Wolf Captured (48 page)

Tedgewinn nodded. “Maybe one of those local allies you mentioned can help you set that up.”

“Good idea,” Wain said, adding a touch of flattery, “though I’d want you to check its soundness.”

“No problem,” Tedgewinn promised. “I’ll do anything you’d like if it will get me out of here and make me rich.”

“Even continuing to teach the bear-lady,” Wain said with a laugh. “We’re going to need to continue teaching, you know, otherwise they’ll get suspicious.”

“Even teaching the bear-lady,” Tedgewinn promised.

XX

SINCE THIS WAS ONLY THE SECOND TIME in her life that Firekeeper had beaten an adult wolf in a serious fight, her pride in her accomplishment was pardonable. However, she quickly came to realize that it was not so much that she had beaten Moon Frost that counted with the Wise Wolves, but something far more subtle.

“We had no doubt,” Neck Breaker explained, “that you were deadly. How could you have survived among wolves otherwise, with your soft human claws and blunt teeth? No. It was not that you defeated Moon Frost that proved to us that you are an adult, not a pup. It was how you did so.”

Firekeeper tilted her head in inquiry, thinking she understood, but preferring to hear the lesson from the old wolf’s jaws.

“Not only did you accept Moon Frost’s surrender when it was offered,” Neck Breaker went on, “but you gave her many hints that you would accept surrender if it was offered. That took courage, for to do so you forced yourself to hold back from a killing blow.”

“And,” added Blind Seer, wuffing out air through his nose, “that was very stupid. Moon Frost was near crazed. In her own pack she is second only to the Ones, but here in the greater pack she has repeatedly had to reassess herself. There are many among the females as strong or stronger than Moon Frost. I believe this is why she spent so much time with me. We are not in competition with each other.”

If this is what you wish to believe,
Firekeeper
thought dryly.
Then a new thought came to her,
Or is it-what you wish me to believe—that there was nothing there other than the insecure companioning the outlier?

Firekeeper had no wish to press the issue of Moon Frost’s courtship of Blind Seer—or his apparent interest in her attentions. Ever since the fight, Moon Frost had politely deferred to Firekeeper and pretended as if Blind Seer did not exist.

Firekeeper felt uncomfortable about this last. Had she been a wolf in form as well as heart, the fight would have gone a good way to declaring her interest in Blind Seer as a potential mate. That mating being impossible, it seemed that all Firekeeper’s anger had done was rob Blind Seer of a friend and possible partner. However, the blue-eyed wolf did not seem to mind Moon Frost’s new attitude toward him. Indeed, he was luxuriating in the status Firekeeper had gained through her victory.

The change was marked. No one treated Firekeeper as if she were some peculiarly shaped pup any longer. She had stepped into the ranks of the adults—the lower ranks, perhaps, but clearly those of the adults. Many of the yearlings deferred to her as a matter of course. The remainder of the gathered packs treated her with easy courtesy and open curiosity. As long as Firekeeper did not start acting like she thought herself above all of them, the informality of the joined packs would reign.

While overall wolves were governed more by caution than curiosity, now that the Wise Wolves had seen Firekeeper fight, they were fascinated by her technique.

“It is not like a wolf fighting,” Freckles commented, swishing her tail low so that Firekeeper would not take this as an insult. “You leapt like a jaguar onto a deer, then used your feet to kick and pummel as might an elk. Yet for all of these other tactics, you didn’t forget your Fang, not for a moment.”

Firekeeper did not deny the truth of this, but did not pursue the matter. Blind Seer didn’t feel nearly as shy.

“It takes skill to fight a two-legs,” he bragged, “even a lesser one. When that two-legs is a wolf as well, the combination is as potent as a rattlesnake’s venom. I have frequently practiced fighting with Firekeeper and have learned much that keeps me alive when I must fight humans.”

After Blind Seer made his brag, Firekeeper received many invitations to wrestle, but she accepted few. She knew all too well how roughly a wolf could play. Even Blind Seer, who knew her vulnerabilities and took them into account, had repeatedly left her scored and scraped. Firekeeper made certain her refusals were expressed humbly, so that rather than seeming too proud to tussle, she showed proper awareness of her relatively junior status in the packs.

Firekeeper worried that her refusal to wrestle, no matter how carefully presented, would rob her of hard-earned status. Among wolf packs, mock battles were the most elementary way that the complicated status hierarchy was established. However, a few days after her fight with Moon Frost, Cricket provided Firekeeper with all the reassurance she needed that her place as adult was secure.

The old wolf came over to where Firekeeper and Blind Seer were drowsing against the heat of the day. They had spent the cooler morning investigating one of the nearby ruins, where they had found a new area, full of mosaic pictures. Even as she drowsed, Firekeeper’s mind played with the troubling images and tried to make sense of them. She wished so many pieces had not been missing or that she knew some way to make sense of the bits of tile, glass, and stone scattered on the ground so she might gather them up and return them to their places.

“Firekeeper, you have expressed interest,” Cricket said, when all the tail-sniffing and other greetings were concluded, “in taking a turn as nursemaid to the pups. We are planning a great hunt tonight, and wonder if you are still willing to watch the pups.”

Firekeeper nodded, then remembered that this human gesture might not be commonly understood here.

“I would be interested,” she said. “However, I haven’t met most of the pups. Will they accept me?”

“Pups are more accepting than are adults,” Cricket replied, “and though you have not met them, they have watched you from the shelter of the nursery, as they do all the adults. You will not be a complete stranger to them.”

Firekeeper felt warmed by this automatic acceptance of her adult status, and leapt to her feet, signaling her willingness to follow.

Blind Seer thumped his tail against the dirt

“Although I will join the chase tonight,” he said, “I, too, would like to meet the pups. Is this permitted?”

Cricket’s ears flickered back and forth, but then she huffed agreement.

“Do come. What your pack mate sees would come to your ears in any case.”

Firekeeper felt a thrill of foreboding in her gut. Something was not right here. Wolves doted on their pups, but Cricket’s posture did not hold the smug pride that would be common in such a situation.

Blind Seer had sensed Cricket’s hesitation as well, but he was too interested to turn back now that he had permission to accompany them. No matter how often he chided Firekeeper for her curiosity, he had his share as well.

They crossed the elk meadow to a hollow that had been chosen as nursery. It was a good place. Even from a distance Firekeeper could tell that it had probably served this purpose for generations. Large rock outcroppings offered a barrier against the puppies wandering too far, while providing ample shade. The rocks also offered raised perches from which adult wolves could watch both the surrounding countryside and the pups below.

The few scattered saplings and small shrubs within the nursery area itself gave additional shade, but were not large enough to have limbs sufficiently sturdy to support a predator. Long grass had been trampled down into a comfortable mat, and provided concealment in which the puppies could play stalking games. There was even a small spring, slightly muddied from enthusiastic use, but sufficient to need.

At the edge of the nursery area, the trio were met by Grey Thunder, One Male of Cricket’s own pack.

“Grey Thunder will be in charge tonight,” Cricket said. “As you may know, he sliced open the pad of his foot a few nights ago. The damage is not quite healed.”

“I could run on it if I must,” Grey Thunder said gruffly, “but there are hunters here aplenty so I will take my ease.”

“I will be watching the pups as well,” Cricket continued, “along with another wolf you have met—young Rascal.”

Firekeeper didn’t think it coincidence that her first night on nursemaid duty would be shared by two with whom she was already comfortable. It was a little courtesy, one meant to make her feel at home, and she made certain they saw her pleasure.

“How many pups are there?” Firekeeper asked. “I have lost track of which packs arrived with litters.”

Firekeeper’s wolves had always been careless about larger numbers, and the Wise Wolves proved no different.

“A good many,” Grey Thunder replied. “At least five packs came, and most brought pups born this spring. All of the pups are weaned—not that some don’t still try to nurse. Hit them if they start on you.”

Firekeeper needed no warning on this point. She knew how puppies could forget they had teeth when they grew eager to suck. In her case, fingers were what usually were damaged, but male wolves had even more delicate parts that were vulnerable. From how Blind Seer rose momentarily onto his toes, she could tell he had not forgotten either.

Cricket snorted, and led the way into the hollow. Immediately, they were the center of a whining, fawning mass of grey-furred puppies. The adults responded to the whined pleas by regurgitating part of their earlier meal. Firekeeper contributed by picking up a few fluffy pups from one scrabbling mess and depositing them near a yet unnoticed heap of semidigested meat.

It was then that she noticed that there was something wrong with one of the pups she held. It was a young male and his otherwise chubby robustness was foreshortened. Simply put, half of his tail was missing. As Firekeeper set him down, she tried to see what injury had taken the tail, but there was no sign of injury. The tail simply was not there.

She glanced at the pups and noticed another with a deformity, a thickening to the skull that made the pup heavy and awkward. A third pup limped—a thing she had overlooked, for puppy games were rough, but now she saw that his foreleg was twisted like the trunk of a tree that had grown in high wind.

Firekeeper heard a low growl from Blind Seer and felt him press against her leg, whether in apprehension or protectiveness she couldn’t tell. In some situations, there really wasn’t a great deal of difference between the two impulses.

Firekeeper looked for Cricket and Grey Thunder. The two Wise Wolves were studying them, and Firekeeper felt very sharply how she and Blind Seer were outsiders.

“What is this?” she asked. “What illness has come to these little ones?”

Cricket studied her for a long moment, then she sighed.

“Since you insist on acting like a breeder intent on staking out a mate, you are old enough to know, but it is not a pretty story. Come outside the hearing of the little ones.”

Firekeeper and Blind Seer did so, and when they were all comfortable on a rock-shaded area overlooking the nursery, Cricket turned to Grey Thunder.

“Some are your children,” she said. “The story is best begun by you.”

Grey Thunder’s hackles rose as if he scented something dangerous, but he did not refuse—though his silence was so prolonged that Firekeeper thought he might be about to do so.

“Does nothing like this happen among your own pack?” Grey Thunder said rather cryptically. Then he looked more directly at Blind Seer, “Are you one of many blue-eyed wolves in your line?”

“I am the only one I have ever met,” Blind Seer replied. “My father says that occasionally a blue-eyed wolf is born into his birth pack, but this happens so infrequently that he had never seen one until my eyes did not turn when those of my littermates did.”

“But the seeds for those blue eyes are planted in your family line,” Grey Thunder said. “Were you to father pups there is a chance one of your get would also have blue eyes.”

Blind Seer chewed the edge of his paw for a moment, considering this.

“I suppose so.”

Grey Thunder huffed indignantly. “Do you know anything of how father and mother both contribute to the characteristics of their young?”

Firekeeper interrupted. “This matter was never discussed in our family, at least not in my hearing. All that was said was that it was good for the strongest in the pack to parent the pups because then the pups would be strong.”

“And is that all you know?” Grey Thunder asked.

“That is all I heard when I was only with wolves,” Firekeeper replied. “When I came to humans I learned more. One human of the family that adopted me kept dogs. Do you know what dogs are?”

“I do.”

“Well, Edlin was forever trying to get his bitches to bear pups with qualities that were considered useful. His dogs were especially skilled at hunting birds and small game. Edlin was always talking about matching some bitch possessed of some quality—say, good hearing—to a dog with good ‘bird sense.’ I found this very confusing, but Edlin talked about it enough that I got some idea of what was involved.”