Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (50 page)

“We
will come to you.”

Jeff
threw a look over his shoulder and saw the female lay down by her dead cub. His
path took him by the deer, and he gave it a kick in passing. It had all the
resilience of a piece of wood. No food for them there, he concluded. Frozen
solid.

While
the meadow was not large, light was entirely gone and it was easy to get turned
around. He stopped to mentally calculate each step.

“Damn
it, I should be there.” Jeff was no longer a greenhorn, but still found it hard
not to go kiting off in a new direction. “The ledge has to be nearby.” He took
another step and smacked his nose against rock. “Fuck a duck that hurts!”

The
sled was not far from the ledge and he went directly to it. Unfortunately, he
found it by falling on top.

“God
damn! This day really needs to end! Shit!”

By
the time he had a fire crackling under a rock overhang the snow was coming down
so thick it looked like a white wall. Lighting a limb full of pitch, Jeff found
his way to the wolverine carcass and stuck it in the snow. The torch was almost
used up and his tracks were hard to find when he finished skinning. Jeff was
feeling his way through the snowfall when his hand brushed fur.

“Jesus!”

“You
are well, wolf-brother?”
the female inquired from beside him.

“That
is a matter open to debate!”

He
dropped the pelt by the fire, loaded on new wood and directed the wolves to a
grotto-like niche. When he was satisfied with the fire, Jeff located some stout
limbs and pulled them over to the outcropping.

“We
will complete your den, wolf-sister.”

Jeff
propped the limbs over the wolves’ grotto. Lashing boughs to the poles, he
created a serviceable lean-to.

“Will
you and your cub share meat, wolf-sister?”

“We
would be honored. Hunting has been lean, and of needs we defended our kill.”

Deer
meat stashed on the sled was also frozen, but a stick pried open a way to the
center where it was not. Jeff knew how much a wolf could eat, and he hesitated.

“Oh,
screw it. They must be starving, and sure as hell need it more than I do.”

Loading
himself with fifteen or twenty pounds of venison, he set it down in front of
the wolves. While roasting his own meal, Jeff watched the wolves choke down
theirs.

“Lord,
they are hungry,” he murmured. “That was no more than an appetizer. All right,
Jeffrey, dig out some more and quit being such a selfish schmuck.” The second
offering was greeted with intense satisfaction.

He
waited until they were grooming themselves before speaking.
“How fares your
heart, wolf-sister?”

“She
was ours, now she is at rest. Her courage and spirit will never fade from
memory. It is done.”

Jeff
let matters drop. He understood it was not done, but that the cub’s death was
accepted without the need to ask why or place blame. The wolves found the
campfire fascinating and lay at the mouth of their den to watch it. After a
period of comfortable silence, Jeff decided it would not be indiscrete to ask
why the female was off by herself with two cubs.

“Your
pack is near?”

“We
are separated from our pack. A great river of snow fell on us high in the
mountains many suns ago. We have not been able to find their hunting.”

So
much packed into so few words, Jeff thought. Sounds like an avalanche either
cut them off from the pack or killed the rest. Finding game would be difficult
with only one of them an experienced hunter.

“Do
you rest well, wolf-sister? When sunlight comes, I will cleanse your wound.”

“We
are satisfied and will sleep well. We are grateful for the den and food you
have given us.”

There
was still work to be done before Jeff could turn in. He scraped fat from the
wolverine pelt first, then cleaned the revolver. Banking the fire, he wrenched
a good-sized plate of stone free from the ledge and set it on top of rocks
around the fire pit to keep snow out. When finally zippered into his sleeping
bag, Jeff relaxed with a grateful sigh. It had been one hell of a day. The fire
died down to embers and all was quiet on the land as snow drifted around the
ledge.

Several
feet of snow had fallen by the time a dirty gray morning slowly distinguished
itself from night. Freshening the coals with several sticks, Jeff put water on
to heat. He let it come to a boil then dumped in snow until it was the right
temperature.

He
was greeted courteously by the female when he set the pot down next to her. She
lay quietly while he scrubbed debris from the wound, patted it dry and spread
salve. When he was done, Jeff admired his handiwork. As he had hoped, snow had
drifted around the lean-to forming a snug den for the wolves. Snow continued to
fall in heavy silence and they spent the rest of the day and night holed up.

“Tough
going today,” he grumbled, peering out of the tent next morning, “and what am I
going to do about the wolves?” The female was wounded, and the yearling too
immature to be an effective hunter. Their outlook was not good. “No
alternatives I can live with. As usual.”

“The
sun has returned and I must leave this den. Will you and your cub join this one
until your pack is found?”

“We
are wounded and will prove a burden. Will you have such a one in this hard
season?”

Jeff
was moved by her willingness to be left and surely die.
“I do not travel
quickly. You and your yearling will prove no burden.”

“We
will join you. We thank you for accepting us.”

Back
in snowshoes, the going was slow and tiring as Jeff broke trail through soft
new snow heaving on the sled. The pace was so slow that the female had no
difficulty keeping up. She and the youngster ranged off to either side,
disappearing at times as they scouted ahead.

They
covered a wide swath of territory in this fashion, and it was not surprising if
still good fortune that the young male, whom Jeff named Balko, ran across a
herd of deer. Taking a firm hand, Jeff left no doubt in the youngster’s mind
that he was to wait for them to arrive. When they did, all three crept in close
to take stock. There were five deer yarded up in a meadow.

“Let
this one use the sharp stick that flies quickly to bring us a sure kill. When
it strikes, attack a different animal.”

Sneaking
in closer, Jeff selected a deer that appeared to be in reasonable condition for
the season and let fly. The deer gave one leap and collapsed. Before it tumbled
to the ground, Heideth charged into the meadow and seized a second deer by the
throat. Balko went for a third but wasn’t sure how to go about bringing it down
and it escaped into the forest. The wolves settled in to eat their fill at the
female’s kill while Jeff butchered the other deer. The pattern and partnership
became set over succeeding days as Friedrick’s Pack moved west, the female’s
wound healing nicely and Balko settling down under Jeff’s leadership.

Balko
was ranging far ahead when he discovered the first sign of Alemanni in the form
of a butchered deer. Jeff stopped at the carcass and found a seat on the sled
to consider his next moves. He also took the opportunity to explain what he was
trying to accomplish in terms that would fit wolves’ tendencies to relate all
motivation to serving the welfare of the pack.

“…Thus
if two-leg packs do not come together, these lands will be devoured by the
invaders.”

Jeff
glanced at the sun and gave up his comfortable seat. As they moved cautiously
along, it was clear the wolves were sorting through what he had conveyed. The
female, who Jeff decided he would call Heideth, was first to speak.

“The
ways of two-leg packs are strange to us, yet your tale of fierce invaders stirs
our concern. We understand that all must come together if any are to survive
what is to come.”

Relieved
that he had gotten his message across, and impressed with Heideth’s ability to
work it out so quickly, Jeff only hoped that the Alemanni he was soon to
confront would be as understanding. He suspected that was an empty wish.

Setting
up a secure campsite, Jeff removed the snowshoes and backpack in case things
came to a fight. Rather than reveal the saber, he attached it to his belt under
the fur coat and they left to find the village.

“These
are a strange people to this one, my welcome uncertain. Lie close in
concealment and come if my need is great.”

Heideth
understood what a hostile pack could mean.
“We will do this. We will come
even as you call.”

Located
close by the ice-choked Skola, Helstor was much larger than he had expected.
Pausing at the crest of a hill overlooking the village, he counted at least
eighty lodges.

“Well,
here we go. The last village, and probably the most dangerous.” Stepping out
into the open, he walked down the hill.

No
more than half way down the hill, a band of warriors brandishing spears jogged
to meet him. Jeff saluted them by sweeping off his hat.

“Greetings
from the Alarai, who return as is foretold.”

His
hair color had little effect. They muttered among themselves for some time,
none quite certain about anything being foretold. Several made threatening
gestures with their spears and advanced toward him. All but one stopped after a
few steps when Jeff made no move to run.

Shouting
a challenge to meet in combat and brandishing a battle-ax, the warrior took
several more steps in a fighting crouch. Jeff did no more than cross his arms
and stare at the youngster, for she could not have been more than seventeen.
Growling curses and shaking the battle-ax, she glared back.

Over
the winter, Jeff had gained a deep understanding of the Alemanni. The young
warrior would not attack unless he drew a weapon. The battle of wills that
ensued was brief and lopsided. Throwing a parting curse that suggested he was a
coward, she withdrew to the main body of warriors.

One
group wanted to forcibly evict Jeff, but the larger faction would not permit
it. If this man happened to be a passing god, their argument went, and they
forced him to leave, Helstor might be utterly destroyed in reprisal. That did
not bear thinking about. Besides, they asserted, the stranger likely had a good
story to tell. If he didn’t, well, they could deal with him later. Jeff was
escorted to the community hall.

The
chieftain emerged from the hall as they approached. Uh oh, Jeff thought. This
guy is not only young but also spoiling for a fight.

They
eyed each other for some time without exchanging words. Darkly suspicious yet
superstitious to a fault, the chief glared uncertainty. Before he could arrive
at a decision, the same warrior who had confronted Jeff forced her way to the
front of the crowd.

“This
is no man, but a coward. It is an insult to me that he was allowed into our
village. I demand a trial by combat.”

“That
is your right,” the chief replied at once. He turned away from the woman to
stare impassively at Jeff. “You will defend yourself or die.”

A
woman in her fifties stepped out of the meeting hall. “This is not proper. We
are not savages.”

“It
is Villka’s right, Mother. I agree with her. They will meet in combat.”

Drawing
herself up to stand straight and tall, the elder moved to stand beside Jeff.
“This man is an Alarai! Have you remembered nothing from the teachings of your
childhood and youth?” She whirled on the crowd. “Have none of you?”

Jeff
bowed to the elder. “I am honored to be in your presence and am humbled by your
strength of person. While I do not seek combat, neither am I loath to accept
it. A question has been raised that now must be answered by strength of arm.”

“Wolf-brother!
We sense you are in danger! Shall we come?”

“This
pack is indeed hostile. There will be single combat to determine courage.
Remain in my mind, see through my eyes, and come only if the pack should decide
to attack me.”

At
Heideth’s urgent call, the elder stiffened and stared at Jeff.
“You speak
mind to mind! It has been so long since I have had this pleasure!”

“May
I ask your name?”

“I
am called Mellia. Who or what manner of creature sought your mind?”

“I
am Jeffrey. My companions are great wolves.”

“We
shall be destroyed.”

“No.
I am an Alarai, but no god to make such a judgment. Now, before matters worsen,
I must deal with Villka. Perhaps she has given me an opportunity that words
could not duplicate.”

“As
you wish.”

Turning
away from Mellia, Jeff tossed his coat to the side, drew the saber with a
metallic ring and smiled at Villka.

“Shall
we dance?”

Shouts
of approval sounded from the crowd. The stranger had style! They immediately
pressed back to form an arena.