Through Wolf's Eyes (5 page)

A howl sounded and was answered by a chorus which continued even as Derian slipped into exhausted rest.

F
IREKEEPER SWALLOWED A
hurried meal of lightly grilled brook trout while listening to the Ones' parting advice.

"We have sent the pack ahead to hunt for you," the
One Female said, her silver fur glinting in the morning light. "This
way you will not be delayed along the trail."

"But, Mother," the young woman protested, "you and the pups will go hungry!"

"The One Male will hunt for us," the One Female
reassured her, "and we have kept the Whiner near to mind the pups so I
can hunt as well. If you are worried about us, remember, the faster you
make your trail, the faster the others can return."

Firekeeper nodded.

"Blind Seer waits where the two-legs are," the One
Male added. "He learned of their coming from a Cousin wolf who came in
panic before them. Blind Seer crossed through the gap to watch the
two-legs' coming and send word ahead. He will remain with you. The
falcon should be with him, though by now she may have departed to
report to the Mothers of her aerie."

"Good."

The young woman dropped to her knees to rub her face
in each puppy's fuzzy coat. They looked more like little bears now than
wolves: muzzles short, ears small and round. Their blue eyes were still
cloudy.

"I'll miss you all," she said, embracing the Ones and
punching the Whiner, who had emerged from behind a rock, lightly on one
shoulder.

"Sing your news," the One Male reminded her, "and it will reach our ears."

Firekeeper promised to do so. Then, after
extinguishing her fire, she departed. As morning passed into bright
daylight, daylight into afternoon, noon into evening, she ran east, her
gait the steady mile-eating jog of a wolf. When she grew tired, she
slowed, walking a hundred paces, jogging a hundred. When even this
became onerous, she climbed into the boughs of some spreading forest
giant, an oak or maple by choice, and napped.

As promised, her brothers and sisters met her along
the way, telling her how winter had reshaped the trails, feeding her if
she was hungry, showing her the closest fresh water.

By night, she had met up with Blind Seer. This young,
powerful male, some three years old, had been named for his eyes, which
never changed from puppy blue to the more usual yellow-brown. For a
time, the wolves had thought his vision damaged and had philosophically
accepted that he would be among those pups who did not survive their
first year.

Blind Seer had surprised them all by demonstrating
evidence of sight as sharp as any wolf's. His baby fur had grown out
into a classic grey coat shading to ghostly silver at the tips and
touched with reddish brown around his face. Content to remain with the
pack his first two summers, this spring he was showing restlessness.

Firekeeper knew that the Ones fully expected Blind
Seer to disperse this spring, seeking territory and perhaps a mate of
his own. The knowledge had saddened her, since Blind Seer had been one
of her favorites since he was a pup. Perhaps the fact that he, like
her, was marked by a difference had drawn her to him. Perhaps it was
that he had never lost a puppyish curiosity about what lay over the
next hill.

Now she must face that, different as he seemed, Blind
Seer belonged to the way of the wolf in a fashion that she never could.
He would follow it and she would go on, as ever, somewhat apart from
those she loved best.

The thought sobered her mind even as her long day's
journey had made her limbs weary. She was glad that Blind Seer had
enough to say for them both.

"The two-legs crossed through the gap today," he reported,
leading
her to a sheltered place where she might kindle a fire and soften the
rabbit he had caught for her over the flames. "What a trial they had of
it!"

"Tell," she prompted. "Can we look at them tonight?"

"Better if not," he said. "They have gathered
themselves into a circle and they have beasts with them who grow
nervous when I close. They have a creature with them, a bitch, but of a
breed I've never dreamed existed!"

"Oh?"

"Smaller even than the Cousins," Blind Seer said,
chewing on the rabbit fur and viscera she had tossed to him. "Her fur
is lighter than even the One Female's: white as a rabbit's winter coat,
but spotted fawn-like with fox-red. She is a weird parody of wolf or
fox, but there's no doubt that she knows when I prowl about."

"I'd like to see this creature."

"Not tonight. If you wish to study the two-legs, it is best that we do not spook them while they are weary."

"Weary from crossing the gap," Firekeeper asked, "or do they sleep as birds do, simply because the sun has set?"

"Weary from the crossing," Blind Seer replied. "Even
before dawn, they started taking down their dens, making their food.
They sear their meat as you do, over fire, but take much more time
about it."

Firekeeper cut off a haunch of still pink rabbit meat and began eating, leaving the rest over the fire.

"Tell on," she prompted.

"The two-legs have courage, I'll grant them that,"
Blind Seer said, "and even some wisdom, but no great forest lore. The
most skilled of them went ahead and marked a trail. The rest followed,
bringing with them the beasts."

"This spotted fox?"

"Not that," Blind Seer replied impatiently. "She went
with the scout and shivered when the wind brought her my scent. Other
beasts. Large ones built like elk in some ways, but with manes and
tails of long, soft hair—rather like yours is when you have not cropped
it short."

Firekeeper, who found the constantly changing length of her hair a nuisance, nodded.

"Why do they herd these elk? It seems a great deal of trouble to go to for fresh meat."

"They don't eat them—at least from what I've seen.
They sit on them or put their belongings on their backs. These two-legs
carry more with them than a raven or jay hides in its nest."

Firekeeper, remembering how she needed the Fang, the stones, the hides, just to stay alive, sighed.

"I will enjoy looking on these things of the two-legs," she said. "Tell more."

"There is not much more to tell. They sleep now, but
one of their pack remains awake to guard the rest. If trouble is
suspected—as I tested last night—they make a great clamor and all wake."

"Let them sleep," Firekeeper said. "We will look on them come morning."

She finished her meal and waded into a shockingly cold stream to wash clean. Then Blind Seer mouthed her arm affectionately.

"You will need to rest, sweet Firekeeper, but come
with me first. Let us sing home the news of your safe arrival. I have
found a rise from which the sound carries far."

Firekeeper went with him, refreshed, fed, and
excited. They raised their voices in chorus, heard their howls
augmented by the Cousins who marked this region for their own, and,
after a time, heard a faint reply to the west.

Even when the message had been passed on, they
continued singing, enjoying the sound of their voices intertwined in
friendship and in love.

U
PON WAKING THE
next
morning, Derian was pleased to find that the blisters on his feet had
ceased to throb. Still, he was relieved to learn that he had drawn camp
duty and
so would be able to trade riding boots for soft leather slippers.

"Did you hear those wolves howling last night?" he
asked as he stirred the morning porridge, adding bits of dried apple
and peach to the glutinous mass.

"Who couldn't? None of us are deaf," replied Race
sarcastically. "The monsters must have been readying themselves for a
slaughter. I'll bet Prince Barden lost his flocks within the first
winter. These woods are full of the thieving brutes."

"My brother was given to the Wolf Society when he was
born," commented Ox, "but even he prefers to appreciate wolves from a
distance. Such cunning and ferocity is admirable in symbols perhaps,
but I don't want to find them on my doorstep."

Over oat porridge and strong mint tea, they traded
tales of wolf predation. Race began with the story of the Mad Wolf of
Garwood. Doc countered with the story of a wolf pack that wiped out a
village one winter when Hawk Haven was but a portion of the larger
colony of Gildcrest. Everyone had at least one such story to relate and
the telling fired the blood for the day's work.

Eventually, however, Earl Kestrel began briefing them on the activities planned for the day.

"We will search in two teams. I will take Ox. Race,
you will take Jared. As we have seen no sign of Prince Barden and his
people to the east, I will go further north; you shall go to the west.
Based on your report yestere'en, there is a river to the south. Let us
wait to ford that until we must."

Race nodded and the earl continued:

"Derian and Valet will mind the camp. This is a good
time to attend to the minor repairs we have been postponing.
Furthermore, the horses can use a rest."

"How far from this base camp do you want us to go, my lord?" asked Race.

"You must return here by evening. We will each carry
hunting horns. Three short blasts will signal a return to camp. Two a
request for aid. Remember, if at all possible, save first contact for
me. Are there any questions?"

Five heads shook a negative.

"Get ready, then. Valet has made up packets of cold
food for the midday meal. If you have anything to be repaired, give it
to Derian."

A few moments later, in their shared tent, Derian accepted from Ox some leggings that needed mending.

"Earl Kestrel isn't wasting any time, is he?" he
commented. "Yesterday we slogged across a pass still spotted with snow.
Today he orders a full day's search, even though a holiday would be a
fair reward."

"You forget," Ox replied, checking the edge on the
axe he carried with him as both weapon and tool, "that our time here is
limited. Even if Race succeeds in augmenting our supplies by hunting
and fishing, we need fodder for the horses. It's too early in the year
for them to do much grazing."

"I haven't forgotten," Derian protested. "Remember, my folks own stables in three towns!"

"I know," Ox said mildly. "I simply didn't know that you did."

When the others had departed, leaving behind enough
chores to occupy Derian and Valet for a week, Derian sighed, regretting
now that his blistered feet kept him out of the adventure. Then,
sitting cross-legged on the ground, he took a torn shirt into his lap
and doggedly began to sew.

F
ROM THE CONCEALMENT
of thick shrub growth atop a rise overlooking the two-legs' camp,
Firekeeper studied the occupants. The animals amazed her, but her
response to their keepers mingled astonishment and admiration.

"They are so noisy," she said to Blind Seer, watching one of their number go to a stream for water. "Yet so bold!"

Blind Seer snorted. "What do they know to fear? The red-spotted white animal sees more than any of them, but they
ignore her. Did you see their One kick at her when she tried to tell him we were watching?"