<
“Jacob. I like that.”
Mav Wyrms-Foe smiled down at his wife and newborn son. Sheryl Sings-Brightly was exhausted and panting, and yet she glowed, beaming down at the pup who was nuzzling against her. A breeze of fresh air flushed through the cavern, crisp and dry, blowing out of the north instead of the usual stench from the southwestern wastes. Mav inhaled deeply of the scents, appreciating the omen of change.
She nodded. “Jacob.” The pup crooned softly against her breast, nipping her softly as his eyes fluttered open. Sings-Brightly settled back into the worn mattress and stroked her young son’s forehead. Jacob’s eyes flinched closed as the single working light above flickered rapidly, and she began humming to soothe him.
“So shall he be.” The voice of Paul Swift-Striker, the pack’s Alpha, rumbled through the cave, and was echoed by the seventeen other garou circling the new parents.
“In times past, a pup born to two garou parents was something to be reviled.” Paul glanced down at the newborn. “But in these desperate times, we recognize him as one of the greatest gifts we can receive.”
“Jacob, born under the philodox moon, I name thee a member of the desert settlers pack, and pledge us to bring you to serve Gaia.”
* * *
<
“Jacob! Where have you been?”
Jacob winced at the tone of his mother’s voice and sighed. She just doesn’t get that I’m old enough to take care of myself. I maybe young, but my blood is that of a wolf.
“I was listening to the wind, out on the mesa. I told you I was going – Terrel was with me.”
“Terrel is even younger than you are,” Sheryl said disapprovingly. “And there are always brigands around, especially with all those caves.
“Not that I can seem to drum any sense into your thick skull, however much I try. Sometimes I wonder if you should have been born an Ahroun, as reckless as you seem.”
Jacob winced, knowing how quickly his mother’s temper could spiral when considering some of his father’s exploits. He tried to derail her before she could build up a full head of steam.
“All right! I’m sorry! Never again! Not without one of the elders during lessons, I promise.”
May scowled at him for several long moments and he hung his head, hoping…
Finally she sighed. “Now if only you meant it this time. Get along.”
Jacob scurried into the cavern before his mother could change her mind and get angry again. She had the quick-temper and shifting moods common to ragabash, and though her storytelling was a wonder to behold, her fury was equally impressive.
“You know I just worry about you, Jacob. Since we lost your father to those Irries, I worry about you all the time.”
Jacob flushed with embarrassment and shame and stopped on the stone stairs. “I know, mom. Sorry. I mean it.”
He turned back and made his way to their rooms, the bounce gone from his step.
* * *
<
Terrel backed up to Jacob, swearing. “We’re in the crap now!”
The ahroun swung his klaive to the right, gutting one of the raiders, but three more scrambled over the lip of the mesa.
“This is all your fault, you know,” Jacob growled. “I said we should try and talk our way out but noooo…”
He slashed out with one of his claws and separated another of the human’s head from her shoulders. The two garou, both in crinos, circled back to back as the six remaining men stayed just out of reach.
“You had to insult them.”
Terrel snickered. “You talk too much, Jake. It’s not like we can’t take them.” He grinned, showing his teeth to the surviving Irries.
The men looked at each other, and indecision warred with anger for just a moment before the anger won out and they charged the two young lupines as one.
Jacob and Terrel gave in to their training and fought like a single being. Terrel swung the klaive through two of the men, blocking the spear thrust of a third while Jacob grabbed the base of the spear and flipped the man over the cliff’s edge. Without breaking stride, they swung around with elbows locked and slashed out with claws at their surprised opponents, leaving only one to flee the onslaught of teeth and claws.
* * *
<
The pack trooped across the desert silently. Fully a third of their number had been slaughtered by the Black Spirals, and the rest had been forced to flee the overwhelming force of wyrm-servants. Jacob’s mother had been amongst the first killed, and Terrel’s parents had fallen covering the retreat. The two friends trudged along, wordlessly drawing strength from each other’s presence.
After several days, Isriya Lily’s Voice, the pack’s ranking storyteller, called a halt. She had sensed the call of another caern to the north, and they had to decide whether to seek this one, or continue westward and put more distance between themselves and the Spirals.
Jacob argued eloquently in favor of seeking out this new caern, in the interest of quickly rebuilding the pack’s strength and setting up a strong defense. Legan, another philodox of Jacob’s rank, contested him. He argued that the Spirals would almost certainly detect this caern as well, but the majority of the pack was tired of running, and sided with Jacob.
Two days later, the pack crested a hill and beheld a startling field of green. A small river had been tapped for irrigation and several stalks of corn swayed in the breeze. A dozen humans stopped what they were doing in the fields, and half ran for the cliff dwellings on the opposite side of the river while the remainder formed a line between the lupines and the field.
“Damn”, Isriya cursed under her breath. “I never expected this…I don’t know…”
“They’ve obviously tapped the power of the caern somehow.” Even Jacob was surprised at his own audacity to speak out like this.
Terrel jabbed him in the ribs. “Not now, Talks-too-much!”
But Isriya was looking at him now. “No, you have something to say. Continue.”
The humans were holding their line, seemingly confused by the halt of the invaders.
“Ah…”,
Jacob stammered. “I just thought that
they seem to be tapping the caern to help their
settlement.” His voice gained strength
and his theory came together. “Their
subconscious desires for stability, for defense, for healthy crops. The dwellings are old, and we know the
“To have such a successful home with so few people, something must be protecting them, and yet that same something called to us.”
He turned to the de facto Alpha. “Lady Isriya, perhaps we are meant to help them.”
“This is nonsense!” An enormous Ahroun, Bloodfang, grabbed Jacob’s shirt, threw him to the ground, and addressed Isriya. “We should just slaughter them and take the caern! We need it if we’re ever to have our revenge!”
Isriya frowned. “I had not named you Bloodfang. Though the pup has not yet been named, I had granted him audience, and to interrupt him is to interrupt m-“
“I claim challenge right.” There was no hesitation in Jacob’s voice now, as he stood up. His features shifted from the normal homid form he maintained, limbs lengthening and strengthening, until he matched, nearly, the size of the crinos ahroun.
Terrel gasped, and grabbed his friend’s arm. “Jake…”
Bloodfang scoffed. “Why not try again in a couple years when you’ve some hair on your-“
“The challenge is issued, Bloodfang.” Isriya frowned at the both of them. “I urge you to decline, and apologize. And Jacob, I urge you to withdraw your challenge. Our numbers are depleted enough without fighting each other.”
“I will not back down from a nameless pup.” Bloodfang sneered at Jacob.
The metis stood his ground. “I will not withdraw my challenge.”
Isriya closed her eyes and sighed. “So be it.”
Jacob and Bloodfang faced off with each other as the watching humans exchanged puzzled looks.
“I always thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Terrel muttered. “Here, you’re going to need this.” He pressed his klaive into Jacob’s hand and clapped his friend on the back. “Good skill.”
Jacob shot his friend a wry grin and turned back to Bloodfang as the elder ahroun leapt. Jacob ducked under the charge and slashed upward with the klaive. Both crinos sprung back onto their feet and turned to face each other again.
“First blood to you, pup”, Bloodfang grinned as he glanced at the small scratch on his left arm. “But now it’s my turn.”
Jacob was younger, smaller, less experienced. He wasn’t nearly as strong, and had learned most of his fighting style from the angry ahroun he now faced in challenge. But, perhaps he could turn that against his elder.
Bloodfang charged again, and again Jacob made to duck, this time to the right, but timed a jump instead as Bloodfang crouched and aimed a blow for the younger garou’s stomach. His old teacher would assume Jacob was trying a similar maneuver that had worked before, and –
Pain lanced across his back as the elder stopped dead in his tracks and pivoted, slicing across the top of Jacob’s shoulders with his klaive.
Jacob howled in rage and tried to spin and counterattack, but his arms wouldn’t respond. Terrel’s klaive dropped from his fingers as Bloodfang grabbed his neck and forced him to his knees.
“Did you really think you could fool me, pup?” The tip of Bloodfang’s klaive made its way to the underside of Jacob’s chin. “Still, it almost worked. Once.”
Bloodfang turned to Isriya. “I claim victory over my opponent, Alpha. But he fought with courage and skill, and I will accept your judgement.”
“That is good, for I think your display has discouraged the humans from attacking us. And they may be more amenable to cooperation knowing what we are capable of.”
“My judgement is that the pup should live. As his reward for his bravery, I think he has earned his name.” A wicked smile played across her lips. “And as a reminder of his rashness, I think his friend has provided the perfect choice.”
Bloodfang released the young philodox stepped back, wiping his klaive clean and sheathing it.
“Arise,” Isriya said formally, “Jacob Talks-Too-Much, Philodox of the desert settlers.”
Jacob shakily got to his feet and bowed, first to Bloodfang, then to his…his…Alpha. Then he turned to Terrel. “Thanks a lot.”
Terrel smirked. “Hey, at least you didn’t dishonor my klaive too badly.”
Bloodfang grunted. “That raised a good point, though. Many of our warriors fell to the Spirals, and their klaives need new masters.” Reaching into his backpack, he retrieved one of the honored blades and offered it to Jacob. “His name is fast-striker. May his speed compliment your own.”
Jacob accepted the blade and reverently hung it from his belt, bowing
to the Ahroun once more.
“Don’t get too excited, Talks.
Now I get to teach you how to use it.”
* * *
<
Two years later, the Desert Settlers had integrated into life amongst
the cliff-dwellers. Jacob had prospered
under Bloodfang’s tutelage and could now defeat Terrel more often than he lost. He also became friends with several of the
people from the settlement through the course of his duties.
Isriya, for his forwardness, had assigned him the task of intermediary
with the humans, and suspicions had turned to respect,
and some level of friendship with time and shared adversity.
The garou provided much needed security for the humans, their homes,
and their crops. Other families had
joined the settlement, and their initial discomfort
evaporated one November night when a group of raiders had attacked, bent on
seizing the food stores that had been carefully prepared for the winter.
The lupines had shredded the attackers, and word spread that the
potential gains in raiding the settlement were far outweighed by the
risks. As the word spread, it had the
surprising side effect of drawing some of the raider tribes to the settlement –
not to attack, but to join forces with the pocket of stability that had begun
to emerge.
© 2003 by Blake Sorensen