya watching me with a smile on her face as if she guessed just how much I had missed being outside. I followed her along the brick-lined garden path. Her fingers strayed down to tangle softly in my fur. I turned my attention to our surroundings to keep my mind focused. Sunflowers and pink and purple lilies with petals that darkened to shades of deep violet lined the pathway. The soft ivy underfoot gave off a scent of summer rich with hot days, cool evenings, and nights filled with the promise of gentle rain.

  The gardens were vast, spanning the entire area behind the castle in squares and small mazes with shrubbery walls high enough to give privacy to those inside. The sound of talking faded to a soft murmur the deeper we walked. Koya led me to a back area of the garden where the flowers were allowed to grow with wild abandon. To me it was more beautiful than the carefully manicured walkways closer to the castle.

  We turned a corner and my heart slowed at the scent of iron. The smell was all that remained of my cage, a stale trace of metal that tainted the grasses and bent willows that had just begun to rise after being flattened by the heavy enclosure. I hoped the cage had been melted down to a puddle. Koya felt me hesitate and her hand smoothed the fur at the base of my neck reassuringly. “I had Rasmus get rid of it. You’ll never have to live in a cage again.”

  I followed her to a stand of aspens near the back corner of the garden. She sat down at their base as though she had done so many times before. She patted the soft grass near her invitingly. “You look like you could use a rest.”

  I didn’t like the thought of appearing weak, but the short walk had used up most of my strength. I settled onto the warm bed of grass lit by a circle of sunlight. The sun warmed my muscles and soothed the throbbing of the healing whip wound along my back. I let out a quiet sigh.

  “I know what you mean,” Koya replied. I glanced at her without lifting my head from my paws and she smiled. “I always come here when I’ve had a long day.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “That’s been more often lately.” She rested her head against the white bark and closed her eyes. Her hand strayed to my back, a reassuring weight that was quickly becoming familiar. I welcomed the tingle of warmth that always accompanied her touch. “It’s nice to share this spot with someone,” she said quietly.

  A few minutes later she spoke without opening her eyes, “I always imagined sitting here with a man I trusted and cared about. I saw myself marrying the man of my dreams and living with him at Vielkeep Castle for the rest of our days.” A laugh touched with regret escaped her. “I guess I figured Joven and I would share the castle and the responsibilities as we’ve done since Father passed away. I conveniently ignored the fact that if I married, I would be obliged to go to my husband’s holdings.” A note of longing entered her tone. “I don’t want to leave this place.”

  Her fingers tightened in my fur at the last words. A long-forgotten memory ran through my mind. I saw myself after the first time I changed, a scared pup whose life had been turned upside-down with no explanation as to why. The other wolves were afraid of me and I feared what I had become. My first impulse was to run away and leave behind the scent of their fear and my own terror, but they were my woods. I had grown up beneath the trees playing with the other wolves and learning to hunt like our elders. I knew every rock and tree, the murmur of the brook past our den and the sway of the breeze through the leaves. My heart belonged to the woods and the wolves. I didn’t want to leave.

  Remorse filled me as the memory faded away. I had been forced to leave anyway, and as a prisoner instead of at my own choice. My woods were no longer my own. My home had been shattered with one wrong step.

  “Koya?”

  We both looked up at the sound of Joven’s voice. Koya’s brother appeared a few seconds later looking flushed and out of breath. A glint of frustration touched his gaze when he saw us. “Koya, the Petitioner’s Court is about to start. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  He seemed a bit worn around the edges. His usually carefully folded cravat was skewed and his hair looked as though he had tangled with a lilac bush and the bush won. Bits of sticks and a few light purple flower petals littered his clothing and hair. Koya giggled. “Joven, you look ridiculous.”

  The comment did nothing to ease her brother’s flustered state. She rose smoothly and picked the pieces from his hair while he straightened his black jerkin and dark red cravat.

  “We were supposed to be there at high noon,” Joven scolded, his tone slightly more relaxed than before. “We can’t keep them waiting.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” Koya replied. “Tessa was to come and get me when it was time.”

  As if on cue, the maid stepped into view. She saw us and smiled in relief. “Lady Koya, it’s time.”

  “Thank you, Tessa,” Koya replied with a graceful nod. “We’ll be there.”

  Tessa eyes slipped to me and a brief shadow of concern crossed her face before she curtsied and disappeared back around the corner. Joven followed her gaze to me and his brow creased as if he had
forgotten I was there. “Don’t you look comfortable?” he asked, his tone level.

  Koya guided him to the edge of the small square of garden where we had been resting. “Let him be,” she said. “He needs to rest.”

  Joven paused before exiting the shrub and met my gaze. “You should come with us. You might find the Petitioner’s Court enlightening.” He said the last word as though he was attempting to be humorous, but both he and Koya looked weary and determined as if they faced a heavy trial.

  I rose to my feet. If they had to confront something unpleasant, it wouldn’t do for them to face it alone. I limped after Koya and when she glanced back and saw me, the heaviness of her gaze lightened and she waited for me to catch up. Both siblings walked slowly enough that I could keep up, but when we got to the small gray building on the west side of the castle, I was ready to drop from exhaustion. It scared me how weak I felt. If Koya was truly in trouble, I wouldn’t be much good to her as helpless as a newborn pup.

  I gritted my teeth and lifted my head. The scent of hundreds of people, washed and unwashed, sweaty or scented with perfume, assailed my nose when we stepped through a back door held open by a palace guard in Vielkeep black and red. Koya and Joven exchanged a heavy glance before passing underneath a thick red cloth curtain separating them from the hum of commotion that filled the hall. I followed them through the gap in the cloth and paused at the sight of at least two hundred people standing and sitting around the vast room. Scents of anxiety, fear, hunger, sadness, and worry assailed my nose along with the smells I attributed to workers of livestock, wood, metal, meat, plants and the other various crafts that supported city life.

  Talking ceased as soon as Joven and Koya appeared. Several men in front stepped forward but were held back by four guards armed with heavy black clubs. Swords hung at their sides, but it looked as though the clubs saw more use. I crossed to Koya’s side and felt all eyes shift to me. I sat next to her and let my eyes roam the crowd. I was used to being gawked at, but somehow the absence of bars between me and the audience changed the situation. I felt as though I had the upper hand this time. I met the gazes of several men who had pushed their way through the crowd at the siblings’ appearance and they looked away uncomfortably. That was something I could definitely get used to.

  Joven nodded at the expectant crowd; his smile was tight and well-rehearsed. It put the crowd at ease, but kept him above them as a superior. I wondered how a human could develop such expertise in expression. My experience in the circus led me to believe most were rough and unrefined in the area, unaware of how a simple tightening of the eyes or a slight crease at the corners of the mouth spoke more than a thousand words. It seemed that Joven, on the other hand, was well-versed in the art of expression without speaking.

  A man stood near the dais wearing a black robe with a red rose on the shoulder. “Welcome, citizens of Vielkeep. The Petitioner’s Court is ready to begin,” he announced.

  “About time,” one of the men in front mumbled.

  Joven and Koya sat in the two simple chairs on the raised dais that took up the front of the court. Rasmus entered the room, nodded respectfully at the siblings, and stood on Joven’s left side. He threw me a curious look, but didn’t question my presence.

  Koya’s hand slid down to rest at the base of my neck. I wondered if she did it for reassurance; it was obvious neither sibling enjoyed the Petitioner’s Court. I respected them for doing what was necessary despite an apparent distaste for the proceedings.

  Joven nodded and the guards cleared a path two steps below. The first petitioner was a man with well-patched clothes and a worn canvas hat that he removed to reveal a bald patch amid his white and gray hair. The guards gestured and he stepped onto the step just below the dais. A scent of fresh grass, early morning dew, and clean dirt met my nose as he addressed the siblings.

  “My Lord and Lady,” he said, his eyes lowered respectfully in a manner that reminded me of lesser wolves in a hierarchy, “My son ‘as injured when our horse kicked ‘im being shoed. ‘Is arm is swollen and ‘e can’t work.” The man’s voice dropped as if asking for help was hard but necessary. “My hay’s down but I can’t gather et quickly enough. I beg assistance for help with gathering ta harvest so’s mold don’t ruin ta field.” He crushed his hat in his hands and stood there with his eyes lowered waiting for a response.

  Joven glanced at Koya and she turned her attention to a man sitting at a small desk near the front corner. “Master Recorder, please note that Cropper Andrus Varn is allotted two prisoners for the amount of time he needs to clear his field. The work will go toward paying off the prisoners’ debts and Cropper Varn’s fields will be cared for.”

  The Master Recorder wrote quickly. The scent of his ink, a walnut and iron mixture, touched the air as his quill scratched on the sheet of parchment.

  “Thank ye kindly, m’Lord and Lady,” Cropper Varn said with a grateful bow. He stepped back down and was swallowed by the waiting crowd.

  The next man, tall and skinny in a strange high brown hat with a goose feather sticking out of it, bowed low and swept his hat in front of him with a practiced ease. When he rose, I saw that his nose was long but crooked as if he had lost a fight once. A scent of goose down and corn dust wafted from the long brown jacket that fell almost to his knees.

  Another scent, a lingering smell of stale, sweet barley and cruelty made the hair stir on the back of my neck. He spoke in a gratingly honeyed voice, “M’Lord and Lady Vielslayer, my geese are unmanageable and I been hard pressed ta keep ‘em from ta foxes and mink. I request a goose girl ta shield ‘em from harm.”

  I felt Koya’s hand tighten in my fur and glanced up to see that her face was a wall of calm, but anger roiled beneath the façade of her sky blue eyes. Joven was watching the man with a slight curl of distaste to his lips as though even he couldn’t hide how he felt. Koya pierced the man with a look. “Fowler Bardson, need I remind you that your last goose girl ran away and was taken in by Baker Mailyn. She was covered in bruises and said you beat her when you were drunk.”

  The man straightened from his groveling post and a shadow of anger clouded his face. “It’s me own business what I do wi’ me ‘elp,” he said in a bark that sent spittle to the steps. “She wa’ a coward and a nuisance, and et would be in your bes’ interest not ta send my name through ta mud.”

  I bared my teeth at the undercurrent of violence in his tone. A growl rumbled in my chest and I took a step toward him. The man’s eyes widened and he stumbled back down the steps. The guards below caught him and halted his descent. The murmurs that had risen through the crowd at the Fowler’s request fell completely silent.

  “Wh-what’s tha’ beast doin’ up there?” he stammered.

  Neither Joven nor Koya seemed ruffled by my response; instead, slight scent of satisfaction rose from both of them. I kept my eyes locked on the Fowler’s. “I suppose this is an appropriate time to introduce Koya’s new personal guard,” Joven said with a wry lilt to his words. Another murmur went up through the crowd, but it was speculative and not filled with the anger that had responded to the Fowler’s demand for a new goose girl.

  “A wuf that size ain’t no ordinary beast,” the Fowler growled in an undertone.

  “I would suggest that no one threatens my sister while he is around,” Joven replied in his casual tone. His words sharpened slightly, “Speaking to your Heirs as you have is disrespectful, Fowler Bardson. Need I remind you how closely you came to imprisonment last year when you appeared at Petitioner’s Court drunk and demanding your goose girl be returned to you?”

  The Fowler hung his head but glared at the floor without remorse. My hackles stayed up and every muscle in my body was tense in case the man decided to retaliate.

  “Master Recorder, please note that Fowler Bardson’s request is not to be granted and he is on probation with the Court for contempt toward the Heirs.” The Fowler let out a string of expletives laced with spittle. I couldn’t make out the individual words
he spoke, but the vile twist to his face left little to the imagination. Another snarl tore from my throat and I took a second step forward. He tripped backwards and was again caught by the guards who promptly hauled him through the crowd.

  I could tell by the looks on the faces of many in the audience that they were happy with the way the siblings had handled the Fowler.

  “It’s alright,” Koya whispered.

  I took a calming breath and sat back by her side, but it was several minutes before my ruff relaxed and the tension eased from my muscles. Her fingers stroked the fur at the base of my neck as if she guessed how much the man’s threat had set me on edge.

  The rest of the Petitioner’s Court went quickly. After the Fowler’s example and treatment, it seemed everyone else was content to voice their problems and accept the siblings’ decisions without contention. Joven and Koya stayed until well after the dinner hour had come and gone with no refreshment.

  The Announcer paused after one particularly trying issue that involved a cow breaking down a fence and destroying a cropper’s corn harvest. The case would have been simple but it turned out that the cow was shared by both neighbors because one owned the heifer that birthed the cow while the other had the bull. They split the milk but neither could decide who had forgotten to tie her the night she broke through the fence.

  “Would you prefer to hear the rest at the next Petitioner’s Court?” the Announcer asked quietly.

  Koya shook her head despite the weary circles that shadowed both the siblings’ eyes. “I don’t want them to have to travel here in another week. Their work has been put on hold and they’ve been patient. We can be as well.”

  A man with a thick beard and shaggy hair stepped up next. His eyes were small but searched the room continuously as if he was used to being on a constant lookout for danger. He gave a nod that held more deference than the Fowler’s low-scraping bow before he addressed the siblings. He took a breath as if to steel himself, then said, “My Lord and Lady, I come to be heard ‘bout the Viel.”