So in the Prologue way back in July, I explained how Duncan
was bitten by a vampire and how Aine, the queen of Summer came with some blood
to feed him because her sister Khione said it would help.
Chapter
1
I
sat behind my large oaken desk and listened to the duties that my steward,
Andarvi, was reading to me from a list that was almost as long as he was. He
was sitting down in the chair opposite me, but that only made the long and tedious
list curl under the desk and brush my bare toes where I had them stretched out
in front of me. As I listened to Andarvi tell me that so and so had a baby and
that I should probably go visit, my mind wandered. I started thinking about
getting away from all the responsibility for a few days, of taking a vacation.
My friend, Tristan, had been trying to get me to visit him in the Mortal World
for years; perhaps it was time I took him up on it...
“My
lord,” Andarvi suddenly asked, a little testily, “are you even listening?”
My
hand snapped away from the black tail resting against my thigh and I looked at
the dwarf a little sheepishly. “My apologies, Andarvi. My mind wandered.”
Andarvi
smiled at me then, and I was suddenly reminded of the time he let me help him
polish the silverware when I was a very small pup. He and his wife had been
with my family for years and I knew they were devoted to me and my extended
clan. “Apology accepted, Master Duncan,” he told me, using the familiar term
that he had used when I had been a small child. “It is a rather long list.” We
both laughed at that and Andarvi continued. “I think the only urgent matter
today is the Coopers’ chickens.”
“What
about them?” I asked idly, starting to drift a little again.
“Something
attacked them last night. According to Master Cooper, the attacker killed all
but three of them and ate at least two of them,” Andarvi replied with concern.
My
eyes widened slightly, wondering what monster had managed to creep onto my land
to do this. Perhaps it was time to mark again. I had not marked the village in
over a year because it had a tendency to make the domestic animals nervous, but
if something was attacking my property... I rose slowly from my seat and turned
and faced my small steward, “I will go and investigate,” I promised and then
limped towards my room to find my boots that I had lying near my bed and my
cane that was propped up in front of the chair. I hesitated for a moment at my
closet, wondering if I should change before going out. Usually around my own
home I would wear the kilt blazoned with the plaid common to our house. It was
comfortable, easy to put on, and gave plenty of room for my tail. But
sometimes, the sight of a wolf tail made people not Wolves nervous. All of my
tenants knew what manner of man they served, but I wondered that in light of
current events advertising the fact that I was not exactly your normal elf was
a good idea. In the end, I decided to put on my “public clothes” before leaving
the house. Almost as if I had called him, my valet, a small pixie named Orris
that I had saved during the last war, came flitting in, the gold “dust” of his
kind trailing behind him. “Going out, Milord?” he asked me, his little green
eyes fluttering over me.
“Yes,”
I simply told him, explaining the mystery of the dead chickens.
“How
absolutely horrid, Milord. Please express my deepest sympathy to the Coopers,”
Orris remarked.
“I
will,” I told him, smiling at my little friend.
He
smiled back and then turned to my closet. Looking at the clothes hanging in
solid black and white rows, he brought his wings forward so that they were
pointing at the closet and taking a handful of dust from a pouch around his
waist, blew it gently towards my clothing, whispering a few words in the
ancient pixie tongue. He then returned his gaze to me and repeated the process
with the clothes I already had on. The clothes, in their usual whirlwind of
activity traded places so that I was soon dressed like a proper gentleman and
my kilt and such were hung back in their customary place in the closet. A
slight smile tugged again at the corner of my mouth. “No matter how many times
I see that trick it still amazes me,” I told the pixie.
“Well,
I need to do something, Milord. I cannot lift the clothes without magic and you
may dismiss me if I do not do it well,” he said, smiling cheekily at me.
“That
will never happen,” I assured him quietly. I then walked over to the side wall,
and pressed a lever down with my foot, the side of the wall swung out and I
beheld the green fields of my land on the edge of the forest. The wall was
built by my father for night runs. It was so much easier to press with a paw then
try to get a door handle to work when you had not hands. I then stepped out the
door and made my way to the Coopers’ house that lay at the entrance to the
woods.
I
limped slowly up the hill, trying not to let others see how much I leaned on my
cane. Even though I knew I was in no danger in my own lands, my father had
always taught me that it was better not to show any weakness if possible. But
today it seemed to be worst than usual, and I could not get it to bend at all.
Sighing, I finally reached the house of the Coopers. I could see the remnant of
chickens lying on the ground around the house and blood seemed to be
everywhere. I stopped and sniffed trying to catch a whiff of whatever had
slaughtered the chickens in such a brutal manner. The scent that I caught made
me pause and nearly boil over with anger. I took a few deep breaths, letting
them out slowly, to try to calm myself. It would not do for me to lose my
temper and shift in front of the house. These were some of my best clothes!
Instead, I walked as steadily as I could to the front door and rapped on it
with the head of my cane.
Conan
Cooper opened the door. “Thank you for coming, Milord,” he said bowing his head
low. “We would not seek to bother you, but whatever could do that to our chickens
may go after people later.”
“It
was no trouble, I assure you, Master Cooper. In fact, if my nose serves me
right, this may be of personal insult to me,” I said with my customary
close-lipped smile. “May I come in?”
Conan
stepped aside and I entered into the doorway, sniffing the air appreciatively as
I caught the whiffs of the stew that Mary Cooper was stirring over the open
fire in the fireplace; their children Canagan and Alice sat in the middle of
the floor playing with some sticks and pebbles.
Mary
turned towards me with a smile, “Milord, welcome. I do not think you have been
over since Alice was born. Would you like some tea?”
“Tea
would be nice,” I told the woman as I sat down in a chair at the small table.
As the lady of the house bustled around her small fire, I considered how best
to describe what I had found in the yard. What I had smelled. I closed my eyes
for a moment, and I caught the whiff of the scent again, and my eyes snapped
open. Lifting my nose in the air, I tried to determine where that horrid smell
was coming from. It was then that I had my second surprise of the day. The
scent was coming from the boy playing on the floor with his sister. It was
coming from Canagan. My eyes narrowed slightly, the Coopers had Canagan when
they moved into this small house six years ago; he had been just an infant and
I had always assumed that he was theirs, but now I was not so certain.
“What
is the matter, Milord?” Mary asked as she handed me a tea cup. “You look as if
you smell something unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant
to me,” I told her softly, “Not for anyone else.” I then sipped the tea slowly,
trying to figure out how to break the news of my suspicions to the Coopers.
Finally,
I put my empty cup on the table and gestured to the door, “May I see you two
outside, please?” I asked with a sigh.
“Both
of us?” Mary asked with concern looking toward her stew.
“I
will watch it for you, Mama!” Canagan replied with a huge smile.
“All
right,” Mary replied with a sigh. “No tasting!” And both her and her husband
followed me out into the front yard.
I
took a deep breath and asked the question that nearly made me shudder, “Is Canagan
really your son?”
“What
kind of question is that?” Conan asked, anger lacing his voice. “Of course he
is our son. We love him dearly.”
“I
do not deny your love for the boy, or that you consider him to be your son, but
what I need to know is if it is your seed that sired him, your wife’s womb that
carried him. Believe me the answer may be the key to the whole mystery,” I said
with a sigh.
“I
do not see how,” Conan said glaring daggers at me, “Canagan has done nothing.”
“Not
consciously, no,” I told them with another sigh. “But I suspect the boy may be
a Wolf. He smells like one at least. I know he is approximately six years old,
and a pup will experience his first shift on the full moon after his sixth
birthday. The child will not remember the next morning what he has done.”
They
were both staring at me, but it was Mary that answered me, “No, we stumbled
across him in the woods behind our house when we first moved in. The poor baby
was all by himself and we felt sorry for him. We do love him as a son and never
let him know that he was not ours by birth. But if he really did kill the
chickens, what are we to do? Tomorrow it might be one of us.”
I
let out another sigh, dreading the words I was about to utter. I had no idea
how to raise a pup, but I felt at this point that I was the best teacher for
the child. “I take him with me,” I told them. “I will teach him to control his
shifts and stay in control when he does shift, but he will have to stay with
me. We have the least amount of control when the moon is full and even less
before we reach our ninth birthday.”
“I
do not believe our son is a Wolf,” Conan replied, crossing his arms defiantly
around his chest. “You are just saying that.”
“And
why in Fate’s name would I do that? I am a bachelor who lives alone unless you
count my servants and the occasional visit from my assorted family. I have
little knowledge on how to raise a pup. Trust me, I would not be offering if I
did not think the need was dire,” I said, my own anger rising. I had to take a
deep breath to keep from shifting again. I really did not wish to deal with
this during the full moon.
“I
will tell Canagan to get his things together,” Mary said softly, and reentered
the house. Conan and I followed her, but I could still feel Conan’s eyes boring
into my back.
Canagan
looked up from stirring the stew, and smiled at his mother. Unfortunately, he
saw the tears that were beginning to fall from his mother’s eyes, and he turned
to me in anger. “Did you make her cry?” he asked, already beginning to shift
before my eyes.
“A
word to the wise, Whelp,” I growled at him, “do not challenge a Wolf both older
and bigger than you are. You will only get yourself killed,” I then barred my
teeth and snapped at him.
The
boy stopped and dwindled back to what appeared to be only a small boy. “What
are you?” he asked, the smell of fear rippling off him in waves.
“I
am a Wolf,” I told him with a sigh, “and so are you.”
“What
are you talking about? I am no Wolf!” Canagan exclaimed in indignation.
“No?”
I asked him.
As
the boy stared into my eyes, I felt a strange feeling, as if my very thoughts
were being invaded. I saw once again everything that had occurred since I had
journeyed here this morning and all my own fears and anger. He then lowered his
head, and whispered as if to himself words that made my blood chill slightly. “To
the West, there is a great Alpha, the leader of a pack that spreads throughout
the entire Seelie Court.”
“What
are you talking about?” I asked him quietly.
“A
dream, Milord,” Canagan admitted softly.
“So
will you come with me?” I asked him, moving closer to him so that I could look
him in the face.
“Do
I have to?” Canagan wailed then, and my heart nearly broke with the boy’s
anguished cry.
“Yes,”
Mary said stooping in front of him, “you have to. You killed the chickens last
night, and his lordship can help you make sure that it never happens again.
That is why I was crying, love, I do not wish you to leave here, but his
lordship has told me that it is for the best.”
“I
did not mean to do it,” Canagan wailed, his own tears beginning to fall down
his face. “I did not mean to kill the chickens!”
“We
know, Lad,” his father said now, kneeling in front of him. “His lordship
explained all that. He explained that a young Wolf in the thralls of his first
shift does not know what he does when he is in his other form. But he also said
that he can help.”
“How?”
Canagan asked me, “how can you help
me?”
“Because
I know what you are going through,
having gone through it myself when I was your age,” I told him quietly. “I can
teach you how to stay in control during your shifts. You will not kill the
chickens again. All you need to do is trust me,” I continued as I held out my
hand to him, silently begging him to not make this any harder than it had to
be.
I
felt the “invading” feeling again, and then Canagan’s small hand was suddenly
in mine. “I do trust you, Milord,” he told me quietly.
“Well,
that is good then,” I muttered, not entirely sure where to go from there. Canagan
dropped my hand for a moment and then ran and hugged his mother and father and
laid a kiss on the top of his sister’s head. “I can come back for a visit, can
I not, Milord?” he said looking at me hopefully.
“Every
day,” I told him, “I promise.”
He smiled at me then and placed his
hand trustingly in mine, and we left his small cottage and started up the hill
to the Manor.
As
we neared the door, I heard Andarvi undo the locks to let us enter, but I could
tell that he had not expected the boy as suddenly as he saw him.
“Andarvi,”
I said with a slight smile, “this is Canagan Cooper. He will be staying with us
for a while. Please take him up to the nursery and then summon everyone to the
front parlor and I will explain what is going on.”
“Well,
welcome, Master Cooper. It is a pleasure to meet you,” Andarvi said bowing
deeply from his waist. “If you will come with me, I will show you the nursery.”
As
they walked away I could hear Canagan questioning Andarvi on the fact that he
was really no taller than he even though he was grown. I did not wait around to
hear the dwarf’s answer but managed to stumble into my study to write to my
friend, Tristan. I needed to tell someone about my insane morning and the crown
prince of Faerie had long been my confident.
After
I finished writing my letter, I walked slowly to the front parlor, and finding
my entire household assembled, I slowly explained my reasons for bringing the
pup into my home. It was Frea that spoke up first, “Oh, that poor child! He
must be scared to death! I will go fix him something special for his first day
among us. Perhaps you should go check on him, Master Duncan.”
Laughing
slightly, I shook my head as I walked slowly out of the room heading for the
nursery. My servants really were slightly insubordinate at times. But what
could I expect when those same servants had been in my grandparents' employ and
had known me as a small pup? The
stairs were especially painful for my bad leg, but I managed to drag myself up
there to the nursery room door. I found Canagan seated on the floor, the toy
soldiers that my father had carved for my brothers and me spread out before
him. There were the "Seelie" forces carved with intricate gold leaf
armor and bows and shiny little swords, and my father had even placed a few
wolves among them to represent our family. The opposing side was the
"Unseelie" fairies. These soldiers consisted of vampires, hags,
goblins, and anything really nasty that the legends had told us about. My
brothers and I, and occasionally Tristan too, had loved to play with those
little toy soldiers as children. That is before we saw real battles and
experienced what war really was. "So you found the old toy soldiers,
Lad," I said, leaning against the jam of the door.
"I
am sorry," Canagan replied quickly. "I will put them back."
"Do
not on my account," I told him with my faint smile. "They bring back
pleasant memories of my childhood."
The
boy hesitated a moment, biting down hard on his lip so that he drew blood.
"Will you play with me, Milord?" he finally asked.
Everything
in me was screaming at me that it was a bad idea. If I got down on that floor
there was no guarantee I would get up again. I would be exposing myself. My bad
leg was already paining me dreadfully.
But then I looked into those innocent, hopeful but scared eyes and knew that I
did not have a choice, not really. I had taken this boy from everything he had
ever known and told him that he was a creature many considered a monster. The
least I could do was play with the pup. "All right, Pup," I told him
quietly, "but I may need your help to get off the floor again."
The boy laughed, and I lowered
myself slowly to the floor to play a game that I had not played in ages. There
would be an amendment to my letter to Tristan that night.
