The Sight (32 page)

Huttser had thought nothing of the remark.

‘I only meant...’

‘When I took refuge among the stones, Huttser,’ snapped Slavka, ‘I would often look up at the sun and howl to Fenris and ask for his help and advice.  But with time, because he never answered, I began to try and see what was really up there in the heavens.  It hurt my eyes, but soon I could hold it a little longer.  I do not think that the sun is Fenris.’

‘No doubt it’s just a cub’s fable,’ shrugged Huttser, wondering why Slavka had grown so serious.

‘Not one to teach my cubs,’ said Slavka, but her face contracted with the memory of that terrible day.

‘But cubs need stories,’ said Huttser, ‘and children understand what they really are.  Far better than adults.’

‘Perhaps,’ growled Slavka, stopping suddenly, ‘but as we grow we must reject lies.  Were not the Night Hunters chosen for the strength of their eyes? Well, when this is finished and Morgra is destroyed, Huttser, then I shall permit the Greater Pack to breed.  Strength shall be their birth right, and we shall not teach them myths about Tor or Fenris or the Sight.  We shall teach them how to look at the sun and see it for what it really is.  We shall teach them to look life in the muzzle and be brave and cold and true.  There shall be no Siklas there, and no more fear.’

Huttser suddenly remembered poor Bran and his own dead cubs, lying beneath the birch tree outside the den.  He missed Palla more than ever.

The clouds had come again and, with the evening, the temperature was plummeting as they came to the slopes below the southern edges of Kosov.  Beyond a pass that led out into a wide, flat plain, the wolf patrol looked out in amazement.

There were humans in the plain.  A number of them had already begun to raise their tents and corral their horses.  They were settling at the mouth of the valley.

‘What do they want here?’ growled Huttser.

Slavka’s eyes suddenly flashed with fear and hate.  The rebels were unnerved too, though Slavka tried to reassure them, for the humans seemed far enough away and they were clearly not hunting.  But the wolves were approaching the rebel camp again when they suddenly heard a growl and looked up the slope.

‘Gart,’ cried Slavka, ‘what news?’

Gart eyed Huttser coldly as he padded towards them, for he was jealous of Huttser’s new place in the pack’s pecking order.  It was this that had sent him out in the first place, alone and travelling far, to win back Slavka’s favour.

‘Plenty, Slavka.  There are humans on the edge of Kosov.’

‘We know, Gart.  We saw them ourselves.’

‘I spied a group of Balkar too, Slavka.  They were clearly hunting.’

Gart looked exhausted, for he had been travelling for suns and suns without resting to bring the news to his leader.

‘For the child?’

Gart nodded, but now his eyes began to sparkle.

‘I have seen it myself, Slavka,’ he whispered proudly, ‘the human cub.’

‘Seen it,’ cried Slavka, ‘then tell me what I long to hear.  It is dead?’

Gart dropped his head.

‘No,’ he growled guiltily, ‘there was no way down from the mountain ledge.  And a she-wolf spotted me.  I returned the next sun, but they had gone.’

‘Who is protecting it?’

‘There was a bird with it and three wolves.’

‘Three?’

Gart’s eyes flickered.

‘Two greys and this She-Varg, a white wolf.’

Huttser’s ears cocked forward immediately.  It was all he could do to stop himself letting out a howl.

‘It must be the wolf spoken of in the verse, Slavka.  The legend comes.’

‘Damn you, Gart,’ cried Slavka.  ‘There is an easy way to stop this talk of a legend.  Go back to camp and take more rebel wolves with you.  Hunt them down, Gart.  Kill them.  Kill them all.’

A terrible feeling gripped Huttser’s heart.  Words from long ago echoed through his mind, words about fear and guilt.  Words too from the verse, just as they had echoed in Bran’s mind that terrible day – ‘
Beware the betrayer
.’ Huttser started to shudder beside Slavka.

‘What will you do, Slavka?’ he asked at last and as casually as he could.  He was trying to hide the tension in his voice.  ‘Will you set all the rebels to finding this ... this child?’

‘No, Huttser, I cannot.  If I am not here when the free wolves we have summoned arrive they will not stay for my return.  No, Gart is strong and he will not fail me.’

Slavka did not see the relief in Huttser’s face.

‘Palla,’ he thought suddenly as he listened to Slavka.  ‘I must tell Palla.’

But standing there next to Slavka, Huttser shivered.  A wind came up and, in its howling breath, Huttser felt an even greater ferocity.  Slavka looked around with a sudden cunning.

The wind strengthened and the wolves felt the touch of freezing flakes fizzing on their muzzles once more.  Slavka peered up at the skies and, though she hardly knew why, her own heart began to beat faster.  A savage thought flashed into Slavka’s mind.  The snow got thicker and the wind colder.  The flakes seemed to swell as they fell from the clouds.  Down it came, and soon the sky was so thick with it that the rebels could hardly see one another in the fall.

‘Very well,’ cried Slavka suddenly.  ‘The child has survived so far.  But, with luck, winter’s anger is coming to our aid too.  If this is really Wolfbane’s winter, Huttser, as so many stupid wolves believe, then let their blessed Wolfbane destroy the creature for us.  For nature will aid the rebels’ cause.’

Slavka started to chuckle, and as Huttser stood there, he wanted to spring at her for her cruelty.

Down the snow came and the sky grew dark.  Night came again, and still it snowed.  With the morning the distant, tepid sunlight made the air glow eerily as the freezing fall continued.  For suns it went on snowing, a fall the likes of which had never be seen in Transylvania.

‘Dig, Tsarr, for Tor’s sake, dig.’

The snow was so thick about them as Larka shouted the order that they could see nothing in the storm.  The child was crying bitterly and Larka could see that its little hands were turning blue with cold.  They had moved it from the clearing after Larka had spotted Gart on the mountain, and now they were desperate for shelter.

Tsarr had picked it up in his mouth by the hide as he had carried it before, but it had grown and Tsarr had to struggle desperately with his burden.  They had gone in search of a cave, but they had all been caught in the drift.  Jarla was cradling her body around it, for they were taking turns to shield it from the storm.  Larka knew that if they couldn’t find it some kind of shelter, the child wouldn’t last till morning.

Tsarr dug frantically at the snow beside Larka, heaping the powder behind his glittering, freezing paws, but the blizzard was so thick that he seemed to be making hardly any headway at all.  The ground was turning to ice, too, with the coming night, and the wolves began to leap at the snow, the flakes flurrying off their fur.

‘Larka,’ cried a voice from above suddenly, ‘I can’t help you in this, Larka.  I must find shelter myself.  I wish you luck.’

Larka couldn’t see Skart any longer, but she shuddered as the eagle’s voice wheeled above her and disappeared on the wind.

‘Tsarr,’ she cried, ‘some say that the Sight can give power over the elements.  Do you think—’

‘No, Larka,’ growled Tsarr as he worked away, ‘how could that be? The Sight draws it power from the force within all things, but it does not control that force.  There are many superstitions about the Sight – most of them false.’ Larka suddenly felt a sense of powerlessness against the might of nature, just as she had felt looking on her past in the water, a powerlessness against the elements themselves.  But she was a wolf, and it stirred an anger that made the fight even harder.  Tsarr called to her now, for he had reached beyond the snow to the earth.  But as soon as he began to scrabble at the ground his old heart sank.  The cold had made it as hard as stone.

Larka searched about her desperately.  Her mind was numb with cold, and she could feel the skin beneath her coat beginning to stretch.  She knew in that moment that if they didn’t find an answer soon then it was not only the human child that would be dead.  A great feeling of hopelessness welled up inside her.  Larka could suddenly see Kipcha struggling against the rapids, fighting pointlessly against an inevitable fate.  ‘Death,’ she thought bitterly, ‘it’s all around us, always.’

The memory made Larka sick to her very soul, and suddenly she wanted to give up, to lie down in the snow and let a numbing peace steal through her body.  But even as the emptiness came on her she remembered what Palla had cried to Kipcha from the bank.  ‘Don’t fight it.  Let the water carry you to safety.’ Larka swung her head up as the inspiration flashed through her mind.

‘The snow,’ she cried, ‘we’ll use the snow.’

Larka was scrambling at the snow now, not straight down as they had done before, but into the side of the slope.  Tsarr and Jarla looked on in bewilderment, but as Larka scooped away, the icy surface held and below it a little recess began to appear.  The wolves sprang to Larka’s aid.

Soon a wide cave had appeared, and they found that the ceiling was holding above their snow den.  Tsarr picked up the bawling human and together they crept carefully inside as the snow went on.  It began to heap up at the mouth of their impromptu cave, sealing the entrance almost completely as they watched, and as it did so Larka realized that very gradually the air was growing warmer and warmer.

There they lay, the three frightened wolves and the human child, their breath steaming and smoking about the baby as the strange ice cave glittered around them in the fading light.  Jarla had virtually wrapped her body around the baby again and she could feel it shivering terribly.  It had stopped crying and closed its eyes.

‘Larka,’ whispered Jarla quietly, the echo of her voice muffled by the frozen chamber, ‘I think it’s dying, Larka.’

As she said it Larka suddenly thought of the Sight.  The she-wolf pulled her own body towards the two of them, rolling on her side, and now the baby was pressed gently between the two she-wolves.  For a moment there was something vaguely jealous in Jarla’s eyes, but as Larka began to try and direct the heat through her body, the child stirred and then began to relax.  As the warmth from the two she- wolves flowed into it, Jarla nodded her muzzle and smiled at Larka tenderly, and the baby gurgled softly between them.