Promise Of The Wolves (3 page)

The Greatwolves graciously accepted the greetings of the smaller wolves.

“Lordwolves, welcome.” Ruuqo spoke respectfully with his head down. “I do what I have to do. I did not authorize this litter and I must care for my pack.”

“Second litters often are allowed to live.” Jandru bent his head to nuzzle Triell’s still form. “As you well know, Ruuqo. It was only four years ago that you and your littermates were spared. A long time for you, perhaps, but not for me.”

“That was a time of plenty, Lordwolf.”

“One pup does not eat so very much. I would have her live.”

Ruuqo did not speak for a moment, unwilling to risk Jandru’s anger.

“There is more, Lordwolf,” Rissa said, stepping forward. “The pup is of Outsider blood. We cannot break the rules of the valley.”

“Of Outsider blood?” There was no longer any trace of laughter in Jandru’s voice. He glared at Ruuqo. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Ruuqo lowered his head even farther. “I didn’t want you to think I had so little control of my pack.”

Jandru watched him a long time without speaking and then turned to my mother, speaking to her in real anger. “What were you thinking, risking the safety of your pack?”

Frandra, the female Greatwolf, spoke for the first time. She stood even taller than her mate, and her voice was strong and sure. Her eyes shone from her dark fur. She spoke so loudly and startled me so much that I leapt back, falling on my backside.

“Easy for you to say, Jandru, when you can breed wherever and whenever you please without consequence. She did not conceive alone.” Jandru looked abashed and lowered his ears just the slightest bit. Frandra watched him for a moment and turned her great head to my mother. “But why did you allow them to live long enough to call themselves wolf? You must have known they could not live. You should have killed them when you bore them.”

“I wanted them to be pack. I thought they would be important.” My mother’s voice was soft and frightened. “I dreamed they would save wolfkind. In some dreams, they stopped the prey from leaving the valley. In other dreams, they drove the humans away. Always they saved us. See how fearless she is?”

I stood again, and tried to still the trembling in my legs, to look like a wolf worthy of pack.

“Lordwolves, my sister has always wished to have a greater role in the pack,” Rissa said. “Sometimes her dreams have led us to good hunting, but she’s always wanted pups.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jandru said abruptly. “The pup’s of Outsider blood and cannot live. Do what you must, Ruuqo.”

Jandru turned away, almost stepping on me, so I growled at him, too. “I am sorry, Smallteeth,” he said. “I would save you, but cannot go against the covenant. May you return to the Wide Valley again.”

I felt the unfairness of it like the cold, damp wind that seeped sometimes into my mother’s den. How could a creature be so great and not be able to do what he wished? I began to look again around the clearing, searching for a place to hide. I turned to run. Frandra stepped over me, placing her own body between me and Ruuqo’s sharp teeth.

She growled.

“I will not let you kill this pup,” she said. “So what if it is not what we usually do! Things are changing, Lifemate, and we must change with them. The humans are taking more prey than ever before, and each day they grow more out of control. The Balance has already been upset and we can wait no longer to take action. We must change and change now.” The Greatwolf looked down at me. “If she’s of the blood, so be it. Letting this fierce one live may have consequences, but it may also be our hope. The will to live is too strong to ignore. We must listen to the messages the Ancients send to us.”

“Frandra,” Jandru began.

“Have you lost use of your nose
and
ears, Jandru?” she snapped. “You know we are almost out of time. And we are failing.”

“I won’t take the risk,” he said. “We did not give permission for this exception and we cannot go against the Greatwolf council. That is my decision.”

“The decision is not yours alone.” Frandra met his eyes steadily. “Do you want to fight me? Come, fight me if you will.”

Jandru stood still as death for the briefest moment. Frandra spoke again.

“Look at her chest, Lifemate,” she whispered softly, urgently, so that only Jandru, my mother, and I could hear her. “She bears the mark of the moon, the mark of the Balance. The council is rigid, and they do not always see what is before them. What if she is the one? Maybe the Ancients have chosen this one for us.”

“I have named her Kaala, daughter of the Moon,” my mother said.

Jandru looked at me a long time. He flipped me over onto my back to better see the moon shape on my chest. As he held me there with a paw nearly as big as my body, I tried to think of something, anything, I could do to convince him I deserved to live. But I could only stare into his strange eyes as he decided my fate. Finally, he stepped away from me and bowed to Frandra.

“Give her the chance,” he said to Ruuqo. “If it’s a mistake, the Greatwolves will bear the burden.”

“But Lordwolves,” Ruuqo began.

“You are not to kill this pup, smallwolf.” Frandra towered over him. “The Greatwolves make the rules of the valley, and we may grant exceptions as we so choose. We have good reason for sparing this pup.”

When Ruuqo tried to speak again, the Greatwolf growled and, placing both her front legs on his back, forced him to the ground. When she released him, he scrambled to his feet and bent his head in submission, but resentment burned in his eyes. Frandra ignored his anger.

“Good fortune, Kaala Smallteeth.” Frandra opened her great jaws in a smile as she shouldered Jandru aside and trotted into the woods. “I will certainly see you again.” Jandru followed behind her.

As the Greatwolves left the clearing, my mother whispered urgently to me. “Listen, Kaala. Listen carefully. Ruuqo will not let me stay with the pack. I am certain of it. But you must stay, and you must live. You must do whatever you have to do to survive, and become part of the pack. Then, when you are grown and accepted into the pack you must come find me. There are things you must know about your father and about me. Do you promise me that?”

Her eyes held mine and I couldn’t refuse her.

“I promise,” I whispered. “But I want to go with you.”

“No,” she said. She pressed the soft fur of her muzzle to my face. I inhaled her scent. “You must stay and become part of the pack. Do not come for me until then. You have promised.”

I wanted to ask her why. I wanted to ask her how I would find her, but I didn’t get the chance. As soon as the Greatwolves were out of hearing range, Ruuqo turned on my mother and bit her savagely on the neck, drawing blood and making her yelp. He knocked her to the ground and as she fell, she shoved me out of the way with her hip. I stumbled backward, landing on my back. I staggered to my feet.

“You have brought chaos to your pack, my children, and me,” Ruuqo snarled, “and forced the Swift River pack into conflict with the Balance.”

Wolves do not normally hurt each other when they fight, since most wolves know their place in the pack and avoid conflict. But Ruuqo could not take out his frustration on me, and he certainly could not fight the Greatwolves. So he turned instead on my mother. She tried to fight back, but when Minn, a yearling male, and Werrna, the big, scar-faced female, attacked her, too, she whimpered and scrambled to the edge of the clearing. When she tried to come back to the rest of the pack, they attacked again, driving her away. I wanted to run back to my mother, to help her, but my courage had deserted me and I could only watch in terror.

Rissa took the closest pup, Reel, in her mouth and ran back into her den.

“Let me stay long enough to wean her, brother,” my mother said desperately. “Then I will leave.”

“You’ll leave now,” he said. “You are no longer pack.” He chased her to the edge of the clearing and each time she tried to come back, he and the other two wolves attacked her again. At last, bleeding and whimpering, she darted into the forest, her three attackers chasing her away.

When he returned, Ruuqo gave a commanding bark, and he and all the rest of the adult wolves except Rissa quit the clearing. They had only a few hours before the hot sun would make hunting impossible and Ruuqo had a pack to feed.

I wanted to follow my mother into the woods, but I was exhausted in body and soul and sank to the hard ground, cold even in the warmth of the morning sun.

Two of Rissa’s largest pups, the ones named Unnan and Borlla, swaggered to where I sat and looked me up and down. Borlla, the bigger of the two, poked me painfully in the ribs with her muzzle.

“Doesn’t look like it’ll live long,” she said to Unnan.

“Looks like bear food to me,” he said.

“Hey, Bear Food,” Borlla said. “Better stay away from our milk.”

“Or we’ll finish what Ruuqo started.” Unnan’s mean little eyes swept over me.

The two pups trotted toward the entrance of the den into which Rissa had disappeared earlier. On their way, Borlla swatted the smallest pup of the litter, the raggedy male who had not been given a name, and Unnan growled at Marra, another smallpup, and tumbled her into the dirt. Satisfied, they lifted their tails high and strutted into the den. After a moment Marra got up and followed, but the smallest pup stayed crouched where he had fallen.

I stayed alone in the clearing, waiting for my mother all that day, even as the sun grew hot and oppressive. I thought if I just waited long enough she would return for me, take me with her in her exile.

My mother did not return for the rest of the long day, or into the night, though I waited until the pack returned for their afternoon slumber and left again for the evening hunt, until the terrifying sounds of unknown creatures made me fear for my life once again. Still she did not come back. I was alive, but I was alone, frightened, and despised by the pack that was supposed to care for me.

I
would not return to my mother’s den, for it smelled of my dead littermates and meant only loneliness. But I did smell milk and warm bodies, and heard the unmistakable sounds of suckling. Hunger pierced the numbness that kept me huddled in the dirt. A part of me wondered how I could think about food when my mother was gone forever, but I couldn’t see the point of standing up against Ruuqo only to die of hunger mere wolflengths from Rissa’s warm milk. I didn’t know if she would feed me, but I was her sister’s pup and shared her blood. I had to try. I hadn’t forgotten Borlla’s and Unnan’s threats, but the pull of hunger was stronger than my fear. I turned my back on the bodies of my littermates and crept toward the good smells and sounds coming from Rissa’s den. I stopped when I saw the raggedy pup hunched miserably at the edge of the den.

“You’ll starve if you just stay out here.” He looked up at me when I spoke, but didn’t answer. He had a cut over his right eye where Borlla had swatted him, and his matted dark gray coat made him look even smaller than he was. But he had bright, silvery eyes. It was those unusual eyes, so like Triell’s, that stopped me and kept me from ignoring him on my way to my meal.

“Littlewolf,” I said, using the endearment our mother used for us, “if you let them bully you, you’ll always be a curl-tail.” Most packs have a curl-tail, a wolf who is picked on, one who doesn’t get as much to eat and is kept at the fringes of the pack. But I didn’t think the smallpup would even live to be a curl-tail if he didn’t get some food and the safety of the den soon.

He wrapped his scraggly tail around his legs and looked back down at the equally scraggly grass growing in the dirt. His scowl hid his brilliant eyes. “That’s easy for you to say, with the Greatwolves on your side. They all want me to die. That’s why they didn’t give me a name.”

Impatient, I turned from him. I didn’t have time for a pup who didn’t even want to live. My brother, Triell, would’ve given anything to have this chance at life. He wouldn’t have whined and trembled in fear had he survived. A pack had no place for such a wolf. I poked my nose in the den and Rissa spoke.

“Come, pups,” she said. “Come drink and rest.”

My heart lifted and I began to climb into the den. And then I stopped and looked again at the smallpup. The memory of being alone and unwanted nagged at me. I couldn’t leave him to starve. I backed out of the den and, without wasting any more words, shoved him from behind, toppling him into the den. He rolled forward with a surprised yelp and I crawled in after him.

Rissa’s den was larger than my mother’s had been, its solid dirt walls held steady by the roots of the great oak that dominated the den site, but was still small enough to feel safe. The four pups fed hungrily at Rissa’s belly. As the smallpup and I crept closer, Unnan rolled one eye toward us and growled. The smallpup standing next to me trembled and backed away.

I was heartsore from the loss of my littermates and my mother, and angry at the way the entire pack had treated me. My body grew hot and tight and I felt the fur on my back rising up and when I saw Unnan and fat Borlla feeding so contentedly, keeping everything for their greedy selves, I shoved Unnan away, making room for myself and the smallpup. I didn’t stop to think about the consequences of making an enemy of Unnan. I was just mad. When the smallpup hesitated, I grabbed the soft fur at the top of his neck and dragged him to a feeding place.

“Eat,” I told him.

Unnan harried me as I tried to feed, and Borlla growled, but I ignored them, reaching for Rissa’s rich, life-giving milk. The smallpup nestled between me and Marra, the kindest of Rissa’s pups. Full and warm, we all fell asleep against Rissa’s strong body.

The next morning Unnan and Borlla tried to get rid of me for good. Rissa, weary of her long confinement, left us with the pack’s two yearling wolves and bounded off beside Ruuqo to join the predawn hunt. Yearling wolves are often pupwatchers when adults are away. Minn, who had helped chase my mother away, was a bully and not particularly interested in watching us, but he was afraid of his sister, Yllin, and she took her responsibility seriously. They played roughly with us, and I loved how they growled and pretended to fight us. When they tired of allowing us to pounce on them and bite their tails, they watched us from a shady spot as we continued to wrestle with one another. When they slipped into their naps, I played with Marra and the smallpup. He was almost as small as I, even though he was two full weeks older, and he did not have the physical strength of a survivor wolf. But I looked more closely at his sparkling eyes and saw that he no longer had the hopeless, weary look that a pup-to-die would have. He was alert and lively, even with too little food in his belly, and in spite of the harassment of Borlla and Unnan. Surprised and pleased by this change in him, I pounced on him and he yipped joyfully as we rolled in the dirt.

Because he was dark-coated as Triell had been, and not much bigger than my lost brother, I felt I had known the smallpup for longer than a day. Amidst our scuffling, I nosed him gently on the cheek. Delighted, he poked his cold nose into my face hard enough to knock me over. I landed with an undignified thump, sending up a cloud of dust. At first he looked startled and apologetic, but then he pounced on top of me, and we wrestled happily. With a yip, Marra joined the game. The three other pups ignored us at first. Borlla was fat, pale-coated, and smelled of the milk she took first of all of us. Her fur was not the bright, pure white of Rissa’s coat, but a duller, dingy shade. Unnan was a dirty gray-brown and had a thin muzzle and tiny eyes that made him look more weasel than wolf. Reel, though larger than Marra and the smallpup, was smaller than Borlla and Unnan, and he struggled to keep up with the big pups as they fought each other in a rougher game. I played and wrestled with Marra and the smallpup until finally, too tired to continue, I sat to rest by a prickly berry bush as Marra chased the smallpup under the oak tree. I closed my eyes, lulled by the rising sun and the happy exhaustion of playing with the other pups.

Moments before my assailants attacked, I heard them and leapt to my feet. Unnan, Reel, and Borlla all pounced on me at once, knocking me flat on my back. I was unprepared for the attack and they quickly pinned me down and began to bite. To Yllin and Minn, watching sleepily from the shade, it might have looked like play. But the pups were not playing. Their teeth bit into me and they tried to crush the air from my chest.

“Ruuqo was too weak to finish killing you, but we’ll finish,” Unnan growled.

“There’s no room for you in our pack,” Borlla whispered as she tried to bite through my neck.

Reel was silent as he tried to rip at my belly.

I growled and bit and snarled and fought against them as best I could, but there were three of them and only one of me, and I knew that even if they did not kill me they could injure me severely enough to make me too weak to survive.

Just as my strength was giving out, something knocked Unnan and Borlla off me. I bit Reel on the shoulder and scrambled to my feet. The smallpup had come to my aid and had so surprised his two littermates that they had fallen awkwardly onto the hard ground. Now Unnan had him pressed to the ground as Borlla prepared to rip at his throat. I leapt over Borlla, landing on Unnan, rolling him off the smallpup and biting into his ugly fur. He tasted like dirt. Borlla abandoned her attack on the smallpup and came to help Unnan. Together they pinned me to the ground.

“Your father was a hyena,” Borlla sneered, standing over me, “and your mother a traitor and a weakling.”

“That’s why she left you,” Unnan added, baring his teeth.

Both pups growled and snarled, expecting me to be afraid of their larger size and greater strength. But I had been angry already when they ganged up on the smallpup. Their insults about my mother only made me angrier now.

How dare they?
A voice in my head was so loud I could not hear the sounds of the clearing. The stench of blood in my nose blocked all the scents of oak and spruce and wolf.
Kill them. They are not fit to be wolf.
For the second time, fury took me like the wind takes a leaf, and I threw off both pups. I would have killed them both, I know I would, but Reel had the smallpup trapped and I had to help him. When I tumbled Reel off him, the smallpup stood beside me, and together we faced the three of them, snarling. I heard Marra running to get help from the pupwatchers. I smelled hatred in Unnan and Borlla, and fear in Reel. I saw the smallpup looking at me out of the corner of his eye, with something like awe on his face. My back left leg bled from a deep gash I had not noticed in the fight, and I felt it weakening beneath me. The smallpup held his right forepaw up as if it hurt him.

I looked over the heads of our adversaries to see Yllin racing back across the clearing followed by an angry Ruuqo. The other pups followed my gaze and Borlla, Unnan, and Reel spun around to face Ruuqo, dropping to their bellies. The pack had returned early from an unsuccessful hunt. As they drew close I heard Yllin speaking softly.

“I’m sorry, leaderwolf,” she said, ears low. “They were playing, and then the big pups attacked. The smallpups fought only to defend themselves.” She paused, and dared to speak again, which I thought was very brave, since Ruuqo might be angry at her for letting the fight get out of hand. “They fought well.”

Ruuqo raised his ears at her but did not discipline her. I could tell he liked Yllin. He let her get away with more than another young wolf might. His eyes swept over us.

“No wolf deeply injures or kills a packmate without cause,” he said. “If you cannot learn that, you cannot be pack. All Swift River wolves know the difference between challenge fights and a fight to kill.” He turned to a cowering Reel. “What is the difference, pup?”

Reel looked around at Borlla and Unnan for assistance and Ruuqo swatted him.

“I did not ask your littermates, I asked you. Well?”

Reel said nothing, just rolled over on his back and whined.

“Yllin,” Ruuqo said, “please explain the difference.”

Yllin’s ears and tail lifted. “Challenge fighting is the fighting a wolf must do to win his or her place in the pack, or the fighting a leaderwolf must do to discipline pack members, to keep order. And you hurt your opponent only as much as you must,” she said. “In a fight to kill, you are trying to hurt or kill your opponent. You only fight to kill when you have no other choice.”

Ruuqo whuffed in approval. “All wolves must know how to fight or they will have no place in the pack,” he continued. “But only leaderwolves may kill or tell others to kill a pack member. And we of the Swift River pack will not kill another wolf unless we are being threatened by a rival pack or if pack lives are at stake.”

Ruuqo struck Borlla when she tried to rise. Unnan and Reel had more sense and stayed low. Then he turned to the smallpup and me. We lowered ourselves to the ground and awaited his blow. He nosed the smallpup gently. He did not even look at me.

“There is more to being wolf,” he said, “than the strength to win a fight, or the speed to catch prey.” He spoke loudly enough for the whole pack to hear, but his words were clearly directed to the pups he had disciplined. “Size and strength and speed are all part of what makes a wolf worthy of pack. But courage and honor are just as important. The interests of the pack come first, and every wolf must serve the pack.” He spoke directly to Borlla, Unnan, and Reel. “Wolves who cannot learn that are not welcome in the Swift River pack.”

I know it wasn’t kind, but I have to admit I took pleasure in the trembling and whining of Borlla and Reel, and especially of Unnan, who had lowered himself so far to the ground I thought he might disappear into the earth. But what Ruuqo did next surprised me. Usually, when a pup is not given a name, he waits as long as three moons to be accepted into the pack and then is almost certain to be low ranking. Ruuqo turned to the smallpup, and spoke softly.

“You have shown courage, honor, and strength of spirit, all qualities of a true wolf. And I welcome you into the Swift River pack.” He took the smallpup’s muzzle in his jaws.

Rissa eagerly stepped forward, tail high, her white fur shining in the sun, and spoke before Ruuqo could continue.

“We name you Ázzuen, a warrior’s name, the name of my father,” she said. “Carry your name well and do honor to the Swift River pack.”

And just like that, the smallpup became pack. It had happened so quickly I couldn’t untangle my happiness for him from my jealousy—my mother had given me a name, but no one would call me by it. I had fought more fiercely than Ázzuen, but Ruuqo had snubbed me, would not acknowledge
my
courage. For just a moment, I’m ashamed to say, I wanted to take Ázzuen by his neck fur and shake him. But as he walked back to the den, his little tail whipped proudly back and forth so temptingly I couldn’t resist it. I felt the meanness in me dry up and I snuck up behind him, leapt, and playfully nipped his tail. He turned in surprise, and I grinned at him and ran into Rissa’s den. With a bark louder than should have come from so small a pup, he leapt after me, into the milk-smelling earth. I could never bring Triell back, but in Ázzuen I had once again found a brother.

Ruuqo would not defy the Greatwolves and kill me outright, but he would not accept my name and did not make it easy for me to survive. The first time we pups fed outside the den, he stood glowering in front of Rissa, stepping aside to let the other pups pass by to reach their food, but growling and snarling when I tried to do so. It took all of my courage to wriggle past him to get my meal. Every time he saw me, he growled. Though they dared not try to kill me again, Unnan and Borlla followed Ruuqo’s lead, attacking me whenever they got the chance.