Black Wolf

Chapter 18

Tarsakh, 1372 DR

Tal woke to the sound of sparrows and the smell of fresh grass. The night's dreams evaporated in the morning air, leaving only a vague sense of contentment. His thoughts remained dreamy even as he rubbed his eyes and rose to stretch.

He was on his feet and was stretching his arms to the sky when the implications of his surroundings sunk in. He stood under a big oak tree surrounded by farmland. To the east he saw the walls of Selgaunt, their gray stone almost blue in the distance.

"Nine Hells!" roared Tal. "Where are my clothes?"

The sparrows burst from the tree, shaking down a few twigs. A big green leaf stuck to his naked chest.

"I hope these will fit," said Feena.

Tal turned to see her approach with a huge pair of homespun trousers and a worn wool tunic obviously meant for a man much shorter and fatter than Tal. Beyond her, Tal saw a sod home and a simple barn. Between the buildings ran a clothesline with several conspicuous gaps.

The events of the previous night became much clearer in Tal's memory.

"This is the worst part of the whole thing," said Tal. "You can't take your clothes with you."

When he saw that Feena wasn't looking at his face, he plucked the leaf from his chest and tried futilely to cover himself with it.

Feena laughed so hard she dropped the clothes to hold her sides. Tal stood indignantly for a moment, then jumped at the chance to grab the clothes and put them on. Feena was still wheezing when he cinched the trousers around his waist.

"You weren't so shy last night," she said in a tone of apology. Tal only blushed more deeply.

"I'm so sorry about that," he said. "I didn't mean…"

"Of course you did, and don't be insulting," said Feena. She was still mirthful enough that her reprimand didn't sting. "I think we both needed it, after all we've been through."

"I mean, I just hoped you didn't…" said Tal, confused, "… that I didn't do anything… anything that you didn't want me to…"

Feena laughed louder. "It wasn't the wolves, if that's what you're trying to say," she reassured him. "It was you and I, and while I can't speak for you, I didn't do anything I didn't want to do." She laughed again at his forlorn expression, and asked, "Why do you look so glum?"

"It might sound stupid, but it feels wrong to be way out here while Chaney's still stuck in the city. I don't want him thinking I've run off to leave him to face the music alone."

"I doubt he thinks that," said Feena. "He knows you aren't running away. The man practically worships you."

Tal snorted.

"I'm serious. You should hear the way he talks about you when you're not around."

"What, you mean all the times the two of you slip off together?" It was an exaggeration, but Tal had noticed that Chaney and Feena showed up together often these days.

"Please, Chaney is just a flirt. On the other hand, he doesn't beat me away with a switch, like some people I could mention."

"I've never-" began Tal. "All right. I could have been friendlier sometimes. But you came on pretty strong. If it weren't for Maleva…"

As he spoke Maleva's name, Tal realized he couldn't put off telling Feena what he'd heard at the Wide Realms. He took a deep breath and steeled himself to deliver the news.

"There's something you should know," he said.

Feena sat with her head on her knees for a long time. Tal waited on the other side of the tree, wishing he could say something useful. After he'd described the fight at the Wide Realms and the taunts the pack had used to draw him out, she'd asked him to go away from her. Not knowing what else to do, he obeyed.

At last, she composed herself and told her about Eck-ert's brush with death and the man she caught watching the theft of the bail money.

"Radu Malveen," said Tal. "He is a dangerous man, but I never thought he was a criminal."

"According to this Darrow, he wants nothing to do with Rusk's plans for you. It's his mad brother who's behind it all."

"But why?"

"Darrow didn't say-or wouldn't. All he cares about is freeing Eckert's daughter."

"Do you trust him?"

"Not even a little."

"But do you believe what he's saying is true?"

"Some of it," she ventured. "But he did nothing to stop Radu from killing Eckert. If he really wants to save the girl, why didn't he try to help her father?"

"He didn't stand a chance," said Tal. "Radu is the best swordsman in the city. I would hesitate before facing him, too."

"Would you?" Feena said sharply. "You're probably twice as strong, now. Wouldn't you just love a good fight, a chance to prove you're better?"

"Why are you snapping at me?"

"Because you spit on everything Selune offers, and she still gives everything to you. You don't deserve to be the Black Wolf."

"What makes you think I'm the Black Wolf after calling it a heresy for so long?"

"Your changing in the playhouse, that's something only true lycanthropes can do. Even we don't have that level of control over the transformation. Only the Black Wolf could do that."

"I thought you didn't believe in the Black Wolf."

"It's a heresy, you idiot! I'm not allowed to believe it, but that doesn't mean it's not true on some level. Maybe it has nothing to do with prophecy or fate," she said. "If there's any truth to it, then it's old mortal wisdom."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe the 'Black Wolf is just a metaphor for your own strength," she said.

"You make it sound like anyone could be the Black Wolf."

"Maybe anyone can," she said. "Anyone can learn to ride the moon. Maybe being the Black Wolf means you're so close to the moon that it's easy for you. It's a gift. I just never thought it would be wasted on some spoiled, conceited city boy!"

"Hey, I didn't ask for any of this," complained Tal. "Everything that's happened has happened to me. You're the ones who decided to keep me drugged while you decided whether or not to kill me. Rusk is the one who tried to kill me in the first place. I didn't do anything to you people."

" "You people,' " she parroted. "Anybody else is 'you people' to you."

"That's not fair! I meant everyone who came looking for me, to tell me what to-"

"I can't believe Mother saw anything in you. You're spoiled and selfish! You don't see anything beyond your own desires. The Black Wolf isn't for someone like you. It should be for someone who cares about other people, someone like-"

"Like you, maybe?" Tal snapped. "You're jealous, aren't you? Well, as far as I'm concerned, you can have the Black Wolf and everything that goes with it. But Selune didn't choose you, she chose me. All you can do is try to make me do what you think is best."

Peena balled her fists and trembled in her fury. She tried to speak but could only grimace and spit incoherent curses. Then a triumphant smile crossed her lips, and she raised her chin and looked at Tal through slitted eyes.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, all you care about is making me do what you want me to-"

"No, before that. You said Selune chose you."

"I didn't mean…" Tal sputtered. "I mean… you know what I meant. I've got the Black Wolf in me, and you wish it were in you."

"Selune did choose you, though," said Feena. She flexed her fingers to let the blood back into them. She took a couple of long, slow breaths before continuing. "I can't keep denying it. There is good in you; I've seen it. You're just so damned stubborn you won't let yourself accept the responsibility."

"What responsibility? A great big bloody wolf bites me and all of a sudden I have responsibilities?"

Feena laughed, as much at herself as at Tal. The sound was strained. The news of her mother's death was still gnawing at her, and she was putting on a brave face.

"I'm sorry, Tal. It's been easier for me, growing up with the wolf. I have to remember it's not the same for you." Her smile turned sad. "Mother did think a lot of you, you know. She was a good judge of character."

"Are you sure she's dead?" asked Tal, even though he too believed the pack's boasts. "Rusk isn't exactly what I'd call trustworthy, and he's cruel enough to lie about something like that."

"Rusk is many things, many bad things," said Feena, "but he's honest, in his way. He doesn't lie to others so much as he deludes himself."

"You've run into him often over the years?"

Feena hesitated before answering. "Not as often as I'd have liked."

She sounded as if there was more to tell, but she stopped talking.

"He and Maleva, they knew each other a long time," suggested Tal, hoping to encourage her to continue.

His own words triggered something in his imagination. A shape of past events was forming in Tal's mind. Feena had been born with the wolf inside her, but Maleva wasn't a nightwalker. Assuming they were rare beings…

"Oh," said Tal as the realization struck him.

Feena still did not speak, nor would she look at him. Tal tried to make eye contact, but she kept her gaze on the ground.

"Rusk is your father," he said.

Without raising her eyes, Feena nodded.

"Oh, no." That made everything much worse. "Oh, Feena." Tal put a big hand on her slender arm. Feena flinched but didn't pull away. "I'm sorry. It seems so obvious now. I should have realized."

Feena glanced at Tal's face, but whatever she saw there made her shy again. She turned away and hugged her arms tight to her chest. When she spoke, it was with her back to Tal.

"He roamed with his Hunt, as he called them, so we saw him only when he brought us meat every month. In the beginning, Mother was always happy to see him, and he'd stay for a day or two. When he was off again, she told me stories about him. He was her hero.

"When he was just a boy, a cleric of Malar did a divination for him. The old man said that Rusk would cast a shadow on the moon. Everyone knew that meant the Black Wolf, which the clerics of Malar hold as true prophecy. No one knew when it would happen, but everyone believed it, especially Mother. She was banished from Moonshadow Hall because she said as much to the high priestess there. She thought Rusk would be the one to put the nightwalk-ers back in harmony with the world.

"On holidays we'd go with him to the Feast of the Stags. Everyone knew Rusk the Hunter. He was the best tracker, the best provider. When he came to a village and promised the people meat throughout the winter, they knew they would not go hungry. We were so proud of him. I was proud to be his daughter. The Huntmaster's Daughter, I called myself. Mother didn't like that, but I thought she was jealous. I was a child…"

She trailed off, sniffed, and cleared her throat, but Tal could see by the set of her shoulders that she had more to tell. He wanted to touch her, to hold her perhaps. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, but he could think of nothing. He waited patiently while the autumn wind blew fire-colored leaves about their legs, their fragile edges scratching on their clothes and naked feet. After long minutes, Feena spoke again.

"The arguments began just before my first blood. Mother had begun sending me away when Rusk came, but I sneaked back and listened. Rusk knew the wolf would come with the blood, and he wanted to take me to the High Hunt that summer. Mother wouldn't allow it. She said Rusk had promised to change the Hunt. He told her change takes time, but now I think he never wanted it to be different from what it was. Do you know about the High Hunts?"

"Yes," said Tal. "I found some books in my father's library. It's what they did to me. It's when they hunt a man."

"Or a woman," said Feena. "If she evades them all night, she keeps her life and wins a boon."

"So, what? Rusk owes me a wish?"

"He's not a genie, Tal," said Feena impatiently. "He's just a man, a werewolf. A cleric of Malar. Besides, that wasn't a High Hunt. Normally, the prey is feasted and knows what's happening from the start. It was because of the High Hunts that Mother left him. She didn't want me killing people the way he did. She wanted him to be the Black Wolf and change all the ceremonies back to something that served people rather than treating them like prey."

"If it wasn't a High Hunt, why did he attack me?" asked Tal. "And not just me but a whole group of us. I'm just the one clever enough to throw himself off a cliff and escape."

Feena didn't notice his attempt at humor. "I don't know. Maybe he really did mean to kill you all. You were encroaching on his territory."

"Maybe," said Tal, "but why follow me back to Sel-gaunt?"

"Mother thought it was because the prophecy about Rusk was both right and wrong. The part about the shadow makes it sound like he wouldn't be the Black Wolf, but he might bring the Black Wolf into being. After their last argument about me, Mother took us both away from the woods and we hid from Rusk. She didn't want me running off to a High Hunt to become like my father."

"She protected you," said Tal. "And she was trying to protect me, too. Wasn't she?"

"She believed you are the Black Wolf, Tal." Feena turned back to look him in the face. Tal had expected tears, but her cheeks were dry. Her anger was gone, but all of its steel remained in her face. "It's been hard to accept, but I realize she was right." She looked at Tal pointedly.

"And now you want to know what I'm going to do with this 'gift'?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll help you."

"No matter what I decide to do with it?"

She hesitated only a moment. "Yes," she said. "I know you aren't like Rusk. At first I thought you were, since you both refuse to listen to anyone else. But you aren't cruel, Tal, and I think you really do care about people. You're just no good at showing it."

"I show it," said Tal a little defensively.

"You're very polite," said Feena. Her smile returned, or at least an echo of it. The sight gave Tal a tickling sensation just below his heart. He liked the little crinkles at the edges of her mouth, and the way her freckles wrinkled on her nose. "And you're even nice, but that isn't enough. Sometimes you have to take action to make things better."

"Like what?"

"I thought you didn't want me telling you what to do."

"Fair enough," admitted Tal.

Now they were both smiling, and somehow they'd gotten a lot closer without Tal's realizing it. He could smell her skin and her hair mingling with the sweet scent of autumn leaves and pumpkins. He made up his mind and kissed her on the cheek. Then he took her hand and began walking back toward the city walls, drawing her along.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed, trying to keep up without being pulled.

"Deciding what to do," he replied breezily.

In truth, he had made no decision. He had only the barest inkling of how to slip back into Selgaunt without being arrested again, and he had no idea how to clear his name after the death of the other wolf. But he felt good for the first time in days. At last he realized that he didn't have to wait for things to come to him. He could take the fight to Rusk. And while the gray wolf might have brought his wolves to the city, Tal had a pack of his own.

And Selgaunt was their territory.

They decided not to risk stealing shoes, so they walked barefoot along the Way of the Manticore and reached the city gates before noon. Normally, visitors would stop by the Outlook Inn for refreshment before joining the queue to enter Selgaunt, but they had no money, and Tal did not dare trade on his family name. He might as well walk straight up to the guards and start barking.

The Scepters at the gate were interested only in collecting taxes on goods. Tal and Feena simply walked past the men, who waved them by with only the barest glance. If their ill-fitting clothes made them conspicuous, it was only as a pair of rude country folk.

They turned left onto Rauncel's Ride and walked quickly through the stockyards. The smell of so many animals penned nearby was not normally appetizing, but Tal felt a hollow pang in his stomach and remembered that he had not eaten since the morning before. He thought a dire warning to his stomach, which growled back at him.

Tal breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to the cloth market, where they could blend anonymously into the mix of country sellers and the servants who had come to shop for household goods. It was unlikely that Tal would encounter any of his peers there.

"If I don't find Chaney at your tallhouse," said Feena, "I'll check the Wide Realms. Either way, I’ll talk to Eckert and meet you before-"

"Tal!" shouted a young woman's voice.

Tal recognized it at once and winced. Before he could pretend he hadn't heard, their eyes met. Hers were such a light hazel that they appeared almost yellow at a distance. Russet hair spilled carelessly from beneath a shapeless brown scarf. The rest of her attire was just as unruly, for Larajin had never been one for primping, much less fashion or cosmetics. Nevertheless, her careless dress did little to conceal her unadorned beauty.

"Who is she?" asked Feena, craning her neck for a better view of Larajin, who was momentarily hidden in the press.

"Larajin," he said with a sigh. "One of my father's… servants."

Feena gave him a curious look, then tried to spot the young woman again.

"I'd better deal with this myself," he said. "Go on, and I'll meet you later."

Feena eyed him suspiciously then slipped away. Tal knew he would have some more explaining to do soon.

When Tal turned back to spot her, Larajin had already navigated the crowd and stood before him, a tall stack of parcels in her arms.

"Where have you been?" said Larajin, awkwardly shifting the packages. Tal took half of them from her, and she smiled her thanks.

"I spent the night outside the city," he said, feeling ridiculous in the clothes.

"I wasn't talking about your costume," she said. "I meant where have you been for the past year and a half?"

"Oh." Tal assumed she'd heard about his arrest, but Thamalon must have somehow kept the scandal from the house staff. He was good at that. "Well, I'm almost never at Stormweather."

"I've seen you there plenty of times," she said. Tal had not heard her sound so vexed since he was eight years old, and Larajin was charged with keeping him out of mischief. "You've been avoiding me, and I want to know why."

"Avoiding you? Of course I haven't…"

Larajin looked up at Tal's face. "Have you gotten taller?"

"What? No. I don't think so. That's not possible, is it?" He knew he had put on a lot of weight, a lot of muscle, but how could he be growing taller?

"Oh, you're standing on the curb," she said, stepping closer. Her arms pressed against Tal's hip, and he stepped away too quickly.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I'm always happy to see you," he said. As usual when he was off the stage, he sounded as convincing as a Mul-horandi rug merchant.

"Then why do you run off whenever I see you?"

"I don't…" Tal began, but the lie died on his lips.

"What was all that talk about our being friends if this is the way you treat me?" she said.

He remembered the conversation they'd had shortly after Rusk attacked him in the Arch Wood. Even over the buzz of the crowd, there was no mistaking the irritation in her voice.

Before he could defend himself, she went on. "The last time we talked, you scolded me for acting like a servant instead of your friend."

"No," said Tal, remembering his shame and anger after their last meeting. "The last time we talked, Thamalon dragged me off for a lecture on fraternizing with the help."

"What?"

"Why do you find that so surprising? Of course he'd want to keep you to himself." Thamalon had never come out and said so, but there was no doubt he was claiming Larajin as his property when he scolded Tal for being too familiar with her.

"So he told you…?"

"He said enough that I could figure out the rest. I'm not as thick as everyone thinks," Tal said.

"And you're upset about it."

"Of course I'm upset! Thamalon acts like some paragon of honor and integrity, but he's the biggest hypocrite in Selgaunt. I can't believe he keeps you at Stormweather, especially after he and Mother started getting along again last winter."

Larajin's chin sank. "I've often felt terrible about that," she said.

"Then why don't you leave?" he said, more harshly than he expected. He realized for the first time that he'd been as angry with Larajin as he had been with Thamalon. "Haven't you caused enough trouble? After Mother gave up her whole life for the rest of us, how can you stay in her sight? She deserves better."

Tears welled in Larajin's eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they rolled down her cheeks. "I know," she said. "I know. Often I've wanted to tell her myself, but I could never work up the courage."

"Oh, I think she knows."

"Do you really?"

"How could she not see it? I bet she's kept quiet only to save the family reputation."

"I'm sorry!" said Larajin, defiantly. "You should have said something sooner if you felt so strongly about it. I was going to tell you that last time we spoke."

"You were going to tell me? Did you think I'd be happy to hear it?"

"You always treated me like a sister anyway," she said.

"Like a sister? How could I think of you that way when you're sleeping with my own father?"

"What?"

"That makes it even worse," he said. "It's bad enough that you're his mistress without acting like you're part of the family."

Larajin slapped his face. He barely felt the blow, but it shocked him nonetheless. Larajin's eyes hardened. It was the first time Tal had seen her truly angry with him. The sight made his stomach shrink.

"How could you think that?" She dropped her packages and punched him in the arm. The crowd began to move away from them, forming a small clearing around their argument.

"Ow! Yes, well-"

"You thought I was his mistress?" She kicked him on the shin.

"Ow! No! I mean, obviously, you're not." He scooped up some of the fallen packages and smiled awkwardly at the people who had begun to stare.

"That's revolting!"

"I know. I thought so, too. Ow! Quit it!" he said, trying to use the packages as a shield.

Larajin held up both fists as if to redouble her pummel-ing, but then she saw the confusion on Tal's face.

"You assumed… he never told you!" Larajin's fury transformed to astonishment. "After all that has happened this year, he never told you the truth?"

"What is the truth?" Tal asked, keeping an eye on her fists.

Larajin watched Tal's face carefully, alert for any trace of subterfuge. Satisfied that he wasn't acting a part for her, she shook her head and smiled as she had years before, when they were children.

"I should probably leave it to Lord Uskevren to explain," she said tentatively.

"Obviously, he doesn't tell me the truth," protested Tal. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not Lord Uskevren's mistress," said Larajin. "I'm his daughter."

Tal felt dizzy. "His what?"

"Your half sister."

Since their quarrel subsided, the jostling crowd pressed in on them again. Tal felt seasick in the tide of bobbing heads. He wanted to sit down. He wanted a drink of ale. More than either of those, he wanted to hear that he'd just misunderstood what he thought he'd heard. No matter how fantastic it seemed, it did explain some things.

Larajin seemed to read his mind. "That's why he was so upset when he thought you and I were…"

"When he thought you and / were doing what I thought you and he were doing."

"Yes."

Tal stood still for a few moments looking over the market crowd toward the heart of the city. In the distance, the morning sun set the spires and towers of central Selgaunt to gleaming. Dozens of family crests waved in the sea breeze, their bright colors creating the illusion of a blooming garden.

"Larajin, I don't know how to begin apologizing."

"Try anyway," she said. Indignation lingered in her tone.

"I am unutterably sorry," he began. "The fault is entirely mine." He paused, torn between inventing a more formal apology and wondering at the ramifications of what he had just learned.

"Say more things like that."

"I couldn't have been more wrong," he added. "None of this confusion would have happened if I weren't born an idiot."

"That part isn't your fault," said Larajin. "It's hereditary." She covered her mouth like a child who'd just said a naughty word in range of her parents. Then she laughed.

"At least among the Uskevren men," agreed Tal.

"Right."

Tal salvaged the dropped parcels, and they stood a while in silence as the crowd jostled them.

"Want to help me carry these back to Stormweather?"

"I… I can't at the moment. There are some things I have to do first."

"Like finding a set of clothes that fit?" Larajin plucked at the fabric of his stolen shirt.

"Among other things," said Tal. "Listen, there are some things happening lately… I have to deal with them. It means I won't be around Stormweather for a little while longer, but I'll come back soon. And I promise not to avoid you."

"Yes, master Talbot," she said. "Whatever you say, master Talbot."

"Oh, stop it. Even before we knew you're my sister-"

"Not so loud!" warned Larajin. "I haven't told anyone else."

"Why not? He's got to recognize you, doesn't he?"

"Maybe he is thinking of Lady Shamur."

"Oh," said Tal.

Thamalon might not be keeping a mistress these days, but Larajin was born after Tamlin. That much was obvious. Now that his parents were getting along so much better these days, Tal saw why Thamalon might choose not to disturb the past.

"But don't you deserve to be recognized as an Uskevren?"

"I thought about that," said Larajin. "Perhaps one day that's what I will want. For now, there are too many other changes happening in my life. I'm not ready to begin a new one."

"I know what you mean," said Tal. "Everything was a lot simpler when we were young."

"We're still young, you great goof. We're just not children anymore."

"Maybe that's why it used to be a lot easier."