Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf (10 page)

Trying to keep her voice calm Tatianna called out. “Hawkeye?”

The music stopped, only to be followed by two short whistles. The three wolves stood up and made their way out of the burrow. Tatianna glanced down at herself. Her clothes had been removed and a black cloak that was worn and frayed was draped over her body.

As she started to sit up, a sharp stab of pain shot up her leg and her shoulder throbbed.

Hawkeye poked his head in through the den opening, “Take it easy. You have a broken leg and a nasty wound on your back.”

The emotions that ran through her body at seeing Hawkeye both scared and confused Tatianna. At one point his touch thrilled and excited her, stealing her breath and making her blood quicken. And yet, he was a Highlander, cut from the same cloth as those who raped her. Blackfang and Hawkeye seemed like two sides of a coin, similar in so many ways but always opposite.

Swallowing hard, Tatianna broke eye contact and gestured at her surroundings. “Where are we?”

He nodded his head at the burrow. “As you can guess, you are in a wolf’s den. We are a couple miles north of the river. I’m unsure how far west we are. I know the river currents carried us far but I do not know how far.”

“My brothers?”

Hawkeye shook his head.

“Rjurik?”

“I haven’t been able to locate any sign of them. I have searched the river bank for miles but there are no signs that they landed on this side. They may have been washed up on the southern bank.”

“Or they could be dead.”

“That is also possible. If they are alive, Rjurik will guide them to Itasca, the northern village of my people. In the morning, we will begin our journey.”

Trying to change the subject, Tatianna lifted the edge of the black cloak. “And these?”

Hawkeye flashed her a sly grin. “Well, there were a few hobgoblins in the area harassing this pack. I persuaded them to leave the area.”

“Hobgoblins? What are Hobgoblins?”

“They are a breed of goblins that inhabit this region. Hobgoblins are larger, mean spirited and nasty.”

“Grey skinned?”

Hawkeye nodded.

“We call them orcs in the lowlands. Legends say that they were actually humans that served the Spinner in the dark times and were corrupted by her magic.”

“Come.” Hawkeye reached out his hand. “Since you are awake, we can let the pack have their den back. I have a fire going outside and dinner will be ready soon.”

Helping Tatianna navigate the cramped opening, Hawkeye saw that although the pain from her injuries made this difficult, she bore them without complaint. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as they moved outside.

They were in a small hollow in the forest. The river could be heard faintly in the distance and the new moon could be seen just edging its way over the trees. Tatianna counted at least five other burrows in the hollow but what captured her attention were the wolves. They were surrounded by them.

A small trickle of fear ran up her spine at the sight. Something about being surrounded by twenty wolves nudged the ‘fight or flight’ instinct in her. Of course, logically she knew she would have no chance to outrun them but then the urge wasn’t logical; it was instinctive.

“Is…is it safe?” Tatianna asked hesitantly.

“Yes. These are my friends.”

Hawkeye helped her walk to the campfire in the middle of the hollow. Seeing the concern on her face, Hawkeye explained. “Wolves are proud creatures. They have a family structure very similar to elves or humans. Every pack is its own community with its own hierarchy.”

Helping Tatianna sit on a log near the fire, Hawkeye stirred the stew before sitting down next to a large grey and black wolf with numerous scars. His left ear was half gone and several fresh wounds marked his side. Tatianna could see stitches and guessed that Hawkeye had patched him up.

Tatianna asked, “Who’s your friend?”

Gently petting the beast, Hawkeye grinned. “This is Orca. He is the alpha male or pack leader. He was fighting the hobgoblins when I arrived. Judging from the tracks, they had followed the wolves and waited till they had brought down a moose before attacking.”

Hawkeye lowered his head in mourning. “I was too late to save three of the wolves but Orca had already killed two of the hobgoblin hunting party when I arrived. Together we dispatched the rest.”

Hawkeye gestured at a pile of weapons and gear off to her left. “Since we lost most of our gear in the river, I gathered up what I thought we could use.”

They ate the stew in silence for awhile, just enjoying the solitude of the forest. Tatianna felt strangely at peace. In the distance, she heard a wolf howl.

Orca sat up and a few of the surrounding wolves picked up the song. It was a strange sensation sitting in the hollow surrounded by wolves as they began their nightly song.

Orca joined in. As his voice would begin to die off another wolf would pick up the song and join in. Strangely, no two wolves would howl on the same note. Each voice was separate and distinct. Tatianna felt something primordial stir deep in her soul, she couldn’t explain it but she could feel it. The wolfsong only lasted for a few minutes but the memory of it would last the rest of her life. In that brief time, she was truly at peace -- no thoughts, no worries… nothing -- just pure and simple harmony.

Without a word, Hawkeye laid back, drew his cloak around himself and closed his eyes.

Tatianna followed his example but sleep was a long time coming. The memory of the wolfsong was in her mind and her soul. She felt restless until Orca moved up beside her, curled up and went to sleep. The warmth and comfort from his body combined with the night sounds of the forest, quieted her soul and lulled her to sleep.

The morning sun rose bright, yet shed little warmth as winter’s grip began to tighten on the Highlands. Tatianna rolled over and sat up.

The hollow was nearly empty. Only two wolf cubs playing a few feet from one of the burrows broke the stillness of the forest. The cawing of a nearby crow ended the silence. The night’s rest had done wonders for her constitution but it also worsened her aches and pains, especially her shoulder and right leg. The shoulder wound throbbed constantly and her leg wouldn't support her weight for any longer than a minute or two even with the splint Hawkeye had applied.

Hawkeye entered the hollow dragging several long tree limbs. “Good morning, how’d you sleep?”

“Good. I’m just a little stiff.”

Trying to ignore the pain, Tatianna took a tentative step, transferring all of her weight on the injured leg only to have it give out, dropping her to the ground. Seeing her fall, Hawkeye dropped his bundle and rushed to her side.

Embarrassed, Tatianna rolled over and tried to push him away. “I’ll be okay!”

Hawkeye pointed at the ground. “Sit down and let me check your wounds.”

Through clenched teeth, Tatianna shook her head. “I’ll be alright.”

“I have some skill with herbs which should help with the pain.”

Tatianna’s pride wanted to resist but logic ruled out. Relaxing at his touch, Hawkeye rolled her over onto her stomach.

Whipping out his knife, Hawkeye cut off the bandages and said, “Now hold still.” Checking the wound on her shoulder, Hawkeye noticed that it was beginning to fester and spread slightly. “This wound is great and beyond my skill. Only a shaman can help this wound and the closest shaman I know of is Anasazi, my uncle. He has a hogan in Itasca.”

“A hogan? What’s that?”

“A hogan is a type of semi-permanent lodge built by my people. Traditionally they are built with a combination of logs and mud. Nothing fancy but they are durable and comfortable during the winter months.”

“I am discovering that my knowledge of the Highlands is sorely lacking.” Glancing over her shoulder she asked, “Wait… I thought you said your family is dead?”

He flashed her a mischievous grin. “You’re right I did say that and I meant it. Blackfang and his beasts killed my family and friends but he couldn’t kill my uncle for he was already dead.” 

Noticing the puzzled look on her face, Hawkeye chuckled slightly but continued. “You see, when any Highlander shows the ability and skill that is necessary to become a shaman, he leaves his family. In effect, he dies; only to be reborn as a shaman, becoming a member of everyone’s family.  Anasazi raised me for several years after my father disappeared and before I was adopted by the White Wolf pack.”

Applying a poultice of herbs, Hawkeye redressed her wounds. “These herbs will deaden the pain and should make it easier for you to walk but it is only temporary.”

Finished with her shoulder and leg, he let his gaze roam over her body. She was extremely beautiful. The muscles in her legs and thighs were tight and firm. As she rolled over, Hawkeye admired the flatness of her stomach and the roundness of her breasts.

‘By Luna she’s beautiful,’ he thought. ‘Never have I met a woman that looked like her and had such a fiery spirit, not even my late wife.’

Feeling slightly embarrassed and saddened by his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand, her bandages and reached up to check the bandages around her face.

Flinching at his touch, Tatianna brought her hand up defensively. For a brief moment neither of them moved nor spoke. Lowering her hand, she blushed. “I’m sorry. I’m very sensitive about my face.”

Hawkeye apologized. “No, I’m sorry. I should have asked you first. May I check your bandage? I promise to be gentle.”

Nodding her agreement, Tatianna steeled herself for his touch. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing until she felt herself relax.

Reaching up, Hawkeye removed her bandages. His touch was as gentle as a feather. Continuing to check her wounds, he noticed the scars on her face were deep and very red, two very bad signs but he said nothing about them. He softly reapplied the bandages and added a poultice of herbs and berries. “This should help speed the healing process.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Tatianna tried to change the subject. “How long will it take to get to Itasca?”

“It’s only a three day run from the fork in the river,” Hawkeye replied casually as he stowed away his gear.

Tatianna flashed him a crooked grin. “Is that as a wolf or human?”

Now it was Hawkeye’s turn to be embarrassed as he sat back and laughed at himself. “I’m sorry, that’s as a wolf. I forgot you cannot travel that way.”

As Tatianna joined him in their lighthearted laugh, Hawkeye thought her laughter was the most musical thing he had ever heard.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I would have to guess that it will probably take us at least ten days, if not more. I have never traveled that distance on two legs.”

“Well neither have I.” Struggling to stand, she spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ll try not to slow us down too much.”

He walked back to the branches he had dropped earlier. “You won’t. This morning I made a travois for you.”

Tatianna asked, “A what?”

Hawkeye pointed at his creation. It didn’t look like much. Two saplings about twelve feet in length lying next to each other with leather straps and hides, taken from the dead hobgoblins, holding one end about two feet apart, while the other end was wider and blanketed with furs.

“A travois. It’s a type of sled.”  Hawkeye pointed at the wider end. “You can lie on it here and,” gesturing to the smaller end, “I’ll pull it. We should make decent time and you won’t have to use your injured leg. The only major problem with this type of sled it that we will be easy to track but that can’t be helped at this point.”

With Hawkeye’s help, Tatianna hobbled over to the contraption and laid down where he directed. Looking up at him, she asked, “How are you going to pull this?”

Flashing her smile and a quick wink, Hawkeye let his change come over him. Tatianna once again watched in awe at his transformation from Highland warrior to the beautiful white wolf. Walking over to the makeshift harness, Hawkeye nosed himself into it before glancing back at her.

Tatianna said, “I’m ready.”

And he was off at a trot. Traveling through deep evergreen forests, vast open plains, and rocky ravines and across many crystal clear streams, Tatianna began to see the beauty and attraction of the Highlands.

They saw great herds of bison or what Hawkeye had called buffalo, several packs of wolves, a small herd of elk and three bears. Once, they even came across a rare and extremely large sabre-tooth tiger feeding on a freshly killed moose. This beautiful creature did nothing more than glare at them as they passed within fifteen yards of it. All the animals they ran across, predator or prey seemed to take no notice of them. It was as if they belonged to the Highlands.  

Each day passed the same. Hawkeye would pull from sun up to sun down, only stopping for a brief break around midday. Shifting back into human form, he would eat the midday meal with her and recheck her bandages. As soon as they were done eating, they were off again. And each night shortly after dinner Hawkeye would shift back into his wolf form and run off into the forest.

In the dark of the night far in the distance, Tatianna would hear the mournful howls of the wolves. She could feel the sadness and loneliness carried in their song. It stirred her soul. On the eighth night after they had left the clearing, Tatianna stood slowly and hobbled over to the edge of the light given off by the campfire.

Glancing at the dark sky, she knew the new moon hung somewhere overhead, invisible, yet still watching. Studying the stars in the late autumn sky, she felt all alone and slightly sad. Hobbling back to the fire, she crawled under her furs and tried to sleep.

It was well after midnight before Hawkeye returned to the camp. Waking quietly, she found him staring into the heart of the fire. Biting her lip for a moment, she chose to take this opportunity to ask a question that had always bothered her.

Even though she spoke softly, in the still of the night her voice seemed quite loud. “Hawkeye, why do wolves howl at the moon?”

He didn’t move for several minutes. She was beginning to think he was asleep but then his voice, full of regret and grief cut through the night air.