Rhamin

by Bryce THOMAS

  She was there a long time, and after she had gone, Rasci ventured into the kitchen through the still open door. Smokey came to greet him and he licked her on the nose. There was something hanging above Lexa’s prone body that looked to contain liquid, and from it a tube ran down to her foreleg where it was bound to her with another white bandage.

  ‘They took some of my blood,’ said Smokey, her face strained with worry, ‘and they gave it to Lexa.’

  Rasci just listened to her, fascinated, as she explained what had happened. He was greatly impressed. Everyone in the Rozalski household was doing what they could to save his wolf dog.

  None of the wolves felt like eating that night but over the next two days Raymond offered Rhamin, Yeltsa and Rasci plenty of raw meat. Knowing that pining for their comrade would not help them recover, the wolves eventually began to eat. They took only a little food on the first day but then, on the second, they ate well for they knew they needed to build up their strength. Rhamin and Yeltsa in particular were badly under-nourished and they needed to put on some weight to even attempt the journey back home to the Darin.

  Corvak had flown in and joined them on the first day. Unlike his wolf friends, he ate well and then flew off in the direction of the Darin.

  Not until the third day after the fight did the wolves show any desire to leave the garden of the farmstead. It was early in that morning when Rhamin replied to a wolf call from Silvah. She had told him that, after a few skirmishes, the remainder of the renegade pack had disappeared. Rhamin was back; their enemies all knew that, and with the backing of their man friend, Roxana and her followers seriously feared retribution.

  Raymond was already awake. He knew then that Rhamin’s pack members awaited them. His guests had suddenly become restless and ill at ease. They needed to join their pack.

  But even then, it was hard for the wolves to leave without their wolf dog Lexa. Although she had opened her eyes for just a few seconds on the second day, she was still gravely ill and had taken no food or water. They knew that in the wild open spaces of their territory, the chances of a wolf surviving such wounds would have been nil. She would have died within hours from loss of blood, or she would have been finished off by predators. The vultures would have started feeding on her open wounds even before she had taken her last breath.

  The only thought that consoled them was that now she was in the one place where she had the best chance of survival.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  But the life of the pack had to go on and when the wolves reunited, it was with a sense of exuberance that even though tainted with sadness, Rasci had never experienced before.

  Celebrations took up a great part of the afternoon as all the wolves rejoiced. Rasci was welcomed back as a hero and he, Rhamin and Yeltsa, despite their injuries, joined in the celebration too.

  Deep down, Rasci’s heart wasn’t in revelry, but he put on a brave face and joined in the merriment best he could, despite feeling like he would rather go away somewhere and die. It wasn’t his wounds that made him feel like that. It was his heart and soul. They had been ripped out and trampled by a buffalo.

  He had left Lexa dying, still no better than when Raymond had carried her from his vehicle and placed the limp body on his table. The farmer had stitched up all of Lexa’s gaping wounds, but what good had it done? She had lost more blood than Rasci thought she could have ever carried in her veins. Lexa in good health would surely have cheered his spirit, but now he may have even lost her.

  However, she had still been breathing when they left the farmstead and that gave him hope. But, Lexa apart, his heart was still broken. He had believed in Roxana but now he had no idea if he had just been unlucky to be betrayed by a particularly clever and cunning wolf, or if he was really as stupid as she had said he was. The feeling lasted for days while the pack rallied around both leaders, waiting for decisions to be made, but although he showed them how much he appreciated their loyalty, Rasci’s heart wasn’t in any way inclined towards leadership. Several wolves, including Natan, offered to go with Rasci if he wanted to start a new pack, and Rhamin told him he could take over any part of the territory he wanted. But it was an offer that Rasci could not accept. Since Rhamin’s return his headaches had completely disappeared. He hadn’t had to make a single decision and, despite his sadness, he had, for a short time at least, acted the fool, playing with the cubs and all the young wolves.

  As each day passed into night, his thoughts drew more and more to Lexa. He went to the back of the cave and meditated for the first time since Rhamin had returned. Why hadn’t he done it recently, he wondered? It was as if he didn’t need to remote view any more. His responsibilities had been handed back over to the old leader. Or was it that his mind had, for too long now, been drawn away to some other light in his life, a burning flame that had rapidly began to burn so brightly that he had begun to see nothing else around him. But it was a light that, when he reached out to grasp it, had caused him to be very badly burned. Then suddenly it had blinked out as if it had never been there in the first place. He thought about Roxana, constantly trying to work out if it had all been about power and domination rather than love and affection. Well now, despite the embers of that firestorm still smouldering inside him, he knew that this night he needed to go to see his wolf dog. She had put her life on the line to save his, as any wolf in the pack would have done, he knew that. But he couldn’t help feeling there was more to it than that. Why did he think of Lexa as his wolf dog? He suddenly felt compelled to see her.

  Sure enough, she was where he expected to find her. She was lying next to Smokey who was fast asleep. When they had left the farmstead his wolf dog was lying on her side, her rib cage rising and falling so slowly that he couldn’t tell if she had already stopped breathing. Now she lay on her stomach and dozed with her head on her paws, breathing steadily but not really sleeping. She still had huge scars on her body with crimpled lines where the edges of her skin had been sewn together. The wounds were open to the air but had been coloured with something purple, a die that stained not only the edges of the wounds but the dark coat around them. Rasci’s heart was lifted as he stood beside her and realised that, through some miracle worked by Raymond Rozalski, she was going to survive. And somehow, just like Ben had done, she noticed Rasci’s ghostly figure. She lifted her head. Her floppy ears turned forward and her brow creased with the same old curious look she used when asking a question.

  ‘Hello Lexa,’ Rasci said in his mind. Lexa tilted her head on one side. She was definitely stronger. Her stump of a tail moved from one side to another ever so slightly. But she didn’t make a sound. Rasci was sure she knew he was there. Then suddenly he realised they were not alone.

  ‘Hello Rasci,’ Ben’s small voice said happily. ‘You’ve come to see us again! I thought perhaps you had forgotten us now.’ He had come down stairs in the night, as he often did, for a drink of milk. He looked as surprised to see his wolf friend as Rasci was to see him.

  ‘That will never happen,’ Rasci said affectionately. And he knew that was the truth.

  ‘Lexa is getting better,’ Ben said excitedly. He went over to the dog and stroked her muzzle. ‘The lady vet gave her some of Smokey’s blood and some salty water. She said it was her only chance.’

  Lexa looked at her little friend and licked his hand, a kiss of a lick, like wolves of the pack give to each other when they meet.

  Rasci’s heart soared, lifted high on wings of relief. He still had his ability to visit his friends. He had established that Lexa was going to be all right. And he was positive that his wolf dog, like Ben, could see into another dimension. Now that was something to think about!

  ‘Talking to Rasci, I suppose?’ came the voice of Raymond Rozalski from the stairs.

  ‘He’s here, daddy! He’s come to see how Lexa is.’ Raymond nodded. ‘I know,’ he said, looking at the way both his son and Lexa were looking at a point in the air a few feet from their faces.

  Smokey heard the voi
ces and finally awoke. She too could sense Rasci’s presence, although she couldn’t see him. She stood up and went over to where the vision of Rasci was standing and sniffed around, trying to locate him. Then she looked at Lexa and Ben with a look of puzzlement on her face before returning to her basket in the corner.

  ‘I’ll see you soon,’ Rasci said to them as he turned to go. This time Lexa squeaked, not an audible sound that Ben or the farmer and his family could hear, but nevertheless one that Rasci heard.

  –––––––

  As the days passed, Rasci still thought about his encounter with Roxana. How could he forget? Zelda had once said to him, “you are a part of everyone you meet,” and so, inevitably, Roxana was a part of him. And understanding that, he was not so bitter now. But since then, all the stress of life had dissipated. The past weeks had just been a cauldron of nightmarish events, which he wanted to forget, and although he knew that total amnesia would never happen, he knew the challenges and worries that had dragged at his whole being were finally over. Now, day dreaming about unimportant things, once more there was peace and tranquillity in his life. Now, despite the dull ache of disappointment that tugged heavily at his soul, he was the old Rasci again and was discovering that, despite the past, his life hadn’t changed all that much at all. He slept when he liked, played the fool when he liked and generally reverted to being his old self. And for Rhamin, Yeltsa and the rest of the pack too, life had settled back to a happy, easy going existence with plenty of game to hunt and plenty of time to sleep.

  The only real worry any of them had was their concern for their wolf dog, Lexa. Rasci had explained to the rest of the pack that he had seen her and that she was getting better. They all knew he was right. None would ever doubt his psychic abilities again. Lexa still remained at the farm, however, and was to do so, it turned out, until she could regain all of her strength. She was still weak and needed more care than the pack could ever have given her; and Raymond Rozalski was the only creature that could make sure she was given the attention she needed.

  –––––––

  It was Corvak that, more than three weeks later, brought the good news that Lexa was about to return. He had been to visit her several times and always brought back news that, spun into one of his narratives, enchanted the whole pack in the late hours of the evening. Escorted and guided by the black raven and met by a pack of excited wolves, the farmer himself, along with his children and Maria and Smokey, drove Lexa as near as was possible to the Darin to meet her pack once again. Although he would have liked her to remain at the farm as a companion for Smokey, he knew that her home would always be with the wolves.

  The celebrations that took place when Lexa returned lasted as long as they had done for the leaders’ arrival, the whole pack displaying their fondest affection for their heroine. The wolves all milled around the Rozalskis, not one remotely afraid. Yeltsa went over to Raymond and let him rub her broad head. Then, he bent down and looked at her bandaged leg. Though badly soiled the splint and its wrapping were still in tact. He took a sharp tool from his pocket and gently cut away the grubby binding. Yeltsa lost no time in going to show Rhamin that her leg was completely healed. He was getting particular attention from Maria. She would never forget how he had saved her.

  On her feeble legs, Zelda wobbled precariously towards Ben and Margo, and spent some time licking their faces and hands to thank them for what they and their father had done for Lexa, Rhamin and the pack. She had, for a long time, wanted to meet Rasci’s little friends. The farmer and his family stood and watched the wolves’ celebrations for a good half hour while Smokey seemed to get special attention from the wolves who had, no doubt, all been told of her part in ending the battle.

  Eventually, they all watched as Raymond and his family drove off into the distance and then they danced and played and squeaked their greetings to Lexa over and over again. Some of the wolves brought food from the cave and the pack ate until, having feasted until they could eat no more, their excitement abated. Eventually, tired and feeling happy that it was good to be alive, they all retired from the blazing sunshine into the cool depth of the cave to sleep.

  Rhamin rested his head on his front paws and leaned his body against Yeltsa as they dozed off into their restoring sleep. Rasci went to his usual place at the rear of the cave, not far from Silvah and old Zelda. They had long ago left the party and had already succumbed to deep dreamless sleep. Lexa had also retired to the back of the cave. For a long time now she had been thinking of her two older companions whose thick coats next to her had saved her life so many times during the bitter cold winter. It was her turn to watch over them now.

  Wearily, Rasci lay down next to them and thought that the day really couldn’t have been any more perfect. His eyes closed, his head sunk slowly onto his feet and he began to dream.

  Suddenly, he lifted his head. His ears pricked forward. Had he heard something? Was it just a wolf stirring in its sleep?

  Nothing.

  The subsonic vibrations were still so far away they were almost inaudible. He rested his head back on his paws and, tiredness creeping over him, he settled down to sleep and dream again.

  –– THE END ––

  Author's Note

  The mid twentieth century was a time when wolf populations were decreasing rapidly due to many factors including farm expansion, deforestation and in particular a paranoia that drove the human species to hunt wolves to virtual extinction. It was brought about possibly by a dislike of the wolf for being more than co-incidentally comparable to the human species in its social and hunting behaviour. Long ago when man hunted for his food the wolf co-existed in great numbers. Then, when agriculture and domestication of animals developed with the consequent enclosure of those creatures, man began to take away the hunting grounds of the wolf and naturally the wolf preyed to some extent on the farm stock. The hunting of wolves that preyed on domestic animals was a natural reaction. But it did not end there. During the late

  19th century early and mid 20th century the human species killed, tortured and bragged about their slaughter of wolves. They hunted them professionally and for sport and, although wolves have rarely been known to attack humans, they were hunted down in the name of self preservation. The almost overwhelming pathological hatred of wolves resulted in government financed extermination programs, especially in the USA.

  There are few recorded and confirmed reports of wolves attacking humans in the USA. In Europe, there were a few incidents where wolves preyed on human beings, and in those cases their prey was mainly children (hence the depiction of wolves as savage beasts in many fairy stories). One pair of wolves killed over sixty children in France in the mid 18th century and that resulted in thousands of wolves being killed in an attempt to kill the pair responsible. But as a rule, wolves and man co-existed. The North American Indians and the Eskimos admired wolves for their hunting skills and many tribes named their members after the wolf. Compared with the savagery of man, the wolf is a social and relatively harmless animal.

  Throughout many parts of the world, in the last thirty years, there have been attempts to repatriate wolves to their original homelands, although these are much smaller areas than the total geographical coverage in the northern hemisphere that wolves dominated two or three hundred years ago. The legislature of the USA in particular, (after passing laws in the earlier part of the century offering bounty on wolves to eradicate them) has taken steps in the US Endangered Species Act of 1976 to protect wolves, although even today wolves (including those wearing tracking collars) are still killed.

 

 

 
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