Children of the Wolves (15 page)

Despite the thinness of her tunic, Jelena reveled in the feel of the cool air against her skin. She lifted her face into the wind. How glorious to get out and stretch her legs after being cooped up in the kitchen for so long.

She waved to the farmer, who was headed into the fields with a hoe over his shoulder, but didn't stop for a word. The riders were in the training area near the guardhouse, working on drills. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Danielle, obviously pregnant now, standing next to Michael. Jelena headed in the opposite direction. Just as well that Isolde's cabin was nowhere near the training area. She didn't want to run into Michael.

She walked past the kitchen gardens and the pens of grunting pigs near the compost pile. She paused to see if she could detect any sign of the wolves visiting the area at night. She thought she made out a series of small pawprints in the mud. Crouching, she placed her palm over one. It was smaller than the wolf tracks she ordinarily saw, so maybe it was another animal. Did the wild cats from the forest leave tracks like that? They were much more wary of the people than the wolves were but they might be growing bolder.

Near the northern edge of the village, Jelena spotted Isolde's cabin perched on a small rise. Jelena pulled up short in front of the walk to the front door. The cabin was quiet and had the abandoned feel of a space whose owner would never return. A shiver slid down her spine and made her wrap her arms around her chest. Empty. What made her think so, and why was the thought so disturbing?

“Isolde?” she called, her voice shaking on the word. She took a deep breath and steadied her nerve. “Isolde?” she called louder now. No answer.

Reluctantly, she forced her feet up the packed dirt path to the front door of the cabin. She lifted her hand to knock. The door swung open at her touch. No sound emerged from within.

“Isolde?”

Jelena walked through the small cabin but saw no sign of the healer. She went around to the back garden but saw no evidence that Isolde had been out there today. She retraced her steps, brooding. Isolde never left her cabin. Almost never, Jelena amended. Sometimes she did come to the main hall to attend a patient beyond the physician's skill. And surely she went to the river or to the bathhouse to bathe now and then.

Jelena left the cabin and began retracing her steps toward the river. Her foot slid in a patch of mud and she caught at a tree branch to keep from falling. This track would bring her right to the shores of the river rather than to the bluff overlooking it. This was the route the bathers and clothes keepers followed.

She could see the sunlight glint off the water and heard a splash.
Isolde
, she thought and hurried forward, then stopped in her tracks when she heard the low growl to her left.

Slowly, she turned. An adult wolf stood not six paces from her. The wolf's muzzle was not pulled back in a snarl, but it growled the low warning growl again.

Jelena stood still on the path, willing herself to take slow, even breaths. The wolf looked over at her, then sloped off down the trees a few feet away. When Jelena took a step forward, the wolf swung its head and growled the low growl again.

She's not trying to scare me
, thought Jelena.
She's not going to spring at me
. Jelena knew instinctively that the wolf would hold its body differently if she were in danger from it.
She's just trying to stop me.

Even so, she took a step away when the wolf padded forward, onto the path. It glanced over its shoulder, then turned to stare in the direction of the river.

Her way barred, Jelena backpedaled until she heard the low growl again. After the first surge of panic, she realized the animal was simply trying to communicate. To warn her that danger lay in the direction of the river.

Jelena took a quick step off the path and crouched low behind a tree. A moment later, a tall Sithan warrior loomed into view, coming up the river path. The wolf gave one final glance at Jelena, now hidden in the trees, and ran off.

A second Sithan joined the first, their tall shadows falling across the mud-slick path as they spoke briefly in low tones. Jelena couldn't hear their words. One gesticulated up the path while the other nodded. Jelena held her breath and hoped they couldn't see her as she squatted among the birch and the fir trees.

Finally, the two men turned away. A moment later, she heard the splashing of a canoe being launched on the river. When she was sure they were gone, she crept down to the river but saw no sign of Isolde.

• • •

“The elders think you're mistaken,” Michael said. He looked like he was barely reining in his temper. Jelena knew he wasn't mad at her.

“They can pretend all they want,” Jelena said. “But I know what I saw. I saw two Sithan warriors on our land, Michael. And Isolde hasn't returned.”

“I agree about Isolde. I'm worried about her. Matilda and some of the others are out looking, asking if anyone has seen her.”

“Thank you.”

“And I'll make sure the guards know to patrol all the way to the river,” he added. “Acceptable?”

“You would make a much better elder than the elders,” Jelena blurted out before spinning away in embarrassment.

“Makers preserve us from that, eh?” she heard Alaric say as he came up and slapped Michael on the shoulder. She didn't hear what else he said because she fled back to the kitchen.

There was no reason her friends couldn't come to the kitchen, sit at the worktable, and visit with her as she carried out her duties. But they didn't — not even Amy, whom Jelena had considered something of a kindred spirit.

So she was pleased that morning when Viktor came into the kitchen after breakfast, his guilty glance at Bertha intimating that she had scolded him for abandoning Jelena. Jelena didn't mind Bertha's interference if it meant she wouldn't have to feel so alone.

She wiped her hands on a dishcloth that she'd resisted embroidering with dragons and squeezed Viktor's hand. “It is so good to see you, my friend,” she said. He smiled, flushing slightly and mumbled something she couldn't quite hear.

“Would you like a cup of tea? I can take a few minutes to talk with you.”

Viktor gave an agonized glance in the direction of Bertha's back and said, “Would you come for a walk with me? I'm headed down to the river to find some reeds.”

Jelena knew that he used special reeds that grew along the banks of the river to shape into the mouthpieces he used on his flute. She'd accompanied him on this same task more than once before.

“That sounds delightful,” she said, then turned to Bertha. “I'll be gone an hour or two. Don't worry, I won't leave you to make the midday meal by yourself.”

Bertha waved her away. “Take your time. I managed before you came, you know.”

“Ay, but not nearly so well,” Jelena responded, pecking the older woman's cheek with a kiss.

Bertha smiled but said, “Shoo! 'Twill be good to get you out of my hair for a time.”

Jelena laughed. Taking Viktor's hand, she headed out the door. The morning was warm, the mellow sunshine working the knots of tension from her shoulders as they walked. The cool snap had ended after a day or two and no one spoke of the ginger root or of Isolde. Jelena had expected as much.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” she said. From Bertha she was learning to be more direct and to say what she thought but she had a hard time imagining saying something reproachful, such as
Why did it take you so long?
or
How could you abandon a good friend like that?
Bertha would have no difficulty whatsoever sharing those sentiments. Maybe someday Jelena would be as bold.

“I hope things are going well,” Viktor said haltingly. “I'm sure it's a bit difficult to adjust.”

Jelena smiled. “It is at that. But Bertha is kind. And I think I've done the right thing — taken some of the pressure off Michael.”

Viktor was silent for a moment and then he said, “I don't believe Michael ever thought of it as pressure.”

Jelena pretended to study the sky as her heart gave a treacherous lurch. “He has many obligations,” she said, though she wanted to cry out,
Tell me more! Does he miss spending time with me? Does he wish we could be together still? Has he said as much to you, and how did his face look when he said it?
But she wasn't brave enough to ask those questions. She wasn't brave enough to hear the answers.

“That he does,” Viktor said, studying her face. “Even now, he's working.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the training area, where Michael took his turn with the drills. As she watched, he stopped and spoke briefly with the two sentries he was working with, explaining some concept, encouraging them to try again, harder this time. He looked up and nodded distantly to Viktor and Jelena, but brought his attention back to the drill almost immediately.

“I don't envy him the boots or the heavy gear,” Viktor said as they turned in the opposite direction and headed toward the path to the river that Jelena had taken the day she spotted the two Sithan warriors.

She never mentioned the wolf with eyes the color of the precious topaz that the trader used to tell her about, how the wolf blocked her way and warned her about the Sithan warriors. No one would have believed that; it was too fantastic and it would have caused them to dismiss her claims about the Sithan warriors out of hand as well. But she wondered if the wolf would be there this time. Maybe it made its den near the river path. Her heart quickened hopefully.

Had Viktor heard about the Sithan warrior incident? The elders had wanted her to keep quiet about it and after Michael had agreed to increase the security along the river, she'd seen no reason not to comply with the elders' wishes. She might rail against them and their decisions, but she knew she was here on sufferance. She wasn't a full member of the community and never would be. She had no way to insist or force them to take action.

Jelena had not been frightened of the wolf after that first heart-stopping moment. The same could not be said of the Sithan warriors.

Following the path through the trees required attention and care so they were silent as they made their way down. Sunlight dappled the path, but much was hidden in shadow. The trees seemed to loom taller and the bushes to encroach the path more. Then she heard the call of a bluejay and that cheered her. The birds always went quiet when anything dangerous traveled abroad.

Or so the storyteller said. Jelena suddenly wondered if it were really true and hoped she wouldn't have to find out first hand.

The path yielded to an open space just near the banks of the river. Jelena let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and turned to Viktor, who wore a look of intense concentration on his face, as if he were having a heated internal debate with himself about something.

“Viktor?”

He spun to face her. “I know I haven't come to see you,” he said. “But then, you haven't come to see me.”

Jelena blinked at his vehemence. “That's true. But I would have liked some reassurance that you were still my friend, despite my change of status. It was a little hard to act like nothing had changed.”

“But you even stopped coming to meeting,” Viktor said. “You were the only person there who ever really understood me or appreciated my songs. Why did you stop?”

The pain in his voice was raw and real. Though she didn't want to hurt anymore, at least it meant Viktor was her friend. “The unawakened rarely go to meeting,” Jelena said. “There's nothing for us when we go beyond self. Or so the stories say.”

“But you're not like anyone else. You believe what you choose to believe. Besides, I'm sure Michael took it personally when you stopped attending.”

“Leave Michael out of this,” Jelena said sharply. “This is just about you and me and our friendship.”

“Ay,” said Viktor, holding his hand up and grinning. “I apologize for getting sidetracked by irrelevant issues. Can we just say that we're friends and forgive each other?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Viktor put his hands on her shoulders, then pulled her lightly to him in a gentle embrace. “I've missed you,” he said, releasing her and stroking a tender finger down the side of the face.

“I've missed you, too, old friend,” she said. A sound on the track made her turn. She saw Michael making his way down to the river and her heart gave another treacherous lurch. Had he come to say a word to her? Then she remembered that he'd agreed to increase security on the river and it was probably his turn to take a patrol. That was all. The riders seemed stretched thin by the demands on them but that was no longer her concern. She'd done what she needed to do. No one could ask more.

“So, where are we going?” she asked Viktor, turning away from the sight of Michael. Without saying a word, he took her hand and guided her downstream to a tall patch of reeds growing in the sun. She realized that because of his natural reticence, speaking out to her must have been very hard for him. She felt her heart warm; he had overcome his reluctance to speak in order to preserve their friendship. At least she meant something to someone. Maybe before they were through they would all learn to be as bold and direct as Bertha.

Viktor began examining the plants to find the most suitable ones to serve as mouthpieces, flexing and tapping the reeds, frowning as he did so. This was not a task Jelena could help him with, so she took off her shoes and waded into the shallows. A flash of silver caught her eye and she gave a delighted laugh as the fish nibbled at her toes before darting off.

The rockstrewn river bed required attention so she didn't cut her feet. She studied the water intently as she waded, squishing mud between her toes and enjoying the luxury of an hour with nothing to do.