Promise Of The Wolves (11 page)

The humans were clustered in groups the size of small packs, adults and young together. Their young scrambled around the clearing, yipping and squealing. They ranged in size from the size of a month-old pup to nearly the size of a grown wolf. The smaller ones stumbled awkwardly around the clearing, so much like wolf pups that I felt my tail begin to wag. Most of the adults were larger than grown wolves, the males bigger and more densely furred than the females. Suddenly I felt lonely. As lonely as I had when my mother left.

“No wonder they are taking all the prey in the valley!” Werrna’s voice was harsh with shock. “There have never been so many of them before. They used to honor pack size!”

“They are worse than the Stone Peaks,” Rissa agreed. “They are no longer satisfied with taking food from within their own territories. I think they would walk into our very gathering places without thinking they were doing anything wrong.”

I was stunned. No wolf would ever enter another’s territory without knowing she was courting danger. You do so only if you must and then you are very, very careful. And prepared to fight.

“If their packs get too large, they should send some away, as we do,” Borlla said. Her lip curled in contempt. “They are more like a herd of prey than a pack.”

“They are hunters,” Rissa said. “Never forget that. They are hunters who do not respect the rules of hunt or territory. That is why you must know of them so soon, pups. When I was young, we could fulfill the covenant simply by ignoring them. We stayed out of their way and they out of ours. Now they are everywhere, so you must always be aware of them.”

We watched as a human female nestled in the arms of a male. A small child clung to another female’s neck as she walked about the clearing. I felt a whine rise up in my throat and quickly swallowed it. It didn’t seem right that we couldn’t be with the humans, but after everything Trevegg had said about my mixed blood, I wasn’t going to ask anything about it.

I saw Ázzuen watching me. “But why can’t we be with them even a little?” he asked. “I understand why we can’t spend a lot of time with them or help them, but why can’t we at least go near them?” I wanted to pounce on him in thanks but just gave him a grateful look.

“Once we begin to spend time with them,” Rissa answered, “we don’t want to stop. We want to help them and teach them things, as Indru did. At least,” she said, averting her eyes, “that is what I was told when I was a pup. And also,” she paused as if deciding whether to tell us more, “there is something in the souls of the wolves and humans that cannot live side by side. Most humans fear the wildness that is wolf, because it is something they can’t control. When we spend too much time with them, we either give up our wildness to please them, or we refuse to do so, which makes the humans angry. Or
we
get angry and try to kill them, and then the Greatwolves have to slay an entire pack. That’s why our ancestors promised that wolves of the Wide Valley would completely avoid contact with humans. Except, of course,” she said, a gleam coming into her eyes, “to steal from them when we can!”

Ázzuen’s face had grown thoughtful. “Then, why,” he said, “didn’t the Ancients kill wolves when the youngwolf hunted with the humans—in the legends? Wolves broke Indru’s promise. If it’s that dangerous to be with them, why did the Ancients give us another chance?”

“You should be glad they did,” Werrna rumbled, glaring at Ázzuen. “And it’s not your place to question the legends.”

“But staying away from them doesn’t really work, does it?” Ázzuen insisted, standing suddenly. “If the humans are taking what’s not theirs and not respecting territories. And Sleekwing said they’re driving prey from the valley!”

“Get down, pup!” Rissa snarled. “And keep quiet!”

Ázzuen sat down hard, taken aback by Rissa’s ferocity. He opened his mouth to protest, and Rissa growled at him.

“You were told not to question the legends. Now be quiet or you can go back across the river by yourself.”

Chastened, Ázzuen lowered himself all the way to his belly. I touched my nose to his face, feeling a little guilty that his first question, anyway, had been on my behalf. Then I turned my attention back to the humans.

They did not look dangerous. A small girl curled up at the feet of a male and female pair who seemed to be her parents. She smelled like freshly fallen rain.

Yllin watched two young males scuffling like yearling wolves. “You’ll want to go to them,” she said softly. “You’ll want to touch them, and be near to them, to interact with the humans as you would with each other. But it is your duty as wolf to resist. Duty to pack and the covenant comes before your own desires.”

Rissa dipped her head in approval.

“Won’t they smell us?” Reel asked, backing away a little.

“Their noses are as useless as wings on an auroch,” Werrna sneered. “You could stand right behind one and fart and it wouldn’t smell you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t quite say that,” Rissa said, laughing in spite of herself, “but their noses are much weaker than ours, and they cannot smell us at this distance.”

I thought about that. How could a creature go through life without being able to smell rivals and prey? My own nose was still busily sorting out the scents of their home, worrying over that strange fire-scent. I realized at last what it was. Meat and fire together. Burnt meat. The smell was somehow shocking and wrong, and at the same time irresistible. It drew me in as much as the creatures themselves did. It made me hungry. Hungry for the meat, but also hungry deep within my body for something else.

“How do they live?” I asked, to shake the hunger from me. “How do they hunt if they can’t smell?”

“They live and hunt as we do,” Rissa said. “Their eyes function quite well in the daylight, and they work as a pack. But instead of teeth and claws, they make their tools to kill with. Sharpsticks—a kind of long thorn—and a second stick that they use to throw the first one. They can kill prey from far away. They are fine hunters,” she said a little wistfully.

We settled into silence as we all watched the human home. I understood now why there was such a strong rule against being with them. They were like us in a strange way, even more so than the ravens. They made sounds that sounded like language, and their body language was as clear as any wolf’s. Their young crouched and played much like we did. I could tell that a tall, well-muscled male was leader of the group. He smelled of power, and skinny, rangy youngsters tried to win his approval. I couldn’t imagine how he kept order of such a large pack, but I was enthralled.

The air around me grew suddenly warm, and I felt another wolf beside me. Her smell was familiar, but she was not of my pack. I was surprised that a strange wolf would join us without greeting Rissa, and without being investigated by my packmates. I turned my head, and saw a young shewolf, about Yllin’s age, looking with longing at the humans. I did not want to disturb her, but she looked so sad that I nudged her with my nose.

The strange wolf turned her head, and when I saw the white crescent of fur on her chest, I knew why she was so familiar. She was the wolf who had come to me when I was desperate on the Great Plain, the wolf I thought I had made up out of my exhaustion and despair. She looked ordinary enough. She was a smallish wolf, light brown and a little thin. But her scent was the one I had followed across the plain to my pack, the scent that had saved my life and Ázzuen’s. And suddenly I realized that the acrid part of her scent was similar to the fire-rock-meat scent of the human camp. The strange wolf smelled of humans.

“You have grown well, little Smallteeth,” she said, touching her nose to the white crescent on my chest. “You will not be a pup much longer. Tell me, how are things with the Swift River pack?”

The wolf’s human-scent continued to confuse me. “Are you part of the human pack?” I asked her.

“Not quite,” she answered. She took another longing look at the human homesite and yet another at Rissa and the pups. I couldn’t believe that my packmates neither greeted nor challenged the newcomer.

“What is your pack, then?” I asked.

“Why, I am Swift River, little one. That and more. Your pack is my pack.”

Now I was truly puzzled. I’d heard that some of last year’s pups, Yllin and Minn’s littermates, had left the pack seeking mates, and might return for the winter travels. But surely such a returning wolf would greet Rissa immediately. I wanted to ask her more about herself, but didn’t, realizing that if she had left the pack in disgrace, she might not want to talk about it. Still, if that were the case, I wondered, why did Rissa let her lie next to us?

I was staring at the strange wolf in confusion, and she laughed at me.

“You are supposed to be watching the humans, little one, not me. Watch them. You, more than any other wolf of the Wide Valley, must know them.”

“Why?” I asked, surprised.

“I started a journey that you must complete, daughter-wolf.”

A deep and distant howl startled us both. The young wolf pricked up her ears.

“I must leave now, sisterwolf. Take care of my packmates.” She looked again at the humans. “All of my packmates.” She touched her nose to the crescent on my chest once again, and slipped away into the forest. I shivered a little as the air around me cooled.

I stood, meaning to follow the strange wolf. The moon shape on my chest was still warm from her touch, and I wanted to ask her what she meant about taking care of her packmates. Then something began to draw me toward the human camp, so strongly I could not resist. I took a step down the hill.

“Lie down!” Werrna snarled. My legs shook and my head whirled. My chest began to burn like the very fires the humans kept, and I felt as if an invisible vine had wrapped itself around my heart, and now pulled me over to the human homesite. Everything in the human gathering place was sharper, clearer. Their words no longer seemed like meaningless gabble, but were instead as clear as the words of a wolf. I watched a human child nuzzle in her parent’s arms, and wanted those arms around me. I wanted the firemeat in my mouth, the warmth of the fire on my fur. The pull I had felt before was increased tenfold, and I could not fight it.

I took another step, and then a third, and then scrambled quickly down the hill. Suddenly, a hard shoulder and chest slammed into me, crushing me. I could not hold back a yelp as Werrna jumped on me, pinning me to the ground.

“Be quiet, idiot pup,” Werrna hissed. “Do you want every creature in the forest to know we are here?”

Still I tried to get to the humans, scrabbling my legs under Werrna’s strong body. It hurt when she stopped me. The ache in my chest had lessened as I moved to the humans, and it intensified when I could not go to them. I kept fighting Werrna. My desire to reach the humans was greater than my fear of trouble or pain. Finally, she bit me hard on the shoulder, and the hold the human-scent had on me loosened. I remembered that I was wolf, and Swift River. I allowed myself to be dragged up the hill to where Rissa was waiting angrily. Ázzuen and Marra watched me, eyes wide. Even Unnan and Borlla were too surprised to speak.

“What in the name of the moon were you thinking?” Rissa demanded. “How dare you go to the humans after everything you’ve been told?”

I couldn’t find an answer. I couldn’t tell her about a wolf that may or may not be real. I couldn’t tell her how drawn I felt to the humans, how I felt I was one of them. Rissa would think I was crazy, or that I would follow the humans and have to be banished from the pack. Just thinking about the humans made me feel I was falling off a cliff, tumbling uncontrollably. I hung my head.

“Answer me! Or I’ll send you back across the river to the plain by yourself.” I’d never seen Rissa so angry with one of us pups. I looked at her in alarm. “Tell me why you disobeyed me!” she demanded.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a whisper. “I felt something pulling me to them.”

Werrna and Rissa exchanged concerned looks and I heard Borlla mutter something about mixed-bloods under her breath. Ázzuen watched me anxiously. I could tell he wanted to come to me, but did not dare. I was grateful for his caring, but annoyed at his fearfulness. I didn’t look at Yllin, didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

“What do you mean?” Rissa asked. “Pulled how?”

“Like I was on fire,” I whispered, “like the only way to stop burning was to go to them. I’m sorry.” I didn’t tell her about the strange wolf. I couldn’t.

“Blood will tell,” Werrna said, looking me up and down. “Only four moons old and already, it’s happening.”

“Oh, be quiet, Werrna,” Rissa said. “It’s nothing but an overly imaginative pup. Plenty of pups try to go to the humans when they first see them. It means nothing.” But she looked at me with concern, and poked the white crescent on my chest with her nose.

“It means nothing—yet,” Werrna said. “Are you going to tell Ruuqo?”

“No,” Rissa answered. She raised her head and met Werrna’s gaze. “And neither are you.”

Werrna hesitated for a moment, then lowered her ears. “If you like,” she said, and turned away to chew at a patch of fur on her leg.

Borlla strutted up to Rissa. “I felt them pull me, too, but I didn’t try to go to them,” she said, her voice filled with spite.

Unnan dipped his head in agreement. “None of the rest of us went. Just Kaala.”

“Quiet, both of you,” Rissa ordered. “And you will not mention this again. Do you hear me? Kaala, you will wait at the bottom of the hill.
Away
from the humans. The rest of us are going to take back some of what the humans stole.”