Secrets of the Wolves (35 page)

We won, of course. The Rian tribe hunted well, but they didn’t know what we knew and did not have the combined skills of wolf and human. They were still testing the aurochs, looking for ones weak enough to kill without getting injured in the process, when we found an especially aggressive one, angered it, and killed it. That was enough for the auroch herd. They thundered away, leaving us alone with the Rian tribe.

PalRian took his loss with good grace, though I could tell he was unhappy.

“I assume my son can still bargain for the girl,” he said.

“Of course,” HuLin said, and TaLi gasped. “We would welcome it. And we would be happy to share this kill with you.”

PalRian clasped HuLin’s shoulder. “It’s yours, honorably won,” he said. “I look forward to wagering with you again.” He looked TaLi over. “And to other discussions.”

He nodded to his tribemates, and they began to drift from the plain. DavRian stayed, sulking where he stood until his father took him by the arm and led him away. As soon as they were gone from the field, HuLin gave a great whoop, lifted TaLi in the air, and spun her around. He set her down and gestured to the rest of the Lin tribe. They began cutting into the new auroch.

“He wasn’t supposed to do that,” TaLi whispered. “He was supposed to send DavRian away for good.” She stood still for a moment. “I won’t do it, Silvermoon. No matter what, I won’t.”

HuLin called to her then. She held my fur tightly and then went to him. I watched her go, wanting to go after her.

“The meat, wolflet,” Tlitoo said. “You must bring it to your pack.”

“I know,” I said, still watching TaLi. “Where are they now?” I asked Tlitoo.

“Swamp Wallow Gathering Place,” he answered. There was no such gathering place. Tlitoo had made up the name after the pack had followed us to the very edge of Swift River territory to a marshy, fly-infested patch of ground sheltered by sparse cypress trees and patchy juniper. Tlitoo had taken one look at it and dubbed it Swamp Wallow. The pack had chosen it because it was as close as they could get to the auroch grounds and remain in Swift River lands. After discovering the biting flies and marshy ground, the pack had considered moving farther back into our territory. Evidently, they had not.

“Let’s go, then,” Ázzuen said, licking his sore paw, reminding me of the pain in my ribs and legs. Only Marra seemed unaffected by our exertions. She bounded a few paces toward Swamp Wallow and looked back over her shoulder at me. I knew she was so impatient because she wanted to get back to MikLan.

“We’re going,” I said. I loped back to the meat HuLin had given us, picked up a good piece of auroch belly, and led Ázzuen and Marra toward Swamp Wallow. In spite of my concern for TaLi and my aching muscles, I felt good. We had succeeded with the humans and were bringing good greslin to the pack. We would bring our pack food, and then seek the Greatwolf cache. We were on our way to succeeding.

It was just past midday by the time we reached Swamp Wallow, and the pack slept soundly. Rissa lay curled up, her nose tucked into her forepaws, snoring hard. Ruuqo was stretched full length in the sun. Minn, who always got warm when he slept, rested in the scant shade of the cypresses. When the three of us squelched into the copse carrying the meat, Werrna opened one eye, then came fully awake. She stood, stretched, and walked over to us.

“Leave it there,” she said before we’d even had a chance to set down the meat. She looked it over. “Is that all you brought?”

“There’s more,” I said, annoyed at her tone. How much did she think three wolves could carry? She didn’t even thank us for bringing meat to the pack. “What did Ruuqo and Rissa find out?” I asked. The two leaderwolves smelled of Pirra and Sonnen. They must have been speaking to the Wind Lake and Tree Line packs.

Werrna didn’t answer me. She just pushed the meat we’d brought around with her nose, looking for something wrong with it. But it was all good greslin. She picked up the belly meat I had brought and stalked to Minn. She set down the meat and poked him awake.

“Get up,” she said. “We’re taking this to New Cache.”

Minn groaned but rose and stretched. Werrna returned to us. “Go get the rest of the meat,” she said. “Then meet us back at Fallen Tree by darkfall for a pack meeting.”

“Fallen Tree? That’s an hour’s run,” I protested. “We still have to find what the Greatwolves are hiding, and we aren’t done with the humans.”

“Why can’t we talk to Ruuqo and Rissa now?” Ázzuen demanded.

“Because they haven’t slept more than two hours at a time since the Gathering!” Werrna said, glaring at me as if it was my fault. “Give them their rest or you’ll answer to me for it.”

She picked up the meat that both Ázzuen and Marra had carried, managing to get all of it in her powerful jaws, and stalked across the copse.

Marra blocked her path.

“Did Pirra and Sonnen agree to stand with us?” Marra demanded. “Something’s happened. I can tell.” She sniffed the mud in front of her paws as if she could smell the change in the dynamics of the pack. Ázzuen and I stared at her in shock. A wolf not yet a year old didn’t challenge a secondwolf in that way. Werrna didn’t even change her direction. She just shoved Marra aside. I thought she would keep going, but she set down the meat and glared at Marra.

“It is not for me to speak for the leaderwolves,” she growled. “And it’s not for you to demand it of me.” But her scarred face was tight, and she shifted uneasily. Werrna was a straightforward wolf, and keeping secrets was not her way. “Go look for what the Greatwolves are hiding, then get back to the auroch kill and bring the rest of the greslin,” she said.

She picked up the meat again and squelched from the clearing. Minn dashed after her, kicking up mud behind him. Marra and Ázzuen waded across the copse. I began to follow, then stopped as Tlitoo flew into the copse, hovered above Ruuqo, and landed on the sleeping wolf’s back.

“Are you coming?” Ázzuen asked when he saw I had stopped.

“We have to look for the Greatwolf hiding place before the humans notice we’re gone,” Marra said.

“I’ll follow you in a minute,” I said. “You can wait for me at the bottom of the poplar hill.”

Mara started to protest, but I glared at her. Grumbling, she and Ázzuen left.

“Hurry up, wolf,” Tlitoo said as soon as they were out of earshot.

He had refused to come to Swamp Wallow, claiming it stank too much. Now he perched atop Ruuqo, looking at me expectantly.

“I thought you wouldn’t come here,” I said, snapping at the flies that tried to land on my muzzle. “Why aren’t you up a tree with Jlela?” I could hear my voice was a little nasty.

He launched himself at me. I flinched back, but he only landed at my feet and glared at me.

“She is watching your humans for me, Moonwolf,” he said. His use of that name made me uneasy. “We may not have another chance to do this.”

“We don’t have time,” I said.

“We must have time,” he quorked. “There are still things to know. And I must practice. The motherwolf said it was important.” That was his name for Lydda. He hopped back onto Ruuqo’s back.

Tempted, I took a few steps toward him. I’d felt guilty seeing Ázzuen’s memories of me, but I had been fascinated. And if I knew what Ruuqo was thinking, I might better be able to convince the pack—and Sonnen and Pirra—to follow us. And we did need the practice. Maybe if we practiced we could find a way to see Lydda again.

“Quickly,” I said.

He quorked in approval and hopped down next to Ruuqo. Cautiously, so as not to wake him, I lay down next to the leaderwolf, and Tlitoo pressed gently between us.

I thought I was ready for the cold and the falling sensation, for the absence of scent, but it still shocked me. My heart raced and it took all my will to keep from pulling away, but I forced myself to tolerate it. The darkness shifted into the bright light of midday and the no-scent was carried away by the aroma of cool autumn grass. Ruuqo was not thinking of Pirra or Sonnen or of the pact with the humans, nor of the covenant of the Wide Valley. He was dreaming of a young wolf whose white fur shone like snow in the sun and the agony of yearning for what he could never have.

“Wake up, Scrounger,” Hiiln said. He pounced on Ruuqo, waking him from a midday nap.

Ruuqo had always hated his brother’s nickname for him, earned when he was a pup and afraid to hunt. He stood and stretched, looking in irritation at Hiiln, who was nearly half a head taller than he. Ruuqo was a large wolf, but now that they were nearing two years old, he knew he would never be as large as his brother.

Hiiln, noticing Ruuqo’s annoyance but misinterpreting the cause, poked him hard in the ribs. “Stop whining,” he said. “You’ll be glad I woke you up. Come on.” He bolted from Fallen Tree, muscles taut, fur rippling in the breeze.

Ruuqo scrambled after him. “What’s so important?” he panted, running as always a full wolflength behind his brother.

“Females,” Hiiln said. “Two of them. From the Warm Hill pack. The rest of their pack joined Wind Lake when their leaderwolf died, but they stayed.”

Hiiln slowed when they reached a small hill at the edge of Swift River territory and lowered himself to his belly. Ruuqo flopped down beside him. From where they lay, they could see two young females across the verge. Warm Hill territory had not yet been taken over by another pack, though soon it would be. The two young-wolves would not be able to defend it. One was an ordinary-looking wolf, a little on the thin side. She smelled of a submissive wolf. The other wolf was glorious, with a pure white coat like that of no wolf Ruuqo had ever seen. He watched, entranced as the two young-wolves played together, wrestling in the warm sun. The white wolf was so strong and graceful Ruuqo couldn’t take his eyes from her.

Hiiln stood, showing himself to the youngwolves. They didn’t run, nor did they challenge the strange wolves. They wagged their tails in welcome.

Ruuqo and Hiiln crossed the verge and introduced themselves, allowing the Warm Hill females to sniff them from tail to head. When Ruuqo, in turn, inhaled the aroma of the white wolf, he could barely catch his breath. He knew that, more than anything in the world, he wanted her.

But of course, Hiiln was there first. Of course she had eyes only for him, his commanding presence making it clear he would someday be a leaderwolf.

“I’m Rissa,” the white wolf said. “This is my sister, Neesa.”

Neesa looked shyly at Ruuqo. He acknowledged her with the briefest glance before returning his gaze to Rissa. It was already too late. She smelled of attraction to Hiiln and of readiness to find a mate.

Within a quarter moon, the four wolves were inseparable. Ruuqo ignored Neesa until he realized that Rissa was trying to push the two of them together. The he began to woo her and was rewarded by the approval in Rissa’s gaze.

When Rissa and Neesa took the Swift River wolves to watch the humans, Ruuqo was disgusted, but Hiiln was fascinated. Ruuqo pretended to be, too. Rissa and Neesa were satisfied to watch the humans, but Hiiln was not. He insisted on going to the humans again and again and soon began to return to the gathering place smelling of human sweat. Traan, their father and the leader of Swift River, noticed and ordered him to stop. Hiiln would not, said he could not.

Two moons later, Hiiln left the valley. Or rather was chased from the valley. By Greatwolves and his own father. Ruuqo was certain that Rissa would go with Hiiln, but Hiiln made her promise to stay. Before he left Hiiln spoke urgently to Ruuqo, extracting a promise Ruuqo was reluctant to make. But he made it. Hiiln was his brother and he might never see him again, and so Ruuqo promised that he would lead Swift River and keep the pack safe. Ruuqo watched him go with a mingling of sadness and gratitude. When Rissa howled her sorrow, Ruuqo howled with her.