I spotted Bar winging his way south, toward us and his beloved. I guessed he’d seen the onrushing storm and flew hard to make certain Ly’Tana was safe, as he flew as though hellish daemons gnawed on his tail. He screeched at the top of his lungs long before he reached us, and didn’t cease as he circled over our heads. The mass exodus continued as though a predator Bar’s size was no more dangerous than a fluttering butterfly. Wind from his wings as he banked up and over blew my hair in my mouth. He lined up and shot past us, low overhead, still yelling.
Ly’Tana put her hands over her ears, her face screwed up into an expression of pain and anger. “Shut up!” she cried, shrieking like an outraged alewife. “Shut your bloody beak and get down here so I can slap you.”
Bar didn’t come down to get slapped but he did quiet his bizarre bellowing. He tried to hover, his wings beating hard to keep him airborne as he stood on his tail, his wide raptor eyes staring over his shoulder at the Wrath. Before he could fall out of the sky, he dove out and down, blasting past us to once more bank up and around.
“I know there’s a bleeding storm coming,” Ly’Tana snapped, waving her hands over her head, in irate impatience. “I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?”
I opened my mouth to suggest we cease our cordial chatting and take shelter. Yet, before I could utter a sound, the slight breeze suddenly died. The soft sighing of the forest grew still. I swear the land itself held its breath, as though frozen in time.
I cocked my head, listening hard. In mere seconds, the temperature dropped, giving the once hot air a sudden chill. Gooseflesh rose on my arms and belly. Electricity danced across my skin, stirred the hair on my arms and the nape of my neck. I scented the lightning, a faint metallic taste on my tongue.
The sun, while still shining, had a weak, sickly cast to it. It hadn’t yet reached its zenith and should have shone bright and hot. It’s golden and lively light now held a faintly greenish tinge that made my gut suddenly complete a slow forward roll.
The edges of the inky storm clouds had not yet reached the sun, but the green light had. Lightning still flashed deep within the malevolent storm, vibrating thunder felt more than heard.
“I think we’re in trouble,” I muttered.
“Lady have mercy,” Kel’Ratan murmured.
“Usa’a’mah must be seriously pissed,” Rygel said, his arms crossed over his chest.
Arianne crept, silent and frightened, from the shelter of the stone building to nudge her way under my left arm. I hugged her close, drawing as much comfort from her presence as I offered to her. Tor followed at her heels to push his way between Ly’Tana and myself, his former warrior fearlessness forgotten. He separated us to cling, shivering, to my hip. I dropped my now free right hand to his neck in an attempt to reassure, to soothe.
“Holy crow,” Witraz commented from my shoulder.
A half-glance around found Alun and Rannon also stood in the courtyard, watching the divine spectacle approach. Alun stroked his mustache thoughtfully, his bow in his left hand. Rannon scowled at the sight as though the storm annoyed him.
Like a feathered river, birds parted around Bar’s massive wings and flew on. A mother bear and her young cub hurried past in a rolling lope. She growled a deep-throated rumble, her head swiveling toward us. But as we posed no threat to her offspring, she ran on and vanished. A large herd of deer bounded into the clearing in front of the monastery, another buck and his fat harem.
“Ly’Tana.”
I spoke without thinking. Whether she read my mind, or knew the instant I spoke her name what I wanted, I’ll never know. She drew an arrow, nocked it, and sent it winging into the side of the bounding buck all faster than the eye could blink. The buck, caught in mid-leap, tumbled white tail over antlers into a spectacular heap at the foot of the rock wall, dead before his legs stopped twitching.
Other bowstrings twanged, bringing down three plump does in mid-flight. They fell in a tangle of hooves and thrashing bodies, bleating in terror before collapsing to the ground. Red soaked their light brown coats.
Rygel’s hand whipped up and forward. His shiny dagger struck a young buck with small prongs for antlers, buried to the hilt between his ribs behind his shoulder. The buck stopped, eyes and mouth wide. He tried to stagger forward, but instead fell on his face, his tail high and toppling over his ears.
The rest vanished into the woods.
“I am impressed,” Ly’Tana said, lowering her hand from her bow.
“Me too,” Kel’Ratan added, his tone hushed. “I’d have never thought—”
“Thanks,” Rygel replied smugly.
I sighed and Arianne rolled her eyes.
On the heels of the deer, a family of wild pigs, led by a hoary old boar with huge curling tusks, ran with all speed on stunted legs toward safety. They galloped past the dead deer while paying the scent of blood as much heed as they paid us.
Another bow whispered softly. A young sow squealed and fell, kicking, to die beside Ly’Tana’s buck on the green grass.
As one, me, Rygel, Ly’Tana, Kel’Ratan, Corwyn, Arianne, Rannon, Alun and Tor turned to stare at the one-eyed Witraz, his hand still on his bowstring.
Lowering his bow under the interested stares of everyone present, Witraz returned our gapes with a faint smile, his equanimity unscathed. He slowly shrugged. “I like pork.”
Dissolving into helpless, nearly hysterical giggles, Ly’Tana clapped her hands. “Start butchering,” she ordered, her voice high and strained. “Keep a haunch back for Bar. Let’s move!”
The warriors, hanging weapons from shoulders, drew knives from their belts. Light chatter and grins covered the tension as they yanked arrows from corpses and cut throats. Alun tugged the knife from the young buck and tossed it to Rygel. Catching it easily by the hilt, Rygel cleaned it as best he could on the grass before sheathing it.
As the blood soaked the ground, the mass exodus from the forest continued. The warriors largely ignored the many deer, bears, rabbits, foxes, hares and many others fleeing across the open ground before the Jefe monastery.
The local wildlife also paid scant attention to the activity, save to give the humans and slain deer a wider berth. As though the dead animals and live humans were but an obstacle to go around, the forest’s inhabitants fled something more dangerous than us.
One by one, the Kel’Hallans took hold of the bloody carcasses to carry them inside. Witraz seized his pig and tossed it effortlessly across his wide shoulders, oblivious to the porcine blood that oozed down the back of his tunic.
“There’s a chamber off the kitchen,” Ly’Tana said. “Hang them there. Set aside some meat for today’s meal, roast the rest for travelling. We’ll need it when we head home. Cure the hides, too. We may need them as well. Tor, you help.”
She pushed a resisting Tor toward the doorway. He went, reluctant, his eyes still wide and fearful as he gazed at the inky storm that crept closer to the sun during the slaughter. His unwilling walk turned into a frantic run as he fled for the safety of the stone walls and stout roof. That left only me, Ly’Tana, Rygel, Kel’Ratan, Arianne and Corwyn to witness the next group to flee Usa’a’mah’s wrath.
A pack of wolves emerged from the woods as the last warrior trudged inside with his burden. Accustomed as we were to the forest creatures fleeing for their lives, the five of us paid scant attention to wolves added to the mix. I eyed them curiously, half-interested, but turned away to enter the monastery and lend my assistance to the work inside. Something about them made me pause and I glanced back, over my shoulder.
A small pack, I noticed, yet the leading wolves themselves were huge. Rivaling ponies in size, a grey male with white on his breast, face and paws trotted across the green, his family at his heels. His slightly smaller mate, a she-wolf that topped perhaps three hundred pounds, owned lighter-colored silver fur and patches of white running through it like foam on a river. Their pack held only two older females and three half-grown pups, most owning the grey and white silvery coats
of their parents.
At first, they ignored our presence as less significant or dangerous as the coming storm. Loping past, the alpha male glanced toward us briefly, like me, his demeanor only half-interested.
Suddenly, he skidded to a halt in the grass and dead leaves, his mate outrunning him by several strides before she, too, paused, mid-lope, to stare. His youthful daughter galloped headlong into his tail before sliding to a stop behind him. She looked up, sat down hard. The others slowed their gait, paused, and sagged to the ground, tongues hanging loose from their parted jaws.
At first approach, they had all been panting in fear and exertion, fleeing the tempest to the west in search of safety. The huge leader snapped his jaws closed, and with his ears at full attention, stared with sharply intelligent amber-brown eyes. His family also ceased to blow, and gaped, jaws wide and ears perked, in wolfish fashion.
At first, I thought they simply stared at the unfamiliar small cluster of humans in front of the stone building, predatory humans occupying their private domain. Perhaps they thought us interlopers, rivals hunting the same game as they. I half-thought they paused to challenge us, drive us out of their hunting grounds—no, that wasn’t right.
They stared not at all of us, I suddenly realized with a sharp jolt.
They stared at only me.
When the big male halted, I, too, ceased walking and turned back. Ly’Tana glanced up curiously. Her eyes followed mine. Arianne, still clinging to my waist, brushed her thick midnight hair from her face to watch the silent, frozen, staring wolf family. I heard Kel’Ratan’s grunt of surprise from somewhere behind me.
The big grey male took a few steps toward me, his eyes on mine. I felt no alarm, no fear of imminent attack, no concern for the safety of my sister or Ly’Tana. My instinct for danger sat quiet, quiescent, unperturbed.
While I felt little save curiosity, the only emotions I felt came from the wolves themselves. Oddly, they came at me from without, from beyond my own senses. All right, that’s really weird, but hey—maybe they’re as intelligent as they seem.
Puzzled, I opened my mind, questing, seeking—
Instantly, a flood of feelings, memories of memories, poured into my mind, into my very soul. The sound of wolves howling, singing, crying their longing to the full moon above filled my ears. They sought the one, their chosen leader, calling to him over the centuries. Me. Their songs called to me and me alone.
One of the pack, the leader, the one to whom they owed their loyalty. I belonged to them and they belonged to me. Brothers. An image flashed into my mind, an image of a huge black wolf with strange grey eyes loping across a green sward. The picture, there and gone so quickly I believed I imagined it, felt like the ghostly ghost of a memory. My gut lurched for an instant, a flash of a hunger for something I could not yet wholly comprehend.
What the hell?
A flurry of emotions, erratic thoughts, hit me broadside from without. The feelings struck not from my human companions but from the wolves. I staggered under the impact, shuddering, my hands halfway to my head before I commanded they cease. Emotions? What—
I felt the big grey’s surprise, delight, and love. Love? He loved me? How is this possible? I shut my eyes and opened my mind—
Fear. Love. Hope. Excitement. Longing. This time I failed to stop my hands from reaching my face, trying to halt the flood into my brain. My fingers dug into my skin as my head spun as though having been hit with a halberd, my own fear rising. This isn’t right, I babbled deep inside. This is sooo wrong, it’s wrong. What’s wrong? This is—it’s—
I felt Ly’Tana’s hand on my arm, her flesh hot on mine, her soft voice asking me something my ears failed to translate. All I heard were the wolves’ voices, crying out to me—save them!
Gods above and below, I thought, panicked. Where in the hell did these feelings, these voices, come from?
“Wolf, uh, Ra—?”
Ly’Tana’s voice, soft, questing, tore through the sounds of wolves yammering for their savior. Like a knife cutting through soft butter, her presence sheltered me from their greed. She separated me from them, just as a wolf culled the weak, the sick, the old from the herd. Panting, seeking solace in her, I shut out the voices and focused sharply, hungrily, on only hers. I glanced up, sweating, swallowing convulsively, forcing my hands down from my face to my sides. Ly’Tana’s hand released me, yet hovered close, somewhere near my ribcage.
Despite the close proximity of a pack of predators, prey creatures ignored the wolves as much as they ignored us humans. A stag jumped one of the pups on the ground with no more heed than he’d pay to a fallen tree. Nearly on his heels, a dark grey fox, running fast, dodged wolf bodies in quick, sharp jumps around them to vanish into the forest. More deer flowed around the pack, parting like a river around a boulder amid the stream. A second family of wild pigs followed the first, passing the halted pack with scarcely a glance in their direction. Despite the wolves’ hesitation, the furry exodus from the vicinity continued on.
Surprisingly, none of the humans save Ly’Tana witnessed my confusion, my panic. Their eyes stared at the very strange wolfish behavior spread out before them. I suspected Kel’Ratan, at least, may have hunted wolves in his lifetime. Corwyn, also in his younger days before arriving in Khalid, may have hung a trophy wolf or two on his wall. Even Arianne’s eyes were glued to the scene in front of her. As though thirsting for a drink only the wolves could provide.
Of Rygel, I heard and felt nothing at all.
The grey wolf spread his jaws in a lupine grin, his tail waving the air. Wagging. When the wolf wagged his tail, his entire rear end waggled back and forth with the force of his joy. He posed an absolute picture of wolfish happiness and pleasure.
Ly’Tana failed to understand his language. Before I could blink, or move to stop her, she nocked another arrow and drew her string to her ear. The arrow’s deadly steel head pointed directly at the big grey’s chest.
The leader’s tail ceased its wag, and his happy grin vanished. His pink tongue caught between his teeth as his jaws shut down tight. Wrenching his light brown eyes from me to Ly’Tana, his body stiffened and hackles rose between his shoulders. I sensed, felt, no heard, the wolf’s sudden anger. Without knowing why, I knew Ly’Tana made a terrible mistake.
Before I could move to prevent Ly’Tana from shooting the wolf, Arianne plunged from my side. She ran toward the pack leader, her skirts hiked above her knees. How could a tiny half-starved girl run so fast?
The big male made no movement, either to run away from the approaching human or attack in self-defense. He paid Arianne as much heed as he paid to the fox, and stared past her to the human threat to his family: his mate and his offspring. His huge body stood forth, sheltering them behind him, prepared to fight or go down protecting them from the hated human predator with his life.
Arianne stopped a few small feet from him to whirl about, to stand between the well-armed and ready warrior, and the wolf. Like the grey male seeking to protect his family with his body, Arianne sought to protect him from Ly’Tana in the same way. It hardly mattered to her that Ly’Tana could shoot him between his eyes, her arrow whisking over her own dark head.
She stood so close to him, the great wolf peeked over her blue shoulder to continue his icy regard of Ly’Tana. Her arms spread wide, she sheltered the huge wolf behind her, protecting him from the impending arrow.
A low rumbling growl quivered on the air. His ears flattened, his hackles ridging his shoulders and back. His mate stalked forward to stand beside him, ready to kill or be killed in protecting her young, her own snarl ripping from her throat. If Ly’Tana shot one, the other would have her blood before she could nock another arrow.
The smallest of us saved all from certain ruin.
Her magnificent grey-blue eyes running with tears, her wild hair swirling about her, Arianne raised both hands, palms outward, toward Ly’Tana.
“No,” she cried. “Put up your weapon.”
Instantly,
Ly’Tana lowered her bow, though her arrow still lay nocked within the bowstring.
Her tears drying on her cheeks, Arianne smiled tremulously, and slowly raised her hands to rest on two heads, stilling both wolves instantly. They quieted, calmed, ears rising at the same time hackles smoothed down and merged with silver and grey fur. Lips that once bared white fangs were licked by pink tongues. Heavy tails waved the air once more, though the big male growled what sounded like curses under his breath.
Standing, the grey wolf cast Arianne into deep shadow. He could kill her with a swift, effortless, slice to her throat, yet she stood between the wild creatures with the same confidence I owned when I walked into the arena. His mate eyed Ly’Tana sidelong before turning her graceful head to watch her sons and daughters relax behind their parents. Arianne stood smaller than the weakest pup between two wolves who might slay her like the rabbit she was.
Yet, I felt no concern toward my sister’s safety.
Behind me, I heard Corwyn grumble the beginning of a protest, heard his step forward, felt his rising alarm. Without looking back, I flicked my hand. He ceased instantly, and waited, as did we all, to see what princess and wolf would do.
However late, I stepped forward to help protect the grey leader and his family. I stood between them, the fierce warrior princess and the strange wolf with whom I felt a very odd kinship. Like my sister, I put my body between her weapons and their lives. I smiled down at her, my finger under her chin lifted her beautiful exotic face upward.
Reluctant to cease her stare at the wolf’s savage figure and his fearless mate, she finally answered my finger. Her fair lips quirked in rueful amusement. All right, her eyes said. I’ll trust you. This time.
I lay my arm across her shoulders. “They mean us no harm,” I murmured, my lips against her sweet-smelling hair.
“You better be right,” she muttered. “Or you’re a sister short.”
“She said the wolves love her,” I said. I quirked my brow as I glanced down. I tossed my chin toward my sister and her friends. “I think that’s your living proof.”
Catch a Wolf Page 6