Night of the Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

entered. “How did you find Dryas?” he asked.
    “Very like the men,” Mir answered, taking the seat across from him. “It’s disappointing. Somehow one expects more from women. I can’t think why. But we turn to them when we have exhausted our strength and our solutions, as if they don’t share the same weakness and faults we do. As if they might bring a new eye and finally loose the leashings of our Gordian knots without a sword. But I do believe she will help my ‘wife.’ It is the first time I’ve ever seen the child show trust to anyone.”
    Dryas entered just then. She carried her mantle and was freshly washed. She, too, took a seat at the table. “I suppose I should be flattered to be compared to a man, but I can’t say that I am, and I have no solutions for your problems. And you, Mir, as for your wife, there’s little enough I can do for her, trust or no. The damage is already done. I left her a few medicines that will ease her pain and even one that will permanently end it, if she so chooses; and I listened to her tale.”
    Mir’s head jerked up in surprise. “She spoke!”
    “To me, yes,” Dryas said. “We are known to each other. I met her family; they were a great one. She may be the last remaining living member. The Romans killed or enslaved the rest.”
    “Then she’s not mad?” Mir asked.
    “Oh, yes, she is,” Dryas said. “But she is lucid about certain things sometimes. She can grow most of the simples I left her in the garden. She tends it, does she not?”
    “Yes.” Mir nodded.
    “By the way,” Dryas asked, “what is her name?”
    “I don’t remember.” Mir avoided her gaze.
    “Good,” Dryas said. “Continue not to remember. It’s just as well. Now, if you please, give me some of that wine and tell me about the wolf, in that order.”
    Mir and Blaze stared at each other. They both looked uncomfortable. Dryas sighed and reached for a cup and the jug herself
    “I believe you are the senior,” Mir said guilelessly to Blaze.
    “And I believe you are the best acquainted with the problem,” Blaze returned smoothly.
    Dryas poured herself some wine. “While you are each trying to get the other to precede you through the door, I believe I’ll have a drink.”
     
    After the mother of the pack died, the winter did not go well. The oldest female, she who knows always where to go to find prey, failed. She died in the grayness; the stony hardness of midwinter. She lay down to sleep in the snow with the rest and did not awaken in the morning. He was deprived of her counsel as well.
    The virgin females fought with escalating fury for the position of pack mother. The most promising two inflicted such dreadful injuries on each other that both died, leaving a third the winner by default. This greatly cut the pack’s hunting ability since they had been the swiftest and most dangerous killers. Their loss taxed all his cunning and ability.
    In the spring he was, of course, at the disposal of the winning female. She was a rangy, nervous bitch, very jealous of her prerogatives as pack mother. She constantly harassed the remaining females. This led to endless squabbling and ill temper among the younger pack members.
    Despite his feeling of coldness toward her, he would have accommodated her desires. She had, after all, earned the mother right. This was what pack law demanded of him—that he meet her graciously as a mate and then assist in rearing her offspring.
    But to his mild surprise, she showed no interest in him at all and took up with two males who were all that remained of the pack destroyed by the Romans. This was also her right, that she choose her own partners if she wished. He might have asserted himself more strongly. Other leaders would have, but he was more relieved than otherwise at her decision and left her alone.
    She returned from her forays, finally satisfied, pregnant, and much calmer than when she left, and he found himself pleased not to be bothered about her