Rhamin

by Bryce THOMAS

  One bitter cold morning after returning with food from a successful hunt, Rhamin decided to consult his aged seer. He had waited and waited for Lexa to say something to him, to tell him what was ailing her, or to tell him why she was unhappy, but she had not so much as spoken a dozen words to him in the last two weeks. Now, he had to ask Zelda. If she didn’t know the answer to his questions then he was afraid that the pack was going to lose Lexa, one way or another.

  ‘Are you awake old thing?’ He asked as he approached the curled up mass of fur that more and more resembled just another rough boulder in the dark depths of the cave.

  The soft boulder expanded slightly as Zelda took in a deep breath, and then a nose poked out from beneath a thick brushy tail. ‘I am, young wolf,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t sleep all the time. Sometimes I just think and sometimes I just daydream. Sometimes…’

  ‘Well that’s good,’ Rhamin cut in. He saw his opportunity now. ‘What’s wrong with Lexa?’ he asked. A straight question to get a straight answer for once.

  ‘Well, she’s not like us,’ Zelda stated matter of factly.

  ‘Haven’t you noticed?’

  Rhamin blew out his breath in a long cloud of water vapour. ‘Of course I have noticed she’s different,’ he said, once again not knowing just what Zelda was getting at. ‘Isn’t there ever a definitive answer to any of my questions?’

  ‘Oh yes my young master. However, for such simple answers you need to ask simple questions.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Zelda!’

  Zelda could detect a hint of annoyance creeping into Rhamin’s voice.

  ‘You just see her as another wolf, don’t you Rhamin? You don’t really see her as anything other than one of our pack. We all look different in some way and she is no exception. That’s it, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well, she is one of the pack!’ Rhamin protested. ‘She was brought up as one of us and always will be one of us.’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s one of us all right, I grant you that, but you don’t see it do you?’

  ‘Don’t see what for goodness sake? You always speak in riddles Zelda. When are you ever going to tell me it as it is, instead of making me have to work out what you mean?’

  Zelda wrapped her tail around her legs and sighed. ‘Oh Rhamin my child, you are a wonderful wolf. You care for your pack like no other I have ever known, but you can be so thick sometimes!’

  ‘Well thanks for that vote of allegiance! I was beginning to wonder if it was just my size that made the pack follow me!’

  ‘Don’t be silly! For heaven’s sake! You know what I mean.’ She shuffled herself into a position so that, as she curled her tail around her feet, she looked like a thick grey woollen mat with a protruding black nose. ‘Oh yes you are a giant among wolves, but that is not why the pack follow you. They don’t follow you through fear. They follow you because they respect you. You would die for any of them, and you treat them like your own family, even those that have joined from other packs. They want to be with you, don’t you see?’ She buried her nose in her fur and closed her eyes, sighing.

  ‘Well, yes, of course.’ He looked at Zelda and waited for her to carry on talking. He knew that if he just stood there, she would eventually continue the conversation. Slowly she opened her eyes and lifted her nose from her fur again.

  ‘I’m old and I do not move about a lot,’ she began. That’s why, when you are all outside, totally immune to the bitter icy wind, I stay in the shelter of the cave.’

  ‘Right,’ Rhamin said, still waiting for her to speak plainly. ‘So you feel the cold!’

  ‘Well haven’t you noticed that Lexa has no thick coat, no impenetrable undercoat like wolves? She is a wolf at heart but she was born… a dog. She was born in a man’s world where they keep dogs in their homes and do silly things like cutting off the tails of the young pups. They are bred to be companions to men not to wolves.’

  Rhamin nodded, finally realising what she meant. ‘Sorry Zelda, I am being thick!’ He lay down beside the old wolf, wondering just how many more winters the ancient old wolf could survive.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking young Rhamin, and I expect that I’ll not see many more years in your pack, but you will be all right. There are others who will replace me.’ Before he could ask who, she went on. ‘Lexa is feeling the cold. She sleeps close up to me and when she’s not with me I have seen her snuggling in between Ramusan and Depni, or any other two that happen to be lying conveniently close together.’

  ‘But she could have said something!’

  ‘She doesn’t say anything because she’s a wolf. She doesn’t see herself as any different to the rest of us. Okay, she has seen a reflection of her face in the still water of the lake but it isn’t the same as seeing herself like we see her. She sees that she has smaller paws and most of all she realises she has no brush tail to wrap around herself to keep her warm. But since we have all taken her in as one of us, even the others including you don’t notice any difference. She’s just one of us, don’t you see?’

  ‘Well now I do! But she could have told us she was suffering from the cold.’

  ‘It’s not as easy as that, Rhamin. She suddenly feels cold but sees the rest of the pack carrying on as normal. She thinks she is ill so she comes to the cave and snuggles up to me. She goes hunting on her own and keeps herself out of the way of the pack because she doesn’t want to be a liability.’

  ‘But she could have talked to me about it,’ Rhamin said, rather upset now that Lexa had not seen fit to confide in him.

  ‘Stupid cub,’ Zelda scolded. ‘She no more wanted you to know than she was prepared to accept the fact herself. She still hasn’t accepted the fact that she’s different. She’s just working her way through the problem in her own way.’

  ‘Right,’ Rhamin said softly. He thought for a moment. This time Zelda didn’t speak as she would normally do when he fell silent. She just looked at him and waited. She let him work out what he was going to do and then he spoke again. ‘I’m going to have a talk with her,’ he said eventually. He looked at Zelda with compassionate eyes. ‘Thanks, Zelda. I… I…’

  ‘Pooh,’ Zelda broke in, ‘talking won’t help much.’ She buried her face in her thick tail and closed her eyes as if to sleep. Rhamin knew the sign and, frowning to himself, quietly left her in peace.

  –––––––

  Rhamin watched Lexa closely. He could see now how easily she would suffer from the cold. During the coldest weather, when she emerged from the Darin, if she stopped moving about for any length of time, she would begin to shiver uncontrollably until she moved again. On the rare occasion she joined them on the hunt, sighting the prey was the climax to her day. She joined in the chase, playing her part as one of the pack and, with the exertion, raised her body temperature once again. She was fine while the pack kept moving, but when they stopped, she would just keep scouting around, never stopping until tiredness forced her to rest. Then, her body would take over once again, shaking shivers racking her body, creating heat the only way it could.

  Rhamin had not spoken about her coat to Lexa. Instead, he spoke to the rest of the pack. They, too, had seen her strange behaviour and when Rhamin explained what had brought about the change in Lexa, they all understood immediately. It was as if a blindfold had suddenly been taken off their eyes. They now saw Lexa for what she actually was, a dear member of the pack, but a dog! And, as the other wolves realised that their adopted pack member was going to need help to keep warm they acted accordingly, not saying anything at all to their trusted friend, just acting differently. All were instructed not to speak of it to Lexa. But a plan was hatched.

  From that day on, during the extremely cold wintry periods, Lexa was given the task of guarding the Darin and looking after Zelda, along with one volunteer, Silvah. Rhamin explained the instruction by stating that he could not leave the old wolf unguarded as he suspected that Solin, although many miles away, had still not departed from the territory. With this si
mple instruction, Lexa’s face changed noticeably. She carried her ears forward and a light returned to her eyes that had almost been extinguished. It was the light of responsibility, a light of belonging, of feeling to be one of the pack; the light of love of, and by, her family. Her instructions were clear. She was to remain in or about the Darin guarding Zelda, and Silvah was to remain close at hand. And although travelling further out into the forest and onto the plain in the warmer spells, she was to remain with the other two wolves at times of extreme cold, and especially at night when the temperatures plummeted, making sure that Lexa had two warm coats lying close beside her at all times. Lexa gradually regained the weight that had left her so suddenly. For an animal without an extra thick coat of fur, fat is the next best insulator.

  Winter is not always cold, however. Even with snow on the ground, days can be warm and sunny, and on those days, Zelda as well as Lexa emerged from the safety of their den and joined the others in the play activities that would soon become essential to the survival of the whole pack.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Many human beings have a new year that, in the Northern Hemisphere, curiously starts in the darkest, wildest month when the true winter weather, as humans and wolves alike know it, is just about to take its cold, icy grip on the more northerly regions. The new year for wolves, and almost all other animals and plants is springtime, the time of new growth and regeneration; the time when plants and trees display their blossom for pollination; the time when the winter berries are ripe for picking so that the seeds within the fruits can be passed through digestive tracts, stratified, dispersed and given new life in pastures, and crevices, growing from within their newly deposited and fertile eco- compost.

  Once again, scarcity of food meant maintaining their large territory and protecting it from habitation by other packs of wolves which, if discovered on their patch, would be dispatched by any means available. It is at times like these that wolves will kill wolves of other packs. If the insurgents do not flee, then their fate will be decided by the dominant pack leader. And this came to pass.

  It was at a well used rendezvous point, a day's travel away from the Darin, that the whole pack settled down to sleep after feeding on a buffalo brought down in the early hours of the spring morning. Once again, their old friend, Corvak, had given them news that the small herd was travelling down to the plain. The sun was already warming the ground and, sated on their feast, the pack lay resting and sleeping in the shade of a straggling skeleton of a wood next to a small, winding river.

  There was, somewhere in the distance, a rumbling sound, an indefinable drone. Natan heard it first. He pricked up his ears and, lifting his head off the ground, gave an involuntary woof, a reaction triggered by a subconscious need in all animals to alert, to warn, when danger is sensed, whether it be real or imagined. The action instantly triggered alert in all the other wolves and, seconds later, they were on their feet and racing towards the edge of the river. From there, out of the way of the trees, they could see along the plain and into the distance. With ears pricked and rotating to locate the exact direction from which the noise was coming, they listened, looked and waited. First it was a cloud of dust in the distance that appeared like the beginning of a grass fire. Then, as the distant rumbling sound became louder, turning into a defined mechanical sound that the wolves had all heard before, the wheeled vehicles emerged. The sun glinted off the glass as the charging vehicles twisted and turned through the tussock grass. There were no man made tracks. The men’s mechanical horses had to weave in and out of the rocks and the fallen trees. Despite their inherent speed, they were reduced to travelling no faster than the running wolves that now, Rhamin and his pack could plainly see, were fleeing their pursuers, and heading for the cover of the trees that formed the beginning of the up hill rise of the rocky and forested foothills. There were four of them, swerving around rocks, jumping fallen trees, as dust sprang up around them and at their heels. Then the sound of the men’s fire sticks, like tiny cracks of thunder arrived at the ears of Rhamin’s pack long after the consequence of their use had passed.

  There were two of the men’s carriages. They bounced about like pine cones on a white river as they crossed ruts and hit stones, swerved to avoid holes and trees and corrected their course to continue their pursuit. The wolves were running for their lives; the men, with a sense of sheer desperate determination, were intent on taking that from them.

  Rhamin drew his pack into a hollow behind the deep bank of the river. The water was running fiercely, but the level was lower than it had been in the winter rains. Lower down, the bank was shaded by a clump of bog willow. It was an adequate hideout, giving cool shade beside the tumbling water. Patiently, the wolves watched and waited. Rhamin made it quite clear that no one was to move or give away their position. The men could not know that the wolves of Rhamin were there. For the time being, at least, they were safe. It was a matter of waiting to see what was happening without panicking and giving away their position, a position which, had they broken their cover, would have been almost impossible to flee without the vehicles being able to give chase, for the men’s carriages were now between the wolves and the safety of the forest.

  As Rhamin suspected, the vehicles headed past them with little attempt to search the river bank. Perhaps one of the passengers had glanced over in their direction, but from their watching post beneath the shade of the blooming willows, Rhamin was sure nothing and no one had been seen. The men’s hunting party kept up a steady, relentless pace, until it disappeared into the tree line on the horizon. Hardly slowing, the vehicles could be seen weaving in and out of the sparse growth until, eventually, the tree cover hid them completely.

  We’ll head in the opposite direction tonight, Rhamin stated. There was no sense in heading towards danger, and vehicles like those, driven with such purpose, were likely to be big trouble. The wolves settled back in the shade and slept the day out.

  Then Rhamin heard it; a howl, but it was not a call from one of their own pack because all Rhamin’s family were there beside him. Even old Zelda was travelling with them. She had no suggestions as to where the men and their vehicles were heading. But the howl was not just a wolf trying to locate his band. It was a wolf desperate to warn someone. Both Silvah and Zelda knew what the howl meant. They looked at each other and then Silvah spoke. ‘That is one of Solin’s pack,’ she said pensively. ‘She is calling to Solin, warning him, telling him to run. But I can’t understand whether he is being warned to run for his life or he is being warned for something else.’

  ‘Solin?’ Rhamin asked. ‘I thought he might have left to take over the Northern Territory by now. What is he still doing so far south?’

  ‘He never left,’ Zelda said curtly. ‘He still wants your skin sun bleached on a rocky, river bank. He is obviously going to challenge you again.’

  ‘Well he has a funny way of going about it,’ Rhamin said dismissively. ‘He doesn’t have the backbone to challenge me alone. And he can’t think all his pack will stand and fight for something that they don’t believe in. They know where they belong. It’s only Solin that doesn’t belong in the north. But he doesn’t seem to have got his head round that yet.’

  ‘But what does it all mean?’ asked Ramusan. ‘Why are those people after Solin?’

  ‘I hate to think,’ Silvah answered for her master. ‘But we could go and find out.’

  ‘Now just wait a minute,’ Rhamin said angrily. ‘If you think I am going to endanger a single wolf in my pack just to find out what Solin has got himself into, then you can think again. Solin is his own worst enemy. I really have no interest in what he is doing apart from why he is still in my territory.’

  ‘But that’s just it,’ Silvah replied. ‘We can only find that out if we go and investigate. I am sure that there is a connection here.’

  Zelda had remained quiet for some time. As the conversation waned, she stood up and walked to the centre of the gathering. ‘I think Silvah is right,’ she said q
uietly to Rhamin. ‘Something tells me that Solin and you are inextricably linked in some way.’

  ‘Not as far as I am concerned,’ Rhamin said firmly. ‘Unless I am destined to kill him at some stage in his murky life.’

  ‘That might be so. But we need to find out, I am sure of it.’ Rhamin lay down and folded his paws one on top of the other. It was inevitable that he would have to see what Solin was up to sooner or later. But had it got to be just now, while men in wheeled vehicles were hunting all around him? ‘Perhaps they aren’t after Solin,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Perhaps it is just a coincidence. The men are heading his way and one wolf in his pack is just warning him to get out of the way.’ But the supposition seemed weak even to Rhamin. All he wanted was peace and quiet. He had always had to fight young male wolves because he was the one to beat. He was bigger than any other wolf. Whereas an average wolf would weigh forty to fifty kilograms, Rhamin weighed nearer ninety. He was taller, longer and stronger than any wolf around at that time. It was imperative for would-be pack leaders and lone male wolves to challenge the giant black wolf. But, despite the fact that they were no match for Rhamin, he had never killed a lone challenger. Rhamin wanted wolves to live in peace. He breathed out a big sigh, got up and went over to the river bank, and settled down in the river washed gravel. He waited and thought. No other wolf had any better suggestions, and at this particular moment, waiting seemed good.

  No time at all seemed to have passed before Corvak glided into a faultless landing on the upper most branch of the tallest willow. Rhamin looked up as Zelda went over and sat beneath the old raven. There was an exchange of noises between them. Clicking and cawing, the two old friends were oblivious to the watching audience. ‘I don’t believe it,’ Silvah said suddenly. Rhamin knew that Silvah could understand them. But it wasn’t just Silvah.