“Don’t you dare,” Arianne warned when Darkhan raised a grin.
He subsided, lying with his muzzle on his paws once more, his yellow eyes dejected.
“If we had a room,” Kel’Ratan said. “We could lock them in together until they came to terms.”
Arianne brightened for a moment while Darkhan growled.
“I think they’re useless,” I said with an airy wave of my hand. “She should get rid of them both.”
Darkhan raised his head to stare at me, his yellow eyes wide with panic, at the same time Rygel returned with cold meat and his leather satchel. His own dread that my suggestion might prove to be something Arianne took to heart shone from his tightened aristocratic lips and pale skin. He refused to look at me as he sat down once more and began his task of creating Tuatha’s mush.
“What an extraordinary idea,” Arianne replied with a glare at each of them.
Darkhan raised his head and even I recognized the what-did-I-do expression on his face.
“Don’t pout,” Arianne said, “It’s not dignified and makes you look puppyish.”
Pretending to be busy, Rygel bent eyes and ears to nothing but his task of adding his herbal nutrients to the combination of meat and water in a small bag and mashing it all together. His humiliation rose in a faint but clear blush that climbed from his neck to his hairline. If he stirred the mixture any harder I knew he’d break the thin leather bag. I took it from him.
Tuatha’s tail wagged as I fed him his meal, but without the fury of before Raine’s abrupt departure. His blue eyes, all but opened, yet sagged at half-mast. His ate, but without the gusto I knew him capable of. With my free hand, I stroked his furry body, feeling the dryness in his puppy coat and noticed how it no longer gleamed under the sunlight. Despite my care, Tuatha might eat, but he failed to thrive.
Arianne owned a heart bigger than she was, and sappier than mine. She dragged Rygel to her with her arms around his neck and nibbled his ear. That brought a faint grin to his face and a deep sigh from Darkhan. Hearing the wolf’s misery, Arianne’s free hand caressed his face and ears, burying itself in his thick dark ruff.
“I love you both,” she murmured. “Can’t each of you see that?”
Apparently they didn’t, for neither of them commented and two sets of amber eyes met and dueled.
Tuatha ate only half of his meal. Setting aside the bag, I lifted him to my face with my hands under his armpits. He licked his tiny muzzle, staring unhappily into my face.
“Hang in there, little wolf,” I murmured, rubbing his black nose with my own. “We’ll find your papa soon. I promise.”
He whined, his warm meaty-scented tongue lapping my cheek. I kissed him, and wrapped him in my arms until he fell asleep.
The sun set early, as it often did in these higher climes, this late in the year. The first stars emerged from their day of sleep, glowing brightly in the western sky. Despite the firelight in my vision, I counted, five, no six, bright stars in the dusky heavens. I wished on every single one of them. I had only one wish: That one day Raine would be my own.
Gently disengaging himself from Arianne, Rygel cleared his throat. “I think we need to talk.”
Though he slept, I stroked Tuatha’s fur absently. I’d grown fond of the baby in the month or so that he’d been with us. No, fond wasn’t the right word. I loved the little bugger as I might love my own child. Kel’Ratan suggested I should be his mother. Did Tuatha look upon me as his mother in truth? I hoped so.
“What of?” Kel’Ratan asked.
I glanced at him, sensing a tone in his voice I hadn’t heard there for a while. His fierce blue eyes fastened on Rygel as though ready to devour him, absently nibbling on his thumbnail as I often did. Whatever Rygel wanted to say, Kel’Ratan already anticipated what that would be.
“Disguises,” Rygel replied.
Ah. Rygel was quite right. Brutal surely sent word throughout his kingdom of the escaped renegade Kel’Hallans. Now that we stood on the border of civilization once more, we’d need to appear anything but what we were.
I sat up, waving my arm to my boys and the wolves. “Come here, all of you. Shardon and Bar, you too. It’s time for a council.”
Taking their dinners in hand, my boys rose from their places around the fire and sat back down in a loose circle around us. The wolves sat amid their human friends. Shadow and Rannon paired up as though having been friends since time immemorial. Dire, and his brother Lightfoot, both as stolid and silent as the twins, sat between Left and Right. Identical hands left their meal to stroke soft ears in complete unison.
Warrior Dog and Scatters Them sat with Yuri and Yuras. Alun fed Black Tongue some of the meat from his trencher of bread, the huge wolf accepting it delicately. Kip lay with his head on Tor’s lap, his eyes bright in the firelight. With some surprise, Nahar lay down beside Kel’Ratan, my cousin’s hand running absently over his heavy fur and silken ears.
To my absolute shock, White Fang lay with his back comfortably against Corwyn’s hip, his tongue dropping as he yawned. Despite his care that I shouldn’t see it, I witnessed Corwyn’s hand creep to the huge wolf’s neck and work long, scarred fingers into the thick ruff around the wolf’s throat.
I glanced hastily away, before Corwyn’s astute blue eyes registered I noted his affection for the beast. Throughout that week, I’d never seen Corwyn acknowledge the wolves even existed much less ran with us as friends and allies. That he’d formed a strong friendship with one, and wanted to be unobtrusive about it, I felt quite happy to oblige him.
My jaw almost dropped when I saw Joker and Witraz sit down side by side, playfully cuffing one another. Joker grabbed Witraz’s hand, pretending to bite, while Witraz seized a fistful of ruff and yanked. I guessed that the session with the ants made them even. Despite Witraz’s fierce words to the contrary, the two were now fast friends.
I reckoned even Rygel needed his own companion. Little Bull sat beside the wheaten-haired wizard, while Rygel’s slender hand offered bits of cheese to the happy tongue that eagerly awaited them. Rygel, as usual, stared absently toward Arianne, but Little Bull caught my eye. He winked. Lady have mercy, a wolf just winked at me. Little Bull grinned, his tongue lolling, and accepted more cheese. I smothered my own giggle in my shoulder, peeping out from behind the fall of my hair.
I wondered absently if Little Bull would fight if Darkhan should attack Rygel. My gut clenched in dread at the thought. Like Raine, Little Bull carried his brains in his head and not his huge muscles. His wink informed me of his acute perception of the situation and though he loved Rygel, he also liked Darkhan. I hoped for all our sakes he’d find it wiser to stay out of it, like the rest of us.
I noticed Digger lying just outside the firelight, his head on his paws. He watched the activity with a detached, bored attitude, but I knew enough about wolf body language by now to see his longing. There were no humans left for him to form a pact with. While I didn’t quite understand this need for the wolves to find friends with us and vice versa, clearly Digger felt left out.
Silverruff, of course, sat beside me on my right, while Thunder all but squashed me on my left. Deep down, I knew Silverruff owed his loyalty to Raine and none other. He only stayed by me, protected me, as he’d protect Raine’s mate. He didn’t love me as he loved Raine.
On the other hand, Thunder and I formed a strange connection, a bonding that I felt but failed to understand. I loved him, felt as connected to him as I did Bar. I recognized in his brown eyes, love and his union with me. I couldn’t understand him when he spoke, but I knew that if he chose to leave me, my heart would break.
Digger seemed, to me, to crave that tie with a human that everyone else had formed. Nahar attached himself to Kel’Ratan, Little Bull with Rygel, Darkhan with Arianne, Kip with Tor and on down through my warriors.
Digger felt alone, and he hated it. My heart went out to him.
“Digger,” I called, my voice soft.
His ears perked instantly, an
d his head came up, muzzle pointed toward me.
“Do me a favor,” I said. “These two lummoxes are big, but they haven’t a brain between them. I need a wolf with some smarts to keep me safe. You interested?”
Silverruff growled at my words, but Thunder merely sighed. I knew both recognized what my words really meant. When neither objected when Digger trotted to me, tail waving happily, I surmised that, they too, recognized Digger’s need for companionship. Silverruff felt no need for jealousy, as he wasn’t mine. Thunder, as easy-going as Joker, hadn’t a jealous bone in his body and wouldn’t mind sharing me.
“Sit here, with me,” I said, urging him to lie at my feet, next to the fire. Hugging him close, I dislodged an irritated Tuatha, who snarled. Digger licked the pup’s face, earning himself another snarl and a snap. That didn’t deter him from giving Tuatha’s face a thorough washing. Tail thumping the ground, Digger lay against me, all but crushing Raine’s son.
Stroking his ears, I caught smile from Arianne. That smile told me she knew of Digger’s need, but dared not invite him herself. Darkhan would never stand for it. The warriors, of course, were oblivious to the poor fellow’s need to belong somewhere. I smiled back, and gave Digger a kiss.
“Thank you,” I murmured, bringing his muzzle up to my face. “You’re the best.”
Digger offered a half whine, half growl, and licked my neck.
“He says brains are better than brawn,” Arianne translated.
I didn’t need a translator, however. Thunder and Silverruff’s offended expressions told me what he said. I laughed, and hugged Digger close.
Darkness fell with a distinct thud, the heavens loosening the remainder of the imprisoned stars.
“I’m guessing you’ve an idea already,” Kel’Ratan remarked, continuing the conversation. He offered Nahar the remains of his meat and bread.
“Yes,” Rygel replied, shooting me a fleeting glance.
My appetite vanished. In the time since our first acquaintance, I’d learned to read Rygel as easily as I read my horse. Whatever his idea was, he feared I wouldn’t like it. This meant, of course, that I wouldn’t like it. Rygel learned early on how to read me, too.
Taking a deep swallow of my water, I washed down the piece of bread stuck in my throat. Distracting myself, I broke the rest of my heel of bread into pieces and offered them to Silverruff, Thunder and Digger. They accepted graciously, licking their muzzles as they waited politely for more. I gave them the rest of my meat as well. Kel’Ratan scowled.
“You need to eat,” he grumbled. “Or you’ll be as skinny as yonder child.”
He jerked his head toward an affronted Arianne. I shrugged and, as was my usual wont, ignored him.
“Go on,” I said to Rygel. “Pray explain.”
“Down below, within a day’s ride I’m thinking,” he said slowly, “lay the Great Federation Caravan Route. Caravans traverse the area constantly. Wagons loaded with goods bound for Soudan head east while others move west and south and north. Of course, it’s also the path of the slave trade. Traders use it constantly to ferry slaves to markets around the Federation. The desert tribesmen also raid now and again, resulting in strong Federate policing.”
I vaguely recalled Raine’s attempts to cross that very Caravan Route. A busy, industrious highway, filled with a moving mass of humanity. I nodded. “Go on.”
Rygel paused and swallowed his own water, avoiding my eyes. If he didn’t come out with it, I planned to sic Silverruff on him. Darkhan certainly wouldn’t object. Though Little Bull might, I thought, eyeing the huge wolf sidelong.
“Federates patrol the area in numbers,” Rygel finished.
“Nothing less than what we should expect,” Kel’Ratan said, clearly confused by Rygel’s hesitation. “Obviously, our lack of contact with anything remotely resembling human thus far is nothing less than a terrible good fortune.”
“Did you break your tongue on that one?” I asked sourly.
Kel’Ratan scowled and refused to answer.
“What’s the problem, m’lord?” Witraz asked, playfully yanking on Joker’s ear. “We simply stuff Her Highness into yet another Osimi priestess dress and no one will bother us.”
“Stuff me?” I glared at Witraz.
“That won’t work this time,” Rygel said. “There are too many of us. A priestess has an honor guard of only three or four.”
He gestured around the camp to the seating or lying wolves. “The wolves will have to pace us from a distance, obviously. If we ride down out of the hills with a pack of wolves in attendance, we’ll have the entire place about our ears.”
Silverruff grumbled and Digger whined, but I think I knew what they said. I rubbed both sets of ears.
“I’ll be all right,” I said. “So will Arianne. If we have to fight, you’ll not be far away.”
Silverruff relaxed and put his muzzle on his paws with a deeply fetched sigh. Rygel stared at me in surprise, while Arianne smiled. I shrugged. “I’m learning, slowly.”
Rygel now gestured toward Tuatha. “A priestess won’t have a wolf pup. Nor can he go with the rest. He’s too young. We certainly can’t stuff him into a saddlebag and hope he goes unnoticed. He will be noticed.”
“So then what?” I asked, my irritation getting the better of me. “Say what you have in mind and be done with it.”
He gulped, dew dotting his brow and upper lip. Damn him, he looked ready to die of fear on the spot. What was his problem?
“A priestess wouldn’t have a pet,” he went on, tawny eyes anxious. “But a royal lady of the Federation would.”
“A royal lady?” Kel’Ratan asked, confused by his nervousness. “I’m not getting you.”
Rygel wiped his sweaty palms on his tunic. Even Darkhan looked up, eyeing him with speculation. “Picture this: a great aristocrat from Soudan on a pilgrimage. She’s on a religious expedition to seek out the servants of the gods to pray for the soul of her dead husband.”
Kel’Ratan nodded slowly, blue eyes on the fire, his fingers stroking his thick mustache. Witraz shrugged, clearly unconcerned as he playfully pushed Joker onto his side. Joker laughed, fending Witraz off with his paws. Tor ignored the entire discussion, too enthralled with Kip to pay attention. Alun yawned, Left and Right drowsed while sitting up. Yuri and Yuras fingered weapons and eyed Tor sidelong, clearly impatient to teach him some lessons.
“We’ll need new clothing, of course,” Rygel went on. “All of us will need to be dressed in the clothing of Khalid. I’m offering my services to ride this night to obtain them.”
“Why don’t you just create them with your magic, m’lord?” Witraz asked, still cuffing Joker.
“You know well enough by now,” Rygel all but snapped.
Witraz glanced up, dismayed.
“My working magic like that will be heard by Ja’Teel,” Rygel went on. “If he doesn’t know where we are, then we won’t attract his attention needlessly.”
“Oh, right,” Witraz mumbled. “Sorry.”
“What’s bothering you, then?” I demanded. “My portraying a noble woman on a holy pilgrimage shouldn’t have you this uptight.”
My question caught the attention of all humans, Shardon, Bar and every wolf. Why did everyone shut up at once?
To my astonishment, Rygel rolled forward to his knees. He bowed low, hands in front of and placed square on the ground in an almost ritualistic gesture of obeisance. His sweaty brow touched the dusty ground. Even Kel’Ratan gawked.
“My queen,” Rygel said miserably, his face in the dirt. “Forgive me. You misunderstand.”
I swallowed. I hoped I was the only one who heard its dry click.
“Get on with it,” Kel’Ratan snapped when my mouth refused to work properly.
“My queen,” Rygel said, his voice muffled against the dirt. “I feel Princess Arianne should portray the royal lady.”
I blew out a deep breath. So that’s what was bothering him so. “Am I so high-handed that I couldn’t pretend to be
less than a royal princess? Am I so transparent? Or shallow? And you, you idiot, stop that.”
Rygel obeyed me, and sat back on his heels, dirt clinging damply to his forehead. He looked more miserable than ever. Typically, Arianne hid behind her wealth of hair at having been suddenly drawn into the conversation.
“All right,” I said. “I can disguise myself as her sister or something.”
If he looked any more unhappy, I’d have to shoot him to put him out of his misery. And mine.
“A noblewoman on a quest would travel with her household steward.”
His slender hand dropped from his face on down to his knees, indicating himself, his tawny eyes almost tearing up.
“She’d also have with her the captain of her personal guard.” This time his fingers pointed toward Kel’Ratan, who nodded thoughtfully.
Rygel’s hand and eyes then marked Tor. “Her page.”
Tor looked up from his worship of Kip, huge brown eyes wide, his brow puckered in fear. “I don’t know how to be a page,” he said quickly.
“You’ll learn.”
“Her henchmen.” Rygel’s airy wave included my boys.
Wait, I thought, my eyes narrowing. He didn’t include Left and Right.
“And she’d travel with a few slaves.”
His wretched gaze rested on me.
My jaw dropped. “You want me to be a slave?”
“Please, my queen,” Rygel implored, near panic. His lips thinned to a slender white line, wrinkles cupping each end. His skin, so pale as to appear as transparent as he thought I’d be, grew more sweat droplets. Arianne emerged from behind her hair, curious and worried. “Any aristocrat would have slaves.”
Now, at last, his hand, palm up, extended toward a newly alert Left and Right. “Owning a treasure such as a set of identical twin slaves would bring her the envy of even the royal court.”
Left and Right both scowled dangerously.
Once more, his self-castigating eyes rested on me. “Of course she’d have a body slave.”
I didn’t feel affronted at the idea, but Kel’Ratan was. “Now wait – “ he thundered.
I silenced him with a flick of my hand. “Why me?”
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