The Dragon of Despair (31 page)

Once again she wondered where Blind Seer was. Wind Whisper had protected Firekeeper, but would she have extended the same protection to Blind Seer? She struggled to think of a way to ask after the blue-eyed wolf without implying that he was unable to watch after himself. Happily, circumstances made this unnecessary.

Head held low, nose to the ground, so absorbed in a scent trail that he was otherwise unaware of his surroundings, Blind Seer loped into the far end of the clearing. He brought himself up short when he noticed the three clustered across from him.

His ears flickered back and he panted in foolish surprise. Then he looked at Firekeeper.

“I was hunting near the ravine,” the blue-eyed wolf explained rather lamely, “when I caught an odd scent trail. I was nearly certain it belonged to our outlier kin, but some effort had been made to muddle the scents and though they ran parallel, they did not seem to run together. I followed the trails and, well…”

He stopped, sat, scratched vigorously behind one ear. Firekeeper thought with sudden amusement that if he had been human he would have shrugged.

Then Blind Seer raised his head and scented the air sharply. In two enormous bounds he was at her side, hackles raised.

“Who has shed your blood?” he demanded, but his glare was fixed on Northwest as if he suspected the answer to his query.

“Easy, dear heart,” Firekeeper said, curling her fingers in his ruff. “A misunderstanding, I think. Northwest wished to question me about my doings with King Tedric and forgot when he sought to wake me how fragile is my naked human hide.”

Blind Seer didn’t look convinced, but he seemed willing to accept this half-truth, especially since Northwest seemed quite contrite and Wind Whisper amused. Still, Blind Seer did not miss that Firekeeper’s Fang rested bare-bladed in her hand. Firekeeper knew she would need to give him a fuller account when such telling would not precipitate a brawl.

“And did you tell him what you have done?” Blind Seer asked.

“I hadn’t yet found the time,” Firekeeper replied. “Aunt Wind Whisper arrived and told us of her coming just at Northwest’s heels. Perhaps she would care to hear my tale.”

“I would,” the older wolf agreed, “since we have settled matters of rude awakenings, perhaps you should begin.”

“Let me go and wash this blood from my skin,” Firekeeper said, “and then I will tell.”

Leaving the three wolves to sniff tails and go through whatever posturing was needed to settle them into accord with each other, Firekeeper ran to a nearby brook. She was accustomed to always being at the bottom of any wolf hierarchy and so when she returned, bare from the waist up so that her vest might soak off the worst of the blood in the water, she was surprised to find that in ways subtle but unmistakable, Northwest deferred to her.

It was a new experience, as stimulating as her dip in the cool water had been. Firekeeper seated herself on the grass, head held high and proud, and began:

“Humans are not as wise as wolves, and so they do not always listen to their Ones. With this in mind, listen to my tale.”

She told them then of how she had implored Tedric to order Ewen Brooks and his settlers to leave the land west of the Iron Mountains, how Tedric had not only agreed to do so, but to issue a declaration making such settlements illegal.

“How can he do this?” Wind Whisper asked. “The land is not his to govern.”

Firekeeper twisted uncomfortably.

“Humans do not see it so,” she admitted. “They draw lines on paper and declare that all within those lines, whether or not they have walked that land, is their own. It is a custom,” she added, trying to make some excuse, “that they inherited from those who founded these colonies and one that helps them keep some peace among themselves.”

Northwest looked as if he wanted to say something rather nasty, but when Firekeeper caught his eye he humbled himself and only muttered:

“It seems foolish to claim what is not yours, but if it keeps them from fighting each other, I suppose the custom is of some use.”

“I think it is foolish also,” Firekeeper said, not willing to press her advantage to condescension. “I do not say I agree with them, only report how it is among humankind.”

Northwest swished his tail once to acknowledge her wisdom, and then Firekeeper went on:

“Now Tedric will need to send humans west in order that they may order the colonists to leave. If these humans do not make the crossing safely, then Ewen and his people will not know they have incurred their One’s wrath.”

Wind Whisper gave a lazy stretch and looked at Northwest.

“It might be possible to see that these messengers arrive safely—and without doing further harm.”

Northwest looked rebellious, so Firekeeper hastened on.

“Now Tedric has made another promise. He will command his people to build a small den—like this great one here in that it will have high and powerful walls—in which some of his soldiers will stay and turn back those who would cross the gap in defiance of his commands.”

“You did say,” Wind Whisper said, “that humans would not obey their Ones when they were out of sight. In that way,” and she looked slyly at Northwest, “they are not too unlike some wolves.”

“But,” Northwest retorted defiantly, “might not such a place be turned against us?”

Firekeeper hadn’t thought of this, but she tried to answer smoothly.

“It might,” she replied, “but what limits us to crossing the mountains through the gap? Humans need such wide breaches in the mountain wall for, as you have said, they cannot survive without many aids. Their horses and mules could not climb where wolf or bear or puma would go lightly.”

Northwest acknowledged her point but persisted in his criticism.

“Yet this is not the only such crossing point, only the easiest.”

“Is that so?” Firekeeper said. “Well, that is new to me and may be new to the humans. Once again, we know much more than they do. If there is worry that the humans will come through these other points, then we can set our own guards upon them. Surely,” she added, and her dark-eyed gaze was hard, “my pack should not bear the entire weight of protecting the west.”

Northwest swished his tail low in apology, but Firekeeper was not completely at ease with this persistent show of humility. She might have beaten him in a fight—but it was a victory assured because of Wind Whisper’s intervention. Firekeeper understood now why Wind Whisper had waited so long to show herself. Had she not, Northwest would have continued to think of Firekeeper as easy game. Now he would be more careful in his dealing with her—and that care would not always work in the wolf-woman’s favor.

“There is a price for King Tedric’s cooperation,” Firekeeper went on, knowing that the wolves would trust the king’s actions more fully if they had not emerged simply out of goodwill or prudence. Wolves fought their own both for precedence and respect. Something freely given was a sign of weakness—a puppy piddling on its belly out of fear of those larger and stronger.

“King Tedric would have me and Blind Seer join with some of his pack who are set to hunt down a renegade. This renegade is the same woman who stole the magical artifacts from Bright Bay last winter and from whom we ultimately stole them back.”

Firekeeper could tell from the differences in the two wolves’ postures that they had each heard the tale, but she thought that Wind Whisper knew more than did Northwest.

“This renegade has allied herself with another pack, the humans of New Kelvin. They are a pack which has much interest in magical lore. My sense of these New Kelvinese is that where magic is concerned they are like young bucks growing their first rack. They have sharp points, but not many and they have yet to learn how to make those points truly dangerous. If this human woman—Melina—has her way with them, she may transform them into lords of the forest with racks of many sharp points and the skill to make them pierce deep.”

Wind Whisper licked her nose nervously.

“Can one do this?”

“A strong leader makes a strong pack,” Firekeeper quoted from wolf lore. “And whatever else is said of Melina, she is a strong leader and has ways of making even the reluctant grovel before her and obey her will.

“It is for our people,” Firekeeper went on, “as much as for the humans that I agreed to hunt Melina. New Kelvin is a small land, much walled in stone. I think she might encourage a western press, for it would be far easier to go that direction—even with the mountains barring her route—than taking her neighbor’s lands.”

Blind Seer added, “And if Melina goes west, then she has also gained a route by which she can slip her hunters into her neighbor’s lands undetected, rather like a large pack that leaves a few strong hunters to spring out from where they will not be expected and where they will do more damage.”

Firekeeper thought about adding King Tedric’s concern for Firekeeper herself, his desire to get her away from this area at a time when her loyalty to the Beasts might be misinterpreted by humans. She decided that this would be unwise. Northwest, at least, already thought her capable of speaking from head and tail at once. No need to remind him—or to show him that humans distrusted her as well.

Wind Whisper and Northwest discussed what Firekeeper and Blind Seer had told them at some length, enough so that Firekeeper began to feel the weight of her interrupted sleep, heaped on top of the ebbing tide of fear and fighting, pressing down on her eyelids. She stifled a yawn with one hand.

“So you go north to hunt at the behest of this human king,” Northwest said, adding quickly when Firekeeper shifted her knife in her free hand, “and for our own people’s good as well. What should we do in turn?”

“Wind Whisper spoke well and wisely,” Firekeeper said, still startled to have the outlier look to her for wisdom. “Escort the human messengers—tracking them unseen and silent, as you have shown so well you can do. Thus the king’s word will reach his people and make their punishment or defiance a matter between humans, not between humans and Beasts.”

She ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she puzzled out a thought.

“If some of the wingéd folk were near,” she continued, “I would beg them to carry word to the Beasts of what King Tedric has agreed to do. Best that we do not give the humans any cause to change their minds regarding leaving our lands to us.”

“The peregrine Elation came east with you,” Wind Whisper said. “Where is she?”

“Ask the wind,” Firekeeper replied, quoting a proverb that ran, “Ask the wind, ask the rain. Empty howling and wet fur are all you earn for your pain.”

Blind Seer said, “Elation came with us, but flies her own course. She separated from us some days past. Perhaps she is with Derian. I think she has a fondness for him.”

“Perhaps,” Firekeeper agreed. “In any case, she is not the only of the wingéd folk who nest east of the Iron Mountains. My guess is that others are nearby. Surely we can seek out one or more of these and make them understand the need is not ours alone but of all Beasts.”

Wind Whisper puffed a bit of laughter.

“I think we can. I seem to recall hearing that a raven or two was considering nesting in these very castle towers.”

Firekeeper was not surprised—though she would have been a year before.

“The humans call the place Eagle’s Nest” was all she said, “but it would make a fitting rookery.”

She yawned, this time not bothering to smother it in her hand, though among wolves such could be taken as insult. Still, she thought that they must smell her exhaustion in her sweat and breath alike.

“Northwest interrupted my rest,” Firekeeper apologized, “and I am weary from all this talk. Humans do business by daylight and I must be rested if I am to speak well for us.”

She didn’t mention her throbbing throat. The ointment she had rubbed on it, part of a little jar she had from Doc, had helped, but she knew it would be days before the bruises healed. Idly, she considered how she would explain them to the humans. The truth wouldn’t do.

Blind Seer settled himself beside her. During all the talk he had remained bolt upright, and even now there was something of a guard in his posture. Firekeeper hid a smile. Northwest would hesitate to come within ten paces of her now.

“Sleep,” Wind Whisper agreed. “I am for hunting. This travel is tiring. Surely Blind Seer has left something for us.”

She gathered Northwest to her and they left.

Firekeeper pillowed her head on Blind Seer’s flank. She was considering telling him how things were with Northwest, but even as she was framing the words, she was asleep.

XII

THE DAY FOLLOWING
her rather uncomfortable discussion with Citrine, Elise took advantage of a cool afternoon following a thunderstorm to practice her archery. She’d promised Baron Archer she wouldn’t completely ignore her work with the heavier bow, but in truth she had let it slide.

This afternoon, however, Elise could find no excuse to avoid practicing any longer. Race Forester had come by to consult with Edlin regarding some puppies. The sight of the bow he wore slung from his shoulder had awakened all Elise’s latent guilt. Citrine was working on her elementary New Kelvinese vocabulary with Grateful Peace. Wendee was with them, having decided that the best way to polish her own command of the language was to relearn the basics.