Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (57 page)
Read Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves Online
Authors: W. A. Hoffman
I wondered what else I had been oblivious too. “How is everyone else?” I asked. “Are Dickey and the Bard on the threshold of separation, too? Because you are correct, I do not always see things as theyare, perhaps.”
He grinned. “They’re well enough, I suppose. The Bard used to fear the impasse I have reached withAsh, but now I feel he’s come to trust that Dickey doesn’t want anything other than what they have. Julio and Davey, well, Julio could do better, but he’s too damnloyal.”
And I hoped they had not remained on Tortuga. I pushed it aside. There was nothing I could know or do about that matter.
Cudro nodded; then he shook it all away with a great sighand shrug. “I’ve beenthinkingthat perhaps we should let the boys have what they want. Not that Chris is amenable to having anyone as a matelot, but maybe she…” he paused to swear anyone as a matelot, but maybe she…” he paused to swear softly. “
He
would be wellenoughwithAsh.”
“Non,” I said quickly, and he regarded me with a raised eyebrow. I sighed. “And it is not because
she
seems angry with himof late. Non, on a practical note, it is because of the reason for her anger:Ash is besotted; and not in the way your average buccaneer is with a new man. He will likely attempt to treat him —her—like a lady, and attempt to protect her to an extent that will not aid the ruse. And, I am angry at Ash for his abuse of you. No matter how things are between you now, he should at least show you respect and courtesy and not be mooning over her everymoment.”
The big Dutchman laughed. “I remind myself once again to never anger you.” He clasped my shoulder. “Thank you for beingmyfriend.”
“Non, thank you. I know not what Gaston and I would do without our friends.”
Cudro winked at me. “Earn new ones.” With a smile he handed me the beast’s heart.
We spoke of nothing more of import as we finished removing the larger hunks of meat from the carcass. We were just finishing and the light had nearly departed when Pete and Chris returned laden with water. The four of us made our quick but warywayback to the mouthofthe streamand the boat.
“I did not know those creatures grew so large,” Chris whispered as he followed me along the slippery roots. “I have heard tellofones a score offeet or longer, but I thought that was rum-drenched tale telling.”
“That is why no man should walk alone in the West
“That is why no man should walk alone in the West Indies,”I said withamusement.
“Do not…” he said sharply; only to sigh, and then quickly curse as he slipped on a root. “You can argue with Pete over the matter. He says I am useless and no man would want me as a matelot. He was quite incensed I stood there like a pieeyed cow and watched themkill the creature.” He sighed again. “And he is correct. I did nothing. I just stood there.”
His honesty evoked some sympathy. “At least you did not piss yourself,” I said. “I might have at your age, before I had ever seen a battle or…” I shrugged. “And I amnot attempting to patronize you.”
“Non, I understand. I believe I am a few years older than you were when you left your father’s house; and because of mysex, I have seennothing:I have done nothing.”
“You have done a thing I have not,” I said with amusement.
“What?”
“Givenbirth.”
He snorted. “That is a thing of women; and, as you have allmade quite clear, useless inthese West Indies.”
“True, somewhat; but simplyremember this the next time anyofus harangues you:Pete could not do it.”
He began to chuckle. “Oui, I would like to see that high and mightybastard manage that,”he muttered.
I laughed too, untilI recalled an aspect of the matter that sobered me handily. I stopped and turned to him before we reached the boat. “Never rub his nose in that,” I said quietly. “It is the one thinghe could not give Striker.”
To my surprise, he appeared stricken with the understanding, and he nodded quickly. “I willnot saya word.”
I smiled. “Just hold it inyour heart.”
He smiled.
Cudro and Pete had been talking as we went as well: they had decided to risk cooking the organs and some of the meat tonight. As Chris and I joined them, theywere alreadybusy findinga hollow to build the fire inso that the flames could not be seenfromthe sea. Not seeingmymatelot, I leftAshand Chris to assist themand went to find him.
He was returning along the narrow strip of beach to the north of the inlet, with two fish slung over his shoulder. He peered at me inwhat was left ofthe waninglight.
“Will, you stink. Did you roll in the mud? Are you covered inleeches?”
I laughed and dutifully splashed out into the water to washthe mud and blood away.
“Is that blood?”he asked after another sniff.
“Oui. We found something else to eat. It was quite determined to eat me, apparently.” I returned to his side and pulled one of the teeth frommy belt pouch and laid it in his palm inthe darkness.
He was quiet; then there was a sharp intake of breath; thenhis arms were tight about me.
“I am fine,” I murmured. Then I told him of what occurred. I finished with, “I hope that is not the only one I ever
His words echoed mine to Chris, and I found myself smiling. “We were fools, three men without our matelots; but at least we were fine friends.”
He sighed into my shoulder. “Oui, but I would rather be there if you are to be eaten by some beast; because then I know all will have been done to defend you, and I will not be left blaminganother.”
I understood that. “Well, my love, the same goes for you.”I kissed himand he returned it withsurprisingfervor.
“Are we spending the night here?” he breathed in my ear whenhe left mynow-hungrymouth.
“I think so,”I breathed.
“Good.” He toppled me into the sand and made me forget about caymanand allmanner ofmonsters.
Thus I was quite surprised when he whispered, “I feel weak,”as he held me inthe aftermath.
“Truly, you could have fooled me just now,” I said lightly. Still, now that I listened to his heavy breathing against the surf, and the rumbled catch of fluid still in his lungs and throat, I understood. “Youwillheal,”I assured us both.
“I know,” he said with more doubt than I liked. “But this is not a good voyage for me to be weak. We are so few…And not all is well with the others. Pete is Pete, and Cudro is Cudro, but Chris is a… boy, and Ashis onlya shade better.”
“I was able to speak to Cudro,” I said. I told him what the Dutchmansaid concerningAsh. “How are we?”
Gaston snorted into my neck, but then he pulled away a little and I felt himsettle his head onhis elbow and regard me.
“We are well. I am well,” he said with thoughtful surety. “Not yet inbody, non; but ifI think onit, inspirit, oui. MyHorse is quiet, and though I am anxious about this voyage, I am not anxious about our future beyond it. I suppose that is remarkable. I am pleased they have sailed to the Netherlands and we have escaped—everything—to sail to Île de la Vachon for a time. I suppose I should feelguilt over that, but I do not.”
I smiled thoughhe could not see it. “I feelno guilt, either. I feelwell. My only concern—beyond this voyage—is Chris and the havoc he has wrought and might yet wreak. It seems we can never quite empty the cart; and I feel our cart often overturns others’as we go rolling down the road. It is as ifwe cannot stop and theyare forced to veer offthe pathinorder to avoid us.
“I have spent these last weeks thanking the Gods you are alive and well, and… feeling that others should simply make the best of the situation. But, today, talking to Cudro, I realized how very blind I have been—yet again. I amever—well, we are ever—the center of our lives; and, despite my recurrent guilt, I feel all must revolve around us. My guilt, compassion, duty, what-have-you, is never enough to lever us from this position of primacyinthe solar systemofour existence.”
“Did you feel thus before trouble came to us in Cayonne?”he asked.
I tried to recall my thoughts throughout the spring. I shook my head. I understood what he meant. “I do not feel thus when we frolic, non: I did not feel thus this spring in Cayonne; I did not feel thus last fall on the Haiti; I do not feel thus when we rove…”
He nodded sagely. “You do not feel thus when the road
He rubbed myarm. “Youare correct. We shoulder them aside and make them change their course when we are pulling uphill, because if we stop and pay heed to themwe will perhaps not be able to get rollingagain.”
I envisioned us as centaurs, pulling hard up a hill with a cart full ofAgnes, Yvette, Chris, Gaston’s father, and the babies —and oddly, the Gods. Our wagon was sturdy and held them well; but with our heads and shoulders down to pull, we were not seeing the smaller carts careening off the road ahead of us. Cudro and Ash scrambled to move their rickety vehicle fromour path. Theodore and Rachel rolled off one side of the road while little Elizabeth and the shades of her brothers cried. Striker, Pete and Sarah had been trying to pull one cart, and I could see that arrangement was unstable: thus I did not view Pete becoming separated fromthemand remainingonthe road withdismay.
I told Gastonofthis image.
“I do not see it that way,” he said with bemusement. “Or rather, I see the Gods plucking them up as we drive them from the road and tossing theminto our cart. We have disrupted their lives; therefore we are responsible for them.”
I could envision that too. “Oui, that we are, but…” I could now see us as two centaurs pulling a huge, over-laden dray up a hill. “So, all must revolve around us because we are
I heard Gastonshake his head. “Non. Theyare… pulling yet. Non, my allegory was incorrect. We push them aside and the Gods toss them behind us and then our friends choose to follow us, because we are the ones makinga path.”
I could see that, too: our wagon moving ever-upward witha trainofsmaller carts behind it.
“But it is our path,” I said. “Why do they follow us? I guess that has longbeenmyquestion.”
“We have purpose, Will. We are going somewhere,” my matelot said thoughtfully.
It was true. We were a thing the Gods placed in their lives. But yet…
“Whydo I stillfeelguilt?”I asked.
“You wish to perceive others as being like you,” Gaston said withamusement.
I chuckled. “That is verysimilar to a thingCudro said.”
“He is correct, you wish for everyone to be in love and happy,”Gastonteased.
“Non, just the people I like.”
“Some people want the impossible, my love,” he said seriously.
“I know, and I know Cudro is one ofthem,”I sighed. “It stillsaddens me.”
“And we did not choose to bring Chris here,” he added. “
His
presence here is entirelyhis doing.”
“True, non, still I feel… responsible: as if the Gods do pluck themup in our wake and throw themonto the road behind
us; and, even if they possess a greater inclination to
sheepliness
—or rather, because they do—it is our duty to choose a path that benefits them—which I suppose we have. By the Gods, I suppose I simplywishto feelguilt.”
“You should not feel guilt. We do not set bait and catch them. We have not pursued anyone we know and made them follow. We have not set our path to chase themdown and drive them from the road. We are obstacles the Gods have placed in their lives—just as they are obstacles the Gods have placed in ours.”
It was very true, and my soul acknowledged it heartily. I smiled wanly. “So mysupposed guilt is hubris?”
“Just so,”he said.
I was feeling the fool, wondering what knots of madness in my soul led me to follow the same rutted thoughts over and over again. How is it that I can know so many things—in my heart or my head, or both—and yet not be able to follow the logicaldictates ofthem? I supposed this conversation, like allthe rest, was another attempt to tease out a piece of those knots. I hoped one day I would be free of them—and the miasma of guilt. I surely did not know how to cut myself free. I was afraid to; as I had been afraid of killing my father. That was a line I must slash; but truly, I had always known that if I began hacking about I could likely lose things I wished to be bound to in the carnage. I knew, I knew, and yet…
“I enjoycastigatingmyself,”I said at last.
“Oui,”mymatelot said, “youlike pain.”
My cock perked. I cursed the foibles of my life with my
laughter.
We at last reluctantly returned to our friends. Cudro and
Ash were sitting silently on opposite sides of the low smoky fire.
Gaston deposited his fish near themand joined me in the smoke
withhis back to the light—a thinghe had taught me onthe Haiti. “I cut it down to strips to cook it quicker,” Cudro said.
Some ofthe smaller ones are done. Youcould take themto Pete
and Chris. Pete’s near that damn stream and Chris is watching
the sea.”He pointed southalongthe shore.
Gaston squared his shoulders and nodded resolutely. In
the flickering light I could see how tired he appeared. It clutched
at my heart. I told myselfagain it had only been a little over three
weeks, but I worried that his illness had been akin to the dread
malaria, and he would be afflicted with it for the remainder of his
I leaned in close and whispered, “You have proven yourselfto me this night, youneed show no other.”
He snorted and kissed mycheek.
I took a stick with a steamy hunk of meat that Cudro proffered, and gingerly made my way into the darkness near the inlet—a knife clutched inmyfree hand.
“YaSeeAnyShips?” Pete surprised me by asking from the shadows.
I had not seenor evenfelt his presence.
I sighed. “Nay, we were otherwise engaged. It is good Chris is watchingthe sea.”
He snorted and chuckled. “ISent’ImInYourDirection,
He snorted and chuckled. “ISent’ImInYourDirection, But’ECameBack Mutterin’’Bout’Ow TheViewWere BetterFromThe OtherSide.”
I sighed again. I was pleased Chris had not come while we spoke, yet… “We must cure him of his squeamishness on that matter.”
“MaybeYaTwo ShouldFuckMore. YouBeTheOnly OnesThatCanNow.”
“Aye,” I chided, “and we are attempting to be respectful ofeveryone else’s loss.”
Pete made a disparagingnoise. “ILikeWatchin’YaFuck.”
I could feelhis hungry eyes in the dark. It was unsettling. “Pete, youneed a matelot.”
“IGottaMatelot.”
“Youneed someone youcanfuck.”
He sighed and beganto eat.
I regretted my words, and struggled to think of somethinghelpful.
“MaybeCowIsland,” he slurred around a mouthful of cayman.
“Aye,” I said. “Though Cudro and Ash are apparently no more, it would be rude and difficult even if one of themwere interested.”
“NotMyType, EitherO’’Em. AshIsAWanker WithNoLoveO’Men, An’ CudroWouldna’Spread’IsCheeksFer AnyManLes’’EWereBeat BloodyAn’ NearDead.”
I chuckled at his assessment. “And since neither would