Wolf-Speaker

‘She isn’t,’ was the matter-of-fact reply. ‘She cares about how old our family is and how close to the throne we are, not about taking care of Dunlath and looking after our people. And Belden’s as bad as she is. Father said he’s just a younger son, so he has a lot to prove.’

Daine shook her head, thinking you could never tell with nobles. Sometimes they were normal humans, and sometimes they worried about the silliest things.

Maura watched the mice for a moment. ‘I don’t understand. Do they all come up to you that way?’

‘Yes. They like me,’ Daine replied. ‘I like them.’

Maura sighed. ‘I wish they liked me. I get lonesome. She won’t let me play with commoners. All my friends in the village think I’m stuck-up now.’

‘Why should it matter who you play with?’ asked Daine. Go and sit with her, she urged the mice silently, so Maura wouldn’t think Daine felt sorry for her. She’s perfectly nice, you’ll see.

‘I don’t think it should matter to anyone, but she says I have to think of our house and our honour.’ The girl turned a dangerous shade of pink. ‘I care more than she does. She thinks it’s a big secret, but I know what’s going on with her and Tristan. Oh!’ She stared at her lap. A mouse stood there on his hind feet, looking her over. ‘Can I stroke him? Will he mind?’

‘Gently,’ Daine said. She felt sorry for Maura. From the look of things, no one seemed to care what happened to her or what she wanted. ‘They’re shy. If you feed him, he should stay with you.’ Won’t you? she asked the mouse.

If she feeds me, he replied. Please tell her I am partial to fruit. Humans seem to think all we eat is cheese. That’s boring after a while.

Hiding a smile, Daine relayed his words to Maura, who proceeded to stuff him, and his friends. They had gone to sleep in her lap by the time the servants cleared the plates and a bard came in, carrying a lap harp. Taking a seat in front of the nobles, he tuned his instrument as the servants returned to find places around the walls. The bard played traditional songs for an hour or more. Long before he was done, Maura had gone to sleep.

Daine barely listened. Watching the adults at the main table, she realized that here was the opportunity to do what Brokefang expected her to do, deliver his request for a halt to the mining and lumber efforts. She cringed at the thought of giving such a message to these polished, self-assured humans. She also knew Brokefang wouldn’t understand if she held back. Mockery and shame meant nothing to wolves.

I wish they meant nothing to me, either, she thought, making up her mind as the bard ended his last song and left the room. Forcing herself to get up, she walked out into the open space in front of the dais.

Numair looked at her, clearly puzzled. Then he guessed why she was there. He shook his head, trying to signal for her to return to her seat, but Daine fixed her eyes on Dunlath’s lord and lady and ignored him.

Yolane and Belden were deep in conversation. It was Tristan who saw Daine first. Breaking off his talk with Alamid and Gissa, he looked at Daine with a raised eyebrow, then smirked. Gently he tapped Belden on the shoulder. Numair was now pointing at Daine’s seat, giving her a clear order, but she shook her head. He did not have to answer to the pack; she did.

Belden called his wife’s attention to the girl in pink before them. Yolane’s brows snapped together. ‘What is it?’ she asked impatiently.

Daine clenched her hands in the folds of her skirt. ‘Excuse me, my lord. My lady. I’ve been asked to speak to you by the wolves of this valley.’

‘Wolves?’ asked Belden, looking haughty. ‘What can they say to anything?’

‘Plenty,’ the girl said. ‘They live here, too, you see. They take food out of these forests, and they drink from the streams. They told me when they came, this place was near perfect.’ She knew her face was red by now. The huge room had gone completely silent. She’d never felt so small, or so alone, in her life. ‘Then you began digging and cutting down trees. Mine trash has started to poison the northern end of the Long Lake, did you know that? And the digging and the lumbering is scaring the game out of the valley.’

To her surprise, a rough voice in the rear of the hall called, ‘She’s right, about th’ game, at least. I tried to tell ye m’self, three weeks back.’

Daine looked over her shoulder. She had forgotten that the huntsman, Tait, had come to hear the bard. She ventured a smile, and he winked. Drawing her breath, feeling better, she went on. ‘The Long Lake Pack asked me to tell you they want you to stop. If you don’t, they’ll do something drastic.’

‘How do you know this?’ Tristan’s voice was too even and sincere. His eyes danced with amusement. ‘Did the wolves come to you in a dream, perhaps, or—’

‘She has wild magic, Tristan.’ Numair came to stand with Daine, resting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. She smiled up at him in gratitude.

‘Surely you do not yet insist “wild magic” is real,’ scoffed Gissa. ‘You are too old to pursue fables.’

‘It is no fable,’ Numair replied. ‘You and the Carthaki university people are like the blind man who claims sight cannot exist, because he lacks it.’

‘We lost sight of the point of Mistress Sarrasri’s argument.’ There was a strangled note in Yolane’s voice. ‘A pack of four-legged beasts wants us to stop mining. And cutting down trees.’

‘That’s right,’ Daine said, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

‘And – if we don’t’ – the choked sound was thicker than ever in the woman’s throat – ’they’ll do something – drastic. Do you know what? No, of course you don’t. Perhaps – perhaps’ – the strangling began to escape her now, as giggles – ’they will piddle on the castle walls, or – or—’

‘Howl at the sentries,’ Tristan suggested, grinning.

‘Has she been mad for long?’ Yolane asked Numair.

‘You laugh at your peril,’ Numair warned. ‘This is a very different breed of wolf you’re dealing with, Lady Yolane.’

Yolane began to laugh, and laugh hard. Briefly she fought to get herself under control. ‘Maybe they’ll bury their bones in my wardrobe!’ she said, and began to laugh again.

Tristan smirked. ‘Suppose for a moment – just a moment – that you are right. Do you think we can’t deal with a pack of wolves? Brute creation is in this world to serve man – not the other way around. This valley is ruled by humans.’

Daine couldn’t believe what she had heard. ‘Is that what you really think animals are here for?’

‘No. That’s what I know they are for. Men do not shape their concerns for the benefit of wild beasts, my dear.’

Yolane had got herself in hand. ‘You are a foolish child. Master Salmalín has indulged you too much. Why, in Mithros’s name, should I care in the least about the tender feelings of a pack of mangy, flea-bitten curs?’

‘Think selfishly,’ Daine said, trying to make these arrogant two-leggers see what she meant. ‘You can’t go on this way. Soon you will have no forests to get wood from or to hunt game in. You poison water you drink and bathe and fish in. Even if you keep the farms, they won’t be enough to feed you if the rest of the valley’s laid waste. You’ll starve. Your people will starve – unless you buy from outside the valley, and that’s fair expensive. You’ll ruin Dunlath.’

Yolane’s eyes glittered. ‘Who are you to judge me in my own castle?’

‘Daine,’ Numair said quietly.

Daine looked at Yolane, Belden, and Tristan. They stared back at her, sure of themselves and their right to do as they wished. ‘Well, I tried,’ she muttered.

Numair bowed. ‘My lord, my lady – with your good will, we take our leave.’

As they walked out, Daine glanced at Maura. The girl had awakened and now watched Daine with a worried frown. Daine smiled, but her lips trembled a little. She hoped Maura wouldn’t think she was crazy.

Servants left the dining hall ahead of them to fetch their cloaks and to bring their horses. Within minutes they were trotting across the causeway.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t keep my mouth shut when you wanted,’ she said, trying to keep a pleading note out of her voice. ‘I had to speak. Brokefang wouldn’t understand if we came back and said we didn’t say anything to them.’

He reached over to pat her back. ‘I know. Please calm down. You aren’t the kind of girl who plunges without thinking. I wish I were more like you.’

She was glad the darkness covered her blush. It was the highest compliment he had ever paid her. ‘But you don’t plunge without thinking,’ she protested.

‘You mean you haven’t seen me do so. What, pray, was entering that castle tonight? If I were more cautious— Enough. What’s done is done.’ Reaching the innyard, they gave their mounts to the only ostler still up, then went to their rooms. ‘Good night,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

Her door closed behind her, Daine used a glowstone from her belt purse to find her candle, which she lit. Kitten, sprawled on the bed, peeped drowsily.

‘You prob’ly would’ve hated it,’ Daine told her, shedding her clothes. Hanging them up instead of leaving them on the floor, a habit she’d learned in months of living in the Riders’ barracks, she then slipped into her nightshirt. ‘The little girl is nice – Maura. But the grown-ups—’ Daine shook her head as she climbed under the blanket.

Kitten, listening, chirped a question. Though she was too young to hear or to answer in mind-speech as older immortals did, talking to her was never a problem. Kitten understood Common better than some humans they had met. Daine was glad this was so, since from all she had learned in months of study, Kitten would be an infant for thirty years.

‘Well, they look nice, but they’re cold and proud. And something’s wrong. Maura says the mage from Carthak is canoodling with her sister – Lady Yolane, she is.’ Daine yawned. ‘If Lord Belden knows, he doesn’t seem to care. Put out the light, Kit, there’s a girl.’