Read Promise Of The Wolves Online
Authors: Dorothy Hearst
Tags: #!Fantasy, #%Read, #%Owned, #%Purchased, #-Fictionwise
“Sky rumbled in approval. She had expected no less.
“‘Since humans now think they are better than all others,’ she told Indru, ‘they will become stupid with their own power. They will set fires larger than you can imagine. They will fight and they will kill, and they will not care if they destroy anything and everything that is not like them. Left alone, they will destroy the Balance itself, and then we will have no choice but to end the lives not just of wolf and humankind, but of the entire world.’”
Trevegg paused and looked at us. “You remember what I told you of the Balance, when you were smallpups?” the oldwolf asked. “That it is what holds the world together and that every creature, every plant, every breath of air is part of? Well, Sky—who is the leader of all the Ancients—feared that if the Balance were to be destroyed, the Ancients themselves might die. So she took a great risk in trusting Indru. But she was lonely, and wanted the wolves to succeed.”
The oldwolf stretched once again and closed his eyes, as if better to see Indru on his mountaintop.
“‘We will send challenges to the humans, great storms and droughts and fiery death from both the mountains and from above,’ Sky said to the wolf. ‘This will keep the humans from growing too strong and arrogant. They will struggle, and their struggles will keep them too busy to cause us trouble. But this you must promise us, wolf. You must not help them again. You and your kind must stay forever away from them. You must shun their company.’
“Indru would’ve given Sky his nose and his teeth if it had been asked of him, but he did not want to make this promise. He could not imagine staying forever apart from the human creatures. It would be as bad, he thought, as leaving packmates to die. He turned his face away from Sky and from Sun, and did not answer.
“Earth trembled beneath his feet. ‘It is the only way,’ the Ancient said.
“‘If you do not renounce them,’ Sun beat down hard upon Indru’s head, ‘they will learn more from you; they will grow too strong even for us to control. You will fight them and they will fight you.’
“‘It’s the price you must pay,’ Moon cried loudly to be heard from the far side of Earth.
“But it was only when Tlitookilakin poked Indru so hard on his head that the wolf could not hold back a cry of pain, that Indru gave his answer. He bowed his head then, and promised Sky that the wolves would forever spurn the company of humans.”
Trevegg paused, and for the briefest of moments, the oldwolf’s eyes met mine.
“For years upon years,” he said, looking away, “the wolves did their best to keep Indru’s promise. But try as they might, they could not stay forever away from the humans.”
“They didn’t realize how difficult it would be,” Rissa said, picking up the story when the oldwolf paused. “Neither the wolves nor the Ancients understood the strength of the pull between the humans and the wolves. Whether it was because wolves and humans shared a soul,” she looked to Ruuqo, daring him to challenge her, “or because they had spent too much time together, it was impossible for Indru’s children to keep distant from the humans. Time and time again they came together, and each time Sky grew angrier and pulled them apart. Then, many years later, long after the time of Indru, a youngwolf—not so much older than you pups are now—hunted with the humans, and taught her pack to do the same. In doing so, she caused a great war. That’s when the covenant of the Wide Valley was born.”
“The Ancients had warned the wolves that if they failed to keep the promise, all wolf-and humankind would die,” Trevegg said. “So when the wolf Lydda hunted with the humans, Sky sent a winter three years long to end the lives of humans and of wolves. But then, when all seemed to be lost, giant wolves appeared, wolves who said they were sent to be our guardians. These were the first Greatwolves, and some say that they walked down from the sky on the rays of the sun, and that they are part of the Ancients themselves.”
“The Greatwolves came to give us one last chance. They came to watch over wolfkind and to ensure that wolves never again forgot Indru’s promise,” Rissa said. “And since the Greatwolves knew they could not stay forever upon the Earth, they sought out wolves who would someday take their place as guardians of wolfkind, wolves who would watch over all others to make sure wolves and humans did not come together again. They searched across the world for wolves that might have the strength to fulfill this task, and brought those wolves here to the Wide Valley. Then the Greatwolves closed off the valley, choosing which wolves might bear pups and which might not and allowing in the valley only those wolves who would swear to the Ancients to obey the rules of the covenant.”
“That we would keep away from the humans as much as possible,” Trevegg said.
“That we would never kill a human unprovoked,” Yllin added.
“And that we would protect our bloodlines and mate only with wolves inside the valley,” Rissa finished. “These three rules would be passed down to every wolf born in the valley, and any who did not obey would be killed or sent far away. Any pack that did not enforce the rules would be wiped out. Since then, the Greatwolves have spoken for the Ancients and have been the guardians of the wolves and of the promise. But one day, when they return to the sky, we will take their place. We must prove ourselves worthy. We must be ready when that day comes, or wolfkind will be no more.”
U
nnan was the first of us to speak.
“Why is it so important that we don’t mate with wolves outside the valley?” he asked, looking pointedly at me. “Why is it so wrong to let a mixed-blood wolf live?”
Trevegg narrowed his eyes at Unnan, but answered. “Mixed-bloods can be dangerous,” he said. “Some of them are too drawn to the humans. Others cannot help but kill them. Either way, the covenant is broken and we fail in our task. Other mixed-bloods are neither one thing nor the other, and go mad. No one knows how they will behave.”
“So having a mixed-blood in the pack puts us in danger?” Borlla asked with false innocence. I restrained myself from trying to rip her ears off. Marra, pretending to scratch a flea, dug her claws into Borlla’s hip. Borlla growled and leapt on her. Before the rest of us could join the fight, Trevegg grabbed Borlla by the neck fur and pulled her away.
“Enough!” the oldwolf said. “At times, we do mix our blood. The Greatwolves sometimes bring in wolves from outside the valley. Otherwise our bloodlines would grow weak.”
“You end up with wolves with three ears and two noses,” Yllin said, playfully swatting Unnan. He fell over onto his side and glared at her.
“We permit mixed-bloods when the Greatwolves allow it,” Rissa said, “as they did with Kaala.”
“The Greatwolves could be wrong, though, couldn’t they?” Borlla persisted. “She could still be dangerous.”
“That is not for you to say, pup,” Trevegg said.
Ruuqo raised his head once again to look at me. Rissa walked over to stand beside me and licked the top of my head.
“We will discuss it no more,” she said. “It is the will of the Greatwolves and it is done. You must remember what I have told you of the humans and the covenant. Sleep now, and be ready to run in a few hours’ time.”
Then, as if nothing unusual were happening, the pack settled down to sleep away the rest of the hot part of the day. Ázzuen and Marra lay down as close to me as was comfortable in the afternoon sun, and I was grateful for their support. But my heart was racing. It wasn’t just that Ruuqo didn’t want me in the Swift River pack. It was much more than that. I could be dangerous for everything in the valley. I desperately wanted to know more about the humans and what it was about them that made them so important. I wanted to ask Trevegg or Yllin more questions while the other pups slept. But the late afternoon heat made me drowsy, and before I knew it, I had joined my pack in sleep.
Rissa woke us two hours after moonrise. I rolled happily in the cool evening air, in a much better mood than when I’d fallen asleep. I was a pup of the Swift River pack, and nothing Borlla or Unnan could say would change that. Our leave-taking ceremony was quick and quiet, with only the softest yips and calls. The humans were gone from the kill—only a memory of their scent remained—but we weren’t about to take any chances. Rissa said that our howls disturbed them, even from afar.
We left Wood’s Edge and crossed the Tall Grass plains at a run, quickly entering the woods on the other side, all of us pups doing our best to keep up with the adults. Ruuqo had warned us against disobeying before we left.
“Any pup who does not follow orders will be sent back alone. You must not stray from the path Rissa sets you. Any pup who cannot obey must stay here.” His tone allowed no disagreement. We had all promised to obey.
The woods on the far side of the Tall Grass plains were heavily scented with trees and bushes I did not know, but we did not stop to investigate the new scents. Both the field and woods smelled strongly of humans, and the acrid scent made me dizzy. It was easy to follow, even after several hours, and we moved quickly in the moonlight. It was a bright, nearly full moon, and it lit the world with the crisp contrasts of night, making everything clear and sharp. The leaves were outlined in moonglow, the earth rich with shades of light, and we could see much farther than in the blurring daylight. This was the hunting time, and it was easy to track the broken alder branches and displaced dirt the humans had carelessly left behind. The human-scent was so strong we could have tracked them on a moonless night, but I didn’t mind the extra help of the bright moon illuminating the nighttime world.
We heard the river before we saw it. It sounded like a strong wind blowing through a hundred thickly leaved trees. It smelled of water, of course, but also of damp earth and decaying wood, of woods fed by the richness of the river and of small, fat animals—mouthfuls of lizard and mouse. I began to pant in excitement as we neared this river that divided our territory from the humans. I wondered how different the land across the water would be.
The river was larger than I’d expected, and faster moving. The slope down to the river was a gentle one, but the bank across the way rose steeply. I hesitated at the water’s edge. So did the rest of the pups.
“It’s just water, pups,” Rissa said, checking the area for any danger, and then lowering her head to drink.
Her loud lapping made me realize how thirsty I was. We had not had water since our meal. The water was delicious. It tasted of leaves and fish and faraway places.
“I wonder where it ends,” Marra said, gazing downstream.
“I’m more concerned about getting to the other side,” Ázzuen said, looking worriedly across the river. Unnan snickered, and Ázzuen’s tail drooped slightly.
“Come, pups,” Rissa said, cheerfully. She strode into the river, and then looked back at us. “You must be comfortable in moving water. Some prey swim across rivers, and you must be able to swim after it. You do not want your meal floating away from you.” She grinned. Rissa was able to wade most of the way across, swimming only when she reached the very middle of the river. We pups would have to swim much of the way. She climbed out easily on the other side, shook herself off, and looked back at us. Werrna waded in, stopping just where the river deepened.
The water moved like the wind. I liked swimming, and had paddled happily enough in the pond by our home, but I’d never tried anything like this. I stuck one paw in the water, getting up the nerve to cross.
Something hit me hard from behind, and I fell, smacking hard into the river. I swallowed a mouthful of water and mud, and scrambled back up the bank, coughing and shaking water from my fur and eyes and catching Borlla smirking on the shore behind me. Without thinking, forgetting Ruuqo’s warning, I leapt at Borlla, knocking her into the mud. She could have drowned me and she certainly made me look ridiculous. I wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
“Pups!” Werrna thundered, wading back across the river, as Yllin put her head down to stop Unnan and Ázzuen from joining what looked to be a good fight. “Is this how you behave? You are not babywolves anymore. You are supposed to be responsible enough to go on a journey without being watched constantly. Do I need to send you back to Ruuqo?”
Reluctantly, I let Borlla up. Her eyes glittered in anger, and I could tell she wanted to fight me. But she would wait for another time. She was no more likely to give up the chance to see the humans than I was. We both bowed our heads to Werrna and dropped to our bellies. Borlla dug her left paw into my ribs. I resisted the urge to bite her neck. Werrna watched us closely. Apparently satisfied that we were done fighting, she waded back into the river as if the swift current were no more to her than a light breeze. She stood stolidly in the water, wet fur pressed flat to her body, eyes glowing in the moonlight.
“Don’t wait all night,” she grumbled as we hesitated. “The moon will be beyond the mountains before you have the courage to get your paws wet.”
Across the river, Rissa paced back and forth.
“Come
on,
” Yllin said when none of us waded in. “The river is slow this time of year. Just wait until after the rains when it flows as quickly as I run.”
I took a deep breath and stepped into the water. Borlla shouldered me aside.
“Some wolves are afraid of everything,” she said, “and some are not.” She walked confidently into the river and began to wade, and then swim across. Unnan followed, pausing to kick water in Ázzuen’s face. They weren’t graceful when they swam, legs paddling almost frantically beneath them, heads stretching above the water, but they were strong swimmers.
“I don’t think I can do it.” Ázzuen’s voice was so soft, I had to strain to hear him. He sat huddled beside Yllin. I should have gone to him, but Unnan and Borlla were almost to where Werrna stood in the middle of the river.
Marra poked her nose in my side.
“Race you across,” she said, and dove into the water.
“Come on,” I shouted to Ázzuen, and jumped in. I didn’t look back to see if he followed. I couldn’t keep up with Marra, but made it across the river much more easily than I expected. The current carried us downstream, since we could not swim as strongly as Rissa, and she trotted along the bank to join us.
“Nicely done, pups,” she said in approval, and then turned her gaze across the river. Only then did I look back to see Ázzuen and Reel on the far side of the river, staring nervously at the moving water. Yllin nipped at their rumps. The water carried her voice to where we stood.
“Do I have to bring you across?” she mocked. “What will Ruuqo think when we tell him you were so afraid?”
Come on, Ázzuen
, I thought impatiently. If he let them see his fear he’d never be part of the pack. Hesitantly he, and then Reel, waded in. Ázzuen swam awkwardly and slowly. Three-quarters of the way across, he grew tired and began to sink. I called to him.
“Keep swimming! If stupid Unnan can make it, so can you!”
My voice seemed to give Ázzuen a fresh burst of energy, and he made it the rest of the way across, and climbed out of the water, shaking the river from his fur. I was proud of him, pleased that it was my encouragement that helped him cross—and a little bit ashamed that I hadn’t waited for him.
“I knew you could do it.”
“Yes,” he said. “Now I just have to make it back across.” He touched my cheek with his nose.
I turned to Borlla, expecting to see her mocking us for our affection for each other, but her eyes were on the river. Reel was struggling. He didn’t seem to understand how to swim, and stopped moving his legs halfway across. He quickly began to sink. Rissa gave a sharp bark. Yllin and Werrna both waded over to Reel, but the current bore him downstream.
Borlla leapt into the water, swam strongly to Reel, and grabbed him by the scruff. She kept both of their heads above water until Yllin reached them and dragged Reel across to safety. Rissa checked him all over, making sure he was not injured, and licked him all over, as if she could wash the danger from him. Borlla made her own way back to the riverbank, and lay, panting, in the mud. Reel walked shyly up to her and licked her face in thanks. I expected her to make fun of him for being weak, but she placed her chin gently on his neck. I felt a surge of jealousy. I had not thought to comfort Ázzuen. I turned to see him watching me carefully, but before I could say anything, Rissa spoke.
“You have done well by your pack,” she said to Borlla. The approval in her voice infuriated me. “You,” she said to Reel, stern with him now that she knew he was safe, “must grow stronger.” She touched her nose to his head once more, and shook the last of the water from her fur.
“That was the least dangerous part of this night, pups,” she said. “Follow me, and make no noise. We will not stop again until we reach the human gathering place.”
Running one by one, so no passing wolf could guess how many of us there were, we set off into the thick woods, and toward the deepening smell of humans.
The woods thinned and we reached the bottom of a small, dry hill covered with tall summer grasses and spiny bushes. The scent of humans was overpowering. Rissa called a halt and gathered us around.
Rissa’s voice took on a warning edge. “From just over this hill we will be able to see the human gathering place. Do not go near them. Do not leave the side of an adult.”
My heart beat quickly in excitement. Solemnly and silently, as we had seen our elders stalk the bear, we crept to the top of the hill. We could not quite see the humans, but we could smell and hear them. Rissa stopped again and we waited beside her. Yllin and Werrna kept watch—over us and over anything that might notice us. Ázzuen, sitting beside me, began to shake a little. I turned to lick him on the face, and gently took his muzzle in my mouth, as Rissa had done to us pups when we were younger and afraid of something. I could hear his heartbeat slow as I comforted him. Marra, who had been so brave by the river, came up to me then, and whined very softly. I took her muzzle in my mouth next, and she sighed in relief. I looked over to the other pups, and saw Borlla doing the same with Reel. She looked at me defiantly.
At a nod from Rissa, we dropped to our bellies and crept forward, hidden by the tall, dry grass. Rissa had said the humans were night-blind, but still I was glad for the cover that the grass and prickly bushes gave us. Ázzuen, and then Marra, gave little yips of excitement and fear, until a glare from Rissa and a few sharp nips from Yllin quieted them. Finally, we crawled over the crest of the hill, and looked into the human homesite. At last we could see them, as well as smell and hear them.
There were several packfuls of the two-legged creatures. Like bears before the strike, they lumbered around a clearing six times the size of our gathering place. Their long bodies were smooth like a lizard’s or a snake’s, but were dappled with patches of sleek fur. Around their shoulders and haunches many of them wore pelts of dead prey. They smelled of salt and meat and soft, damp earth, of prey skins and river water. But their own scents were overpowered by the acrid odor that made them so easy to find, even from a great distance. It was fire-scent, I realized abruptly, fire-scent mixed with an unfamiliar burning rock smell. The fire was contained by circles of stones. There was something strange about the scent, something I couldn’t identify.