Keeper of the Wolves

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Keeper of the Wolves Page 19

by Cheree Alsop


  Koya was in the midst of it all. Rasmus stood at her side and nodded at me when I drew near. The Lady of Vielkeep gave orders to servants and directed what she could of the chaotic proceedings. She looked determined to see everyone out of Vielkeep Castle as swiftly and calmly as possible. I wondered what she would think if she knew of the ruckus I had caused in the kitchen. It could have been much worse.

  The thought made me smile wolfishly until I saw Lord Brayton at the foot of the stairs. I almost turned away when his keen gaze met mine. His eyebrows drew together and he motioned me over. A man dressed in Miduan’s white and red whom I guessed to be the Lord’s manservant followed his gaze. When he spotted me, the servant looked for anyone else his master might summon, but there was the wide berth where I stood.

  I almost turned away. I kept remembering the fear in Brayton’s eyes when I changed, and knew that any further encounters might be uncomfortable at best and possibly deadly at worst, but I felt like I owed it to him. Obligation was something wolves understood well. Members of a pack took care of each other, brought food for expectant mothers, and cared for the pups so their parents could have a chance to hunt and stretch their legs. Wolves are obligated to their alpha to hunt and respect his or her commands, and alphas see to the safety and security of their pack.

  Brayton motioned again with more urgency and I gave in. The Lord’s manservant looked askance at me when Brayton told him to oversee the remaining packing while he attended to a matter of great importance, but the servant turned away without question. Brayton started up the stairs and I followed. Curiosity overpowered the foreboding that weighed on my mind. Too many people knew of my secret, and Koya’s security was at risk. I had to know what the consequences would be now that the Lord knew what we were hiding.

  He led the way down a long hallway and up another set of stairs. His familiarity with the castle was no surprise. Koya said he visited Vielkeep many times as a child. If he felt uncomfortable being followed by a wolf, he gave no sign of it. We passed a servant who took the stairs two at a time as he hurried down. The man didn’t glance in our direction, too much in a hurry to take note of those outside of his duties.

  Brayton pushed opened a door and stepped inside. I turned the corner and almost ran into him when he paused and looked around what appeared to be a child’s playroom. Toys that smelled as if they hadn’t been played with in years sat on tables and bookshelves. The room had been dusted regularly, but the scent of disuse lingered heavily in the air. Brayton crossed the green carpet with an air of reverence in his stance.

  “We used to play here for hours,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. His fingers trailed along a table top that bore the rough handwriting of a child carved into the top. He gave a small smile, his tone that of someone who forgot anyone else listened. “Joven and I cut our names into this table on a rainy day when we wanted more than anything to be outside dueling imaginary assailants and planning great battles we hoped to hold against the other duchies.”

  He let out his breath in a rush. “Taking up the title of Duke sounded so noble then, as if we could ride into battle each day defending the honor of our castles and heritage.” He gave a soft snort. “Look at us now, Joven a Duke in all but title, his duchy nearly swept from under him, and myself a Lord without a Lady, a broken man before I’ve yet to battle more than wooden dummies and the gossips of society.”

  He looked back at me and I realized that he hadn’t been speaking amiss; his words were intended for my ears, as wistful and wandering as they seemed.

  “You look skeptical,” he said. A hint of humor colored his tone. “I wonder if a normal wolf has ever looked so skeptical. I shall keep my eyes open for one on our way home and see if his eyes carry the same concern as yours.” He rubbed his clean-shaven jaw thoughtfully. “Of course, I suppose I would then have to bring him here and bore him with tales of the past as I have you to justify such an expression.”

  When I didn’t move from the doorway, he grinned. “Now look who’s scared. You nearly frightened me out of my pants with your little trick back in the garden, and here you are, a scary human wolf probably able to bite me in half and you don’t dare enter a child’s playroom?”

  I set my ears back at his teasing tone and took a step onto the green carpet. It felt strange to enter a place where so many memories hid in the shadows and amid the toys. I could smell the lemon scent of laughter, the balm of happiness, and in some places, the dark, stormy aroma of sorrow. The children he spoke of had grown up in this room.

  The reverence he showed whispered beneath my feet and within the stillness of the rocking horse in the corner and the dolls who watched us with button eyes. Just as a forest needed each animal and insect that thrived beneath its sheltering reach, the room needed children to fill it with life and joy. Without them, we walked through an empty shell void of meaning except for a few smiles and merry laughter that still hinted in the quiet corners.

  “Ah, a brave soul,” Brayton said. “I’m glad to see Koya has such a fearless protector.” I rolled my eyes like Joven did and he laughed. He leaned against one of the windows and peered below. “I’ve never realized what a similarity people have to ants hording up food against the winter storms.” He glanced back at me. “Come and look.”

  I padded quietly to the window, then put my paws against the glass and studied the people who hurried to load carriages and harness horses. It did look like a nest of ants that had been disturbed and worked to put their home to rights.

  My breath fogged the window. I dropped back to the dusty carpet and waited for Lord Brayton to speak. When he did so, it was on a topic that surprised me. “When you are done here, you’ll have a place at Miduan Castle.” I stared at him, but he continued to watch the activity below. “What you’re doing can’t be easy, and if you are as enamored with Koya as you say you are, you won’t want to be present after she chooses a suitor.”

  A pit formed in my stomach. I had shied away from such thoughts, but Brayton’s certain tone pounded into my mind the finality of living without Koya. Seeing her with another man would kill me, of that I was sure. He was offering me an out with my dignity intact and a place to run to when the world fell down around me.

  I tried to tell myself that Koya loved me, that she had promised we would find a way, but I only saw the uncertainty in her eyes when she spoke of how Joven would react and her duty to her duchy. I couldn’t tear her away from those who needed her, but I wanted to with all of my heart.

  I turned to find Brayton watching me with sorrow in his eyes. “You’ve proven yourself to be a valuable friend. Such a thing is hard to find these days.” A furrow formed between his eyebrows. “Come to Miduan and we’ll live in bitter reminiscence of the women we love.” He said it in a self-deprecating tone, but the touch of humor in his eyes made it a joke.

  I hesitated, then realized if Koya was forced to choose a suitor for the sake of her duchy, I would have no other choice. I gave a short nod. Brayton turned away and clasped his hands behind his back as he studied the chaos below once more. “Good,” was all he said. I watched him in silence for a few moments.

  When I left the room, I felt more troubled than when I entered, but I held a firm respect for the man who offered me a place in his kingdom. I could only hope I would never need to take advantage of his offer.

  ***

  Silence filled the castle after the last carriage rolled down the cobblestones. It was near evening, far longer than the Dukes and Duchesses of Rala wanted to wait before leaving, but with the amount of belongings they had brought along with the bedlam of loading dozens of different carriages and outfitting horses for guards, their departure took a considerable length of time.

  The sun lowered behind the nearest mountains as farewells were said and final tokens of appreciation were shared. Lord Brayton said his goodbyes, then nodded at me meaningfully from his carriage that was painted white with red roses along its exterior. In wolf form I could merely watch, but the gesture se
nt a pang of worry through my stomach.

  I glanced at Koya, but Brayton’s gesture had gone unnoticed. She waved at the last carriage. Turning away with a sigh, she said, “I don’t suppose anyone’s up for dinner in the kitchen.”

  Joven gave a snort of disgust, but Koya merely pushed his arm. “It’s been a while, and I doubt Steward Weis has the dining hall put to order quite yet.”

  “You know how Cook Tamus feels about us eating in her kitchen,” Joven argued. “It’s unseemly for Lords and Ladies to dine with their servants.”

  Koya rolled her eyes in a perfect impression of her brother. “Propriety leaves nobles lonely and their servants bored. I say we shake things up a bit.”

  Rasmus and I followed the brother and sister as they argued all the way to the kitchen. I swear I heard a laugh escape him, but when I glanced up, I saw only a carefully controlled countenance. When Koya and Joven entered the kitchen, everyone stopped in the midst of the cleaning they were doing. Cook Tamus’ eyes found me the second I walked into the room. She glowered but didn’t say anything in the presence of the siblings.

  “Mistress Cook,” Joven said with a jovial bow. “My sister has insisted on dining in here to save Steward Weis the trouble of cleaning up the Grand Hall twice.”

  The head cook bowed. “You honor us with your presence,” she said in a tone that completely hid the annoyance I smelled wafting from her in waves.

  “Thank you,” Koya replied. She elbowed Joven discreetly in the side. “See,” she said under her breath. They made their way to a table Cook Tamus quickly cleared. Both siblings seemed utterly unaware of the wide eyes and awed faces of the servants around them. Apparently dining with the castle workers was entirely out of the ordinary.

  Rasmus took up residence against a wall where he had a clear view of the room. I sat near Koya’s chair and studied the surroundings, though by the smell and obvious rapture on the faces around us, we had little to worry about.

  I wondered what would happen to the people of Vielkeep Castle should Koya marry someone without vast holdings and armies to defend them from the greed of the surrounding duchies. I planned to talk to Joven when I changed that night; it was easier to change by moonlight, especially after the last few taxing days. A million reasons why we shouldn’t wed tortured my mind, but they were dampened by the glances Koya threw me, looks tempered in love, happiness, and secret joy, looks for which I had gladly given up my world.

  Chapter 15

  I met Joven in the library that night. The air smelled of aging paper and inks that told of charcoal, tar, fish, copper, and pine. The carpet underfoot was soft and thick, a dense weave that muffled the sound of those who walked upon it. The cavernous ceiling rose high above us and the walled were lined with bookshelves to the top. I wondered how anyone had the time to read so many pieces of work.

  The chair Joven sat in was well worn to the point of comfort, one of the few tattered pieces of furniture I had seen in the castle. I set a hand on the threadbare cloth.

  Joven caught my look. “It was my dad’s favorite,” he said. The slightest hint of longing colored his voice. “I used to sit on his knee while he studied the histories of Rala and the deserts we came from.”

  “What’s a desert?” I asked when he paused. My voice was scratchy and rough, the voice of one who spoke five words a day at most. It was such a contrast from his refined speech and tone that I felt embarrassed for speaking and breaking his train of thought.

  He answered my question without noticing my discomfort. “It’s a land of barren sand and scrub as far as the eye can see. Our ancestors left when the drought got worse, driving them from the dunes. They found the valley of Rala and were happily settling in when the Viel attacked.” He spoke the words as if he read them off a page in one of his history books, but I pictured the fear on the faces of men and women when they realized their dire error.

  Joven continued, “Thousands were killed, including the original royal family. My great-grandfather, Duke Fasred, led his men under a cover of fire and steel to slay the Viel. They won, but barely. Duke Fasred was granted the title of the first Duke of Rala, and he appointed his four generals as Dukes of the other duchies. I don’t know if you’ve noticed the torch in the courtyard near the front gate.” He glanced at me and I nodded, picturing the giant steel and wood contraption that burned whether it was night or day. “The torch of Rala is kept burning in each duchy as a reminder of the safety we treasure. We owe a great deal to our ancestors, and we can’t forget the price we paid to live here.”

  I walked to the shelves of books and studied the spines. The characters on them made no sense to me, but a longing to read the stories within burned in my soul. If they told of histories like the one Joven recited, perhaps I could find the truth of my origin and my place in the world.

  Joven cleared his throat as if he guessed my thoughts. “I’ve scoured them since your arrival for any word of your ancestry. I’ve yet to find any accounting of men who turn into animals, or,” he glanced at me, “vice versa. Your origin is a mystery.”

  Discomfited, I crossed to the narrow windows that took up meager space between the packed bookshelves. The view gave me a corner of the courtyard below, enough to see the ever-burning torch flickering in the evening light. The shadows of guards moved around the gate.

  I watched them without thinking until their movements sunk into my mind. Mouths opened and arms moved, gesturing quickly. The tall mass of shadows that looked like Master Guard Waylan shouted something. The gate lifted and a rider thunder through. The horse stumbled on the cobblestones, then righted itself and galloped across the courtyard.

  “Something is wrong,” I said. My heart started to pound. Something was definitely wrong.

  Joven rose and moved to the window just as footsteps ran up the hallway. I turned at the sound. Joven moved with me and watched the door. It flew open and Steward Wies ran in just ahead of the black-cloaked rider. The rider threw back his hood and I stared at Lieutenant Aled.

  “He demanded to be seen,” the Steward gasped out. “He wouldn’t stop.”

  Joven lifted a hand. “It’s alright, Master Steward. Thank you for your assistance.”

  Rasmus appeared at the door just as the Steward bowed and left. “I heard the news. How bad is it?”

  “Bad,” Aled replied, gasping for breath. He was holding his arm close to his side. His face was pale and the scent of blood colored the air. “They’re everywhere. The Dukes and Duchesses don’t have enough men to stop them.”

  “Stop who?” Joven demanded.

  “The Viel,” the Lieutenant forced out between clenched teeth. “They attacked just south of Vielkeep. There are too many of them.”

  The remaining color bled from his face. I closed the space between us and caught Aled just as he stumbled. He leaned against me, his strength spent. “He’s been hurt,” I told Rasmus. “He needs a physician.”

  The General’s eyes widened. He lifted Aled’s shirt to reveal a deep, bleeding wound down the length of his ribs. He pulled the Lieutenant’s arm over his head and we helped Aled down the hall toward the palace healers. Joven followed close behind.

  “You’ll ride at my side,” Joven said to me as we waited by the door. The air of command in his words and eyes reminded me of the alpha wolves. It was an order to be followed. I nodded. With Aled being tended to, we hurried down the hall. Joven spoke to four servants at once and each ran in a different direction.

  He and Rasmus left when we reached the main doors. I watched the controlled chaos of a castle preparing for battle. Servants ran back and forth while soldiers gathered in the corridor and the courtyard beyond. The General returned in battle armor with four soldiers behind him. One handed me a short sword and a leather breastplate.

  At my look, the young soldier grinned. “We saw what happened the last time you fought the Viel. Imagine what you could do with some armor and your own weapon.”

  Rasmus slid the breastplate over my head and fastened th
e side straps before I could protest. “If you ride with us, I want you prepared,” he said quietly. “I won’t have a soldier at my side who isn’t armored and armed.”

  I accepted the sword without a word and buckled the sheath around my waist. The armor was thick but didn’t impede my movements because it only covered my chest and back. The weight of the sword was unfamiliar against my side.

  I glanced at the soldier who had given it to me. The man watched me with something akin to awe in his eyes. I lifted an eyebrow like Joven was fond of doing. “If only I knew how to use it,” I said. The comment brought a laugh from the other soldiers.

  The General gave me an appraising look. “I think you’ll do just fine,” he said.

  Soldiers and guards were rallying at Joven’s call. In the space of moments, horses were pulled from the stables and weapons were handed out. I saw a different side of Vielkeep, one far different from the warmth, comfort, balls, and laughter. In its place, the sound of metal sliding into leather sheaths, men talking quietly, horse hooves on stone, and an air of expectancy held. Vielkeep was truly a fortress to be reckoned with.

  One scent rose above them and I turned to see Koya waiting on the stairway above us with a look of worry on her face. Her eyes found mine, then widened when she saw the armor and sword. She shook her head. I hurried up the stairs between us and her hand slipped into mine, breaking my grasp from the sword hilt.

  “You don’t have to go,” she said.

  “Your brother asked me to ride with them. If the Viel are as strong in numbers as they say, he’ll need every soldier fighting if anyone’s to come home alive.”

  She shook her head again. “You’re not a soldier.”

 

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