Wolf in Night

by Tara K. Harper

  She said instead, “So what did you find out about Hunter?”

  “Hunter,” he frowned. “That’s the shorter one, right? The skinny one?”

  She raised one eyebrow, then looked down at her legs, her arms, and finally at her scratched-up hands.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just checking to see if I was born yesterday.”

  Payne gave her an old-fashioned look. “Alright, so I talked with Memory Dahl.”

  She hid a smile of her own. The most important people in a cozar train weren’t the Ells or Hafells, but the memories, the people who had inherited the engineered genes for perfect recall. They had become the walking libraries on whom the fortunes—and lives—of a caravan could rest. Payne almost always bid for their caravan based on the memory talker, just as Nori bid based on route.

  These days, Payne was always bargaining for a position on the memory’s wagon seat. Kettre said it was to learn as much as he could file away in his far-too-organized brain. In Memory Dahl’s case, that was considerable. The woman could recite the structure of four of the original nine counties, from Lloroi to elders, to guild and trade leaders, to merchants and craftsmen, even to the outlying farmlands. Memory Dahl even understood the tangled hierarchy of the Houses of Sidisport, where House leaders juggled status the same way young boys juggled excuses.

  This year, Payne had bribed Memory Dahl with a fine-tooled, leather-backed comb, a packet of eastern tea, and an oddly wrapped package from Nori. It was the latter that had made the old woman’s eyes light up enough that she granted Payne two full afternoons, not just two hours, for their scheduled travel. He scowled at his sister. At the time, he’d have given two fingernails to know how she’d found out that the old woman’s driving seat could use new shocks. When he’d said that to Nori, she’d bargained him first into doing her fireside duty, and only then confessed that old bones were like those of tree sprits, brittle and easily rattled. Memory Dahl always needed new shocks. Payne had been stuck on fireside cleanup for two days while Nori lounged on the wagon gate and plunked on her dinged-up guitar.

  He knew he shouldn’t complain. By the end of the fourth day riding, he’d had a list of merchants and fighters who had bid and lost out on berths in Ell Tai’s caravan, a gossip tally of the ten Sidisport chovas who had won this caravan’s guest lottery, descriptions of five raiders supposedly causing trouble in this district—not that he expected to see them himself, what with the crowd of outriders in the train—and the detailed history of a pair of frauds. The last two had earned bok’vah among the cozar several years ago for abusing the aid they were offered.

  “So, what did you find out?” Nori prompted.

  Payne gathered his thoughts. “Condari’s out of Wyakit, one of the first Tamrani Houses, but you knew that. If you didn’t,” he added dryly, “you deserve another Wakje-slap.” He nodded at her flush. She hadn’t bruised, but that was only because it was Wakje giving the lesson. Had it been Aunt Oroan, she’d have been marked far into next ninan. “The short take is that your Brithanas has been in the western counties for the last four years, is well respected among the traders, and is said to be a fair hand in a fight.”

  “He’s not my Brithanas,” Nori said sharply, but she was disgruntled. “A fair hand—did you get that from the memory or from one of your new girlfriends?”

  He shrugged. “Does it matter? City gossip has it that he came back to Sidisport on a summons from his mother. Now he’s heading up to Shockton, and he’s already got two slots in the council meetings, early in the ninan. That means he’s offering or proposing something, and that he wants the answer fast, before he goes back to town. It also means he’s powerful. Two slots early on gives him a chance to go before the council again if he doesn’t like the answer. That’s two slots more than most elders get.”

  “It’s amazing,” she said dryly, “how much you learn from your doe-eyed liaisons.”

  “If you’d try a few liaisons once in a while, you might learn something of interest yourself.”

  She ignored that. “First House, first century,” she murmured.

  “Aye. They’re not as rich as some, but they’ve been around, well, forever.” Payne pulled her to a stop, glanced around the deserted firewood bins, and lowered his voice even farther. “They’re powerful, Nori-girl. You want to know how he got his rep-name? Three years ago, he was taking a trade caravan across Bilocctar. He’d gone ahead with one of his people to negotiate a crossing, and the wagons were hit by raiders. For some reason, Brithanas had no gold to his name at the time, but he put together three different venges on favors alone and started hunting raiders. He tracked down every one of the attackers within two ninans, and then he hit their backers—and you know that caused some ripples. He said it would make them think twice before looking at his cargo again. He’s had almost no trouble since. He used to be called Noble Hunter. Now it’s just Hunter.” Payne shook his head. “Nori-girl, he’s got ties to half the councils in half of the original counties. You might as well have asked an elder to guard your back as ride the night with him.”

  She hid her growing unease. “I’m starting to realize that—” She broke off. As the noise from the fireside got louder, she had been absently straining to hear the softer night sounds. Now the sense of what she’d not quite heard finally filtered up to her consciousness.

  Payne’s hand went to his knife at her stillness, but she held up her hand to freeze him. She turned, listened, and took two steps back toward the stables. It had been a small sound almost lost against the distant noise of fireside, but it had not been a natural one. She cocked her head. A flurry of small scufflings came from the right. Her violet eyes narrowed, but as realization hit, her feet were already moving.

  Payne didn’t waste breath to curse. He was on her heels when she skidded around the stable corner. He had a single glimpse of the struggling figures—one tall, grey-haired, gagged, and wild-eyed, with his arms bound behind him; and the other, just as tall but built like a stevedore, hauling the first along. Nori launched herself like an arrow. Silent as she was, the husky man sensed her. He whipped his head around, had time to shift. All three went down in a tangle of flailing limbs. Nori grabbed for the elder. Payne saw the attacker’s arm rise, the sheen of steel, the knife begin to fall. His heart froze even as he felt his legs bunch and go. Then Nori twisted off the elder, slammed her knuckles into the thick man’s gut, kicked his knee out, and bared her teeth like a wolf. In the darkness, her growl shocked the man for the hair of a second. Then her claw-hand struck the inside of his arm and tore deep into muscle, and she slammed her other elbow up under his knife wrist. The raider jerked. His blade cut cloth instead of flesh. She stiff-fisted his gut as the blade slashed back, and jerked away just in time. He missed with the knife, but not with his other fist. She tumbled back, and he lunged to his feet.

  Then Payne tackled him like an ax on a log. The kick meant for Nori missed, and the man’s knee smashed into Payne’s hip; a fist glanced off Payne’s cheekbone. The two men broke apart, scrambled back to their feet barely long enough to leap for each other. The knife cut jerkin and scored Payne’s ribs, and Payne grabbed the man’s forearm. Nori lunged in for his wrist. Her hand slid over a meaty fist, caught one thick finger, and wrenched it back hard. She felt the bone tear free through tendons and tissue. Then his elbow hit her ribs. She missed the full pressure hold, and staggered back to her knees, unable to catch her breath. Payne’s other fist slammed again and again up into the man’s gut. The knife finally dropped, and the two men crashed into the barrier hedge.

  Well-shorn bushes cushioned their fall, but spikes inside the hedge grazed Payne’s scalp; another pierced the top of his shoulder. The other man jerked as thorns cut his face. Neither cried out. The thick man thrust Payne sideways and scrambled to his feet, bleeding from his cheek and hand. He pulled a second knife from his boot and threw it at the bound form of the elder even as he turned to run. Nori shoved the old man down hard. The elder fell a
wkwardly to his knees, and the blade split the air between them. Payne struggled out of the shrubs, and Nori lunged back to her feet. The raider pulled a third knife and poised, ready to throw.

  On the balls of her feet Nori stilled. Payne froze. The raider backed carefully away. He didn’t want to throw his last knife, but if he had to, he would. Nori slid one step toward him, and he shifted menacingly.

  “Nori-girl, no,” Payne breathed. In the dark, he couldn’t tell if her violet eyes were clear, but he could almost see the growl deep in her throat, not quite under her breath.

  Challenge. Fight, Rishte snarled.

  Her lips curled back. I want him. Want his flesh in my teeth. Want his blood for my brother’s.

  The man stepped back again and found the shrub channel. His dark expression found hers with grim promise. He threw himself into the dark.

  “Dik spit.” Payne scrambled to his feet. “Is every raider in the county coming down on the cozar? What the hell is wrong with everyone? Nori-girl, are you alright?”

  His words were loud—too loud. Her ears were filled with her pulse, her breathing, their breathing, their sounds. She stared after the attacker.

  Human-thing, running. Feet hard on the ground. Blood, hot. Close, still close.

  She wanted to chase, to taste skin and blood.

  “Nori?” Payne said sharply. “Are you okay?”

  She didn’t turn, but her lips moved. She caught the snarl before it got out and formed the human words, “Aye. Just bruised.” Her jaw ached and her ribs were burning. “You?”

  “Scratched, and I’ll have a sore knee tomorrow.” He helped the elder to the man’s feet while she stared down the barrier bushes. It was Rishte’s ears, not hers, that heard the soft, quick steps. The attacker wasn’t some bumbling idiot green from first rank. He’d been trained enough to be able to dodge both Nori and Payne without blinking, to let go rather than risk getting caught, and to run quietly on dark, uneven trails. She didn’t even suggest that they chase him out onto the bridle path that ringed the cozar circle.

  Rishte eased closer in the forest, so that Nori could almost feel his fur on the ferns. Challenged, triumph. Pack safe, safe. His satisfaction with her was clear.

  She snarled her agreement mentally. She started to turn, but realized her teeth were still bared. She took a breath, cleared her expression, then stalked back to the elder.

  Payne had brushed Connaught off, but the older man’s eyes were still wide. The elder jerked his head toward the shrub line and mmphed at them both. Nori shook her head. “It’s too late to raise the alarm. It’s full dark. He’s already got his dnu, and it would take time for us to saddle up and follow—if we could.”

  Payne scanned the bushes. “I agree.” He looked back at the elder. “Also, we’ve three wagon trains here, dozens of individual families, and the town crowd in and out of the circle like juice through a sieve. There’d be a full panic at the fireside with all the parents screaming for their children. He’d get away in the confusion alone, or be able to try again. And the cozar won’t go out in this darkness. Not with children in the train. That’s just asking for hostages. Considering—” He glanced at Nori, and said instead, “—other things, it might be just what they want.”

  The elder mmphed at him as Nori tried to loosen his gag. The knot was tight enough that it had cut the old man’s mouth. His lips had already swollen around it, and his breathing was restricted and labored. The wolfwalker’s eyes narrowed at the knot. The attacker had had no intention of ever removing the gag. Connaught had been destined for death, not ransom. “Stay calm, breathe slowly,” she told the older man. “This will take a minute.” She could almost see the thin pulse in his neck.

  Payne snagged a lantern from one of the darkened wagons. He lit it, then squatted to study the tracks.

  Connaught’s bony fingers trembled as they jerked futilely at his bonds. “Wait,” she told him. “Be still. This may cut a bit.” She drew her blade and worked it sideways under the leather. A moment later, the gag was free, and she started in on his wrists.

  “Damn raider spawn.” The older man choked out the curse around bloody lips. “Black Wolf,” he managed belatedly. “NeBentar. Moonsblessing on you both.”

  “You’re alright, then?” she asked.

  “Yes, although a few more minutes, and it would have been a different story. If I were ten years younger—”

  “You did alright,” Payne cast back. “If you hadn’t slowed him down enough to make some noise, you’d have been outside the barrier bushes and dead before anyone knew it.”

  Nori nodded. The elder’s wrists were puffy around the thongs. “Payne, give me a hand here.”

  His eyes were still on the shrubs. “Can you hear anything?”

  She knew what he meant. “He went west along the bridle path, then up into the woods. That’s all I can tell. He wasn’t one of the arch—”

  “Aye,” Payne cut in quickly. “I didn’t recognize him, either. Take this back.” He handed her the lantern. “I’ll get the thongs off.”

  “I was in the stables,” Connaught explained. “Sharkun—Sharkun Backhills—had just left for the fireside, and I was going to follow as soon as I checked the tack.” Payne nodded as he worked at the leather. Elder Connaught had traveled long enough over the years that he double-checked his gear every night. “That man came out of nowhere. One minute, I was alone, the next, I was down in the straw with that rag in my mouth and my hands behind my back.”

  Nori thought back to her night run, the bodies, and the ring-runner who’d been set upon. “Did he say anything?”

  “Yes.” The elder’s voice was dry. “Not to struggle if I wanted to live. By the way he tied the gag, I thought that was a bit moot.” He added unsteadily, “He couldn’t have picked a better time to take me. Everyone is at fireside or in town at festival. With three caravans here and all the Test traffic, there’s good trade going on in both places. Lots of riders in from the roads, songsters in from the other trains. There might be ten people still trying to sleep, but the rest are staying out.” He shivered. “Makes me wonder if Thella really did ride away at all.”

  Payne frowned down at the bonds as he worked the blade under gently. “You mean the elder who left back at the Chain River?”

  “The one from Bitston, yes.” His voice grew sharp. “You know that no one actually saw her go. Her gear and dnu were simply gone when the morning count was taken. If she didn’t leave on her own, if this happened to her, too . . .” His voice trailed off ominously.

  “Damn lucky we were near,” Payne muttered.

  The old man nodded tersely. “I’d have thought, with the Tamrani among us, you two would be at fireside.”

  “Nori didn’t wake up till a bit ago,” Payne explained. “She wanted to . . . hang on, I’ve almost got it. Clean up first,” he finished. “There. Easy,” he warned as the older man eased his arms forward. “You should see the healer. Those are pretty bloody.”

  “I’ll see the Ell first,” Connaught stated flatly. “This wants action.” But the old man was cradling his wrists and clenching his hands at the same time. Nori could imagine the needles of pain that pierced those old, stringy muscles. The elder gave her a shaky grin as he saw her worry. “It’s a fine way to start your council duty, Black Wolf—saving a council leader.”

  Nori’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d done.

  “Here now,” the older man said. “What’s the matter?”

  She almost backed away. “Oh, hells, I didn’t mean—”

  “Black Wolf has other duties right now, Elder Connaught,” Payne cut in smoothly, stepping in front of her. He brushed at some of the blood that had dripped on the older man’s tunic. “And Noriana maDione is on the trade lists, Elder Connaught, not the council lists. She will take up her council duty in time, when our parents approve it, but not before the Test ninan.”

  “Of course, of course. Your Test.” The elder nodded, winced, and touched the corner of his to
rn mouth.

  “Besides,” Payne added, “any council duty Nori takes on would have to be approved by the Lloroi.”

  “Handy to have him as an uncle, eh? Lets your family get first pick for your skills?” Connaught tried to chuckle, but he was still shaking, and the sound came out more like a gasp. It frightened the old man. He took a couple of breaths and blinked. Payne and Nori looked far too serious for the comments he’d just made. “Ariye has always looked out for her neighbors,” he told them slowly. “I consider this no more than the same.” Interesting, he thought, how relieved Black Wolf looked. He took two steps, sucked in a breath, and started to crumple. Payne grabbed his arm, and Nori caught his elbow. For a moment, he sagged in their grip. Then he straightened. His wrinkled hand trembled as it went to his head. “Must have hit me harder than I thought.”

  Nori ran her hand over his scalp and found the goose egg.

  “Can you walk?” Payne asked in a low voice.

  “He was hit in the back, not the front,” Nori told him. “It’ll be nausea and eyesight, not walking to worry about. The lump doesn’t look too big, though, and he was only out for a moment—”

  Connaught’s pale eyes sharpened. “How do you know that, Black Wolf?”

  She shrugged. “I heard you talking a few moments before.”

  “You heard me being attacked?”

  “No. We were down here, too far away, and he must have been very quiet going in.”

  “Or quiet while he was waiting,” suggested Payne.

  The other two looked at him sharply.

  Payne shrugged at the old man. “You go to the stables every night. You stay late to tend your gear.” He nodded at the elder’s swollen, bloody hands. “You might want to watch how much time you spend alone in the future, Elder Connaught. Or at least change the pattern of your daily tasks.”

  The older man nodded slowly. “I will do that, neBentar.” He glanced at Nori and said to Payne, “If I thought you’d take the duty, I’d hire the two of you in a minute to ride keyo for me.” He smiled wryly at Nori’s expression. “Don’t worry, Black Wolf. I won’t insist.” He started to turn away, but stopped. “You might want to watch out for Elder Mato, though. Someone’s told him to push for duty from you, and he’s never liked taking no for an answer. He thinks it makes him look smaller—as if he’s not small-minded enough,” the old man added derisively.