Renegades Of Wolfenvald, Book Two of The Adventures of Sarah Coppernick

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Renegades Of Wolfenvald, Book Two of The Adventures of Sarah Coppernick Page 27

by SJB Gilmour


  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked Felix.

  The large male whined sadly and nodded towards the still form of the Grey Mane in the centre of the circle. ‘Jasper,’ he told her. ‘He dies tonight.’

  Sarah gave a worried whine and took a few more steps forward. Jasper lay, quite comfortably on a bed of pine needles. His eyes were shut and his breathing was short and shallow. As she approached the old male, the other werewolves moved aside respectfully. Many whined sadly. Sarah stopped before Jasper and sniffed his muzzle gently. In an instant, she knew that the old werewolf was dying of old age. He opened one eye and looked at her.

  ‘Tonight is a fine night to die,’ he whined.

  Sarah knew instantly what she had to do. She turned and looked at the gathered werewolves.

  ‘I’ll need one of you to be human for a while,’ she asked them.

  There were several whines and a few snarls yet none stepped forward.

  ‘Quickly!’ Sarah barked at them.

  Finally, Felix padded forwards. ‘Why?’ he demanded.

  Sarah sniffed at an empty spot on the ground and a large dog brush appeared. ‘If you hurry,’ she told the werewolf pointedly, ‘he will not die tonight.’

  Felix gave a startled whine and the air around him shimmered. Within moments, he had assumed his human form and Sarah was startled by what she saw. Felix was not a man, but a boy who appeared no more than thirteen or fourteen. Unlike his great werewolf form, his human self was skinny and pale. Acne covered his face and his dark brown hair was greasy and unkempt. He had a strangely unemotional expression. He picked up the brush and knelt beside Sarah.

  ‘Be still,’ he told her. He sounded very nervous indeed and as he moved closer to her, Sarah found that he did not smell very nice either.

  The boy Felix brushed Sarah’s golden coat until several hairs had come away. He shook them onto his palm and watched in wonder as one of them turned to gold in the moonlight. He held the single hair out to Sarah with one trembling hand.

  Sarah changed form and took it. She turned to the dying Jasper and knelt down at his side. ‘I can help you,’ she told him. ‘Will you allow it?’ She swallowed then. If Jasper refused, she knew the other werewolves that surrounded her, would not take kindly to her presence as a human. Several warning growls came from the crowd of wolves behind her.

  Jasper opened his eyes and drew back his lips in a defiant snarl. ‘This is not the way of wolves,’ he argued weakly.

  ‘Not the way of Grey Manes,’ Sarah admitted. ‘But is it not the way of Golden Manes to help those in need?’ She bravely reached out and patted Jasper on the back of the head and neck. The low growls behind her suddenly became warning barks and snarls.

  Jasper tensed and then relaxed. ‘Do as you will,’ he said weakly. His breath was getting shallower. ‘I’d always hoped I’d live long enough to see another great hunt. Maybe now I will.’

  Sarah moved her hand forwards, down to his muzzle and pried his mouth open. She quickly pushed the hair into his mouth. Then she stepped back and resumed her werewolf form. The werewolves behind her stopped growling. Though they were silent, Sarah knew the gathered pack was not happy with the actions of this strange Golden Mane. She changed form and nuzzled the prone shape of the dying Grey Mane gently. Then, as she had done before, she focused her power of Wolfenvald within her and gazed directly into the old healer’s eyes. Once more, two great beams of light shot from her eyes into her subject. As she’d experienced with the troll on the sands below Troll Mountain and again with Princess Heather Medici, a flood of memories flowed into Sarah’s consciousness.

  Jasper, she discovered, was very old indeed. Centuries of his memories flashed past Sarah’s mind, including an enormous wealth of medical knowledge. There was a residual pain the old wolf carried with him that was caused by a feud between himself and his brother and the loss of his mate. Sarah shut her mind to that information as she knew it was intensely private. Still, as had happened in the past when she had strangely learned a language in a heartbeat, Sarah felt oddly dizzy as she absorbed the enormous amount of Jasper’s medical knowledge. Finally, when she had finished infusing the old wolf with as much power as she cold, she shut her eyes and the golden beams of light shut off.

  Jasper drew in one long, shuddering breath and his coat shimmered in the moonlight. Each breath the great werewolf took was stronger. The grey around his muzzle darkened to a much more youthful black and silver pattern, His teeth, rounded and worn, grew long and sharp and his body, which had been old and frail, was now fuller and much stronger. Jasper shook himself and stood up. He stretched and yawned then looked up at the moon and gave one long, triumphant howl.

  The other werewolves all whined and yipped and stepped back several paces nervously.

  Jasper turned to face Sarah. ‘You humble me. I won’t forget this.’

  Sarah wagged her tail and smiled at him. ‘I know death is a small thing to a werewolf,’ she said quietly, ‘but if I can prevent it—’ She shrugged.

  Then Jasper sobered. ‘Months ago, The Silver Shroud has called to us all in your name, Golden Mane,’ he told her. ‘Your great hunt is whispered of in prophecies. Remember me, and if you’ll have me, I’ll join your hunt.’

  Sarah knew that her uncle Benjamin had come to Wolfenvald to talk to werewolves about joining their cause. Also, she had an idea that she was going to be at least partially responsible for those who would meet their death in doing so. As yet, she still had no idea exactly what was going to happen. She explained everything to Jasper and the other Firsts of the various packs who had come to watch him die.

  When she explained how her parents had died, several Brown Coats howled.

  One of them began pacing. ‘The Coppernicks were great wolves,’ he growled in an Irish accent. He padded up to Sarah and let her sniff him. ‘I’m Fergus,’ he growled. ‘Any time you need, I’ll help.’

  ‘My pack will join you too,’ one of the Black Coat werewolves snarled. His accent was Scottish and his language much more formal. Then he frowned disapprovingly at Fergus. ‘Such a cavalier attitude is unbecoming.’

  Black Coats are much more formal wolves than most and take themselves quite seriously.

  ‘Let her finish, Mannix,’ Jasper barked at him.

  Sarah then told the gathered wolves how James had established a band of renegades and that she was now studying with Oliver Cromwell. When she told them about the succubi, the wolves went silent. Sarah looked at them in confusion.

  ‘The wraith clans have long been at odds with those in the worlds of sorcerers,’ Jasper explained to her. ‘Many times have the Folk of Were been forced to intervene.’

  ‘If the succubi are prepared to join forces with those who have persecuted them, then yours is a powerful enemy,’ one canny old Red Coat told her. ‘That sounds like a challenge to me. Jasper won’t get all the glory of hunting with you, Golden Mane. I’m sure we can work out a deal so that Red Pack Herschel will answer your howl.’ Then he grinned at Mannix. ‘The old forms of manners have not yet died out among all the orders, young Black. What Browns lack in manners, they make up in other areas.’

  Mannix remained still and expressionless. One by one, the Firsts in the clearing all promised to join Sarah when she called them.

  ‘It looks as though you are gathering quite a force of renegades yourself, Golden Mane,’ Jasper observed. ‘Those present here are few compared to the many you will need if you are to lead us all.’ Then he looked around to face the gathered werewolves. ‘Thank-you all for coming,’ he told them. ‘However, it doesn’t seem to be necessary now.’

  ‘It’s lucky we did,’ Fergus growled.

  ‘I doubt luck had anything to do with it,’ the large Black Coat werewolf called Mannix added. He sniffed at Sarah and then looked up at the stars. ‘There are other forces at work.’ He looked at the gathered werewolves. ‘The prophecies she spoke of affect us as well. We would do well to unite.’

  Several of the werewolves ga
ve triumphant howls. Sarah and the gathered Firsts talked for a long time. Now there were so many together, Sarah could clearly see the differences between the different orders of werewolves. Blacks were tough, headstrong and disciplined. They considered themselves the police of the werewolf world. Browns, equally as tough, were more given to playful antics and rarely missed the opportunity to make a joke. The Reds were sly and crafty and very smart. The Greys, of course, were even smarter. They spoke in careful, measured sentences and they were also very cautious. Greys did not like to take risks and they often argued against some of the more foolhardy ideas from the Blacks and Browns.

  The Whites were perhaps the most beautiful of the werewolves present. Their long silky manes flowed as they moved and their eyes were the colour of the morning sky. They had long snouts and lithe figures. Their ears were tall and tufted with white fur so soft it looked like down. It was only when they spoke that Sarah got quite a surprise. Many of them did not understand fully what was going on. Several of them asked her who she was at least twice. Although they were quite elegant and beautiful, the White werewolves were quite obviously not the most intelligent. Sarah was a little ashamed to admit it to herself but she was quite glad about this. Over the past few years, any number of people had observed that she wasn’t that bright. It was nice to know she wasn’t the dumbest in the class.

  After several more hours of discussion, they left. Some left singly, others loped off into the forest in loose packs. Finally, only an hour before dawn, only Sarah, Jasper and his pack remained.

  Jasper grinned. ‘Will you hunt with us?’ he asked.

  Sarah had only ever hunted with her aunt and uncles before. She nervously wagged her tail. ‘I would be honoured,’ she replied.

  Now Jasper shook his head. ‘You should not say that to me,’ he told her bluntly. ‘And I should not have asked. It is not my place to ask you to do anything and it is I who should be honoured if you hunt with us.’ He whined. ‘Forgive me, Sarah Coppernick. I forgot myself. One thing I know as a healer, and I know you know now too, is that eventually, everyone dies. Death’s an enemy no doctor can ever defeat.’ He wagged his tail mischievously. ‘Just cheating it for even a little while longer is almost as good as life itself! Thank-you, Sarah Kopernik,’ he said much more formally.

  Like the trees and the creek, he used her old Polish family name. Sarah remembered her Uncle Benjamin explaining to her that to Wolfenvald, she would always be a Kopernik, just like her great uncle Mikolaj Kopernik, (or Nicholas Copernicus as the English called him) regardless of what he and his descendants were called later on.

  Sarah was surprised. ‘You don’t have to be so formal around me, Master Stewart,’ she told him gently. ‘I think Grey society is a bit more rigid than what I’m used to.’

  Now Jasper grinned. ‘You are extraordinary!’ he then bounded away, followed closely by the rest of his pack. Sarah followed and soon ran beside the old wolf.

  ‘I don’t feel extraordinary,’ she told him as they ran.

  ‘Ahh, but you are, Golden Mane,’ Jasper replied as he leaped over a fallen tree. ‘Even if you are not the one to call Werenmesse, you will still be considered a great leader among wolves, and if you are to lead, then there are some things you need to work on.’ He stopped and let his pack run on ahead. Felix remained for a moment.

  ‘Go,’ Jasper ordered his Second. ‘I will join you soon.’ Then he turned back to Sarah. ‘If I may be informal for a moment more?’ he asked, quite formally.

  Sarah answered by grinning and wagging her tail.

  ‘Many believe in the legend of Werenmesse,’ he told her. ‘I once had faith in such a thing happening when I was a young cub, but now…’ he left it hanging. Sarah finally thought she was beginning to understand this whole Werenmesse thing. It seemed more like a nursery rhyme than anything concrete.

  Jasper nudged her and she flinched. ‘You mustn’t do that,’ he admonished her. ‘Show no fear. Fear is a sign of weakness. You need more confidence,’ he told her bluntly. ‘A leader must inspire faith in his followers. Any doubts you have, they will detect. Your pack must trust you completely and believe what you tell them.’

  Sarah wagged her tail again. ‘Go on,’ she urged, gratefully.

  ‘You know most of our ways already.’ He looked up and around at the forest surrounding them. ‘This place provides you with all you need to know. It is your instinct.’

  ‘I know,’ Sarah whined. ‘I’ve never felt so at home as when I am here… But I still feel as if this isn’t my real home… Not yet.’

  Jasper nodded sagely. ‘You will find your own range, Golden Mane, and when you do, and mark it as your own, then you will know what we all know.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  Jasper chuckled. ‘That your home is where your pack hunts. Your pack is spread throughout the universe, so it’s no surprise if you feel a little lost. When you know they are all safe and together again, then things will be better.’

  Sarah nuzzled him to thank him.

  ‘There are some of our ways that you must learn for yourself,’ Jasper told her. ‘You must now learn the way of the hunt.’

  ‘Isn’t that what we’re doing?’

  Now Jasper grinned and nipped at her flank. ‘I am First of this pack, yet I have pledged my support to you should you ask. That means when we hunt, you must lead.’

  ‘What will your pack say?’

  ‘I told you,’ Jasper said with a tight grin. ‘My pack will follow my lead. If I follow you, then when we hunt together, I am your Second, just as McConnell is when he hunts with you.’

  Now Sarah understood. She nipped Jasper playfully and the two great wolves bounded off to join the others in the pack. The pack ran almost silently through the trees. Each wolf knew exactly where each other member of the pack was at any given time. One picked up a scent of a forest boar and as one, the nine Grey Manes and one Golden Mane circled in on the great, tusked beast.

  The attack was lightning fast. The boar gave one desperate squeal and made to charge off. It did not get very far. Two Grey Manes tackled a hind leg each, while Sarah and Felix tore at the furious animal’s thick neck. Sarah’s fangs sunk deep into the animal’s throat and once again, her coat was wet with blood. The boar struggled for a few brief moments then lay still and steaming on the forest floor.

  Jasper stood by and pointedly waited for Sarah to take her share of the kill first. Even though she had already eaten those two rabbits earlier, Sarah was hungry again and tore out a large chunk of the boar’s shoulder. She stepped away to gnaw on the meat while the rest of Pack Jasper closed in on the kill.

  After they had eaten, there was precious little left of the carcass. Jasper sat back on his haunches and greeted the morning sun with a long, proud howl. His pack soon joined in. Then Sarah added her voice to the howling of the pack and she felt the pure joy a wolf knows when she belongs to a pack. The forest welcomed her voice and responded in kind. Though the voices of Wolfenvald were not audible to the naked ear, every wolf heard them howling and rejoicing in the strength of the Golden Mane.

  The trees above Sarah swayed slightly to let a shaft of sunlight shine down on her bloody golden coat. Sarah howled again as the warmth of the sun and the fresh kill she had eaten filled her being. The rest of Jasper’s pack gazed at her respectfully.

  Jasper looked at her and grinned. ‘And now you know all there is to know,’ he told her confidently. Then he nuzzled her one last time. ‘We must leave now,’ he told her. ‘We will come again when you call, Golden Mane,’ he promised. ‘In the mean-time, I’ve no doubt the non-werewolves among your campaign will want some statistics about werewolf numbers. We Greys are very good with numbers.’ He wagged his tail then and gave an almost embarrassed whine. ‘The Silver Shroud has already called to the Packs in your name, but there are many who ignored his call. There is a natural hierarchy among wolves and Silver Shrouds are not among them. Second only to Golden Manes, Greys are superior. My call will be answered
more obediently.’

  Sarah grinned and wagged her tail. ‘Thank you, Pack Jasper,’ she replied to them all.

  Jasper wagged his tail. Then he licked Sarah affectionately on the muzzle and bounded off into the forest. Most of his pack followed.

  As had happened last time they met, Felix remained. He approached Sarah, nervously wagging his tail. Sarah studied the Grey Mane calmly. As a wolf, he was certainly a very fine looking animal. His coat was shiny, his eyes and teeth were bright and his flanks and shoulders were very well muscled. Then she remembered his greasy, skinny and really quite smelly human appearance and wondered just how she should approach the matter. After all, Sarah was much too polite to come right out and say that the boy needed to take a bit more care of his appearance. For a brief moment, she wished her friend Mel was there. Her quick-tempered friend would have had no qualms at all when it came to telling Felix to clean up his act.

  Now wolves are very sensitive animals. They communicate with expression and movement as much as they do with their voices and thoughts. Felix caught Sarah’s concerned expression.

  ‘I spend very little time as a human,’ he told her by way of apology. ‘For me, the change came very early and I was taken in by Jasper.’

  Embarrassed, Sarah wagged her tail. ‘You are a very handsome wolf though,’ she stressed.

  Felix grinned. ‘That is one reason why I do not spend much time on two legs,’ he told her. ‘I feel out of place as a human. I do not like it.’ He frowned. ‘Is it the same for females?’ he asked then. ‘Is being a human always so hard?’

  Sarah laughed and for the first time in her life felt as though she could actually talk with and understand how a person her own age felt.

  The two talked and ran for a few hours and Sarah was amazed at just how much the two had in common. Felix too, she learned, had lost his family when he was young. Uncle Benjamin had found him and handed him over to Jasper.

 

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