Sunset of Lantonne (52 page)

“No, she’s a loon with more power than she knows how to use. Bad combination that might get her killed sooner or later. I’m honestly glad she sent you with me. It’s safer for you and I needed someone to talk to.”

Greth said nothing further for a while, instead focusing on preparing a tiny fire to roast the rabbits. He rarely cooked anything as long as Raeln would have preferred, but having anything warm in his belly was relief enough to keep him from complaining, if only out of gratitude that Greth knew how to hunt.

“My father was butchered by a Turessian,” Greth said at last as he laid a spit with the skinned rabbits on it over the small flames. “Bastard tore him apart with magic the way we tear apart rabbits.”

“You never let that show when we were in Lantonne. You sat near Therec more than once at meals.”

“He didn’t kill my father, but I won’t claim it was easy being around him. If I blamed every furless, Turessian, or hunter for those that hurt members of my family or pack, I would’ve gotten myself killed years ago trying to avenge one wrong or another. I may not like the furless, but I can’t hate them all for what one did. Therec may not be a great human, but I won’t tear his throat out because he was born in the same land as the creature that killed my father.”

“That’s a lot kinder view than I expected from you,” Raeln admitted.

“I’m full of surprises,” replied Greth. “Don’t push your luck with the questions, though. You may find some answers you really don’t like. Anyone living in the wilds long enough does things they aren’t proud of. Some of my old pals saw to that.”

They ate in silence, broken only by Greth’s occasional growls as he ripped pieces off of his rabbit with his teeth. Raeln looked away each time Greth did that, trying to keep his attention on picking meat from his own food with his short claws.

“You still can’t watch me eat, can you?” Greth asked finally, wiping blood from his muzzle. “Do you need a fork or will you be able to finish without one? I might have a napkin in my pack somewhere.”

Rolling his eyes in aggravation, Raeln ignored Greth and continued pulling at the bones of the rabbit, trying to get at the remaining meat.

“You’ll be dead inside a week with the pack,” complained Greth, reaching out and snatching the rabbit from Raeln’s hands. “Defend your food, pup.”

Raeln stared at Greth in confusion and then held out a hand. “Please give that back.”

Laughing, Greth stepped farther away, holding the partially eaten rabbit in one hand. “Take it back, if you can,” he told Raeln. “Food is the only real currency out here. If you can’t keep me from taking it from you, someone a lot bigger and meaner than me will starve you or kill you outright. The pack-leader can’t be everywhere…you need to stand up for yourself.”

On unsteady feet, Raeln stood and tried to walk over to Greth. The smaller man nimbly darted away, even in the deep snow outside the tree shelter where they had slept.

“Enough of this,” Raeln told him, getting tired of the game as Greth dodged away again.

“Ilarra kept saying how great a fighter you are. Prove it. Take the rabbit from me if you can, Raeln. I know a bunch of people you’ll meet at the pack that won’t say anything before taking your food. If you can’t take food from someone who doesn’t really want to hurt you, then you’ll never be able to take it from someone who’s trying to starve you in hopes that you’ll weaken and they can tear into you later. You’ll either live with the deer wildlings or you’d die. I don’t want to see either happen.”

Moving his shoulders to loosen his arms, Raeln tried to flex his toes and ankles to get some feeling back into them. Tingling through both legs told him that moving fast would be impossible, at least until he had been moving longer. He could fight, but his body would not react as well as he would have liked. It would have to do.

Without Ilarra present, Raeln felt he had a distinct advantage over the scuffles he had gotten into with Greth in the past. The bond with Ilarra made him constantly fear for her safety, to watch her in the middle of any fight she could not distance herself from. This time she was miles away, relieving him of any concerns.

Raeln stared at Greth, who grinned back at him. Attacking the man over a joke was hardly what he had been trained for and he immediately regretted even standing up. Getting into a shoving match with Greth—something Ilarra had been forced to break up countless times—was one thing, but being asked to fight for food that Greth had been the one to gather was beneath Raeln.

“This isn’t worth my time,” Raeln told him, sitting back down in the mostly snow-free area. His stomach grumbled at his decision, but he crossed his legs and relaxed, refusing to be governed by his belly. “If we need more food, I’ll hunt this time.”

Glaring, Greth threw the rabbit back to Raeln. “You really have no idea what you’re doing out here, do you?” he asked as he came over, stopping to lean on a nearby tree. “There are people…”

Greth stopped and sniffed, then winced.

“Go on, little pup,” came a new voice from Raeln’s left, off in the trees. “Tell us about these people. What kind of people are there? I will give you time to warn you new friend.”

From the trees, six wildlings emerged. All of them were wolves, like Greth and Raeln, though two had patterning that spoke of an ancestry far from the mountains. The four grey wolves could easily have been from Hyeth given their patterning, though their ragged handmade clothing fit more in the wilds than in any city. At first glance, Raeln thought of the werewolves outside Lantonne, but these were more like himself and less like true animals.

The lead wildling was very nearly as tall as Raeln and wore little more than a leather loincloth and a sheet of leather hide as a jacket. Scars covered his arms, legs, and neck, with some fresh enough the wounds were still pink and raw.

One of the wildlings dragged the mangled body of an elf—though it was far too badly torn apart for Raeln to be sure by sight, he recognized the scent—leaving a long trail of blood in the snow behind them. The elf looked to have been torn apart by large animals.

“Remember when I said there were wildlings who’d kill you if you can’t fit in?” Greth asked softly, keeping his eyes on the newcomers. “Here they are…the very ones I was thinking of when I said it. Raeln, meet Olis.”

“Stop scaring the new people, Greth,” warned the largest of the wolves, apparently the one Greth had called Olis. His blue eyes studied Raeln cautiously, then dismissed him and went back to watching Greth. “Did you bring this one to join or were you planning on hunting in our lands? We talked about this already and I remember you running with your tail tucked.”

Slowly, Raeln stood, trying to make himself not appear to be a threat. Olis did not so much as glance at him, but three of the others watched him intently for any indication of danger. The remaining two were eyeing Greth cautiously while their leader conversed.

“Olis, we just want to get back to Lihuan’s pack without trouble,” said Greth, though his tone and posture spoke of a readiness to fight and a lot of fear he had difficulty hiding. “You swore to him that there would be no more attacks on pack members, especially over hunting disputes. This is mutual territory, not yours, not Lihuan’s.”

Olis grinned and motioned toward the dead elf. “There is no dispute about the land,” Olis told them. “We hunted down enough food for today, though it thought it was hunting us while it scouted Altis. I just want to know why you’re back before I send you to Lihuan.”

“I can come and go as I please, per your agreement with our pack,” answered Greth, bracing himself. He clearly thought combat would break out at any moment but was trying to stand up to the others. Raeln had no idea what he could do that would not make things worse. “Lihuan sent me on a task and I’m coming back to the pack to report in. Are you planning on stopping me from talking to Lihuan or is this just your way of saying ‘hello and welcome back, old friend’?”

“I wouldn’t dream of stopping you from talking to the fox that thinks himself a leader,” the wolf replied, his grin becoming more broad and malicious. “I ask a favor first, pup.”

Olis turned to look at Raeln, eyeing him up and down while three of the others fanned out to circle Greth and Raeln and cut off any escape routes.

“Your pack has scattered since you left,” he went on. “There isn’t a lot of food in this part of the woods to spread among all the mouths. Kill the stranger…or be killed by him…and the survivor can come eat with us. Either that or, for the good of the pack, we’ll be forced to kill you both. Just protecting Lihuan’s territory as per our agreement, you understand.”

Raeln looked to Greth for some clue what to do, but he appeared to be searching for a way to run without being caught by the other wildlings. At first, Raeln could not understand why, as none of the wolves were armed, despite the body they dragged with them. In all his years, he had met few humanoids that could fight effectively without some kind of tool, even if it were just a rock.

Then Raeln noticed the stains on the wildlings’ finger fur that spoke of being dragged through blood numerous times, until the color would no longer completely fade. Their claws were crusted with freshly dried blood. These were the savages he had thought Greth to be, and judging by Greth’s reaction, they terrified him as much or more than they did Raeln.

“Greth, you are disappointing me,” warned Olis. “I don’t give many pups a second chance to join my pack. Kill the newcomer or we kill you like I promised to do when you ran like a coward the last time we challenged you. It’s your choice, but decide quickly or we kill you both.”

Raeln adjusted his position to guard against Greth, thinking in a situation like this he knew where the man’s loyalties lay. Greth had always been quite clear his own survival was his utmost priority, and right now, survival meant attacking Raeln. Raeln could not even fault him for the decision.

Turning toward Raeln, Greth mouthed the word “sorry” even as he put one hand to the dagger at his side. Greth checked the claws on his other hand one finger at a time.

“A long walk just to have you kill me,” Raeln told him, trying to keep the other wolves’ locations in the back of his mind. He could not face them all and would need to cripple one or more, then run faster than the others in snowy terrain they knew better than he did if he wanted to survive. “Couldn’t you have just stabbed me in my sleep? It would have been easier.”

“This isn’t about easy,” Olis snapped, laughing gruffly. “The pup hasn’t had his first hunt yet. The so-called pack-leader sent him out to prove himself without properly bloodying his hands. We’re making him an adult the way our kind should, by killing the most dangerous intruder on our land. He did come to us for a place in the pack, after all.”

Raeln and Greth circled in the packed snow where they had spent the night, both watching the other for the cue to attack. Greth’s hand never left his knife, but he made no attempt to draw it.

Thinking through their previous fights in his mind, Raeln analyzed Greth’s tactics. Their early fights when Greth had been a prisoner had been erratic, with Greth often reacting entirely out of a bestial instinct Raeln could barely understand, though he had a good idea the ways Greth would strike if he fought that way. Later scuffles Raeln had instigated to learn more about how Greth fought and now he was happy that he had. He had seen much of Greth’s capabilities and thought that he could take him down if he had to. Ilarra had lectured him about the fights, but they had been essential in learning what Greth could and could not do.

In Raeln’s mind, he predicted that Greth would draw the dagger but attack with his claws first. Greth seemed to think a foe feared weapons more than claws and would focus on the dagger while he struck with his free hand. When Raeln attempted to stop his off-hand, he would try to stab Raeln in the chest with the weapon or slash at his throat. If that failed, Raeln expected either a knee to his ribs or Greth’s fangs aimed at his throat. Raeln could not predict the man’s attacks further than that, but he doubted it would take long to disarm and disable Greth.

Kicking up snow as he charged, Greth attacked Raeln, using his off-hand’s claws to strike while he closed his other hand over the knife in preparation to draw it.

Raeln smiled inwardly and moved into the attack, catching Greth’s arm as he spun, throwing Greth off-balance. It took almost no effort to roll the man, sending him tumbling toward one of the other wolves in a plume of snow.