Rhamin

by Bryce THOMAS

  ‘We must assemble the pack,’ she stated as if suddenly enlightened. ‘We can defend ourselves then.’

  ‘Defend? From what Zelda?’

  ‘The other pack,’ she replied and then slumped down on her belly, exhausted.

  Yeltsa shook her head in disbelief. ‘The other pack? What is she talking about?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rhamin said with a sigh. ‘All I know is that we haven’t heard from Silvah or Natan for far too long. It could spell trouble.’

  ‘But we haven’t heard any other packs calling in our territory, have we?’

  ‘No,’ Rhamin replied. ‘Nor have any of our wolves called in to say they have seen any other packs about.’

  That evening, Rhamin gathered the wolves at the camp around him and explained that he thought there may be trouble brewing – although he knew not what. He announced that they were going to stay at the rendezvous point and wait for all the other wolves to join them. Until then, no one was going to go too far to call. To reach the Darin it was two or more days trek, travelling day and night in the direction of Charka and Powla and he knew that Silvah and Natan were somewhere in the opposite direction. There was hunting to do, the cubs needed to keep their food intake up to maintain their growth rate, and there was Zelda to consider. She needed feeding and she wasn’t up to travelling without rest for days.

  But despite being offered plenty of food, the rest of the travellers could not induce Zelda to eat much. She seemed constantly agitated. The cubs were giving the old story-teller a wide birth. She snapped at them whenever they went near her and she ignored them if they spoke to her. ‘Leave me alone,’ she would yap, getting up and moving further from the gathered pack. It created a feeling of gloom that gradually cast a cloud over all of them.

  ‘Well,’ Yeltsa said the following day as two more of the straying wolves arrived at the camp. ‘We are gathering the pack here. What else do you advise?’

  ‘Advise? Advise? What do you mean,’ came Zelda’s sharp reply.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Gran!’ Rasci, who was lying nearby, exclaimed exasperatedly. ‘It was your idea to stay here!’

  ‘Well all I can say, is that you should know,’ she reprimanded the youngster.

  Rasci shook his head and sighed. ‘Will she ever make sense?’ he whispered to Rhamin.

  Zelda also sighed. ‘My sight might be crap but I can hear perfectly well you young whelp!’

  ‘But you aren’t making sense,’ Rasci objected.

  ‘So who’s going to take my place? Don’t tell me I have been wasting my time on you? Why does it always have to be me?’ she called angrily.

  Rasci studied the face of the old wolf for several minutes while she seemed to get distracted by a mosquito that had landed on her paw. She licked the top of her foot where it had been parked. He was about to speak but Zelda beat him to it. ‘What do you see?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing!’ Rasci answered honestly.

  ‘Then what do you feel for goodness sake!’

  Rasci was going to give her the same reply when he suddenly stopped himself from speaking. He looked at Zelda and then, remembering what she had taught him, he began to relax, letting his eyes go out of focus, seeing nothing in his normal three dimensional world, but instead, seeing the pictures in his mind.

  ‘What do you see?’ Zelda urged him again.

  Rasci still stood in front of her, motionless, gazing through her into some far distant landscape.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Don’t rush me Gran!’ came his reply in a soft tone, indicating that she should let him concentrate and not disturb his train of thought. So Zelda waited patiently.

  Eventually, he spoke. ‘I see many wolves.’

  ‘Well, hooooray!!’

  ‘They’re not our wolves,’ he stated.’

  ‘Really!’ Her sarcasm was pointedly obvious.

  ‘No.’ He concentrated again, quite unaware of her manner. ‘I… I can’t tell if I am imagining this or seeing something,’ he said, afraid to go on.

  ‘You must say what you see,’ Zelda instructed.

  ‘I see Rhamin fighting with two… three… many of them!’ he said, eyes widening in disbelief as he concentrated on what was in front of him as if it were happening there and then.

  ‘Yes!!’ Zelda woofed. ‘Yes, I knew it!’

  ‘Knew it? Knew what?’

  ‘I… I knew I wasn’t just dreaming,’ Zelda cried out, the tone of relief in her voice clearly noticeable.

  ‘But I thought you always saw things in your dreams, Gran’ Her voice lowered from excitement to absolute seriousness.

  ‘Yes my little prodigy, but sometimes we begin to doubt ourselves. We begin to think that if the members of our pack are worried then we should worry. But that is a mistake. A mistake I tell you. We must never worry, because if we do, we let ourselves down and we let the pack down. If we worry, then our minds conjure up all the wrong answers to the questions that worrying raises.’

  ‘I don’t think you are making sense.’

  ‘What I am saying, young Rasci is that I was worried. I was imagining the worst!’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And, I’m telling you, you must not imagine, my little joker! You must not worry because you must not imagine the results of that worry. You must keep a clear and objective view of things… of everything. You must remain completely detached.’

  ‘But when you are part of a pack you worry about your friends!’

  ‘But you mustn’t,’ Zelda continued to instruct. ‘You mustn’t.’

  ‘It isn’t so easy to clear my mind?’ stated Rasci.

  ‘Well obviously not!’ the old wolf panted, her mouth opening in a wide smile of missing and worn down teeth.

  ‘Obviously not! Where your loved ones are concerned there is nothing harder than being totally detached and objective.’ Yeltsa had been listening to the conversation, transfixed by what was being said. At this moment she thought it opportune to break into the discussion. ‘So you saw Rhamin fighting?’ she posed.

  ‘Yes!’ Zelda and Rasci answered as one.

  ‘So we must go back to the Darin and prepare to defend ourselves,’ Yeltsa continued.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Rasci stated. There was a pause while the others waited for him to continue. ‘We will be going to them!’

  Rasci looked towards Zelda, who returned his glance. ‘What do you think, Gran?’

  ‘I’m asking you.’

  With a shrug, Rasci tilted his head towards his leader. Up till now, Rhamin had remained totally silent, letting Zelda do what she needed to. Zelda had been ill, if not in body, then, to some extent, she had been ill in her mind. It had been five or more days since she had communicated with any of them in any tangible way and now she was talking, she was well on her way to getting herself better. She was explaining it in her own way that she had not been able to detach herself from her pack because she was worrying. She had been unable to sort out fact from fiction created by a troubled mind. She had entered a cloud of confusion, and needed young Rasci to help her through it. Now she was well on her way to reaching the other side.

  Rhamin didn’t seem to be in the least surprised with what Zelda and Rasci had told him. Their curious looks eventually triggered a response. ‘I saw Corvak on my travels yesterday evening.’ He admitted.

  ‘And what did he tell you?’ Zelda asked eagerly. Suddenly, the cloud had dissipated. She was rapidly returning to her usual self.

  ‘Well you know I can only read his body language, but he was extremely agitated. He kept flying around in circles and then taking off towards the east. He did it time after time. I knew he wanted me to follow him, but I dare not for if I went in that direction I would soon be too far away from the pack to respond if there were any emergency. I acknowledged his warning though. I think he understood me.’

  ‘And what do you reckon is going on?’ Yeltsa asked as she licked his muzzle.

  ‘I still don’t know,’ he said
. ‘I honestly do not have any idea.’ He licked Yeltsa back on her nose and then said, ‘But I am going to do something about it, all the same.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘First, I am going to go look for Silvah.’ He looked into Yeltsa’s orange-yellow eyes. ‘Don’t worry,’ he comforted her. ‘I’ll be all right. But I want you to keep every other wolf on alert. And you must call me if there is the slightest threat of trouble.’

  Rhamin explained to Rasci that he had to look after Yeltsa and the pack whilst he himself was setting off immediately first to the north and then, following the mountains in the east, he would search for those wolves who had not arrived back at the camp. Charka and Powla were on their way to join them from the west and they would be back in the next day or so. The pack could then follow on after him. With that in mind, and sensing that time was now of greatest importance, he set off at a loping stride towards the great mountain range that fed the rivers into the eastern lakes.

  For six days and six nights he travelled, sleeping only a little and hunting on the way, catching mainly hares and ground fowl and stopping only to take time to eat them and find water with which to wash down the food. Each evening he would rest for a few hours after calling out and then listening for a response. He listened for a reply from his pack, but he knew he was now out of earshot. Then he strained his ears towards the mountains in the east, waiting and hoping that he would receive a reply. He called several times, at regular intervals, quietly listening in between for some sort of answer. But each time he called, no sound of wolves came to his ears.

  On the seventh night of his travels, however, his heart was lightened. He had sent out his usual call but when he heard nothing in return, he lay down and quietly listened to the sounds of the night. He got to his feet ready to call out once again and then, suddenly, from the south-east he detected a noise, a far and remote whisper. It was the faint call of a wolf. Muted by distance, it was muffled and unclear, but he knew it was Silvah’s call. He would have known her voice in a chorus of wolves. But then, there was silence. No more calls followed. Or if they did, he couldn’t hear them. The brief communication had ended.

  At first he began to doubt himself. Had he heard Silvah calling to him, or was it only what he wanted to hear? Was he so tired that he was imagining her voice, coming to him from somewhere in space? Nevertheless, his spirits had already been lifted. With strength flowing back into his weary body, he sniffed the air, looked at the stars to get his bearings and set out towards the mountain forests and his lost friend.

  The going wasn’t easy. The country was uneven and in places steep cliffs of impassable rock blocked his path. Making his way around them and regaining his direction by watching the stars, he loped on through the night. It was early morning when he reached the edge of a forest that, by his calculation was near the spot where Silvah had been when he had heard her. He knew the trees would have muffled the sound of her call, and now, as a grey daylight broke through the dark clouds, he stood up tall and howled once more. Patiently he waited, but no reply came his way. Once again he called out and once again the early morning air remained silent except for the call of awakening birds and for a cold stiff breeze that whistled through the branches towards him.

  He called a third time only to get the same soundless response.

  Dejectedly, he started off through the first tree line of the forest, but he had gone only a few yards when something on the breeze stopped him in his tracks. He lifted his nose to the wind and sniffed it carefully. He had made no mistake. His senses had picked up the scent of another pack of wolves, their scent marks probably somewhere close at the edge of the forest. Alerted to the danger, he paced carefully forward, listening, looking and sniffing to gain any advantage he could. He knew the unfamiliar wolf scent was that of another pack, and he knew that the pack would not be friendly. He carefully considered what Rasci had told him. Rasci and Zelda would no doubt be right. He was going to meet an enemy and he needed every advantage he could muster. He was travelling up wind, so his enemies would not be able to hear or smell him as quickly as he would detect them. But he had been calling out so they would know he was coming.

  Careful not to break from the cover of the trees, he made short bursts forward and then, stopping suddenly, he lay down as close to the ground as he could. Each time he stopped he sniffed the air and listened. He was in no doubt that the pack would have heard him. They would have heard Silvah last night. But where was she? He lifted his body off the ground and darted forward another few hundred yards. Once again he flattened himself against the ground in the soft pine needles. He was in no hurry. He waited, watched and smelt the air. Eventually, he heard noises, not of voices but of movement. It was a muffled sound, softened by a wall of trees and the bed of pine needles, but he knew it was footsteps that he could hear, and they were coming towards him, slowly, carefully, deliberately. Still he waited, biding his time, letting the danger come to him. Quietly he burrowed himself into the pine needles. The shuffling sounds stopped and started more times than he could count. At first he estimated that they were coming from deep in the forest, but eventually, he tensed his whole body as the sound came so close that he felt he could reach out and touch it. He knew now that he could attack and strike within seconds. All he needed was to be able to see his target. The trees formed a thick barrier, allowing no straight line of vision for more than ten or fifteen yards, and they slowed the breeze down to a standstill. He held his breath, sniffing the air, and gave out a low squeak. He was sure the air carried the scent of Silvah, but not the Silvah he knew. This Silvah was unwashed. And there was something else about the scent that disturbed him deeply.

  Still motionless, he waited and watched the trees ahead. The scent was coming closer and as it did so, it became stronger. Now, he was in no doubt that Silvah wasn’t well. But he dare not move. He knew there were other wolves about. What was strange though, was that he had not once, despite getting closer to them every day, heard any of them calling out. As time slowly passed he eventually caught sight of movement in the trees. Slowly and deliberately something was moving towards him, trying not to be heard, and keeping close to the ground. He waited.

  Whatever it was, Rhamin was prepared to wait until it was right upon him before he gave his position away. Still it smelled like Silvah, but not like her in another way. And then, he caught a glimpse of her. It was Silvah. She looked to be moving slowly, stopping and glancing behind her every few seconds. Then she would move forward past another few trees and stop and repeat her actions. Rhamin felt like jumping up and greeting her as he would greet any returning pack member, but he knew that would be unwise. Something about her behaviour warned him to stay where he was. Something was very wrong here. There was unseen danger, something menacing and malevolent.

  Eventually, Silvah moved within ten yards of him, heading past, not detecting his presence. As she went by, he could tell she was injured. She moved forward in bursts, first on her toes and then with her belly on the ground. Creeping forward slowly, foot by foot, yard by yard she went by. Still, her behaviour was unsettling. She was close enough now for Rhamin to see that she had a wound on her shoulder, not a new wound, but one that was festering and weeping, sending a stream of discharged, foul smelling liquid down her coat, staining it dark against her silver guard hairs.

  Unsure why she was behaving as she was, he slowly raised himself up and squeaked very softly; no louder than a mouse. Silvah stopped dead in her tracks, standing up a little shakily, but otherwise, remaining motionless. Rhamin squeaked again, no louder than the first call. This time, Silvah turned her head and, seeing her leader, lowered her ears and gave a slight wag of her tail. Still she did not greet him. Instead, trying not to acknowledge him, she stood up tall, looked straight ahead and circled around him, heading off at an angle. Rhamin settled back down on his belly, deep into the bed of pine needles and watched as now, Silvah, on her toes, and moving faster, headed past towards the edge of the forest.


  And then Rhamin could smell it. It was the smell of danger; the scent of unknown strange wolves. He knew Silvah was leading them to him but at the same time she was leading them past him. As they came into sight, Rhamin counted three, then a fourth some distance away. Soon, the nearest two were almost upon him but yet, they were so intent on watching and tracking Silvah, following her every move, that they did not see him. When he was sure that he had counted all that were there, and as the nearest wolf trod only feet away, Rhamin raised himself out of the needles, stood to full height and growled. He barred his teeth, laid back his white ears, and startling the wolf which had spun around to see what had made the noise, he lunged forward and grabbed it by the throat. As he did so, from the corner of his eyes he could see the other three wolves spin around, hackles raised and heading towards him.

  A quick twist of his powerful jaws, and a more powerful whiplashing shake with his head, dispatched his victim. He let it fall to the ground, and stepped to one side to take the two nearest wolves head on. They were on him in no more than a second, bounding towards him, shoulder to shoulder. Rhamin stood his ground, snarled, stood up once again to full height and met them square on. He parried as if he was going to grab the one on the left, but then, as that wolf faltered, suspecting he would be caught like the first wolf, in Rhamin’s powerful jaws, Rhamin swung his broad head to the right instead, sunk his long teeth into the shoulder of the other one, and let its momentum roll him backwards. They tumbled through the soft mulch, the attacker snarling and lashing with his teeth to try and get a hold of Rhamin. But Rhamin kept his hold on its shoulder and, eventually, as they rolled to a stand still, and using his superior weight, he ended up straddled over his combatant. Just then the third wolf, teeth gnashing, came at him from the side so Rhamin let go of his quarry and turned to meet the attacker, both rising up on their back legs as they lashed out and snapped at each other, each one trying to gain the first hold. Rhamin suddenly bounced around, landing to one side, giving himself a full view of the remaining three attackers. The one he had tumbled with was regaining its feet, the second was preparing to attack again and the third, which had been some way away when Rhamin had sprung his surprise attack, was now quickly closing the distance between them. It was this wolf that Rhamin set his eyes upon. The other two were a little disparaged, firstly by their failure to get to grips with him, but also because of his size.