Read Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves Online
Authors: W. A. Hoffman
Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (60 page)
fighting the surf at the entrance to the cove. Pete still had not reached us. To my great relief, two shots rang out fromour craft and many of the Spaniards stopped and threw themselves down behind rocks as one of their men fell. I turned to see Ash and Chris reloading. Our newly-minted youth was doing an admirable job of it, despite the tears in his eyes and the shaking of his hands. Soon he was aiming once again. Pete was at the gunwale and Ash snapped off a quick shot before stooping to help him aboard. One of the bolder Spaniards stood and aimed at the broad expanse of Pete’s exposed back. Chris shot the man squarely in the chest—despite the bouncing the craft. Then we were past the surf and beyond the range of their guns with wind inour sail.
As we all collapsed to pant in the aftermath, the Spaniards ran along the shore, following us. Since a craft the size ofours cannot trulygo anyfaster thana mancanrun, it was easy enough for them to do. Cudro adjusted the rudder and sail and we beganto head northeast and out to sea.
“There’s that port to the north,” Cudro said. “They can send larger craft fromit.”
“Will they, for a few goats?” I asked, and then remembered the rest of what I had heard. “How many men did youhave to kill?”I asked Pete.
His expressionwas grim. “NotMen, Boys. Goat’erds.”
“They were little boys,” Chris said quietly with a thin and distant tone that said far more thanhis expressionless features.
“We stumbled upon the plantation,” Ash said, his voice tight. “We were skirting it when we came across the herd of
“’EWereStubbornAn’Stupid, SoIKilled’Im,” Pete said withconvictionand dared the other two to argue.
Ash looked away and continued. “The younger one… He began to run. And
she
shot him.”Ash shook his head with a bitter frown. “Then of course it did not matter if they had called out, as the shot alerted everyone who heard it.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Chris asked the deck betweenhis knees.
“WhatYaDid!” Pete said with a glare at Ash. “BetterThey’EarA Shot ’AveSomeDamnBoy
Stealin’TheGoats.
TaTalkOnIffn’TheyAllHeardIt, AnThenSendSomeoneTaLook. GaveUsAGoodHeadStart. Kept’EmSlow InTheWoods ’CauseTheyNa’Know ’OwManyTheyBeFacin’.”
“She did not know that!” Ash protested. “She did not planthat!”
Chris nodded in sad agreement.
She
appeared to be a lost and confused child
herself
: I was having great difficulty thinking of her as male when she wore such an expression and knelt cringingfromAsh’s recriminations.
“I only knew I had to stop him,” she said. “I did not think… I…”
“Youshot a child inthe back!”Ashroared.
Pete stood and roared back. “’
E
DidGood! ItWereAGoodShot! Little BodyRunnin’ ThroughBrush.
An’BeConfusedThan Tell’EmThreeBuccaneersBe Made’EmTakeTime ItWeren’tEasy. Proved’ECouldShoot.”
Chris shuddered.
“This is wrong!”Ash growled. “It’s one thing for her to pretend to be a man. It’s another entirely for her to shoot children in the back. Ladies do not shoot children.” He turned a vicious glare onher. “Did it make youfeelmore like a man? Well mendo not shoot childreninthe back.”
“IStabbedOneInTheGut! WhatDoesThatMakeMe?” Pete scoffed. “TheyWereTheEnemy. ThoseLittleBastards Woulda’JeeredUsOnThe Gallows. ThrownRocksAtOurBloody BodiesWhileWeFoughtTa Breathe Our Last. WeBeBuccaneers! WeNa’BeNoble GentlemanThat Make AnotherDoOurKillin’.
He
,” he pointed at Chris, “BeAGoodMan. ’EDidWhat’E’Ad TaToSave’IsBrethren. ’ESavedMyLife. MadeAShot CountFromABoatInSurf. YouWillNa’BeInsultin’’Im.”
Beyond her, mygaze crossed Cudro’s, and we awarded one another bemused shrugs.
Ash retreated within himself and ignored Pete by studyingthe horizonsullenly.
Pete glowered at himfor a time before turning away and squattingbefore Chris.
She met his gaze and spoke with painful sincerity. “I am a fool. I did not think I would have to kill anyone.” Then she cringed as ifPete would laugh.
Pete smiled, but he did not laugh. “WeAllEndUp Doin’ThingsWe Don’tThinkWeWill. ItBeThe WayO’TheGods, AskWill.”
I chuckled ruefully. “Aye, it is the way of the Gods to
I chuckled ruefully. “Aye, it is the way of the Gods to ask muchofus.”
“NowLet’sSkinAn’CleanTheGoats,” Pete said gently and moved past us to the bow to examine the carcasses. “SomeoneMadeARightMessO’ Killin’’These… Three.” He held up a legthat was barelyattached to a body.
“That was me,” Chris said. “They would not be quiet and…”
Pete shrugged. ThisJustMakes’EmHarder GetThoseOthersUp’Ere.”
Chris meekly stowed
his
musket and pulled the two living goats to the bow. Gaston and I moved aside to let him pass. We ended up sitting together with our backs to the wind. Cudro was speaking quietly to Ash in the stern. Ash’s expression and the occasional glance he cast at Chris spoke volumes. The damnfoolwas no longer infatuated with
her
.
I looked to the pair inthe bow.
“Well… the Gods seem to have handled some of our concerns quite nicely; though it seems a shame about the goatherds,”I said.
“You are engaging in hubris again,” Gaston said without mirth. “Who are you to presume their innocence? They might have done much to anger the Gods; and what Pete said of them was true:theyare as muchour enemyas their fathers.”
“We were robbingthem,”I noted.
“And yet the Gods chose to smite them and not us,” he said withsincere bemusement. “We trulycannot question, Will.”
“I suppose so. Or perhaps it as many of the ancients “WeBeKillin’’EmAnyway. TaSkinIsAll.
“I suppose so. Or perhaps it as many of the ancients believed, and humanity holds very little interest to the Gods. We do as we will, and They do not judge unless it affects Their goals and ways. We—and we alone—are responsible for our choices —and the burdenofthose choices.”
“Would you have done the same?” Gaston asked. “As Chris did?”
I envisioned the encounter Ash had described. “It would have depended on the miens of the boys. If they had appeared bewildered and scared and seemed to view me as an inexplicable monster in their midst, I think not. If, however, they appeared cunning, or to possess malice toward me, I think I would have perceived them as an enemy—as much as any man twice their age who would do me harm.”
Mymatelot nodded thoughtfully. “Oui, I feelthe same.”
Pete’s account indicated he had made just such a determination and found the boy he pounced upon to be an enemy. I did not know what Chris saw in the eyes of the one he shot—or even if he had seen the child’s eyes. It did not matter. He had not gone there to harm them. Truly, he had not even arrived on their shore to steal their goats, only to look for food. The entirety of it had been an unfortunate matter of happenstance: with each person present acting according to his nature and perforce acceptingthe consequence ofhis actions.
I wondered how I would have behaved: not if I were in Chris’ place, but if I were one of the boys. “There was a time when I would have regarded the sudden appearance of wolves in my life with wonder and curiosity. Perhaps there was a time whenI was innocent.”
Gaston met my gaze. “I feel you still are. You award many we encounter the benefit of doubt. Once you determine they are enemies you do as you must to protect yourself or others; but truly, Will, I have not known you to seek to harm unless confronted withmalice.”
I was heartened byhis words. “I feelthe same ofyou.”
He shook his head. “Non, there is a difference: my Horse oftenseeks to harm:He enjoys it.”
I wished to disagree, and then I thought on the times we had beenthe wolves visitingdepredationuponhapless Spaniards while raiding. Whereas I ever found myself following along shooting or stabbing those who would attack us rather than cower; Gaston—while under the sway of his Horse—often greeted anyhe encountered withviolence no matter their mien.
“You have always said it is best to turn you upon the enemyat suchtimes,”I said.
He shook his head sadly. “It shames me. Others have made much of our bringing war to the Spanish as retaliation for war the Spanish have delivered on us; or that it is in the name of survival, in that we require provisions—or gold they have too much of and we too little; but Will, I never roved for such excuses. I roved because I was angry with the world and releasingthat anger uponmenI did not know or have to live with seemed preferable. The menI traveled with would killme ifI did the same to them, but they applauded what I delivered to our purported enemy.”
“Your Horse no longer feels such a need.” I said. It was not a question:I knew it to be true.
“Oui.” He shook his head with wonder and bemusement furrowed his brow. “And He feels as much regret as I. We are as one onthe matter. I know we have discussed this—somewhat —when talking of my wish to be a physician—as I was when last we raided—but I had not quite viewed it thusly. It is not merelythat I now wishto healmore thanharm; it is also that I no longer feelthe need to harm.”
I had not viewed the matter with such clarity before, either. “As always, my love, I am very proud of the healing you have done.”
“You should be,” he said with a smile. “You are responsible for it.”
“Youknow that is not what I meant.”
His smile widened and he met my gaze again. “Oui, I do; but mywords are stilltrue:youare responsible.”
“Thank you.”
“It makes me feel better about being weak,” he said thoughtfully. “If I felt the need to do as I have before, my Horse would get me killed inmypresent state.”
“Non, I amnot completely incompetent in battle,” I said. “StillI amglad neither ofus is so moved.”
“Oui,” he said. “Let us pray the Gods do not wish for us to face battle again—not because either of us is weak, but because we do not wishit.”
We sailed through the night with the mountain range a dark shadow to starboard. The morning broke clear with a stiff eastern wind. Cudro tacked back and forth, sailing as close into it as our little sail could manage. As we had food and water, we agreed not to go ashore, and to simply take advantage of the strong breeze and go as far as we could before we were forced to put ashore.
As we would thus be stuck upon our little craft, I resolved to do what I could to follow my new exercise regime. I pushed bags aside and cleared a small space before the mast in which to engage in such calisthenics as I was able. At first Pete teased me, but when I made light of his lax muscles, he became competitive as I expected. We were soon taking turns doing push-ups, sit-ups, and lunges in the small space—and Chris and Ashwere harangued into joiningus.
By noon, we were giddy and exhausted, and I knew we would regret our enthusiastic excess on the morrow. However, the tension plaguing us these last days was dissipated, and no one seemed prone to argue as the afternoon progressed. The wind fell off, and Cudro angled us a little towards shore. We lay wind fell off, and Cudro angled us a little towards shore. We lay about and talked of pleasant times, mountains and other places we had seen, and sights we wished to see before we died.
As the sun began to sink to the west, Pete took a turn at the tiller. I was woken fromdrowsing by his cursing. We looked about and spied his concern. There were now mountains to the east, emergingquicklyfromthe haze that had developed after the wind died down.
I had a brief fantastical musing that perhaps we had angered the Gods in some fashion and were now cursed to sail through ever-changing lands and seas untilwe made amends and they allowed us to return home—or at least somewhere we knew. Perhaps I had embraced the name Ulysses too long in the travels of my youth, and now some fickle and bored deity wished to show me what it was truly like to wander lost. Maybe the goatherds and their goats had been favored in some manner,
the sun set, spied the inlet of a streamcoming off the mountains. We pushed our craft ashore and built a small fire for the night. Cudro was despondent: he wandered from camp, and Ash followed him. Gaston and I set about roasting the goat meat since we had no more salt to preserve it. Chris and Pete sat nearby and talked quietly: a thing I found quite odd, but decided not to comment on as they were at least getting on well. My matelot and I companionably took turns stoking the fire and sleeping.
As the dawn broke, we found Cudro and Ash had As the dawn broke, we found Cudro and Ash had returned, and both looked quite a bit happier with life. Pete and Chris had apparently slept nearby, and near one another. They did not appear as happy as Cudro and his apparently restored matelot, and I would have been both aghast and agog if they had. It did bode well for Pete possibly considering aiding in the ruse of disguising Chris on Cow Island by pretending to be his matelot, though.
We sailed into the deep, early-morning shadow of this new eastern range of mountains. Though sore from yesterday’s exercise, Pete, Chris, and I forced ourselves to engage in another round of calisthenics; though, with considerably less competition and enthusiasm. Pete was even moved to lament how lax he had allowed his physique to become. He readily agreed to spar the next time we went ashore. Then we all discussed whether we should sailthroughthe night or not, onlyto decide that we should not make such a decision until we saw what fickle things the mountains did in our path throughout the remainder ofthe day.
We did not see the sun rise above the mountains until late morning. By then, we were trying to convince ourselves the seemingly-unrelieved haze that blended ocean and sky to the northeast was truly the end of this annoying jut of land and not a trick of the clouds masking more of the same. By mid-afternoon we were sure the mountains did end ahead, and we would be able to turn east again—thus greatly increasing our chances of soon being able to head south; as we assuredly must to round
gunwale withhis hand onthe mast inorder to see farther ahead. Cudro and Gaston joined him in standing, and Ash,
Chris, I attempted to sink lower in order to keep our small craft
stable. Those standing peered at the point of land marking the
end ofthe mountains ahead. Those sittingpeered up at them. Cudro finallyswore and sat witha worried frown. “There is a ship anchored there,” Gaston said with
concern as he, too, sat. “At least a large sloop, but possibly a
two-master ofsome type. She is not moving.”
I stood and peered where they had. If I squinted and
turned my head from side to side I could occasionally see what
looked to be the darker slice of a hull above the glittering waves
inthe distant haze. There was the glint ofmast fromtime to time. “A port?”I asked.
“Nay,”Cudro said. “She’s too far fromshore.” He was adjusting our sail and the tiller and bringing us
closer to the beach.
I looked up the line of the land and out until I spied the
mysterious vessel again. “We could see her well enough from
shore, non?”
Pete and Cudro nodded.
I looked to the sun slowly sinking toward the west.
“What do we saythe distance to her is?”
“Two leagues, perhaps,”Cudro said.
I looked to Pete. “Well, we wished to run a little, did we
not?”
He swore and grumbled under his breath as he donned
his baldric and belt.
“Let us get closer,”Cudro said.
We were now close enough to shore that we could not
see the vessel anymore. Cudro sailed at least a league farther
and then ran us aground on a spit of beach that had a large
outcrop of rock between it and the mysterious ship. We pushed
our craft ashore and into the brushto hide her fromsight. “Be careful,” Gaston said with great worry as I checked
the powder inmypistols and musket.
“Well, I shallnot endeavor to be reckless,”I assured him
and gave hima kiss that he returned withfervor.
Then I set off with Pete at a jog. It felt good to stretch
my cramped muscles again, but I prayed we would not find the
need to runback.
We ran along the beach until we reached the outcrop of
rock—a small point of land, actually. We climbed it and found
we could see the vessel up ahead from about a league’s
distance. Judging from the sun and the way the land fell toward
the sea to the north, the ship was anchored at the end of the
eastern range of mountains. We kept to the forest, though it
slowed us greatly, as we made our way closer to the mysterious
craft.
Our cautionwas rewarded whenwe saw two mensitting
atop a rock outcropping ahead. They were smoking pipes and
looking up the beach Pete and I had just avoided walking on.
We sank deeper into the foliage and made a slow and careful
job of achieving the side of the mountain well above and behind
the men. From this new vantage point we were able to survey
the shallow bay, just beyond which the ship was anchored. She was indeed a sleek but large sloop, and she flew Spanish colors. The pristine beach was marred by three canoes and three sets of footprints. One headed toward the pair ofmenwe had seen, one headed to the middle ofthe bay, and the third to the outcropping to the east. We sat stilland perused the forest and rocks inthose directions, until we at last spotted the middle set of men in the golden evening light. They were well above us on a shoulder of
mountain, where theycould see the bayand the sea beyond. “They’reWatchin’ FerSomethin’.”Pete said. “Aye, I see that. And they are not merely keeping watch
in order to protect some activity ashore. Unless they plan to pull
her ashore and careenher in the morning,”I added. “Or are they
smugglers and waitingto meet withsomeone here?”
“TheyBeLookin’FerUs.”
I wanted to disagree with him, but my Horse, gut, and
even seat of reason were thinking him correct. If the plantation
we had stolen the goats fromhad sent a rider to the port we had
passed several days ago, they would have had two choices to
track us down: one, they could sail along the shore in the
direction we had been going—with us several days ahead of
them and possibly perpetually out of reach—even when one
considered how fast the sloop would be compared to our little
flyboat; or two, they could sail directly across what we had not
known was a large bay, and thus wait for us at the point of land
we would have to round in order to continue our course around
the island.
And, evenifPete and I were engaging in hubris as to our
importance in the scheme ofthese men’s lives, they were stillour
enemies and squarelyinour path.
I swore under my breath. “We will have to sail around
them in the night; but damn it, what if the land on the other side
of this point takes some unexpected jog? I suppose if we sail far
enoughto the north, we can…”
“ShutUp,” Pete said with a smile. “YouAn’MeNeedTa
ClimbUpThereAn’See.”He pointed straight up the wallofstone
and jungle behind us.
“To the Devilwithyou,”I said witha sigh.
He chuckled.
“Not inthe dark,”I added.
“Nay, Let’sGoTellTheOthers. KeepHidden.
GoAtFirstLight.”
I nodded my grudging agreement and we retraced our
steps back through the brush until we were out of sight of their
lookouts. We ran the last stretch of beach as the sun set. Gaston
had to whistle to us before we passed them.
No one was happy with our news; but truly, we were all
happier to have it now when we sat safe in the dark a league
fromour enemies than having to surmise it while they chased our
slow little craft downwithcannon.
“Do not go up quickly, and
do not
come down quickly,”
Gaston urged as he massaged my aching muscles. “There is no
need. We canstayhere for days.”
“But I will miss you,” I teased and did a little massaging
ofmyownuponhis crotch.
He slapped myhand away. “Youmust rest.” I snorted. “I shall not rest until all parts of me are
sufficientlytired.”
With an amused sigh, he redirected his pleasing fingers
untileverypart ofme was emptyand readyfor sleep. Pete and I set out at first light, laden with a water skin,
some roast goat, and our weapons. The way was too steep to
go straight up the mountain above our camp, so we worked our
way through the forest, climbing ever higher to the north and the
point untilwe were far above the place where the Spanish vessel
and her watchers squatted. We knew we had crossed the tip of
the range when we were assaulted by the brunt of the wind that
blew clouds in from the sea to the east. We were still far below
the summit, and so we continued to climb the edge of the peak
where there were few trees—goingsouthnow. The sunwas well
to the west when it disappeared into the dense clouds and the
rain started. We could not see any distance, and the mud and
stone were becoming treacherous—especially as we were
staggering with exhaustion. We admitted defeat for the day and
retreated to the lee of the mountain shoulder to escape the wind
and the worst ofthe rain.
It had become quite cold. I was sure it was no cooler
than a balmy day in London, but to men covered in sweat from
exertion and very accustomed to being overly warm in the
tropical heat, it had become miserably chilly. We cursed and
huddled together under an overhang of rock like a pair of wet
cats. We at last curled together for the mutualwarmthand slept. The day dawned bright, clear, and full of birdsong. I
disengaged myself fromPete’s clinging limbs and found he had a
fine erection in the process. I put some distance between us and