Wolf's Eyes

by Jane Lindskold

  Her brother Jet was similarly accoutred, though his chosen colors were black and gold. Firekeeper was amused to dis-cover that while most of the soldiers were half in love with Sapphire, they thought her brother a fop and pretender.

  Groups of foot soldiers were interspersed about the column, some guarding the creaking baggage wagons, some trudging in the rear. Progress was so slow that these men and women had time to argue, sing, gamble, and pursue rivalries between units.

  This provided Firekeeper's first exposure to a mass of the common folk and she found them fascinating. Despite her usual dislike of crowds, shefrequentlywent among the soldiers. Some resented her for behaving neither as a noble or a commoner, orfromfear of Blind Seer, but Purcel Trueheart welcomed her—perhaps at his mother Zorana's request— and so the soldiers tolerated her at first. Later, she made friends among them and these welcomed her for herself.

  At Derian's insistence, each day Firekeeper rode some hours on Patience, the grey gelding, amusing herself by practicing archeryfromthe saddle. Her greatest delight, how-ever, was when riding lessons were finished and she could dismount. Pacing the caravan on foot, she was free to investigate interesting parcels of woodland, spear fish from brooks, and in general to behave in a fashion that would drive insane any caretaker less accustomed to her ways than Derian.

  At first Earl Kestrel had tried to restrict Firekeeper's movements, but he was too busy with his own responsibilities to enforce his commands. Later, King Tedric privately informed his vassal that Lady Blysse had his express per-mission to go where she wished. The earl, believing this yet another indication that his ward was the chosen heir, happily acceded.

  Blind Seer caused numerous problems simply because all the horses and dogs were uniformly terrified of him. The dogs simply rolled over and groveled, rarely essaying an at-tack even when they outnumbered and outmassed the wolf. The horses, however, refused to compromise with their terror unless Firekeeper wasted a considerable amount oftimetalking to them—a task she found boring and repetitious since the stupider horses needed to befrequentlyreminded that the wolf wouldn't eat them. Even Patience, Roanne, and Race's Dusty were skittish at first, reacting to their fellows’ fear.

  Firekeeper resolved thisfrustratingsituation by remaining away from both the cavalry and king's mounted companions as much as possible. If she wished human companionship, there was plenty among the soldiers. The placid oxen who drew the supply wagons were less imaginative than the horses, more ready to accept the wolf as an exceptionally large—and rather less annoying than most—dog.

  Firekeeper's daily attire was a modified version of the knee-length leather breeches and vest that she had favored since her introduction to human-style clothing. She still ran barefoot, never having lost the leather toughness of her foot soles. Nor did she need gloves, for her long-fingered hands were as callused as any farmer's. To Firekeeper's delight, her dark brown hair finally had grown long enough to be tied back in a respectable queue. A few clips, gifts from Elise, kept the straggle ends from her eyes.

  Since armed conflict was possible, Earl Kestrel insisted that his ward be outfitted with some sort of armor. Firekeeper had rebelled against the jangling weight of mail. However, after a vivid demonstration by Ox of how armor could pre-vent a sword from penetrating into the vitals, she had agreed—when necessary—to wear leather armor similar to that worn by Sapphire Shield, though less gaudily colored.

  Except for riding lessons and weapons practice, during these days of travel Firekeeper was free to ran wild, bare of foot and head, silent as the wind. Yet, despite her enthusiasm at being released once again into the woodlands, Firekeeper did not forget the task the king had enjoined her to perform. In daylight there was little she could do, but at night she left her bedroll and glided among the pitched tents, growling the curs to silence and taking shameless delight in eavesdropping on her fellows.

  In this fashion the wolf-woman learned many strange things. Sapphire Shield, who by day rode straight and tall on the blue-dyed horse with its silver-white mane and tail, regularly cried herself to sleep each night. Lady Melina Shield frequently stole away into die woods where, believing herself unwatched, she danced in the moonlight and dipped glittering gemstones into pools of strongly scented liquor.

  Jet Shield, in the guise of courtship, frequently pressed himself on Elise. When Elise refused him more than hot kisses and pawing at her breasts, Jet found relief among the women who trailed the caravan.

  When night brought privacy, Lady Zorana vigorously tutored her daughter Nydia in deportment, schooling the thirteen-year-old so fiercely that Nydia, to this point ignored in favor of her older brother, was driven into sullehness one step shy of rebellion. At these moments, Zorana whispered to her, promising the little girl great things until she sweetened and was willing to memorize signals and responses that would puzzle Firekeeper more but that most human rituals still puzzled her.

  Elsewhere, Firekeeper learned that King Tedric's old bones did not permit him to sleep easily unless he was dosed by his personal physician. Then nothing would wake him for some hours. In contrast, Dirkin Eastbranch never slept—at least not that Firekeeper had seen. He was also the only one among the king's retainers who seemed to notice her comings and goings, greeting her with a silent smile and a slight raise of one eyebrow.

  Nighttime was not Firekeeper's only time for discovery. She developed greater respect for Earl Kestrel when she realized that the soldiers he commanded honored him for his courage and wisdom, not merely for his title. From Doc she learned something of the arts of treating cuts and braises, of wrapping sprains, of salves and ointments. From Race and Ox she continued to learn human arts of survival and war. From Derian she learned humor and to play at dice.

  In all her memory, these days of travel became some of Firekeeper's happiest, filled with new things and with fitting of them into a larger pattern of human society. No longer did she think dance and music were the only things worth-while about the human way. Yet deep-rooted in her heart was the desire to be other, to ran on four fast feet, to raise night-seeing eyes to the moon, and sing her praises from a wolf's heart.

  ARRIVING IN HOPE, Prince Newell Shield was delighted to learn that King Tedric's party was not expected for some days yet. Advance riders were contracting with the locals for facilities and supplies. Some were specially delegated to treat with the town leaders.

  Although technically part of Hawk Haven, Hope had changed hands so frequently—even since the Civil War ended some hundred andfiveyears before—that its residents viewed the entire issue of citizenship with a cynical eye. If they felt a strong kinship with any group they felt it for the citizens of Good Crossing, Hope's sister city across the Barren River. There had been times when Good Crossing, too, had been part of Hawk Haven, times when Hope had been part of Bright Bay.

  An even greyer area of loyalty was Bridgeton, a massive stone bridge on which shops and even houses had been built. Before the end of the Civil War, there had been a bridge here—the “good crossing” for which the original town had been named. In the century since the end of the war, the original bridge had been widened repeatedly until the small midriver islands on which the pilings were set had all but vanished.

  Bridgeton was dominated by the Toll House in the center. Although no attempt was made to stop river traffic, enough commerce passed over Bridgeton's mighty span to keep it mended strong and its coffers full. Neither monarchy had attempted to restrict Bridgeton's business, for the bridge was ideal neutral ground for negotiations. At less peaceful times, die army that commanded the span also commanded the perfect place from which to police the river.

  Prince Newell rather liked the locals’ cynicism. Hope and Good Crossing both were home to dubious segments of the population, men and women who found a close, easily crossed border extremely convenient. It was home to deserters, thieves, smugglers, practitioners of doubtful customs, and just plain free spirits. The more law-abiding citizenry—which were the majority—put up w
ith the scoundrels because of the money they brought in, and because people who had nowhere else to go would accept taxation (a rarity elsewhere in Hawk Haven) and poor treatment.

  The law-abiding elements also delighted in the economic benefits derived from the permanent army garrison on the eastern fringes of the town. The army officers, aware that alienation of the townspeople was a good way tofindthemselvesfightingalone if an invasion attempt was made, turned a blind eye to anything that did not clearly threaten Hawk Haven's border. In return, the underworld regularly supplied information about troop movements in Good Crossing and elsewhere in Bright Bay. It was an arrangement that worked for all.

  Not wishing his presence to be known quite yet, Prince Newell had Rook arrange for rooms in the Silent Wench, a tavem with many doors and a reputation for discretion. Al-though this reputation was well earned, Newell took no risks. Both Rook and Keen, his assistant, were ordered to disguise themselves and give false names. Newell went the further step of never venturing out of the tavem before sunset.

  In many towns in both Hawk Haven and Bright Bay such behavior would be either foolhardy or a guarantor of boredom. Hope was not a typical town and with diplomatic contingentsfromtherivalnations converging upon it, even those rales it usually upheld were broken.

  Following a long day's sleep, sorely needed after journeys on water and land, Newell Shield sauntered down to the conveniently dim-lit tavem. He doubted that his own mother could recognize him in this light, but nonetheless he kept a greasy leather hat securely on his head, the wide brim shad-owing his eyes. Slouching in a comer booth, calling for food and drink in harsh accents, he trusted that no one but Rook and Keen would know him for the widower prince of Hawk Haven.

  While he ate, he listened to the gossip, but the Silent Wench was renowned for her discretion and those who stayed there were not the type to give much away. Paying in guild tokens which Rook had acquired back in the port and at Eagle's Nest, Prince Newell ventured into the night. A soft cough from the shadows told him that Keen trailed him, but Newell looked neither right nor left.

  Keen was a round-faced, slightly soft-looking man in his late twenties. By preference, he wore his straight brown hair loose to his shoulders and cut blunt across his brow rather than pulled back in a fashionable queue. Keen's close-cut beard had the same glossy sheen as an animal's coat and his large, brown eyes seemed guileless and gentle. That was all deception. Violence brewed beneath that innocent gaze, as more than one woman lured into Keen's bed had discovered. Newell found him very useful.

  Those who walked alone through the streets of Hope at night were either drunks or fools or very confident of their own strength. Newell clearly did not belong to either of the first two categories and so no one bothered him.

  He strolled along, noting that the Night Roost Inn displayed the scarlet eagle of the Hawk Haven royal family. Here, then, stayed the advance guard for the king. The laughter he heard through the taproom's open window was doubtless that of their guests, locals wined and dined to make them glad to grant favors on their monarch's behalf.

  It took Newell longer to find Stonehold's presence, for although Stonehold was no more at war with Hawk Haven than was Bright Bay, When there had been war, Stonehold had regularly supported Hawk Haven's rival. Discretion regarding their representative's presence in Hope was wise, for only the most open-minded could believe that it would be to Hawk Haven's benefit. But Newell found the Stoneholders by snooping among stables and kitchen yards, swapping tall tales with burly men with soldiers’ bearing yet conspicuously out of uniform. Many were deserters or mercenaries, but at last he found those whose telltale accents gave their origin away.

  Having found Stonehold, it didn't take more than another hour to find those who were spying for Bright Bay. These hid their accents, refrained from the nautical jargon with which even the most inland-dwelling salted their language, and dressed as neutrally as he did himself. They were ready with their money, buying drinks and food, encouraging conjecture and speculation in the hope of learning something to their advantage.

  Though Newell drank wine and ale as offered, tonight he said nothing beyond commenting on the weather or the quality of the local vintages. Tonight he was taking the pulse of the situation and finding it racing. Humming to himself, just slightly drank, he ambled back to his room at the Silent Wench.

  THE FIRST NEWS that King Tedric's party received when they arrived outside Hope before noon on the fifth day of travel was that Bright Bay's contingent was not expected in Good Crossing until late the next evening. This advantage of a day and a half did not mean that there wasn't plenty to do.

  King Tedric, along with his closest advisors and personal staff, would stay within the permanent fort to the east of Hope: the Fortress of the Watchful Eye. Although the great stone-walled structure could contain more, the king told his commanders to set up in the surrounding open zone sur-rounding the fortress. No one complained, for the late-summer weather, though sometimes muggy for marching, had been so clement that camping was a pleasure.

  Earl Kestrel ordered that his personal encampment be set up at the fringes of thefield,on the side nearest the cultivated areas. Part of his reason was a desire to keep Blind Seer away from the bulk of the army, part because the cavalry companies were stationed on the other fringe, near to the river where the horses could be watered with ease. The earl's light mount, Coal, had joined Roanne, Patience, and Dusty in grudgingly accepting the wolf and thus Norvin could skirt the larger army encampment and ride between his areas of responsibility with relative ease.

  Derian was assisting Valet and Ox with setting up tents when Race Forester arrived. More than willing to show off his skills to those who could appreciate them, Race had accepted a temporary scout's commission, reporting directly to Earl Kestrel. He looked good in the brown trousers and green shirt of the scouts, the Kestrel arms—a shield divided top to bottom into narrow blue and red bands, blazoned with a gold hunting hom—over his heart.

  Race's ego had not been hurt at all during his association with the scouts and he was swaggering a bit when he joined the others, evidently bristling with gossip.

  “Lend a hand,” Ox said with the good humor that rarely left him, “and tell us what you've learned.”

  Race grinned and grabbed a tent pole. “Half of Hope's folk already believe they know why we're here. The other half claims not to care. My gossips say differently, that Hope is glad to have us here. Whatever happens with the negotiations, they expect to come out the victors. The wine and ale merchants have been importing from anywhere they can get it, anticipating that once the troops are in place commerce will be slowed.”

  “As it will be,” Ox said. His back muscles bulged as he hauled the earl's pavilion onto its frame. “Before Earl Kestrel dismissed me this afternoon—saying with his usual kindness that he'd be in meetings until sunset and there was no need for me to just stand about—I heard enough about security precautions to know that no one is getting near any place King Tedric will be without careful searching.”

  “Well,” Race commented, “tonight will be the last night without rales. The army commanders have permission to re-lease up to two-thirds of their troops for a night on the town. Those who volunteer to stay back will get bonus pay.”

  “We're not eligible for that,” Ox said, pointing at Valet and Derian with his bearded chin, his hands being full, “as we're personal retainers. Are you for a night out or bonus pay?”

  Race shrugged. “I haven't decided. I thought I'd learn if Earl Kestrel has any preferences.”

  Pausing in his own work, Derian glanced skyward, located Elation soaring on the warm winds, and knew that Firekeeper was safe. He'd gradually come to rely on the peregrine for such signals and suspected that they were offered deliberately, that the bird knew how difficult it was for him to track the wolf-woman and was assisting him.

  Despite how he had defended Blind Seer's intelligence to his mother, die thought made him uneasy, as if he were standing ou
tside of a door into a new world. If he accepted that a falcon was voluntarily helping him do his job, he must accept that many things he had thought simply old tales just might be tme. If you accepted beasts that were as intelligent as humans, then were the horrors and wonders told of in some of the other stories far away?

  Idly, Derian waved one hand in greeting and was certain he saw Elation dip wing in acknowledgment. To distract himself he said:

  “I suppose the negotiations themselves will be held on Bridgeton?”

  Race nodded. “That'sright.Advance parties agreed to that easily enough. They'll be using the Toll House and traffic under Bridgeton itself is being halted entirely during the meetings.”

  “I bet the guilds love that!” Derian whistled. “And what is being done about the shops and residences on Bridgeton itself?”

  “On our side,” Race said, raising his eyebrows eloquently on the word “our,” “advance negotiations have succeeded in renting space on rooftops and in front of shops. I imderstand they tried to get everyone to agree to shut down, but the guilds were having none of it. I expect that Bright Bay did no better.”

  Ox grumbled, ‘Two towns—three if you count Bridgeton—united in nothing but their desire to oppose the forces that surround them.”

  Valet said softly from where he was stirring thefire,looking for embers to heat his iron:

  “And I, for one, don't believe for a moment that they're not interested in these negotiations. If ever Bright Bay and Hawk Haven make peace, the first casualty will be this arrogant trio. We must not forget that.”