Howl of the Wolf (Heirs to the Throne Book 1) (22 page)

The Elders stirred. 
Report, Kriegen of the Forest Guardians
.  A massive white wolf shifted on his haunches, his ghostly eyes riveted on Kriegen.

Kriegen fought the desire to cower and held his ears erect. 
We followed the humans to the great stone caverns on the plains.  The evil one set a trap for Donovan, the human pack leader, but we helped him avoid capture.  Later we watched as Donovan fought his rival for the crown.  A shocking event occurred.  The dying king forced his mind upon Donovan and killed his enemy using Donovan’s body.
 

Kriegen projected memories of the events, immersing the Elders in the savagery of the experience.  They felt the power of King Halder’s mind as it dominated Donovan’s body and sought revenge.  Afterwards the council sat in silence, their postures rigid, their expressions shocked.

Kriegen continued,
Powerful minds exist in a few humans.  The evil one thrusts his will upon weaker humans but Donovan is a good creature.  He intends to rule as king until he teaches humans to govern themselves.

A large gray wolf stepped close.  Kriegen flinched, feeling the powerful presence of the old minds that touched him. 
The law is clear.  It forbids forcing a host to accept minds.  Hosting must be voluntary!
  Hundreds of ancestors repeated the law inside Kriegen’s mind like an echo.  He cringed under the force of their combined energy.

The tan wolf snarled. 
We must punish lawbreakers.  Humans are dangerous!  Our ancestors remember how evil humans captured entire packs and forced evil on the minds of gentle wolves.

Silence!
  The black wolf commanded. 
We remember our history!  Human scientists gave us longer lives and taught us to pilot this ship.  We escaped Earth with their help and we must protect weak humans from the evil within their species.  Ask your ancestor minds.  We once guarded humans on Earth.  They sent us on a great journey to this world and saved our packs. Now we must serve humans again.  We will help Donovan’s pack survive. 
The black wolf tilted his head back and broke into a loud howl.  Other Elders joined his voice and soon a hundred voices filled the chamber. 

The Forest Guardians must guard Donovan and his pack.  Keep him safe from the evil one.
  The black wolf stared into Kriegen’s eyes—the golden color was a mark of their kinship. 
This is a most important task.  Other packs will join your vigil, watching the camps where the evil one dwells.  Be cautious.
 

The white wolf joined the black. 
Evil is quick to spread and humans are weak creatures, easily corrupted.

The tan wolf’s hackles bristled. 
Report violations of the law.  The Council of Elders cannot remain patient with those who spread evil.  We will obey the law and enforce its rule.

Kriegen felt overwhelmed by the onslaught of information.  He said,
The Forest Guardians accept your assignment.  We will guard Donovan’s  pack and keep the council informed.
 

During the journey back to his cave, the oldest ancestor mind told him stories about ancient wolves.  Kriegen welcomed the knowledge, feeling eager to reach the pack and share the story with Tendra.  Reaching the summer cavern, his spirit lifted.  He enjoyed his cubs’ exuberant greeting. 

Tendra finally shooed them away. 
Food waits.  Youngsters, leave your father in peace while he eats.
  The cubs ceased their discord and tried to walk away calmly, but they suddenly galloped out of the cave.  Kriegen settled by Tendra and gnawed on a thick slab of meat.

Tendra’s eyes sparkled in the firelight, tail twitching, and ears flicking.  Kriegen knew her humor would dissolve if he waited too long to convey the news. 
The council assigned the Forest Guardians to protect Donovan and his pack.
  Tendra stared as he shared his knowledge about good humans helping wolves escape Earth.
Mind-tampering is forbidden by the law.  We must protect Donovan’s pack from the evil one.

Kriegen scratched his ear, waiting for Tendra’s reply.  She rose silently and walked to the cave entrance to watch their cubs play. 
Our ancestors tell us that humans hold the key to our past and the future of our cubs.
She turned golden eyes upon him with a solemn expression. 

The hair along Kriegen’s back prickled as she mentally shared a vision of their future. They saw tongues of fire descend from silver sky-creatures, dragons with humans riding their backs, and Donovan shouting a battle cry.  In the visions, Donovan and his family played a significant role in a drama still to come but wolves were the key to his success.

The spaceport resembled a ghost town.  Bryant watched as Dr. Alexander wandered through mangled spaceship ruins, searching for mendilium crystals.  The doctor, intent on his search, didn’t look at the riders gathering along the ridge above them.  Bryant warned, “Doctor, we’ve got visitors.”

Alex nodded.  “I know.  They won’t bother us.”  He kept searching through the rubble, apparently unconcerned.

“How can you be sure?”  Bryant’s experience with desert riders justified anxiety.

Dr. Alexander examined a rock carefully, finally slipping it into his pocket.  “I hear their thoughts.  Jarrack assigned them to watch us, but they won’t disturb our activity inside the spaceport.  The men are nervous—fearing their gods might strike them down for allowing us free reign on a sacred site—but their fear of Jarrack is stronger.  His revenge is certain while the gods might be more sympathetic.”

Bryant glanced at riders sitting in plain sight on the ridge.  Their curved swords glinted ominously in the sun.  “All the same, we’d better quit this place soon.”

Dr. Alexander’s pale eyes scanned the wreckage.  “Two years ago we destroyed the Zebulon and my life’s work.  I could accomplish a lot of good on Drako using modern medical equipment!”

“People won’t accept your technology.  The thought is so abhorrent they’d choose death, specifically your death.”

Alex sighed and rubbed his stiff back.  “It’s frustrating.  I should quit sniveling about lost chances and get on with my research.  Let’s join Trenton in the storage cavern.” 

Bryant felt relieved.  He didn’t relish tempting arrows, regardless of the doctor’s mind-reading ability.  During the last two years, he accepted mental communication between Donovan and his friends but hated relying on non-verifiable information in security matters.  As the leader of the combined desert tribes, Jarrack was swiftly becoming a formidable foe.  Was Jarrack cunning enough to use false thoughts to fool the doctor? 

Trenton emerged from the cave.  “Wish we could take more.  We’ve got so many useful items stored away.” 

Bryant cringed as he glanced into the cavern filled with offworld machinery, not immune to the superstition of his world.  The doctor eyed him thoughtfully and Bryant flinched.  Was the doctor reading his mind? 

Alex rocked back on his heels, looking serious.  “Don’t tempt fate, Trenton.  Donovan authorized us to secure medicine and data.  I advise you to replace any items you’ve secreted away.” 

Shocked at the doctor’s accusation, delivered in his usual blunt manner, Bryant started to object.  Trenton laughed.  “I could never pull one over on you, Doc.  No harm meant.  I was just taking a few souvenirs.”

“We don’t have time for games.”  The doctor frowned, and a deep crease formed between his eyebrows.  “Acquaint yourself with the visitors along the ridge.  They’ve got orders to confiscate any offworld weapons and deliver them to Jarrack.  I doubt you’d willingly supply an enemy with an unfair advantage.”

Trenton examined the increasing number of riders. 

Bryant said, “The doctor says they’re under orders not to harm us but…”

The doctor hefted an ordinary-looking doctor’s satchel.  “They plan to search us thoroughly as we leave the spaceport.  I’m sure they’ll confiscate weapons using any means necessary.”

Trenton frowned.  “I can’t take my charts?”

“Charts?  What good are charts if we can’t take a space voyage?” Dr. Alexander asked.

“Not space charts.  These are maps of the topography of Drako, very useful to Donovan.”  Bryant felt impressed by Trenton’s sincere demeanor as he made his case.  “Maps are as useful as books on medicine.”  Trenton stood his ground, hands on hips and chin jutting out.

The doctor pondered.  “Maps could be useful…but if they fall into Jarrack’s hands…” 

Trenton smirked.  “Do those ruffians look like intellectual types?  If Jarrack said to take weapons, do you think they’ll even glance at my maps?”  

“He makes a good case,” Bryant agreed.  “My men prefer to follow precise orders rather than make decisions themselves.  With Jarrack absent, the riders might overlook drawings.”

“All right but stow the rest, quickly.”  The doctor surrendered. 

Trenton emptied his pack in the cave.  Bryant marveled at dangerous-looking things tumbling out of the bag but felt baffled as to the practical use of each item.  “That’s all the weapons I commandeered,” Trenton grumbled.  The doctor scrutinized Trenton’s face.  Was he reading the man’s mind?  Trenton held his ground, smiling. 

Bryant said, “Let’s ride.  I’d rather not be stuck in desert rider territory after dark.  Orders might not count if no one can spot the man doing the killing.” 

As Trenton activated the force field, the horses skittered away from the shimmering blanket of air.  Bryant automatically gestured a sign against evil as the cave’s entrance disappeared, looking like a solid wall of granite. 

“Quite a trick,” Bryant said, trying to sound light-hearted while yearning to escape the eerie place.

“You’d never believe the gadgets I’m forced to leave inside,” Trenton said as they rode out of the basin.  Trenton slouched in his saddle, trying to look bored and unconcerned.  Stiff-backed, Dr. Alexander rode with cool detachment.  Bryant fidgeted in his saddle, beads of sweat on his upper lip.  Mentally cursing his nerves, he refused to let desert riders see him wipe his mouth like Sir Hembly dabbing with a lace handkerchief. 

They didn’t wait long.  Outside the spaceport, riders encircled their horses, blocking both escape and retreat.  Bryant controlled his agitated mount and surveyed the enemy, noting weapons, armor, and fighting positions.  Although outnumbered, Bryant’s military bearing shouted danger to experienced riders. 

“Why hinder messengers of the king?”  Bryant bellowed.

A scar-faced rider edged forward.  “Messengers?  The king sends greetings to spacer ghosts?” 

Bryant mentally dubbed the rider Scarface and huffed, “It’s none of your business where the king’s messages go.  Do you forget lessons of the past?” 

Scarface winced.  Stories of Donovan’s first meeting with the desert riders grew with each telling.  Having heard the story from Donovan’s own lips, Bryant embellished the facts as he often repeated the story.  After all, it was his duty to enhance the image of his king.

“We’ve got orders,” Scarface said.  “You must not remove sacred objects from the land of the gods.  We will search your packs.”  Scarface nodded and two men approached.

“We hide nothing,” Dr. Alexander said, opening his bags.  “As the Royal Physician, I carry only medicine and books.” 

The rider peered into the bag, his eyes wide with fear.  The king’s shaman surely possessed evil spells to strike the unwary dead.  Trenton opened his pack.  His eyes gleamed as the riders failed to examine meaningless papers folded neatly inside.  Bryant carried a soldier’s normal kit.  The riders shrugged and Scarface glared.

“I warn you!”  Bryant’s voice cut through the grumbling like cold steel.  “Let us pass or feel the king’s wrath.  Forshell once tasted Donovan’s sword and forfeited his life.  Lesser men might suffer a worse fate!” 

The men gestured signs against evil.  Spurring his horse, Bryant parted the riders by the force of his bearing.  Trenton and Dr. Alexander followed quickly, avoiding the wild stares of the unhappy tribesman.  They rode hard, eager to put distance between themselves and Jarrack’s men before dark.

******

Peld entered Jarrack’s tent, his shoulders drooping.  Jarrack growled, “What did you find?”

“Nothing, sire.  They carried medicine and papers, no offworld weapons.”  Jarrack stiffened, his black eyes glowering.

“Fools!  They smuggled weapons past you.”

“Sire, I assure you!  They carried nothing of a size to hide such weapons, no pack animals or large bags.”  Peld trembled, awaiting Jarrack’s punishment.

“They sought something valuable, risking the law.”  Jarrack frowned, unable to grasp the reason behind such a dangerous journey.  “Describe exactly what you saw.”               

Mildly reassured, Peld rubbed the scar on his cheek.  “The doctor carried small bottles filled with colored liquid and a black pouch containing a few small stones.  The one called Trenton carried large folded papers marked with colored lines.  Otherwise they possessed normal gear, bedrolls, food, and drink.”

“Maps!”  Jarrack hit the table with his fist.  “Those papers were maps!  Why didn’t you confiscate them?”

Peld’s eyes widened and his scar turned scarlet.  “You spoke of weapons!  We saw no reason to brave the king’s wrath for papers or potions.” 

Jarrack scowled.  “Send word to our spies in the castle to get their hands on those maps.  I won’t let Donovan know more of this world than I do.  Leave before I strip the hide from your miserable back.”  Peld scampered out of the tent.

Jarrack stared at the locked chest and blessed his good fortune.  By failing in the first attempt to use the weapon, Forshell was killed.  Now, as the chief of the desert riders, Jarrack’s influence grew daily.  “I’m building an army and forging alliances, Donovan.  In time I’ll be ready to attack.”  He stroked a long black mustache, grown in the fashion of desert tribesmen.  “Soon I will bend Krystal to my will.”  He leered at the woman who entered carrying a tray.

“You are new to my tent.  Peld sends a choice morsel to soothe my temper, I see.  Did he tell you what makes me happy?”  Her dark eyes widened in fright, and her hands shook as she poured his drink.  “I see you’ve heard about my games; well this may prove a fine night after all.” 

******

Bryant pressed on after dark, searching for signs of danger.  He eyed the doctor, whose long legs dangled from the stirrups while he slept in the saddle.  How could a man unaccustomed to horsemanship manage to sleep and ride?  Trenton rode like a man born to the saddle, his cunning mind working on schemes.  Bryant felt grateful Trenton remained loyal to Donovan.  His crafty mind foiled several plots against the throne before anyone else sensed danger.

“Bryant, there’s something I’ve wondered,” Trenton said.  “You’re not frightened by telepathy?”

“Telepathy?”

“You know, the mind-speech Donovan and the others use.”

“Telepathy.”  Bryant formed the word in his mind to remember it later.  “I don’t frighten easily.”

“Come now, most men brand mind-speech as witchcraft, yet you didn’t flinch when Donovan first told us the wolf spoke to his mind.  I personally thought we’d lost you with that one.”

“Indeed, a wolf speaking surprised me, but I’ve lived through such revelations.”  He scratched his head, trying to decide how much to tell.  “King Halder used telepathy.  I assume he learned the skill when living offworld.  It gave him an advantage among the Lords.”

“Halder lived offworld?”

Bryant nodded.  “As a youth he was taken offworld during the war.  He described your technology of giving a man longer life—Transfer he called it.  He told many strange stories and taught me to overcome my fear of technology.  King Halder reigned with great wisdom so it didn’t surprise me when Donovan possessed the same skill.”

“You’re full of surprises, Bryant.”

The warrior laughed.  “Not half as many as you.  Where did you hide the weapon?”

“Weapon?”  Trenton’s face formed a well-practiced expression of innocence.

“The weapon you smuggled from the cave, avoiding the doctor’s mental scrutiny, and deceiving the dull eyes of those riders.”

“Oh!”  Trenton rubbed his chin, casting a sidelong glance at Bryant.  “It’s a very clever tool.  I told the doctor I didn’t carry a weapon, which was actually the truth.”  He separated the lining of his thick leather belt and retrieved a slender silver object.  “Behold a laser!  This tool emits a beam of light that cuts through stone.  I’ll use it to build my mountain retreat.”

Bryant scrutinized the tool.  “That little thing?  It looks harmless enough.  You swear to use it only as a tool?”

Assuming a solemn expression, Trenton nodded.  “A single man can’t hollow out tunnels.  I can’t live in the castle forever, hate living in spaces filled with too many people.  This laser is safe in my hands, believe me.”

“How can I accept telepathy and turn a sour eye on a man’s tool?”  Bryant knew that sharing Trenton’s secret forged a valuable bond.  Someday he may need Trenton’s unusual skills, perhaps even an outlawed tool, to protect Donovan.  His duty remained with his king, not to upholding rules written by men long dead.  “I’ll keep your secret, unless you give me reason to doubt your word.”

“I swear I’ll never employ the laser as a weapon…unless you personally clear its use.”  Trenton’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Good enough.”  Bryant shifted in his saddle, his hand resting against the sword hilt.  “You can’t back a mountain man against a wall without losing part of your body.  I feel like you’ve just taken my right hand.”

“Let me replace it with mine.”  Trenton offered to shake Bryant’s hand.  “It’s yours whenever you need it.”  Bryant gripped Trenton’s hand, feeling compelled to trust the man.  He didn’t understand exactly why.