Howl of the Wolf (Heirs to the Throne Book 1)

HOWL OF

THE WOLF

Heirs To The Throne

Book One

By Diane Rapp

Dedication and Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to the real Kriegen, a German Shepherd Dog, and the best companion his humans could ever desire, intelligent, loyal, and patient.  We often felt he read our thoughts.  When we gazed into his eyes, we knew he tried to send us mental messages.  We’ll miss him always.

My deepest thanks go to my sister, Vivian, and my best friend, Linda.  Over the years they’ve read my novels (in progress) and always encouraged me to continue my efforts.  In particular they both told me to go back to my science fiction series.  Although they didn’t read science fiction, they enjoyed these stories and wanted me to keep working on them.  I also want to thank my husband, Corey.  He tolerated my ups and downs and told me to keep trying after I’d given up my writing.  Thanks to my daughter, Laura who is designing my webpage (quicksilvernovels.com) and helps me navigate the world of social marketing.

Disclaimer

The character of the wolf was inspired by my dog.  Kriegen couldn’t help me describe the planet Drako (but I’m sure he tried).  All the other characters in the book are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.  To my knowledge there is no company or scientific group like the “Institute” described in my book.  I used the name fictitiously with no intent to disparage scientific research into cloning.

Publisher:  Diane Rapp

Copyright © 2011 Diane Rapp

All rights reserved
.  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be used, reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or distributed by any means (electronic, photocopied, recorded, or mechanical) without prior written permission of the copyright owner and publisher of this book except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

(Click to go to any chapter)

1 ~ Landing ~ Earth Calendar 2450

2 ~ In Space ~ Earth Calendar 3155

3 ~ On Drako ~ Earth Calendar 3155

4 ~ Medical Spaceship Zebulon

5 ~ Journey to Drako

6 ~ The Crystal Chamber

7 ~ Landing on Drako

8 ~ A Visit to Prosperity

9 ~ Havenshire Castle

10 ~ Tournament for the Crown

11 ~ The Crystal

12 ~ The Horse Race

13 ~ Chella’s Mistake

14 ~ King Halder’s Revenge

15 ~ A New King’s Remorse

16 ~ Two Years After Coronation

17 ~ Heirs for the Throne

A Note From Diane Rapp

PREVIEW ~ THE HAVENSHIRE RESISTANCE, Heirs to the Throne, Book 2

PREVIEW ~ DRAGON DEFENSE, Heirs to the Throne, Book 3

About the Author

The dark moon joined its bright sister, its gentle warm rays coaxing night-blooming flowers to open.  Kriegen surveyed the forest floor from a rocky ledge quivering with anticipation.  Tail swishing, he tilted his ears in the direction of each new sound.  The scent of fresh game drifted on a balmy breeze, and Kriegen’s nostrils flared.  He identified the prey with a satisfied snort.

Tendra joined him, her eyes alive with excitement
.
Do we hunt or enjoy the view?
 
She asked mentally.  Flicking a long pink tongue over her wet nose and gleaming canines, Tendra twitched with nervous energy.

Tendra did not coddle her mate.  As leader, the entire pack waited impatiently for Kriegen’s signal.  His imposing size, agility, intelligence, and uncanny intuition enabled the pack to harvest the bounty of the forest.  The pack thrived and challengers feared him, ensuring his senior rank in pack matters.

We hunt,
Kriegen replied. 

Hot-bodied game glowed in Kriegen’s night-vision.  He flicked his ears and howled.  The pack joined him with discordant voices rippling across the valley—a terrifying chorus that sent animals scrambling for shelter.

The pack spread out, moving as component parts of one body.  Blood pulsed in a rhythm matching Kriegen’s long strides.  Flowing down the steep descent into the wooded valley, he stepped silently, light, and swift, his dark body a flickering shadow that floated across a deep carpet of leaves. 

Tendra vaulted down the trail, outpacing Kriegen.  He restrained a snarl. After all, a bitch near her breeding cycle often outhunted the best of the pack.  Kriegen enjoyed watching Tendra leap ahead, her bushy tail wagging.  Let her enjoy the hunt.  A litter of pups would keep her in the cave through snowfall.  Protective of his mate, Kriegen followed Tendra, warning secondary males to keep their distance. 

A doe sprang from her hiding place.  Slender legs shining in the moonlight, her delicate hooves barely touched the soft leaves as she leapt first to the left then to the right.  Tendra anticipated each twist and turn, weaving through a maze of trees. 

Kriegen admired Tendra’s hunting skills with pride.  As a seasoned hunter, she killed with swift precision.  Without pausing to sniff Tendra’s kill, Kriegen plunged through the woods as a young buck with more energy than sense sprang from its hiding place.  The pack leader bared his fangs and vaulted after the wild-eyed buck.  He gained ground.  Kriegen’s night vision narrowed, fixed on the white tail bobbing ahead of his prey. 

Kaboom! 

Blazing hot light consumed the darkness overhead, and a screaming roar shattered the silence.  A fiery rock swooshed down from the sky, blasting a path through towering trees in seconds.  Kriegen hit the ground in agony, his hunter’s vision blurred, his nostrils burning from an acrid stench, and his fur singed by intense heat.  Blindly, Kriegen clutched the dagger strapped to his chest and slashed insanely at the enemy.

The pack yelped and whined. Gradually Kriegen’s vision cleared.  Fire scorched the forest leaving a wide path to the valley below.

Fire!  Fire from the sky!
  His mind shouted the warning to the pack.  Kriegen fought a desire to cower like a weakling cub.  A pack leader must not succumb to fear!  Forcing his ears to stand erect, he braced and moved to find the fire-creature.  Courage hardly more than an outward display, he followed the scorched path toward an eerie glow in the center of the valley.

Tendra joined him, ears flat against her skull. 
What is it?

The ancestor voices give us no advice,
Kriegen admitted. 
We must determine the nature of the fire-creature ourselves. 

Tendra’s surprise echoed Kriegen’s dismay. 
Unthinkable!  The voices never remain silent.
  They depended on ancestor wisdom, amassed over centuries of hosting.  The voices never failed…until now. 

We have no time to waste searching for guidance.  Mask your displeasure from the pack and behave like a leader,
Kriegen said.
 

Joined by frightened pack hunters, Kriegen and Tendra crept toward the light.  The large fire-creature lay quiet, like a silvery smooth boulder in a glowing hollow of burnt ground.  Flame sputtered from its tail.  Kriegen sniffed.  Smoke and ash fused with a bitter odor that burned his nose.  Intense heat stung his eyes and seared the pads of his feet.  The sky-creature hissed, crackled, and groaned as a crack opened in the side.  Shiny creatures emerged…walking on two legs.

Kriegen signaled the pack to retreat. 

Watching apprehensively from forest shadows, the pack observed the two-legs.  Sky-fire prevented scent, but the silvery creatures emitted strange crackling sounds and moved in stiff, jerky strides.

They look slick like fish,
Tendra said.

Kriegen added,
They grow no fur and their heads look hard like shells.
  The two-legs moved with purpose, much like the pack settling into a new den.  Kriegen settled back on his haunches. 
Prepare the kill for hauling to our den.  We wait here to watch these creatures.

Tendra left with several hunters.  They would prepare a litter to drag the meat back to the cave.  Kriegen felt relieved.  The young bitch that recently hosted the Tendra line would make a good mate. 

The sun appeared over the ridge before the two-legs emerged once more.  Having removed the shells from their heads and shed their shiny skins, the creatures appeared harmless and puny.  Kriegen shivered, sat upright, and sniffed apprehensively.  Their heads were covered by shaggy fur, but they wore thin pelts over hairless bodies.  Perhaps these creatures were workers, like the giant insects that constructed mud mounds on the plains.  The two-legs made noises like cubs barking, but Kriegen could hear no thought-speech. 

The Council of Elders must be informed.  The Elders hosted the oldest minds of all the packs and would surely provide the wisdom needed to face these strange new creatures. 
Konig,
he called mentally.

We are ready to serve,
Konig answered, quietly appearing at Kriegen’s side.

Journey to the Council and return with instructions.

Konig’s tail thumped the ground, and his eyes gleamed with pride
.  We will race like the wind.
Konig’s sleek silver body slipped through the trees.

******

Captain Holden eyed the terrain of Drako, the uninhabited fourth planet of a two-sun system.  The second sun, a glowing red-gas giant, orbited the primary sun like a planet and provided life-giving radiation to Drako.  Looking like a large red moon in the night sky, the second sun energized luxurious plant and animal life, making the planet ideal for colonization. 

Holden liked the view.  Assigned to build a spaceport in the lush valley of a high plateau, he knew farmers, merchants, tradesmen, and adventurers would soon transform Drako into a recreation planet.  Nostalgia prompted wealthy tourists to pay extraordinary prices to visit historical sites on Old Earth.  They would pay more to vacation on Drako.  This enterprise represented a huge investment to consortiums on Earth, planning to recreate historic periods where real people lived like their ancestors.  Life on a pastoral planet free of urban clamor attracted scores of volunteers.  Some of Holden’s crew opted for planetary assignment, hoping to live in the “good old days” free of technology. 

He felt tempted to settle down.  How long would tourists pay the exorbitant expense of vacationing on the fringe of space?  The lure of visiting castles occupied by knights in shining armor, desert palaces with sheiks in flowing robes, and rugged mountain fortresses manned by burly trappers dressed in furs might wear thin.  What would happen then?

Captain Holden watched his crew work.  The design of the spaceport provided modern travel facilities at a distance, keeping technology out of sight to preserve an old-fashioned ambiance.  Work ran smoothly, but something nagged at the fringe of Holden’s awareness.  The hair on his neck prickled and he stared into the forest shadows. 
Someone is watching!
he thought.

“Captain,” Ensign Jessup waited impatiently for his attention, “is something wrong?”

Holden shook his head to dispel the affects of an overactive imagination.  “What do you need, Jessup?”

“Permission to off-load the land tractors, sir.” 

The machinery essential for clearing the spaceport grounds must be put to work.  Holden’s gaze drifted back to the forest.  “Permission granted.  Ask Miss Donaldson to report on the double.” 

“Aye, sir.”  Jessup saluted, pivoted, and marched into the spaceship.

Miss Donaldson’s trim figure emerged within minutes.  She blinked against the glare of the sun and sauntered toward Holden.  He avoided her startling blue eyes, deliberately keeping his libido in check.  “You wanted me, Captain?”  Her silken voice spurred an ache in his body. 

He cleared his throat.  Could she detect how much he did want her?  He stared into the distance maintaining a stony expression.  “I sense something watching us.  I’m afraid the probes missed an intelligent life-form.” 

She sighed audibly and her voice assumed a lecturing tone.  “As zeno-biologist I examined the scans personally.  We found no buildings, electronics, communications, or organized concentrations of life-signs.  Intelligent life, if it does exist, is so primitive it doesn’t qualify for protection under established guidelines, sir.  You’re sensing curious animals watch our progress, nothing sentient.”

His anger flared.  “I’m no green spaceling trembling over shadows.  I’ve opened up new planets and learned to trust my gut.  Primitives can cause plenty of trouble.” 

A pained expression flickered across her face.  “I meant no disrespect, sir.”  

Regretting his tone, he said, “Sorry, I’d rather exercise caution when it comes to the lives of my men.”

A dazzling smile pierced his reserve.  “I’ll personally conduct an onsite examination of the area.”

“No!”  The word conveyed too much emphasis.

“What?”  She looked surprised.

“It could be dangerous,” he said, feeling his face color.

She patted the laser strapped to her hip.  “No wild animal will make a lunch of me!  As the zeno-biologist it is my job to scrutinize potential intelligent life-forms.”  She lifted her chin, her eyes defiant.

“Very well, but take some men with you.”  His voice sounded detached, as he clenched his jaw.  “In fact, I may join the reconnaissance.”

“Yes, sir.”  Her electric gaze held him transfixed.  “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to leave.”  He watched the uniform ripple over delicious curves as she walked away.

*******

The two-legs built strange wooden caves.  Intrigued by their method of swinging tools using forelimbs, Kriegen gripped his dagger and tried to swing it in a circular motion.  His joints prevented him duplicating the move.  He examined his forepaw.  The digits were long enough to grip a slim dagger, but he could see that the two-legs possessed longer digits designed for gripping tools.  If the creatures proved to be intelligent, perhaps they’d cooperate in labor.

Intelligent!  The hope faded quickly.  Twice Kriegen established mental contact with the leader but failed to communicate.  Perhaps the two-legs received thoughts at short range, like young cubs learning to speak.  Should he approach the leader closer?

Tendra approached cautiously, her tail tucked, ears flat, and nose twitching. 
Kriegen,
her mental voice filled with distress. 
We feel strange, frightened.
 

Kriegen sniffed. 
Consult your ancestors.
  Her eyes glazed as she searched within for advice.  Kriegen waited patiently, already aware of the answer she would find. 

Tendra’s eyes sparkled and she wagged her tail. 
Our mating season arrives.

The sound of a twig cracking alerted Kriegen. 
A stranger approaches.  He scents your readiness and risks his life.

A white wolf stepped into the clearing.

Growling, Tendra crouched and glared at the intruder.

Kriegen gripped his dagger. 
You are not of the pack.  Depart and we will spare your life,
Kriegen offered.

The white wolf’s fangs glistened. 
A bitch in season should not wander alone in the woods.

We are linked with this bitch through our ancestor minds.  Leave or meet your death.
   Kriegen growled, his blood boiling.

Perhaps the link will end upon the blade of my dagger.  She invites challenge.
  The white brandished a lethal blade.

Tendra’s eyes flashed. 
We will rip out your miserable throat!  This bitch will not be taken.

The white lunged, slashing wildly.  Kriegen reared on his hind legs and met the onslaught with bared fangs.  The two males crashed to the ground, rolling, growling, and thrashing in the deep carpet of decaying leaves.  Tendra cowered.  As the males fought, the madness consumed her reason and she lost control.  Prancing and howling she encouraged the males who fought with abandon.