Wolf in Night

by Tara K. Harper

  “As did Murton, maSera, Woraconau, Gretzell, and half the other chovas.”

  Now he really had her attention. “Chovas duty is perfect cover for a raider.”

  “Aye, but—” He broke off. “Heads up, Nori-girl,” he said, softly. He gestured with his chin down the aisle.

  She followed his gaze. B’Kosan and his merchant were heading their way. Rezuku lifted a hand to catch their attention.

  “My apologies to you both,” the blond man said easily as he came up, though his eyes were sharp as they took in the brother and sister. Nori belatedly slipped her knife back in her belt. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” The merchant nodded at Payne, then turned to Nori. “MaDione, I offer my sincere apologies to you in particular. It was in my presence that Mato insulted you so grievously both earlier and at fireside.”

  The man ran his hand through his thin blond hair in a gesture that seemed almost practiced, and Payne’s violet eyes narrowed. He didn’t think the merchant sounded displeased at all. In fact, he could swear there was a smugness under Rezuku’s voice that made Payne’s attention stand on edge.

  The merchant, with his gaze on Nori, didn’t notice. “Please,” the man added. “Tell me what I can do to make amends.”

  “My thanks for the apology, Merchant Rezuku, but I take no offense.” She started to turn away.

  “Black Wolf, maDione, let me do something. I have many contacts up and down the county. Perhaps I can help you arrange some interesting stops on this trip or on your Journey when you accept it—” He broke off as Nori’s face went carefully expressionless. He added smoothly, “Or perhaps something as simple as sharing a cup of Germeni wine with me to assure me you do not think so poorly of me.” He smiled charmingly. “I admit freely that I have an ulterior motive, but I swear I will mention to you only this once that I would like to do business with your uncle, the Lloroi, and that I hope I can drop your name in the conversation when I meet him.”

  She looked down the darkened wagon lane for a moment. Lanterns bobbled with the strides of cozar who headed for bed, while other parties gossiped animatedly as they headed out for the inns. A pair of women had stopped nearby to murmur a last bit of gossip. It was normal; the entire night felt normal, but still she felt uneasy. She wanted more steel at her side than the belt knife and boot knife she carried, and this merchant made her wary. Yet Payne said nothing, and they did want inside the man’s wagon. Slowly, she nodded.

  Rezuku gave her a smile. “Tomorrow?”

  This time, she couldn’t help glancing at Payne.

  “The next day then,” the blond man said smoothly. “After fireside. My best Germeni wine. I’ve brought several cases for trade, and I would consider it an honor to sample a bottle with you.”

  She nodded again.

  The satisifed merchant strode away down the line of wagons, and B’Kosan gave her a grin over his shoulder as he trailed dutifully along.

  Nori muttered, “Probably thinks that if he steals some wine, I’ll have a drink with him, too.” She scowled after the chovas. “If I looked like Uncle Wakje, men like that wouldn’t bother me twice.”

  Payne chuckled. “If you looked like Wakje, you’d have a chin like a butcher, hands like a meat grinder, and eyebrows made of bollusk hair, not to mention forearms like my thighs.” He glanced around to see that they were alone for the moment, then nodded after the pair. “I think I’ll tag along in the shadows and see who else he talks to.”

  “Good.” She opened her trail pack on the gate to do a check of her gear. “B’Kosan was far too interested in Fentris’s and Hunter’s reactions when that woman’s inheritance came up.”

  Payne turned to look at her. “That was about land on the southern trade route.”

  She nodded. “I’ve got notes on activity all along that route, all the way down to Sidisport and back up the Randonnen border.”

  He said slowly, “That would explain the Tamrani presence and why Brithanas wants the Daughter of Dione.” He caught her expression and said quickly, “He probably never saw you as anything else Nori-girl. He is Tamrani, and you’re—”

  “The Wolfwalker’s Daughter,” she finished flatly.

  “Aye. Noriana is just an animal healer and a backtrail scout. Those aren’t the skills a Tamrani usually needs.” He added, “He must be trying to get a jump on some kind of change in the trade lanes. It would have to be big, though. Tamrani don’t move unless there’s heavy gold involved.” He rubbed his jaw and looked back toward fireside.

  She snapped her pack closed, and Rishte growled again in her head. She growled her agreement back. But Payne put his hand over hers to stop her from slipping her pack on. “Don’t go using that till after I get back, and till after you’ve had a talk with Brithanas. Get him to back off, but see what he knows, if you can. I’m going to follow B’Kosan.”

  She muttered a curse as she plopped her pack back on the gate. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. Yes, now,” she added before he could say it himself. She remembered B’Kosan’s expression from that afternoon when the chovas suggested he challenge Mato for her. She caught his arm. “Payne, if you talk to B’Kosan, don’t make any accusations. He’s too much like Uncle Ki. He might challenge you, and it wouldn’t be for fun.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “I hear you.”

  The call of the wolf was a growling thing, deep inside her mind. It was yanking now like a leash. She tried to swallow her snarl, but she knew her voice was harsh. “Be careful, Payne.”

  His voice was dry. “Like Papa, Nori-girl.”

  “Aye, like Papa.” Then he was gone, slipping after Rezuku. Nori looked down the now deserted lane, then reached back into the wagon, plucked an extra knife from the low rack, and strapped it onto her belt. She hesitated, then snapped a balanced blade out of the rack and tucked it into her boot sheath. Then she strode away to find Hunter.

  XXIV

  [Grasp hefts his sword.] “Which one am I supposed

  to kill, anyway?”

  “The one in blue.” [Chenshi spits to the side and

  adjusts his sword belt.]

  [Grasp peers across the stage.] “I don’t see him.”

  “That’s because he is beside you.” [And Chenshi

  draws his blade.]

  —from Playing with Swords, modern staging

  The tall Tamrani greeted her with a smile. She looked uncomfortable, and he hid his satisfaction. This should be almost easy. “Walk with me for a few minutes.”

  She cocked her head at him and gestured toward an empty bench on the outskirts of the now sparse fireside. “We can talk here.”

  He glanced at the small groups of colorful men and women. Half wore plain, dark colors for travel and work, but the other half were like vari birds at mating. Red shirts with black trim, yellow-green cloaks edged with violet braid, and royal blue pants with lime-green embroidery? They made a Tamrani ball look dull. He’d almost laughed in spite of himself when Shae had commented dryly earlier that his eyes almost hurt to see them. He said simply, “I’d prefer the verge to the camp.”

  “Why?” she asked warily.

  “I enjoy a stroll in the evening. After tonight, I’d think you’d want one, too.” She looked over her shoulder, and he added casually, “They’ve gone across to Vallier’s train.”

  She shot him a sharp look. “Who?”

  “Your uncles. Said something about talking to the other scouts. Your brother went off that way. Shall we?” He motioned for her to walk beside him.

  She drew back. “I don’t think so.” It was too tempting to leave the firelight, the flickering lanterns, the cozar noise. Safety in numbers, Payne had said. There were at least four outriders nearby, none of them Sidisport chovas. “Here is good enough.”

  “But not as pleasant as a moonlit verge.”

  Rishte growled in her mind, and she scowled irritably. “I’m tired and sore, Hunter.” And ready to snap at anyone who came near, she thought. “I just want to sleep. We can talk here i
f we need to.”

  He raised one black eyebrow at her. “With a trail pack ready on your wagon gate? I’d say you were up for a midnight run.”

  “I said no. Not tonight. Not with you.” She broke off, embarrassed. She couldn’t believe she’d admitted that. She snarled back at the wolf in her mind.

  The Tamrani’s gaze sharpened, and his green eyes gleamed. “Are you nervous around me, Wolfwalker?”

  “Of course not.”

  Hunter’s voice was dry. “I’m flattered.”

  Her voice was sharp. “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  He mock-sighed. “You were so nice on the ride today.”

  “You weren’t so irritating then.”

  He actually laughed.

  She nodded at a couple who greeted her, lowered her voice, and said, “Condari, I don’t believe for a moment that all you want to do is talk.” She took a breath and steeled herself. “You should know that I don’t walk out with strange men. I’m also not in the habit of kum-jan, especially between bare acquaintances—”

  He grinned at her unintentional pun. She might be a scout, but Randonnens were often stuffy about intimacy between friends.

  She forged on. “And I’m tired and sore from the last two days.”

  “I remind you that I’m not half-bad as a masseur. Surely you noticed that before, when I rubbed your legs after your run. You weren’t so tense with me then.”

  “Look, Condari—”

  “Hunter or Con,” he corrected. “And I don’t even want my shirt back.”

  Nori blushed. She’d not yet returned either jerkin or shirt, and she was strangely reluctant to do so. It was almost as if she wanted the man near without actually being by him herself. “I’ll return it—and your jerkin—in the morning after I’ve had a chance to wash them.”

  “I’d rather you kept them. And,” he forestalled her. “Don’t bother to ask why.” That small smile played around his lips. “I think you know.”

  She refused to take a step back. “I know enough to ask again, what do you want, Condari?”

  He tried to take her hand as he would if they were in Sidisport. “Noriana Ember maDione, have I offended you?”

  She slipped free. “No, but—”

  “Am I so badly trained that you were irritated or disgusted to ride with me?”

  “You’re competent enough on the trail.”

  “Don’t slay me with admiration.”

  In spite of herself, she found her lips twitching.

  “A walk, Noriana. I’m among strangers, here. I just want some conversation.”

  “You have Fentris.”

  He snorted. Although, he might have to start confiding in the other man if their interests were as parallel as he was beginning to believe. That woman at fireside, the one whose inheritance was sold? He’d heard of a dozen merchants who had lost properties in the past year the same way or something like it. But he said, “I want a walk, not a fight.”

  Nori hid a smile. She suspected that Fentris was deliberately provoking Hunter every chance he got. “You could go back to your own caravan.”

  “I’d have to be dead from a lack of curiosity if I didn’t want to find out why you were so anxious to come back to this train. Half an hour, Wolfwalker. Down the road and back. You’ll be in sight of the circle most of the way. You can even bring your wolf.”

  She regarded him so warily that he wondered if he’d sprouted fangs. Then she gestured abruptly. “We’ll walk.”

  He didn’t question her change of mind. Instead, he let her lead him away from fireside, out the gate, and along the path that forked across the wide verge. Payne caught a glimpse of them as they passed the far quads, and Nori avoided her brother’s gaze as he scowled after the pair.

  There were other cozar stretching their legs on that length of road, and Nori seemed to withdraw into herself with every sly expression. Hunter, noting the rising flush on her cheeks, raised his eyebrows and gestured toward a darker side path. She gave him a long look, checked to see if anyone had followed them, then nodded in relief. They slipped away to the wider part of the verge where the others didn’t venture.

  Willow Road was the main way up the valley, with each lane separated and lined by a wide avenue of some of the oldest rootroad trees. In this area, the barrier bushes were almost six hundred meters apart, far enough that the verge was a small park dotted with watering troughs for dnu and stone benches set back in tiny arbors. The paths wound their way up the slight hill like loose white braids in an ancient knot. Still cooling from the day’s warm sun, the air was heady with late scents from the clumps of pink and blue flowers, while pairs of pelan fluttered heavily down to settle for the night.

  It was an old park, cleared in the second century. There was a sense of age trapped in the stone benches, like caskets holding the bones of the past. It wasn’t just Hunter’s imagination. Each bench was carved with the name of a martyr, each name a testament to a man or woman who had died bringing the last of the Ancients’ technology out of the plague-ridden domes. Like the cozar pillars that marked events, the benches in the park kept the memories of the martyrs alive. He noted that the wolfwalker seemed unusually pensive as she touched a few of the benches.

  Nori named each bench to herself as she passed it. The death-seep was days behind her now, but the sense of it was still with her. Even though Rishte had been nervous twice that day, she wondered if she had misinterpreted his impressions. Here, in this park, it seemed fitting that the wolves remember the plague through their memories, just as humanity did in its carvings.

  Her tension faded the farther they were from the circle and the knowing eyes of the cozar. By the time they had walked silently through half the park, she knew no one was near. With the faint hunting cry of a badgerbear on the ridge, no cozar would venture this far from the fires.

  They paused while Hunter splashed water on his face at one of the stone fountain basins. Nori looked east, into the thick forest. Rishte? she called carefully.

  Wolfwalker, you come! Even with the grey little more than a blurred din in the back of her head, she didn’t mistake that message.

  Soon. Come to me. Come closer.

  Wolfwalker, wolfwalker, the Grey One sang.

  She smiled wryly. Rishte didn’t hear her, not clearly. It was the contact, not the words, that he’d caught. She tried to stretch toward the grey as Hunter drank from the fountain. It was hard. The Tamrani was too close, too full of strength and presence. In the moonlight, she couldn’t help noticing that his hands were rough-textured enough that the water caught brokenly across his tanned knuckles. It was as if reaching for Rishte made her more aware of everyone around her. Every movement seemed exaggerated, sharper, requiring a response.

  She closed her eyes. Tried to sink into the grey. She didn’t realize her hand stretched toward the forest. Grey din, blurred fog, swirls of images so faint they made no sense . . . Rishte . . . standing? Rishte moving, and the odors of the forest too thick to distinguish. But there was something in his voice that made her fingers curl.

  “Nori?”

  She opened her eyes abruptly. Hunter was frowning. Water dripped from his chin, and he dragged a sleeve across his face as he studied her.

  “Unease.” She didn’t realize she had spoken out loud until she heard her own voice. She flushed at Hunter’s silent question. A wariness or unease—that was what underlay Rishte’s voice. It wasn’t just eagerness for Nori to join him, it was the youthful fear of being kays away from the pack. For he was alone now, separated from the pack by distance and days, and separated from Nori by the other humans. The bond would grow stronger the more they had only each other to be with, but she couldn’t help reaching out to the loneliness. She should not have heard it so soon in his voice, but the worlag run and her own tension had put a tightness into their thoughts that would have been months in building.

  “You’re dreamy,” Hunter observed quietly. “And prickly at the same time. It’s intriguing.”

/>   She was abruptly back to earth. “It is not my intention to intrigue you.”

  “And disconcertingly sharp as a knife.”

  She cast him a sidewise look. “I’ll not answer that one, or I’d be forced to say where the blade would best be used.”

  He laughed.

  She glanced around, made sure they were alone in the park, then took a deep breath. “I must ask something of you.”

  “Then ask,” he answered easily. She’d used the cozar words stiffly, and he suspected that this favor was why she’d agreed to go with him.

  She didn’t look at him. Instead, she kept her gaze straight ahead on the ragged hilltop tree line. “Don’t mention Rishte to anyone. Don’t speak about my bonding. Uncle Wakje won’t talk about it, nor will Ki, and Payne knows better. But you . . .” Her voice trailed off in a helpless shrug.

  He walked on for a moment in silence. She hadn’t used the cozar request phrase. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that what she said had been an order, not a request. She was hiding the bond out of what? Insecurity? It was almost as intriguing as her prickliness. “Should I ask why this is so important?”

  “Will you do it?”

  He stopped, forcing her to face him. “Yes,” he said softly. “Since you ask it.” She nodded and made to walk on, but he caught her arm. She tensed, and he released her instantly. “It frightens you,” he said, surprised. “I don’t scare you, nor this night, nor the sound of that badgerbear out on the hill. But the thought that I might know you are bonding—that has you tense as a wire.”

  In the night, her violet eyes seemed to gleam. “You guessed before, back at the wayside.”

  “I suspected,” he agreed. “I was sure after the trail to Willow Road.” He shook his head. There was a sense of wonder in his voice. Two nights ago, when she’d led them on that cross-trail, he hadn’t known what to expect. The Wolfwalker’s Daughter, five moons at night . . . They had been on a dark stretch, with the moons behind the clouds, and the Grey Ones gone ahead, when he got his first intimation of what it would be like to ride with a wolfwalker, not just with a standard scout.