Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart

by Jane Lindskold

  To her own surprise, Elise grew fond of Cream Delight in a way she had never been of any of the other ponies and palfreys she had been given. Of course, grooms took care of routine grooming and feeding, but even when they had safely arrived at the castle at Silver Whale Cove Elise had found time to steal out to the stables with a carrot or apple. A few stolen moments stroking Cream's neck and murmuring her troubles into the mare's perked ears revitalized the young woman as did nothing else.

  Elise found herself riding more often as well. During the trips to and from Hope a few moonspans before, Elise had tended to travel in the carriages or walk, only occasionally venturing out on horseback. On the journey to Silver Whale Cove, however, she had gradually found herself riding for longer and longer stretches, until by the time they arrived she could stay in the saddle for most of a day without becoming more than reasonably stiff.

  On the return journey, Elise planned to do the same. She regained her seat easily and felt quite good about herself, so that she welcomed Derian Carter when he came trotting up to visit with her.

  His mount, Roanne, was a showy chestnut mare whose white stockings showed off her polished copper coat as if ordered expressly for the purpose. With her developing eye for good horseflesh, Elise could tell that Roanne was a superior mount. For a moment she wondered how Derian could have afforded such a horse. Then she recalled that his family owned an extensive chain of livery stables, and that small mystery was solved.

  Derian reined Roanne in alongside Cream. The two mares blew at each other, Cream submitting just slightly. Doubtless the horses had worked out matters of precedence while stabled at the castle.

  "Hello!" Derian said cheerfully. "How do you like the mare?"

  "She's lovely," Elise answered promptly, "and as comfortable as a chair in my mother's solar."

  "I must tell my father," Derian said with a grin. "He's the one who found the mare for the baron, though I think my sister, Damita, had something to do with the final choice. Dami's developing an eye for the proper turnout to give the lady of fashion."

  Elise laughed. She vaguely recalled that Derian had a sister a few years younger than himself and perhaps a brother as well. For a moment she felt a familiar flicker of loneliness. Aurella Wellward had inherited the same weakness as had her aunt, Queen Elexa, but whereas the queen—perhaps out of a sense of duty to her line—had borne three living children, Aurella had borne no other child after Elise.

  In return, Aurella was in far better condition than her aunt, showing none of the signs of premature aging that plagued the queen. Elise, who loved her mother, supposed it was a fair trade, but she wished that her parents had at least adopted another child.

  Apparently, the baron had considered such a course but had been dissuaded by his sister, Zorana, who had loudly proclaimed that the title their father had won should not pass to a stranger's child when she herself had four living.

  Three now, Elise thought sadly, for her cousin Purcel, Zorana's eldest at fifteen, had died on the field during King Allister's War.

  Derian must have noted Elise's suddenly somber mood, for he said, "If you'd prefer, Lady Elise, I can leave you to your thoughts."

  "Please don't leave," she said, putting a hand out to touch his arm. "I was just remembering my cousin Purcel."

  "A real loss," Derian said sincerely. "Purcel was a good horseman, as well as a good fellow. I wonder what happened to his bay hunter? It's too big a horse for little Kenre and I don't imagine that either Nydia or Deste would fancy it."

  "I don't know," Elise admitted. "Aunt Zorana may have kept it for herself. She's far more likely to go hunting than is Uncle Aksel."

  "He's more the scholarly type," Derian agreed. "Well, if you find they're looking to sell the bay, suggest my parents' stable. They'll give your aunt a fair price."

  They talked for a while of such general matters and eventually, to Elise's delight, Sir Jared drifted over to join them. His mount was a solid, unpretentious chestnut gelding, its coat showing a touch of red but lacking Roanne's glowing hues. The gelding was clearly an older horse, slightly past its prime, and Elise on her golden steed was uncomfortably reminded of the difference in their stations.

  After bowing greeting to Elise, Sir Jared said, "I thought I'd let you two know that a halt for a light meal will be called as soon as we get around that bend. Race reports that there's a harvested field ahead whose owner is honored to let us stop. Afterwards, the king hopes to put in a few more miles before we're forced by lack of light to pitch camp."

  "Thanks, Doc," Derian said. "It's a pity there are no good inns along this road. Those that are here are of the six-to-abed and meal-in-a-pub type. The pavilions the noble folk packed along will offer far more comfortable accommodations."

  "Someday there will be better inns," Sir Jared predicted, "if the peace holds. This road will become a major trade corridor and nobles traveling between the kingdoms will be happy to pay for a pleasant place to sleep and a good hot meal."

  Elise nodded. "I agree. The distance between Eagle's Nest and Silver Whale Cove by water is much greater. I suspect that the freelance boaters crowding the banks now will be replaced by some sort of regular ferry service. A bridge will always be impossible with the river so wide."

  "True enough," Jared agreed.

  He looked as if he was about to depart, so Elise asked quickly, "Tell me, Doc, whatever became of Sapphire's request?"

  "Request?" Derian asked.

  "She wanted Sir Jared made some sort of royal physician—like Lord Rory."

  Sir Jared grinned at the memory.

  "Well, Lady Elise, the matter has been put by for now. King Tedric said that he'd be happy to grant the princess's request, but he wants to speak with his own physician beforehand—make certain there're no hurt feelings."

  "Good idea," Elise commented.

  "Then," Jared continued, "King Tedric says he may still wait, consult a few people. Once our ranking families hear how many special titles and posts there are among Bright Bay's courtiers there will be agitating for parity in Hawk Haven—no matter how unzoranic that would be."

  Elise grimaced. "Not everyone would be after new titles but some would be just delighted. My Aunt Zorana, for example, or Titchy Trueheart. Do you know her?"

  Sir Jared nodded, "Met Lady Titchy once when she came to a large party at Cousin Norvin's city manse. Pretentious."

  "I met Titchy," Elise giggled, "one spring when she invited herself to our family house to do watercolors of the gardens—my great-grandmother Farmer put in some water lilies that have become quite famous. Titchy complained night and day about the servants, and hadn't considered that there might be mosquitoes."

  Derian asked, "Isn't the Archer Grant along the Barren?"

  "It is," Elise replied, pointing vaguely northwest. "East of Hope and Good Crossing, but west of Broadview. Back when King Chalmer granted my grandfather his title and lands, the border was rather hotly contested—just as it was in the days when Queen Zorana laid in the Crown's claims to much of the river land. Despite the good access to water, no one particularly wanted land so susceptible to raids, so no one argued when King Chalmer gave my grandfather a nice piece."

  "Who holds the land at the confluence of the Flin and Barren?" Derian asked. "Wellward?"

  "Not exactly," Elise said. "It's surrounded by much Wellward land, but Broadview is a crown city. I think that Grand Duke Gadman is technically its governor, though a city council does most of the day-to-day managing. Grand Duke Gad man simply provides the final word on any major changes and collects some income.

  "Even so, the system works well for everyone. Otherwise my grandfather Peregrine might have been expected to provide all the troops for Broadview's defense—and no one would like that, not the troops, not the Peregrine treasury, and not the king, since that would mean he'd need to permit the Wellwards to maintain a fairly large private army."

  Sir Jared commented. "My family's lands are further north—part of the Norwood Grant
. Most of the Norwood Grant borders New Kelvin along the White Water River. I suppose because Hawk Haven has never been at war with New Kelvin, the Norwoods have never worried about keeping a standing army. There's a local militia, but that's useful in several ways. It gives work for extra children of local families and provides the Kestrels with a pool of trained soldiers to draw on when the Crown calls for troops."

  "Remember that the White Water's rougher than the Barren," Elise stated, tracing a map in the air with her fingertip, "though the Barren's no millpond. Along most of the White Water's length it's broken up by rocks and falls. That makes it a more effective barrier between the kingdoms."

  "You do know your geography," Jared said admiringly.

  "I like learning about strange lands and peoples," Elise admitted cheerfully. "That's one of the reasons I was so glad to make the trip into Bright Bay."

  "And yet," Jared said, "Bright Bay is practically Hawk Haven when you compare their peoples and customs to ours. My family's lands are south of the White Water, in the foothills of the Iron Mountains. Even though we're not on the border, I've met New Kelvinese traders when they come to sample the year's pressings and order wine."

  "I remember now!" Elise exclaimed. "Your family owns a winery."

  "A new one, as such interests are judged," Jared answered, laughing at her enthusiasm, "but we sold our harvest to larger growers before our vines produced enough to turn to our own use. I've been to more than a few wine-fests."

  They fell to talking of wines and economics, of the strange habits of the New Kelvinese, drifted into analyzing the customs of the plutocracy of Waterland, and touched on the current political question before drifting to speculation about what countries might lie beyond those they knew.

  Neither particularly noticed when the party stopped for lunch, but munched their bread and cheese and drank their wine as they continued talking. Neither noticed when Derian drifted off to visit with Ox and Race.

  Nor did either notice the sour looks that Baron Archer turned in their direction.

  Leaving Revelation Point Castle, Firekeeper and Blind Seer ran and walked, ran and walked until dawn was pinking the horizon. Several times they stopped to rest and dine—Firekeeper on fruit scavenged from the upper boughs of some well-tended trees, Blind Seer on any wild creature unfortunate enough to let him catch it.

  Shortly before dawn they halted. Firekeeper caught a fish in a stream and grilled it lightly over a fire built in a circle of river rocks. Their stopping place was along the edge of a mown hayfield. Firekeeper made them a burrow in the side of one of the many towering haystacks that dotted the acreage and there they slept warm and well.

  She woke stiff and with feet aching from the unaccustomed exertions, but as she had not let herself get too out of training—her run from Good Crossing to Silver Whale Cove had been only a few days before—soon her muscles loosened up and she had no trouble maintaining a tireless jog-trot.

  Blind Seer, of course, was not taxed within even an iota of his strength. He had time to range widely and did so, hunting freely and bringing back a portion of his kills for Firekeeper's meals.

  Elation scouted out their route, one that avoided main roads, towns, and even the larger farms. As in Hawk Haven, five generations had not been enough for the population of Bright Bay to recover from the ravages that had begun with plague and continued into war. Moreover, since the citizens of Bright Bay looked to the sea rather than the land as a source of wealth, most farmed for their own use rather than growing surplus for trade. Broad areas covered by second-growth forest were only just beginning to be reclaimed for farming or pasturage.

  Between these pockets of human habitation, wilderness abounded. Had it not been for the occasional scent of wood smoke or a trail bearing the marks of horse or wagon, Firekeeper might have thought herself already west of the Iron Mountains.

  This established the pattern for the remainder of their journey west. As the year was drawing into winter, the hours of darkness stretched longer and longer, giving them plenty of time to travel—for Elation was an unusual falcon, even among her kind, and had no problem flying by night.

  Her preference, however, was to course ahead while there was light—either early in the morning or as evening drew near—to map out their course, and then sleep through a few of the dark hours. In this way, Firekeeper and Blind Seer were spared at least some of her sardonic commentary on the sluggish pace of the wingless.

  They timed their arrival at the edge of the Barren Lands with hours of darkness to spare. The thriving towns of Hope and Good Crossing were just east of the foothills, and had they come in daylight there was a chance that they might have encountered people.

  None of them had reason to fear humans. Indeed, Firekeeper would probably have been known to most—at least by reputation. However, since their destination was a secret—Firekeeper still felt a little bad about having misled Derian—they had no wish to be seen.

  "Wisest," Elation said as they rested before beginning the climb, "if you follow the canyon cut by the Barren River. As I told you, the river has its birthplace in the mountain lake and so you will not be taken too far astray."

  Firekeeper frowned. She had seen something of river canyons during her migrations with the wolves and knew that sometimes even the cleverest pair of feet could not find purchase. Sometimes the water had risen to cover footholds; other times it had worn everything smooth.

  She expressed her concern to Elation, but the peregrine was confident.

  "Surely if you have trouble you can take to the waters for a spell. The great wolves don't fear getting wet, do they?"

  Firekeeper still had her doubts, but permitted herself to be convinced. Blind Seer, confident in his young strength—he was only rising four and despite his inborn wisdom had seen much less than had Firekeeper—was unconcerned.

  "We ground travelers must try to gain height as we travel," Firekeeper reminded bird and wolf. "Or else we may find ourselves at the foot of some great fall with a sheer cliff blocking our way."

  They entered the canyon and moved west for the remainder of that night's hours of darkness. However, after only a few hours' sleep Firekeeper punched Blind Seer awake.

  "I've been thinking," she said, speaking into his ear so as not to wake the peregrine. "Elation cannot be our scout in this place. She thinks too little of obstacles that would halt us, even force us to double back. From this point until we reach the top of the Barren Lands, we travel when there is light. If the traveling is good, we can continue after dark."

  The wolf grumbled some but was convinced by the mere fact that Firekeeper would go on without him. Moreover, he had already seen how the waters had sliced the sides of the canyon so that at times they had needed to jump from miniature island to miniature island rather than walking or running.

  Elation, when informed of Firekeeper's decision, merely shrugged her head into her feathered shoulders in a gesture of dismissal.

  "You know your limitations better than I," she said, and leapt into the air in a burst of wings to avoid Blind Seer's snap.

  By the end of that day, it was apparent that Firekeeper had chosen wisely. Her keen eyes, which she relied on as the wolf did his nose, found at a distance the trails that animals had used to come down to the river for water. These provided stretches of easier going, but as most of the animals who lived in the Barren Lands were small creatures—rodents and those who preyed on them, with the occasional goat or sheep—these trails were hardly broad highways.

  Moreover, the mountain wind liked the channel cut for it by the river and howled down it like some spring-maddened wolf. When the sun shone, the wind's game only made the travelers uncomfortable, but in the shadowed places ice formed wherever water had splashed, making the footing slick and treacherous.

  These difficulties slowed their progress. Indeed, sometimes Firekeeper imagined that by day's end they had progressed only a little distance farther west but had instead climbed endlessly upward. Other times she
could not even fancy that much progress, for they were forced to leave the river entirely, taking long detours through sharp broken rock that made Firekeeper reconsider—if only in the privacy of her thoughts—the wisdom of boots.

  But after day and night, day and night, and day again, they made camp to the sound of unbroken thunder and knew that they were nearing the source of the Barren River, the lake that humans called the Rimed Lake.

  The next dawn they began their final ascent and found themselves with some unexpected company. A kestrel as vibrantly blue and red as Norvin Norwood's favorite waistcoat—indeed far more brilliantly colored than any other representative of that type that Firekeeper had ever seen—fluttered down to meet them.

  Even though, as with most of the Royal Beasts, this kestrel was larger than usual, he was still diminutive when compared with Elation. Indeed, Firekeeper found herself doubting that this little hawk could best even a prime sparrow—but, then, the Cousin kestrel hunted mostly insects.

  "Bee Biter," Elation said, "what brings you here?"

  The tiny falcon darted down and perched on a twig slightly above them. Firekeeper was reminded of a songbird rather than a hawk—but Bee Biter's hooked beak and curving talons gave lie to that fancy. Still, she supposed that the protective coloration served the kestrel well.

  "I come to guide you this last way up the rock," the kestrel cried in a high, shrill voice. "I have watched and studied and will share my knowledge freely."

  Elation flapped her wings, clearly affronted that the other thought his guidance superior, but Firekeeper cut in before the peregrine could speak.

  "Thank you, fleet Bee Biter. We are grateful. My naked hands freeze to the rock and the spray from the waterfall chills my skin."

  "Follow then!" Bee Biter shrieked, bounding into the air. "Follow!"

  Unlike Elation, who must fly or soar, Bee Biter proved dexterous enough to nearly hover over them. His eye for detail was considerable and Firekeeper suspected that either he had been watching them and considering their limitations or he had watched other humans make this climb.