Prince Wolf

by A. Katie Rose

  Arianne’s giggle created an even darker flush, if that were possible.

  I dared not speak. I dared not laugh. I dared not even breathe. Should I show any sort of humor at all, I feared they’d fall dead on the spot. I’d never live with myself if my faithful twins died of mortification caused by my giggles.

  I coughed, cleared my throat. “Well,” I said hoarsely. “Let’s get on then. Daylight’s wasting.”

  Left and Right plunged toward their horses, vaulting into their saddles. When Witraz, Alun and Rannon might make sport of their plight, my glare skewered them, freezing them, into place. In a quick gesture, I slashed my finger across my own throat. Three sets of jaws slammed shut on teeth. Three throats bobbed in gulps. Three sets of eyes widened. A lightning glance showed me Left and Right in their saddles, their backs to me. Lifting my finger to my lips, I scowled dangerously at the errant trio.

  With hasty bows of apology, they hurried to their own mounts. If I heard choked coughs aplenty, at least Left and Right didn’t hear laughter.

  I started in surprise when I found Kel’Ratan at my shoulder. He stared after the embarrassed twins with something akin to sympathy in his blue eyes. He smiled when he found me watching him.

  “They’re just boys, really,” he said simply. “They’re still very innocent in many ways.”

  Leaving me to gape, he walked to his own bay stallion and swiftly mounted up. Mikk nuzzled my shoulder, clearly asking what the delay was. I caressed his silken muzzle, circled his jaw with my arms and rested my head against his.

  Bar blew in with a raucous screech, the wind from his wings blowing my hair about my face. Dragging it out of my eyes, I watched him settle to earth a short distance away. Furling his wings, he trotted to me, the blood on his beak and mane told me where he’d been. Hunting.

  “Save anything for the rest of us?” I asked, digging a rag from my saddlebag to wipe him clean.

  He chirped.

  I glanced around. “If any wolves are interested, he left a bit for you. It’s just beyond the hill yonder.”

  I nodded toward the closest hill to the southwest, crowned by a thicket of pine and oak trees. Dire, Black Tongue, Scatters Them, Kip, Digger and Warrior Dog raced away at top speed. Galloping up the hill, they disappeared into the thicket. The rest of the wolves watched them go, some with interest, but most yawned, or scratched persistent itches, or lay down to wait on the rest of us. Silverruff walked to my side, his tail waving gently, to rub affectionately, catlike, against my leg. His head on a level with my chest, I rubbed his ears, playfully slapped his muzzle. “Time to ride –“

  The idea hit me with nearly the force of a thunderbolt. I wheeled, staring at Bar so fiercely he stepped back, his beak widening in dismay.

  “You,” I said, stepping away from Mikk and Silverruff, pointing my finger. “I can understand you.”

  He hissed, his wings half-flaring. I know.

  “But,” I said, stepping toward him slowly. “With Rygel’s magic I can understand you better.”

  He squawked. What do you mean?

  “With you up there.” I pointed skyward. “You can see a long way and drop down within seconds.”

  Bar again stepped back, away from me, his tail lashing from side to side.

  “Yet, I’ve no way to call you, should you be out of sight.”

  “Of course.”

  Rygel’s intruding voice suddenly startled me.

  “Of course what?” Kel’Ratan snapped, clearly confused. “What’re you two babbling on about?”

  “A mental connection,” Rygel answered, rubbing his hands together in glee. “Mental communication between Her Highness and Bar.”

  Bar’s beak dropped. I grinned. “Are you game?”

  He answered when he stepped forward with raptor beak wide in an eagle grin, his raptor eyes gleaming with confidence, with happiness.

  “All right,” Rygel said, blowing on his fingers and flexing them. “For this to work, we three must be in physical range of one another. Touching each other, in a circle.”

  I began to reach for his hand, then hesitated. “Will Ja’Teel hear this magic?”

  He shook his blonde mane impatiently. “Doubtful. This sort of magic is subtle, internal. It generates very little noise.”

  He seized my left hand in his, and reached up to cup Bar’s beak. I felt no little surprise that Bar allowed such intimacy with a human outside myself or my father. In his turn, Bar sat down and dropped his face, drawing closer, to me. With my right hand, I buried my fingers in the feathers of his cheek, burrowing down until they met his warm skin. Raptor eyes gleamed down at me with love enough to make me choke on tears.

  “Close your eyes,” Rygel commanded.

  I don’t know if Bar obeyed, but I did, shutting out the sunlight and the interested stares of wolves, humans and Shardon.

  “Relax,” Rygel’s voice ordered quietly. “Breathe evenly. In and out. In and out. Just breathe.”

  His soft voice, carried on his own slow exhalations, soothed and created within me a deep tranquility, a lethargy that stole across my limbs and my mind. I breathed in complete harmony with him. Bar’s own breathing slowed to match ours. Three hearts beat in the identical, slow rhythm. Like distant drums, I heard them, the thrumming of our hearts, their measured cadence. Dropping deeper, I felt blood push through our veins, felt the magic seep like the dawn’s mist through our bodies.

  My mind, where once I called it my own, now merged with Bar’s. I felt his thoughts, he felt mine. I knew his emotions, he shared mine. I saw into the complex myriad thinking of an intelligent creature, albeit an alien creature. One set apart from me by blood, by species, and by the span of generations of hatred.

  I opened my eyes. I stared into the yellow, raptor gaze of a natural born killer.

  The killer who loved me.

  I smiled. Enclosing that deadly beak into my arms, I shut my eyes again, resting my head on his brow. His talon cupped my lower back, holding me close.

  “Did it work?”

  Bar’s voice in my head sounded to me like sweet music.

  “Stupid question.”

  His inward chuckle brought my own laughter bubbling forth.

  “That bloody wizard has his uses after all.”

  As Rygel hadn’t reacted to Bar’s comment, I knew he left himself out of the mind link. I still giggled, however.

  “I’ve a question,” Bar said.

  “What, my love?”

  “Why didn’t we make him give us this a long time ago?”

  While I thought I knew Bar’s language, understood all he had to say, in conversing with him, I recognized now I knew nothing. At this moment, mind to mind with him, I realized I understood only the simplest of Bar’s speech. I’d no inkling of the complexity of his mind or the wide range of his emotions. Then, at that time, he spoke the equivalent of griffin baby talk. This, here and now, was the real Bar.

  Humor tinged his voice in my mind. “I know. It feels weird to me, too.”

  “Well?”

  Kel’Ratan’s sharp demand made me turn. I’d almost forgotten those that waited with bated breath on what just transpired. I blinked as I found nine sets of human eyes, an uncounted number of wolfish eyes and one set of Tarbane eyes all staring at us.

  “Um,” I said. “It worked.”

  “You can understand him?” Kel’Ratan asked, mustache bristling. “In your head?”

  “Yes. No matter where Bar is, or where I am, we can hear each other.”

  “Tell him his mustache looks like a scrub brush.”

  I wheeled on Bar, choking on my laughter. “I won’t. He’ll kill me.”

  “Oh, please.”

  Kel’Ratan, intelligent as he was, suspected we jested at his expense. His blue eyes narrowed dangerously.

  Swallowing my laughter, I said, “Daylight’s wasting. Let’s move.”

  My slavish clothes made no hindrance to my grabbing a thick handful of mane and vaulting aboard.

&nb
sp; Weapons. I still needed weapons. Mikk, of course, would protect me with deadly teeth and very hard hooves. However, I needed more than just one loyal stallion if we came under attack from Brutal or any other enemy. I may be forced to pretend slavery, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have to become one.

  Twisting in his saddle, I buried my sword, bow and quiver in the pack over his rump. From deep within the myriad of things I carried, I retrieved a set of five wickedly sharp daggers in their sheaths. I very seldom used them, but liked to keep in practice whenever possible by casting them deep into tree trunks. Holding them up to Left and Right as an example, I used one to cut a short length of rope and tie it about my waist. It kept the woolen tunic from hanging about my torso like a grain sack and made for some very interesting hiding places. I hid my daggers in various places about my hips, legs and breasts, making certain I could draw one in an eye blink.

  Left and Right, aboard their black stallions, followed my lead, hiding their warrior’s weapons and digging out their own normally unused killing knives. Rygel’s choice of clothing allowed many places one might conceal a sharp, edged weapon. All the hilts held extra weight for throwing. Despite Kel’Ratan’s words to the contrary, I could throw a knife with the best. Kel’Ratan was always the jealous sort.

  “I also found this,” Rygel said.

  He held in his hands a fantastically ornate bridle, jeweled richly in diamonds, garnets, pearls, rubies, amethysts and smaller gems I couldn’t place immediately. My jaw dropped before I could command it not to. That bridle was worth a king’s ransom. At the very least.

  Arianne’s huge glorious eyes widened in shock.

  “Where the bloody hell did you get that?” Kel’Ratan demanded, stalking toward a grinning Rygel for a closer look. His mustache bristled in a combination of Kel’Hallan outrage against such ostentation and the sheer awe of its raw beauty.

  “A jeweler was crafting it for a rich merchant,” Rygel drawled, his tawny eyes laughing as he held up the gaudy piece into the light of the sun. The jewels came alive, dancing in the joy of a new day. “I relieved him of its heavy burden. I did him a favor, actually.”

  “How do you figure that?” Kel’Ratan asked, fingering the fine leather and sparking gems.

  “The jeweler can decamp with the merchant’s money in his pocket, a wealthy man,” Rygel said. He squinted at the sun as though calculating, but I recognized the pause for drama, to gather eyes. I remembered suddenly there was a great deal to hate about our wizard Rygel. “He hadn’t, as far as I knew, paid for the jewels themselves.”

  “And the merchant?”

  “Will find himself without this bridle and a bit poorer for the experience.”

  “Won’t he exact his vengeance?”

  “Only if he catches the miscreant,” Rygel replied with a grin. “I expect that bad boy is halfway to Soudan by now.”

  “Won’t someone recognize that damn thing?” I asked.

  Rygel shrugged.

  I have my knives, I thought, reaching for one. He’d never know it when I struck his heart.

  “Not likely,” he replied. “The jeweler is the only one who knows what it looks like and he’ll be long gone before we even hit the sand below.”

  Leaving Kel’Ratan and I to eye each other in dismay, Rygel turned to Arianne, his smile and the heavily bedecked bridle entrancing that easily entranced girl. Darkhan growled, low in his throat, his yellow eyes slanted. Rygel knew his lavish gift would turn Arianne toward him, I thought, watching the three of them. Darkhan had no means to offer her material things. Rygel could. He just did. Both of them knew it.

  Tor, already saddling Rufus for her, bowed himself aside as Rygel bridled him with his lavish gift. Arianne, her heart in her glorious eyes, stroked Rufus’s bony face and buried her tiny face in his thick black mane. Rufus, for his part, nudged her affectionately with his muzzle, all but toppling her into the dirt. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes. Where once they shone with a hard edge, they now glowed a soft, bright brown. As though his diminutive mistress had smoothed all the jagged edges in the stallion’s soul and rounded them with love.

  Where was the horse that kicked or bit anyone who came near? Where was the warhorse who killed to protect Raine? Damn it. I gnawed my knuckle, praying that if we needed Rufus to protect her, he hadn’t softened into buttery syrup. If things go against us down there, we’ll need all the sharp edges we can get.

  “I also discovered this.”

  With a flourish, Rygel seized a pack and brought forth a caparison made of tawny cloth of gold. Sweeping it up and out, he settled it onto Rufus’s saddle, effectively covering it. This, at least, I could approve of. Arianne’s saddle was of leather and fur, a Kel’Hallan saddle. Not the typical saddle of a great aristocrat. The caparison allowed the saddle to be used, yet made it appear not what it truly was. The stirrups he slid through the holes made for them, leaving Rufus to stand under the sun and shine.

  “Oh.”

  That small word was all Arianne managed to breathe. Eyes huge in her small face, she stared at her stallion with all the wonder of a child. Her hands she clasped under her chin, her fair lips parted in sheer awe and delight. Rufus munched his bit and shook his mane, clearly wondering what was keeping her from mounting.

  “Allow me,” Rygel spoke, as though answering him.

  Dropping to his knee, he invited her to step into his laced fingers. She obeyed, holding her brocade gown up with her right hand. Standing straight, he tossed her lightly into her saddle, where she competently sat, gathering her skirts about her. As she took up her velvet reins, Rygel gently introduced her feet into her stirrups and gazed lovingly up into her eyes. Of course, like in any romance story ever told, she gazed down at him with the same exact amount of adoration. I felt sick when he lifted her fingers from her reins to kiss, wanted to slap her when she bent low over her pommel to brush his eager lips with her own.

  For my heart broke over the pain of another.

  Poor Darkhan, left in the cold, tossed aside like so much rubbish, slunk away, beaten, angry and bewildered.

  “Despicable,” I muttered, my heart reaching for the grieving Darkhan.

  “Not really, Your Highness,” Alun said.

  His soft voice startled me. He’d walked his horse close beside Mikk and I hadn’t heard him. “Didn’t Prince Raine say that all was fair in love and war?”

  I turned on him. “This is cruel. Rygel has means to court her that Darkhan hasn’t.”

  Alun watched as Darkhan, growling low in his throat, sat outside the circle of wolves, horses and warriors. “But, Your Highness,” Alun answered slowly. “Darkhan doesn’t belong, anyway. He’s a wolf. He should find a wolf mate. Not a human one.”

  “He loves her.” My heart choking my throat, that was all the answer I could summon.

  “That may be,” Alun replied, softly. “And I admire him for it. But he’s wrong. As much as I despise a bastard, and especially one who aspires to align with royal blood, Lord Rygel and Princess Arianne match beautifully. The bastard and the princess belong. The wolf doesn’t.”

  “What about me?” I snapped down at him, as he stood beside my stirrup. “I love a wolf, too.”

  “Ly’Tana.”

  Alun’s softly chiding voice caught me by surprise. How long has it been since he last called me by name? Ten years? Twelve?

  “That’s different and you know it.”

  Alun’s eyes watched Darkhan as he sat alone, his ears slack, muzzle pointed toward the earth, his misery etched in his every feature. “Prince Raine is both a man and a wolf. Physically, more man, anyway, though I wonder. Darkhan cannot be her mate as he desires. He should learn to accept this.”

  “But – “ I began, wanting to explain how much the poor dear hurt just now.

  Alun’s hand closing over mine choked off whatever I might have said in defense of the big, dark, golden-eyed wolf.

  “No buts,” Alun said firmly. “Personally, I like Rygel, despite his background.
I adore Her Highness. I also like Darkhan. There’s no choice here. Rygel and Her Highness belong together. Darkhan, by the sheer chance that made him a wolf, loses by default.”

  “Had he been born a man,” I murmured, my heart aching.

  “Then we’d be looking at an entirely different horse,” Alun agreed. “But he wasn’t.”

  “So what are you telling me?” I asked, drawing a ragged breath.

  “Stay out of it.”

  “What? I can’t – “

  “He’s right,” Bar said from beyond the circle, pausing in the preening of his left wing. Though he half-turned his head to cock one raptor eye one me, he didn’t cease his grooming.

  “What do you know?” I scoffed.

  “I love you more than my own life,” Bar answered calmly, his vocal chirp coinciding strangely with the mental voice in my head. I really needed to get used to that. “In my guardianship, I’d offer up my life to keep you safe, and die happy. With you, my life is complete, and fulfilled. But I don’t love you as my mate. We – are not right.”

  I sat back into my saddle, still, pondering Bar’s words, Mikk shifting his feet restlessly under me. Bar loved me beyond all reason, all life. Yet, he didn’t desire me as a mate. My mind turned to the possibilities. How can we turn Darkhan to that very same way of thinking? To love Arianne more than he loved life, yet accept that she and he are not a right fit?

  “Good luck with that,” Bar answered my thoughts with humor.

  I waved a negligent hand. “Talk to him. Maybe you can help him out.”

  Bar raised a talon and scratched an itch just under his right eye. “Hel-lo,” he replied. “I don’t speak wolf and he certainly doesn’t speak griffin.”

  “I’m learning wolf. Maybe I need to learn it faster,” I said, thinking hard, chewing my lower lip. “There must be a way.”

  “Don’t sweat it. It’ll work itself out in time.”

  “Time? How much time do we need? Rygel and Darkhan will be at each other’s throats before the sun comes up again.”

  “I think you know better than to argue with me.”