by Robert Beers
Adam could feel the sweat breaking out. Alternating waves of hot and cold washed through him. “You did this? Why?”
“I'm sorry, my boy. It's an unfortunate side effect of the teaching.” Milward dug around in his pouches while Adam proceeded to be violently ill.
Adam looked up after he finished vomiting. “Unfortunate ... side ...effeeuuugggccchhh?!”
Milward continued rummaging in his pouches. “Yes, Hit me hard a couple of times during my first century, but a Wizard's got to learn ... ah! Here we are.” He held up a leaf. It had a sawtooth edge to it and smelled pungently spicy when he held it under Adam's nose. “Chew this. It will help the heaves.”
Adam took the leaf and chewed it. It tasted of resins and spice, not at all unpleasant. Another spasm cramped his stomach and he shook with chills. He almost wished the fever would return. “Wh ... wh ... when will it work?”
Milward looked into his eyes again and grunted as if he'd seen what he expected. “Hmm, yes ... how's your head, now, Adam?”
Adam noticed the Wizard used his name instead of lad, or my boy. “It hurts.”
Milward grunted again and pulled a vial of white powder out of his pouch, poured some of the powder into a small cup. He then mixed a couple pinches of a light green powder into it and filled the cup with water from his flask. He held the cup away from his body and drew his other hand over and away from the cup like he was picking cotton. Steam came out of the cup, following his hand. “Here, drink this.”
The fever started up again, along with the sweating. Adam took the steaming cup in both hands to keep it from slipping loose.
Milward watched him drink it. “Willit and Phedri. It will help the headache and...”
Whhhhaaaacchhhooooo!
“...the sneezing. You hit my robe.”
“Ib soddy.”
“This was my best robe.”
“I sab Ib soddy.”
“I spent a lot of coin on this robe.”
Whhaachooo!
“The barmaids at the Inn said it looked right proper on me.”
Whhaacchhooo!
“It'll never come clean, I just know it.”
“A clobb.”
“Pardon?”
“I neeb a clobb!”
“Oh, you need a cloth.”
Adam nodded and touched the tip of his nose.
Milward muttered, “You're being snide again...” And handed Adam a cloth for his nose.
Whhoonnnkk!
“You may keep the cloth, my boy. How's the headache now?”
Adam rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “A little better.”
“How about the nausea?”
“It's gone! The leaf worked. In fact, I'm feeling hungry.” Adam looked up at Milward.
The Wizard turned his head at a faint sound. “That's good, because lunch has just arrived.”
* * * *
The Alpha wolf stood under the Pine tree and looked across the clearing at his friend. He appeared much the same as last time, except he now had a cub of his own.
His mate and two other members of the pack stepped down from the slight rise and walked over to where the two legs and his cub stood. They dropped the rabbits they carried at the two legs’ feet and returned to their place behind the pack leader.
* * * *
Milward put a hand on Adam's near shoulder. “Just keep quiet and listen.”
Adam watched as Milward approached the wolf pack. The Wizard knelt in front of the large wolf standing slightly in front of the rest and held out his hands palm up just under the wolf's muzzle. “It has been long since our last meal together, my old friend.”
The wolf sniffed Milward's hands. “I smell you, friend two legs. It has been long. Many hunts have gone by since our last meal together. I have two new cubs.” The wolf added with a touch of pride in his voice.
“So you have.” Milward said with pleasure. The wolf's mouth hung open in his kind's way of grinning.
“May I greet them?” Milward reached a hand toward the cubs. They retreated a little ways behind their mother.
The mother of the cubs nuzzled them forward and admonished them gently to mind their manners. “Our cubs, friend two legs.”
“I smell you, young wolves. May you soon join in the hunt.”
One of the cubs, the male, looked back at his mother. “Is he pack, mother?”
The father laughed a wolf laugh. “He is as much a wolf as a two legs can be cub. This is the two legs you have told stories of.”
The cub looked at Milward with something akin to awe. “You are that two legs?”
Milward stood. “Yes, cub. I am that two legs.”
The cub moved backwards until he was next to his sister and they had a whispered conversation with many glances in the Wizard's direction.
Milward indicated Adam with a turn of his head. “I have a cub myself.”
The male wolf looked in Adam's direction. “Do you now have a mate?”
Milward shook his head. “No. He is foundling.”
The male wolf hung his head. His mate nuzzled him in the rough fur of his neck. “Sadness. The cub is lucky you found him. Can he hunt?”
Milward looked back at Adam. “He has much to learn and much to do, but he can hunt. He may one day become the pack's greatest friend.”
* * * *
Adam felt the snowflake land on his nose. He looked up into the gray sky. The clouds had been there for nearly a week, and now, finally, it was beginning to snow.
“Winter is finally here my boy.” Milward approached him with one of the wolves right behind him.
“I smell you, bright eye.” The wolf greeted Adam. Bright eye was what they chose to call him, despite the fact that wolves tended to avoid naming things.
“I smell you, wolf friend.” Adam returned the greeting. This wolf had been the Omega wolf when he and Milward first met the pack in the grotto. The Omega wolf was the lowest ranking member of a pack. The last to share in the fruit of the hunt and the butt of any other wolf's bad temper with no recourse allowed. He and Adam had become friends at first sight and consequently the wolf's ranking had skyrocketed due to Adam's association with the Wizard. This left the pack without an Omega wolf, which caused some consternation among the wolves for a while until the typical lupine fatalism settled in and the matter was forgotten. “What news of the hunt?”
The wolf opened his mouth in a wolf grin. “We have a stag, bright eye and four rabbits. The rule of three does its work.”
Adam turned to Milward. “There it is again, this rule of three. What does it mean?”
Milward turned to the wolf. “Bright eye needs to learn of the rule of three. I will be speaking to him for a time in the language of two legs.”
The wolf looked at Adam, then back at Milward. “I will rest, then. Good hunting, two legs. Good hunting, bright eye.”
“Good hunting, wolf.”
Adam opened his mouth in a wolf grin. “Good hunting, wolf friend.”
The wolf turned and walked back into the pines of the grotto, vanishing within the trees.
Adam said to Milward. “They never look back.”
The wizard leaned on his staff. “Why should they, they've already been there.”
“Good point.”
Milward chuckled.
Adam looked at him.” What was funny?”
“You. You're becoming more wolf than boy. I shouldn't be surprised to see you joining in one of the hunts soon.”
“I hope so. But I think I need to learn more before they'll let me.”
Milward looked at Adam in amazement. The lad really meant it! Well, there was nothing for it but to begin the teaching. He motioned for Adam to sit. “The rule of three,” He began. “Is the root philosophy of nearly all the peoples of this world. It will take you your lifetime to begin to understand its ramifications entirely, but at least we can get you started on the basics.
“The rule of three deals with the three forces or elements found in nat
ure: Water, earth and air. To the wolf, the rule of three guides the hunt. As the three elements work together, so does the pack.” He knelt and sketched in the gathering snow on the grotto floor. His breath showed in the cooling air as puffs of steam. “As the earth is the foundation, the main body of the hunt moves in a line, thusly. Water moves and flows, and so do the outlying pack members, like this. Air is all around us. With it we live, without it, we die. Likewise with the pack; with food, they live. Without it they die.”
“That's it? I thought it was something much deeper, more profound.” Adam looked at Milward's sketches in the snow. “Why didn't Uncle Bal and Aunt Doreen tell us about this?”
“As to your Aunt and Uncle, they were most likely following orders and keeping you from standing out too much against the background you were being raised in. The folk of that part of the world have little use for philosophy.
“As for the rule being profound, it is.” The wizard straightened and leaned again on his staff. “As I told you, that was just the basics. If you wish to delve deeper into the philosophy, you need to first open your eyes to the world around you. See how nature works within itself; the Rule of Three is found within that working.” He stooped and picked up a pebble. “Remember when I asked you what held the stuff of a pebble together?”
“Yes. And I remember you telling me you didn't know.”
Milward nodded. “Yes, yes, I did. And I still don't. But that doesn't mean I couldn't find out! Observation, that is the foundation upon which all knowledge rests. Never be stupid or stubborn enough to disbelieve what your senses tell you is true. Even if it's contrary to what you already believe. And by your senses, I mean more than just your eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and skin. You, as a wizard have senses beyond the ordinary five, and you need to learn to trust them as much, not more than the others.”
“Why?”
“Because they can lie to you just like the others.”
“Then how can I know what is true?”
“You check one against the other. Also, you must learn to develop a sense of when you're being lied to. It usually takes a while for both a wizard and an ordinary man to learn the difference. It did for me.” But it will probably take you less than a fortnight. He thought.
“I see. Then ... the path of blood the wolves speak about, it is also based on the rule of three?”
“I suppose. I suppose. It's a concept that has mostly eluded me.” Milward fingered his staff. “I believe one has to be a wolf to fully understand it.”
“I think it has to do with smells.” Adam murmured.
“What?” Milward looked at Adam sharply.
“I said, I think it has to do with smells. The wolves talk of smells like they're paintings in the air that show the history of what passed before. I think the path of blood is like that. It's a way of teaching the smells of the hunt to the young wolves.”
Milward rubbed his chin. “Could be ... by Bardoc's bristling beard, I believe you're right! My boy, you've just taught your teacher a lesson, and opened his eyes to the solution of a nagging concern.”
“What is it?”
Milward pulled out the parchment Adam had given him and raised his head. The howl he let loose was a reasonable facsimile of a wolf's.
In answer to Milward's howl, the pack appeared at the edge of the trees. The Alpha wolf walked up to the Wizard. “I smell you friend two legs, but I smell no danger. Why do you call?”
Milward held the parchment out before the wolf. “Can you show me the path of blood on this parchment, friend wolf?”
The wolf sniffed the parchment and then curled his lips back as he savored the scent hidden in the writing. “The blood of a man, friend two legs. A man of ancient, noble birth, sick from the poison of the bad ones.” The wolf looked Milward in the eyes. “What is this old blood to you, my friend? Will it help you in your hunt?”
Milward folded the parchment gently and put it back inside his robe. “Yes, it will my friend. I thank you.”
The wolf grinned a wolf grin and then looked at Adam. “This one is nearly ready for the hunt. Isn't he?” He kept his gaze on Adam for a moment and then turned and walked back into the forest.
Milward looked back at Adam, who shrugged. He chuckled and put his arm around his young pupil's shoulders. “Come on. Let's go back to the hut. It's getting cold.”
Chapter Twenty
“The cold ends, the new life comes.” The wolf walked up to stand at Adam's side, enjoying the scent of the flowers growing in the grotto.
“I smell you, packmate.” Adam dropped his hand to receive a lick from his four-legged friend.
“You will be leaving soon with the old one.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes.”
“I will miss our hunts together.” The wolf's tail wagged at the memory.
“As will I.” Adam had become adept at following a spoor and at flushing out game for his hunting partner. “The rule of three is a good teacher.”
“When one is wolf enough to learn.” The word Adam translated as wolf actually meant The One's That Hunt. “Good hunting, my friend.”
“Good hunting.” Adam felt a thickness in his throat. The wolf turned and soon vanished in the pines.
He heard a rustle to his left and turned to see who or what was approaching. The mass of white hair pushing through the brush told him it was Milward.
He pushed his way past the Huckleberry bush and left the trees to stand next to Adam. “Aren't the flowers bright this morning?”
Adam stood there, waiting.
Milward rested both of his hands on the top of his staff and sniffed the air. “Smells like a good day to travel.”
“I suppose so.”
“What's bothering you, boy?” Milward look at him sharply.
“I can't help feeling we should have left earlier, and I also wish I could stay.”
“Ah, conflicted.” Milward shifted his hold on his staff and looked across the grotto. Some yellow and white butterflies fluttered from flower to flower. He lowered his chin to his chest as if in thought, and then nodded.
“Adam.”
“Yeah?”
“I've something to confess and I want you to try to understand my reasoning for what I've done.” He shifted as though uncomfortable.
Adam felt the familiar chill again. “Ok, go ahead.”
“I know why you feel we should have left earlier. You want to be looking for your sister. The bond between twins can be even stronger than that between a man and his wife.” He paused.
“Go on.”
“I ... know she is alive.”
“So do I, Milward.”
“No. I actually do know she is alive.”
Adam whirled to face the Wizard. “How!? And why keep it from me? Do you know where she is?”
Milward waved a hand. “All perfectly reasonable and understandable questions. As to how, I placed a small shaping on each of you when you first stayed with me. If either of you were to be gravely injured, in danger, or killed, I would know of it. You are both very special to me, you know.
“As to why I kept it from you, I have no good explanation. I wanted you to find out how to create the bond yourself, but primarily I'd forgotten about it; it had become as much a part of me as my aches in the morning.”
“As to where she is? She's in the world, I can tell you that, but I cannot be any more specific.”
“Why?”
“I just can't!” Milward slammed the point of his staff into the ground. “I can't. And I don't know why!”
Adam was nonplused. His anger at Milward suddenly had nowhere to go. The Wizard seemed more upset about his inability to locate Charity than Adam was upset about his being left out of the loop. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly embarrassed at being witness to Milward's admission of weakness. He busied himself at checking his pack and sword.
Milward composed himself with difficulty and placed a hand on Adam's shoulder. “We'd best be going, lad.”
&n
bsp; “Milward?”
“Yes, Adam?”
“I understand.” He didn't see Milward's smile.
“How far is this Whistle Bridge?” Adam helped Milward up the incline. The weeks of travel were beginning to weary him, and he was anxious to reach the goal.
“Not far.” Milward puffed. The climb had been long and somewhat slippery. “It crosses a chasm deemed by some to be endless in its depth. I don't agree with them.”
“You don't?” Adam reached for the next handhold.
“No, I don't. Everything created has its end as well as its obvious beginning.” Milward held out his hand. “Help me up, lad. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.”
Adam helped him up to the next ledge of the incline. “How far to this chasm, then?”
Milward rubbed dried mud off his robe as he thought. “Ummm, if this is the last rise ... we should see the ravine leading to it by morning.”
“Where do we camp?” Adam looked around them. They stood on a flat section of a path that would have given a goat pause. Steep walls rose on either side of them with nary a hand or toehold to be seen. Spring was still new, so ice glinted here and there in areas where the sun didn't reach. Along the path before them the ground was strewn with pebbles and rocks. Sleeping would be uncomfortable, at best.
Milward rubbed his chin. “If I recall correctly, and I usually do, there's a widening with a nice grassy glen with a few trees there for shelter if it rains. We should be comfortable enough for the night.”
“Good. I hate sleeping wet.”
“Me too, lad; me too.”
The Wizard recalled correctly. The path wound terribly for a while, but it eventually emptied onto a sylvan glen with soft green grass, wildflowers, a small grouping of pines and a brook that filled the glen with its silver song.
“See there, my boy. I told you so.”
Adam left Milward to his gloating and walked over to the brook. He refilled the water skins and then lay down to drink deeply.
“Leave some for me, lad. Drink any more and you'll cause a drought.” The wizard sat on a pine log that had conveniently fallen a number of seasons long gone.
Adam brought the water skins over and sat down on the log. His feet hurt, but there was still the matter of setting up camp.