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Black Wolf

Chapter 11 – Return with a Vengeance

Throughout the long day Black stayed in the tunnel under the black trail. His only concession to comfort was to sit up against the side so only his butt and his parts were in the chilly water. Occasionally he squatted to relieve them but not for long. He was afraid some wolf would come back and look down the tunnel and wonder what was blocking the light from the other end.

He stayed well beyond the sunset, estimating that if the invaders had travelled at a lope along the creek that they would return this way until well after the full moon had risen. There was also the risk that they had left a sentry nearby to watch for him in case he doubled back. So he waited, counting his slow steady breaths after the sun set until he reached ten hundreds and then he started again.

About halfway through the second time he heard a noise on the God’s side of the trail. The hunting party had returned. He heard them scramble across the trail, heard them cry and curse when a beast almost got them. Once on the other side one of them whistled and the call was returned by another wolf somewhere to the north. So, they had left a watch on the creek.

Black crawled close to the grill on the Druid side and heard the wolves talking on the other side of the bushes.

“How did it go in the den”. The now familiar voice of one of the leaders asked.

“We got most of them without any casualties, Lightning. A couple of the females and some cubs are missing as well as the black one and the other male, the one Thrasher doesn’t know. Looks like they have all run off.”

“No matter. We have their hunting grounds now and their females.”

“Some of those females don’t look to be very cooperative, despite losing their Alpha, whichever one it was.”

They were moving away and it was getting harder to hear them, but he caught the leader’s response. “They will submit if they want their cubs to live.”

“All of the cubs?”

Black couldn’t make out the answer. He fought the urge to go after them right then and there. In the quiet night the sound of him moving the grill aside would carry for a lope or more. He counted another two hundreds of breaths before leaving the tunnel.

He took a moment to retrieve his loincloth and the cord from the other end. He was on his own again, perhaps for a long time, and needed everything he get his hands on. At the monument that consisted of a cord, a loincloth, his ax-club and his spear. His stomach rumbled to remind him that he had not eaten since sundown the night before.

Black knew his way across this part of the Druid territory in the dark very well. He could have headed straight for the old den, where he used to meet with the sisters before he was accepted by Menace, but he opted to follow the intruders to the den to see what the fate of his family was.

There were several hills that overlooked the home of the Druid pack. Normally Moon Gazer would be on one of them, but tonight they were empty. The invaders had not even bothered to post a watch. They had also built a large fire, large enough to illuminate the entire open space between the den entrances. Black dropped to his belly and shimmied forward so as not to be caught in its light until he was far enough to peek through the dry grass onto the scene below.

He saw that the intruders had separated the Druid wolves into three groups. One group held the females that they had captured. A quick count revealed that two were missing - Frost and Daisy. The next group held the younger cubs, those who were not big enough to hunt or even train seriously for it. It was hard to count them as they clung to one another, but it appeared that several were missing. The third group consisted of the cubs of his first year of mating, and some of the second and third. These were the cubs that would come into full adulthood in the next year or two. It too looked to be short a few cubs.

Black raised himself up on his elbows to see better. The two leaders, the ones with God Collars, were talking to Thrasher and a large female. Arms waved and lips curled in an animated discussion that Black guessed concerned the fate of the various groups. In the end the one that appeared to be the Alpha waved the rest to silence and then directed the wolves guarding the groups.

They took the two old aunts from the group of females and put them with the older cubs. Then they took the females from that group and put them with the younger cubs. Finally they sent the cubs to join their mothers. They poked and prodded that group toward the dens, but Trapper, seeing her two sons still being held by the fire broke through and ran to them. The Alpha gestured that she should be left alone, and the rest of the Druids were escorted into the dens, out of sight of the whatever was about to transpire by the fire.

There were ten older male cubs, the two aunts that were beyond breeding age and Trapper left outside. The Alpha had his wolves move them all into a line facing the fire. It was easy because they outnumbered them three to one. Trapper stood with a son on each side of her, clasping their hands tightly as she stared into the flames.

Black knew what was coming next. When a wolf pack took over another’s territory and assimilated the survivors the first thing they had to do was to eliminate any threat from within. That meant killing the former leaders, their older male offspring and any others that looked like they would cause trouble.

The worst part was that Black could do nothing to interfere. The brand of coward that the new Alpha had placed on him still burned, but to attack would be foolhardy. He was vastly outnumbered and if he made his presence known they would kill him in an instant.

He would have preferred to go down fighting, but he had to stay alive and find the missing members of the pack, if they still lived. If he found them he would take them somewhere where they could rest and recover. If it turned out that they had died during the attack then he would be back, sooner rather than later.

Black knew that he should leave now, before they began, but he could not tear his eyes away.

The other wolf wearing a god collar moved behind the first in line, one of the aunts, and raised the big club Black had seen them use on his grandmother Snow years ago. He brought it down hard and the cub beside her whined when the blood and gore splashed him.

One by one he stood behind Black’s oldest sons and brought the club down on their heads. The only variance in the routine was when only Trapper and her sons remained. The Alpha barked out an order and his companion stopped. Then the Alpha called Thrasher forward. He made the other pass the club to Thrasher and pointed at the back of Trapper’s head. Thrasher hesitated. Trapper said something that Black could not hear, something meant for her brother only, he thought. Whatever it was angered Thrasher so much he cried out as he swung the club over his head and brought it down as hard as he could. It was a wild swing and he almost missed her but the club caught her at the base of the neck and she went down like a deer with a spear in its spine.

Thrasher hammered at the body of his sister while her sons cowered beside it. Eventually the Alpha grabbed the haft of the club and sent him to the other side of the fire with a look of disgust. The Alpha dispatched Trapper’s cubs with a single blow each, and that was the last of the killing for the night.

Up on the hill Black suddenly realized that he had stopped breathing some time ago. He drew in a long shuttering breath and would have howled in sadness and anger if he could have caught enough air to do so. It was fortunate that he could not, as the den had gone quiet and they would have heard the slightest cry. Biting his lip and wiping the moisture from his eyes Black slipped back down the far side of the hill and into the night.

He made his way south until he was almost at the black trail before turning east towards the old den. According to Flame it had been used by the Druids in her great-grandmother’s time. It was snug and defensible, but the pack had outgrown it in the time of Menace’s father. The males in her family had not known about it, but her grandmother had shown her where it was and told her to run there and bring her younger sisters if the main den was every attacked. When she had grown old enough to join the hunt she had show her sisters where it was. Since then most had visited Black there during his time as a fugitive and they could all find it in the dark, as could Black.

When he arrived he was disturbed by the silence but a quick check of the perimeter revealed the scent of fresh urine. The urine was from several wolves, females and cubs among them, and it had the scent of fear in it. He was not surprised, he had been afraid too and could only imagine what the young ones must have felt when the invaders appeared.

“Frost, Daisy!” Black called in a low voice from outside the den. “It’s me, the black wolf.” For some reason he suddenly felt bad for never having taken a proper name, but there were more important things to worry about at the moment. “Daisy, Frost, are you there?”

Daisy’s voice came from the entrance to the den. “We’re here, but where are you? I can’t see you.”

Black stood up and came forward. He had been sticking to the shadows where his black coat would blend in and to avoid being silhouetted by the moon when it broke through the clouds. It did so now, and it made his eyes shine yellow in the darkness.

“Black wolf, you’re alive! Quick, come inside.”

The inside of the den was cold and dark. There was no fire because there had been no time to bring some when they fled the main den. Black let his eyes adjust for twenty breaths and once his night vision was fully restored he could make out two larger form and six smaller ones huddled in the main chamber.

“Who is here?’ He asked. Daisy answered. Three of the cubs were from the first litters, two males and a female. The other three were younger, but big enough to take care of themselves should all the adults be needed for hunting. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. He asked if they had seen Bruiser. They had not.

Frost’s trembling voice came from one of the large shadows. “Do you know if any of the others got away?”

“No others as far as I can tell.”

“Do you know how the rest are? Were there any ... any casualties?”

“Trapper and her sons are dead, as well as the first and second born males.” Black did not describe how they had died, he just listed the names of those he had seen executed.

The news brought sniffling and a few low whines. Black did not silence them. He had had his chance to cry on the journey here, now it was their turn, and besides, he knew that the invaders were not hunting them. They were safe for now, but he would have to move them tomorrow night, before the invaders could start exploring their new territory.

He gathered the survivors around him in a heap and together they fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * * * * *

“Oh, my Gods.” Meili said under her breath after reviewing the video of the attack and its aftermath. She had known that the pack from the northern edge of the plain was on the move again but she had not expected them to go straight for the Druid’s territory. She had anticipated that they would expand slowly and eventually threaten the black wolf’s pack, but not so soon.

She referred to the ever-expanding pack as the Mongols in her reports due to their habit of invading neighbouring territories whenever they outgrew they current territory. Like them and their allies, the ancient Tartars, they did not try to rule everything from a central den but distributed their authority by creating satellite packs using the females and the youngsters they had captured as the core. They provided the males, one of which was made the local Alpha. The satellite packs owed allegiance to the super-Alpha in the central pack and had to provide wolves as required to form attack parties when it was time to expand again.

This latest campaign was different though. In order to get at the Druids they had to cross through the territory of two other packs, an unusual move. Not that they had any difficulty doing so, no one wanted to take on forty armed adult wolves in one group. The packs they passed through just sighed in relief when they realized that they were not the target ... this time … and pitied the pack that was.

A review of the files from the Mongol pack leaders’ collars showed that the choice of target was no coincidence. They had held several audiences with Thrasher over the last couple of years and had sent out spies to confirm his story of a pack with only one male. Even when those spies returned with news that there were two big males there, they were not put off. They thought that a wanderer from a nearby pack must have also heard about the lack of males and challenged the black wolf Thrasher had described as a sneak and a coward.

The execution of the cubs and the three females had been brutal, but not unexpected. It was hard to watch though, and she had three angles to view it from, those of the two Mongol with collars and that of wolf 302, who had witnessed the whole thing. Meili did not want to watch it again, but it was her job to assemble the footage and upload it to the Science Council database so that graduate students and other researchers could analyze it for clues as to the wolves’ development ... or lack of it in some cases.

Sometimes she thought that the wolves were becoming too human in the way they dealt with their enemies.

In the days that followed she recorded the reunion of Bruiser with his brother. The former had gotten lost searching for the old den and only stumbled upon it by accident. He covered up well though, and for once deferred to his brother when the black wolf suggested that they had to move farther east and south, around the bottom of Lake Yellowstone and into the foothills where there were no other wolf packs, just coyotes and the occasional bear.

Back in the Druid den she was surprised to find that the Mongols had not left one of their own males in chage, but instead had installed Thrasher as the local Alpha, in name anyway. Before returning to his home den the super-Alpha explained in great detail that the female staying as Thrasher’s mate, one of the Mongol leader’s daughters, would slit his throat and stuff his parts in the hole if she even suspected that Thrasher was being disloyal to him. He also left several younger males to mate with the remaining Druid females to grow the pack for when they needed more wolves.

“Raise the young ones to be loyal to you, and to me.” He warned as he took his leave. “And if you cannot I will send someone who can.”

The material had been up in the database for several weeks when Meili received a personal call. Thinking it was Robert calling to check in on her she made the connection without verifying the caller first. She was a little surprised when instead of Robert’s kindly old Caribbean visage she saw an attractive young black woman.

“Rhiannon? Is that you dear?”

“Yes, Doctor Cheng, it’s me.”

“Oh, please call me Mary.”

“I’ve always wanted to ask, why not Meili?”

“Well, Mary is almost the same, and its easier for English speakers like you.”

The young black woman’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is that the only reason?”

“Truth be told, none of you can pronounce my real name properly so rather than listen to you slaughter it constantly I prefer to use a western name.”

Rhiannon laughed out loud at the confession. “I knew it! From that first day when Doctor Dupuis introduced you to our class and you winced when he tried to say it with his Haitian accent.”

“Ten thousand years on the Canadian planet and his people still have an island accent, imagine.”

“New Toronto isn’t the melting pot that the rest of the United American Colonies are.” The young woman’s smile faded then. “I had to call you after I saw the video of the Druid takeover. I ... I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“I thought you were studying politics or economics, Rhiannon. How did you come to see it?”

Rhiannon’s dark face went slightly darker as she blushed in embarrassment. “I have a boyfriend who’s a grad student in Antho-lupine studies. I’ve been studying the political-social interactions of your wolves as a means to understand the politics of stone-age man.”

“Why, I think that’s wonderful! I’ve always said that we can learn a lot about our ancestors by studying the development of the wolves. They are essentially going through the early stages of human development at an accelerated pace.”

“The C-F would beg to differ.”

“Some people, like some wolves, can’t get over their belief in their own superiority, no matter how many times they are proved wrong.”

They chatted for a while about Rhiannon’s studies and the Wolf project in general.

“I have to sign off now, dear, but I’ll arrange for you to have direct access to the project material.”

“Thank you, Mary. Tell me, what do you think is store for the black wolf and his small pack?”

“I don’t know, dear. 302 isn’t as talkative since the attack. I’m actually a bit worried about him; he spends so much time brooding these days.”

* * * * * *

Black did spend a lot of his time brooding as winter closed its icy grip on the plains and foothills. He sat up in the night, sleepless, watching the moon and wondering if he had made a mistake brining the others here. He worried about the health of his small pack in an area that proved to have no wolves simply because there was no food to hunt there; just coyotes that harried them day and night and bears that were fat but surly passing through on their way to the upper slopes where they slept through the worst of the winter. Most of all he brooded about the wolves that had taken most of his family from him a second time, and the son of Menace that had aided them.

They needed to move father north, he knew that now, but it was too late now. The winter had come on unusually harsh and cold with plenty of snow and they could not move far. All the snow feet were left behind in the Druid den, as well as all the tools and most of the weapons. Daisy and Frost had brought nothing but the cubs and Bruiser had brought nothing at all. That left them with black’s ax-club and spear, and they were needed for hunting, or would be if there were any game to hunt. Meanwhile they roamed the area around the southern foothills in search of small game and carrion.

It was not all bad, however. They had found a small cave that coyotes had abandoned some time in the past and Black had made a risky journey back to the place of the gods and brought back fire from the lightning web. A hot spring a lope away provided water, but they had to visit it as a group least the coyotes living nearby attack a lone wolf or steal a cub away from the den.

With the lack of game and having no provisions they all lost weight and muscle. Black alone amongst them had survived lean times and he did not suffer as much, but the others weakened steadily; Bruiser with an abundant layer of fat built up over the easy years less so than the others. By mid winter they were reduced to gnawing sticks for the soft pulp under the bark.

One day during the morning visit to the water hole they discovered the body of a coyote. It was thin and its fur was ragged and bare in patches, but it did not look like it had died of old age. It still had all of its teeth for one thing. Normally the wolves did not eat other wolves or even coyotes, believing that there was some sort of kinship between them, but circumstances left them no choice. They were starving and to ignore even the little meat left on the emaciated coyote could mean starvation.

It proved to be a mistake. Whatever the coyote had died of it was spread through its meat. All the wolves became horribly ill, vomiting, squirting liquid through their tail holes and thrashing about in a fever. Only Black was tough enough to get up and go to the water hole every day. He used his loin cloth, after rinsing the liquid scat off as we’ll as he could, as a container to carry water back for the others. When he went he barricaded the den and carried his spear because the coyotes were getting bolder, perhaps because they could smell the scent of impending death.

The three youngest cubs passed during the cold clear days in the period after the day and the night were equal. The female from his first born followed soon after. Black, exhausted from being the lone provider spent even more time sitting in the entrance to the den with his teeth and fists clenched, plotting his revenge.

His two remaining sons, who had become adults during the winter, survived, barely. Daisy and Frost did as well. Bruiser emerged from a stupor that had lasted more than a cycle much reduced in weight, but not in ego. He took his return to the life as a sign that he was destined to lead the Druid pack again. Black did not argue, as long as his brother followed his ‘advice’ and kept from ambushing him with wrestling moves when his back was turned.

When the weather warmed they moved north.

Black led them, though Bruiser still claimed the title of Alpha. Serious and stoic, Black used everything he had learned during his life to direct the others in the hunt. His time as a wanderer had made him a master of tracking and capturing small game, while their hunts on the plains had honed his skills against the larger prey, thus hardly anything that crossed their path as they moved through the foot hills escaped them.

When the last of the snows melted they found themselves in a small saddle valley that, by the signs, was on the route the elk used to move up and down the slopes in the spring and fall. Deer and other migrating species came that way too at various times. There was water, and shelter, and most importantly of all, no other wolves.

It was a small territory but it proved to be a fruitful one. Other than the constant migration of sort of prey or another there were berries and grains that could be collected to make the meat paste the Druid females specialized in. There was also suitable rock for making tools and weapons and wood for spear shafts, hafts and snow feet. Their tensions eased, they gained weight, and both Daisy and Frost were pregnant before the leaves fell again.

It was an almost idyllic existence, but Black continue to brood. The similarities of this place to Mist Valley and Sunrise Plateau were too much for him to bear. Twice he had though himself safe and twice he had his family torn apart. If the Invaders could take the Druid territory away from them then what was to stop them taking this valley too? Waiting, he concluded, served no purpose. One must be constantly on the move to ensure survival. But before that, he vowed to deal with Thrasher and his invader allies.

He spoke of this to no one. He mated with Daisy and Frost with a desperation that he had never felt before and stayed silent when they asked if he was all right. He trained his oldest sons mercilessly, driving them as Menace had driven his offspring.

“There is only death for the weak.” He told them. “And the stupid.” He added as Bruiser caught his eye.

They remained in the small valley for seven years. The abundant game and constant drilling made Black, Bruiser and his eldest sons a most formidable small group of wolves. But he also trained the next generation, those born of Daisy and Frost after their escape, relentlessly. At six and seven the cubs were far larger and more capable than he had been at that age. They had the strength of survivors, and a faith in their demanding father that rivaled that of the followers of the most powerful Alphas.

Black had been doing more than brooding as he sat up and watched the moon and stars go by. Back in the Druid den, after Moon Gazer had warmed up to him slightly, she had explained what she had learned watching them every night for fifteen years.

“After the night with no moon it reappears again at sunset on the western horizon as a sliver open to the east.” She showed this by holding her right hand up in front of them with the fingers and thumb curled.

“It sets within three hundreds of breaths, but the next night it is twice as thick, and another span higher in the sky. It is six hundreds of breaths before it sets again.”

She continued to describe how the moon got fuller for ten and four nights until it was full, which she showed by adding her left hand to the right.

“Then it starts to disappear, growing thinner from the right, and staying higher in the sky each dawn until the night where there is no moon again, a full cycle.”

All wolves knew the cycle, of course, but not in such detail as Moon Gazer. They knew that they could hunt by the full moon on a clear night, but Moon Gazer knew which creatures would be about then. She had even made marks on the rocks near the den that tracked the shadows of the sun rise and sun sets and claimed that given a method of recording enough passages of the two heavenly orbs she could predict those rare occasions when one blocked the other.

But Black was more concerned with the nights when there was no moon, the nights where a small pack of wolves could move across the plain without being seen.

When one such night was due Black told the others that he would be gone for a few days. His taciturn expression prevented any question as to why or where he was going. He took two days to travel back to Druid territory, entering it from the south where the hunting was bad and the invaders unlikely to be about. He checked the old den – it appeared not to have been visited for a few years. He risked staying there that night and the next, the night of no moon, he made his way to the main den.

Crawling up one of the hills as quietly as he could, using hunting skills honed razor sharp by years of hard living, Black was sure that even a sentry would not hear or see him in the dark. When he neared the top he was not surprised to see the dim silhouette of a seated wolf lit by the glow of the fire below. He pulled a knife made of black glass that Daisy had made recently. It was crude but the edge was sharp. He longed to kill the sentry outright but that would alert the rest to the fact that someone had been spying on them, so he controlled his urge for revenge and started to back down the hill; he would find another to spy on the den from.

Before he could move though a soft voice came from the silhouette. “Where are you going, black wolf? Do you dislike me so much as to leave without a greeting?”

Black recognized the voice of Moon Gazer. Damn, but she must be able to spot the mice under snow as high as a wolf in winter, he thought as he sheathed his knife and crawled forward. He did not get up when he reached her side, however, preferring to stay low and watch from there least someone glance up and see the firelight reflected in his eyes.

“I’ve been expecting you to come back to get your revenge, black wolf. What took you so long?”

“I needed more wolves.”

“Are all the ones who escaped with you?”

So, he thought, she didn’t know everything after all. “Daisy, Frost and Bruiser are with me, as are two of my oldest sons. The other four perished of illness the first winter.”

“Yes, that was a hard one.”

She fell silent while Black studied the open area in the middle of the den. On one side of the fire sat Thrasher and his mate, one of the invaders. Four males that Black had seen taking part in the attack sat with them. On the other side the remaining females of the Druid pack sat with their cubs, although some were young adults now. Black noticed that only Thrasher and the invaders were armed.

“They keep all the weapons with them and only use my sisters, nephews and nieces as chasers and trappers.” Moon Gazer said, reading his mind. “It is very dangerous without spears to turn the herd and there are often injuries for me to treat, not always successfully. Once the hunt is over the invaders butcher the prey and make the others carry the meat back for preservation. The stores are guarded and portioned out at group meals wile this one. Thrasher and the invaders get the largest portions. My family gets barely enough to keep them healthy.”

“Those cubs can’t be all mine, some are too young.”

“Thrasher mates with the real Alpha of the pack, Howler, daughter of the super-Alpha. They have yet to produce any offspring and each blames the other. The four males they left behind mate with my remaining sisters. They participate reluctantly and use all the tricks they learned while you were here to keep from becoming pregnant. It doesn’t always work though. Sometimes the intruders confine one in a small chamber and take turns holding her down while the others go at her. That will last for a cycle or two until they are sure that she is pregnant. There have been eight cubs born of them so far, but we have no idea which is the father of any of them because they all look alike.”

“Do they treat their cubs any better than mine?”

“No. Their home pack believes in ruling by fear and intimidation. Only those that profess their loyalty to the greater pack and the super-Alpha and prove their loyalty by oppressing the others get to move to the other side of the fire. They will never trust my sisters or the offspring they had by you, but they believe them cowed enough to control. Their own cubs are to young to be tested yet, but they are more loyal to their mothers and aunts than to the cruel ones that deny them a father’s love and guidance.”

As she finished speaking she put a hand on Black’s head, conveying her respect for the kind of father he had been.

“What about you, Moon Gazer? Have they forced themselves on you?”

“Oh no. I told Thrasher that the gods demanded that I remain untouched so they could channel their wisdom through me. He has always been a bit in awe of the things I know, even though I get this knowledge from simple observation, and he still fears the faceless gods from across the black trail. He forbade the others to touch me and when I see one giving me that look that means they are about to break their vow I disappear until their urge goes away.”

“You mean until they sate it on one of your sisters.”

“Yes.” She sighed, the blunt truth hurting her more than she thought it would. “You’ve grown cruel, black wolf. Seven winters ago you would not have said such a thing, true or not.”

“Hard times call for hard measures.”

“Now you sound like the invaders.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been consumed by the thought of revenge since the day they came.” He described what he had seen that first night.

“I saw you watching, up on the hill. That is why I knew that you would be back. I counselled my sisters to resist being absorbed by the new pack and to keep their cubs from believing that this is the way things must be because I told them you would be back one day. As thin and weak as they are, they will stand with you when you return.”

“That is good. Any suggestions? Are there times when they are separated, when we could take them on individually?”

“No, they never go about alone for fear of being attacked by the ones they oppress. When they are on the hunt they keep a watchful eye in case the others try to improvise weapons of their own. One can’t even pick up a rock without being punished with a beating and half rations. No, the only time that they are relaxed and feel safe is during the evening meal, when they are full of food and know that all the weapons are secured in the den behind them.”

Black noted the positions they sat in and Moon Gazer confirmed that they always sat in the same place. “Because the winds always come from behind them and the smoke never gets in their eyes.”

“In that case I think I know how we can take them, even though we barely outnumber them. I’ll be back in one cycle, on the night with no moon. Can you trust the others to keep it secret?”

“Most of them, yes, but they might be overheard whispering or seem suspicious in some other manner. Best that the attack come as a surprise to everyone. I will eat with the pack that night and make sure none get in your way.”

“Alright then. Well met, Moon Gazer. I’ll see you in a cycle.”

* * * * * *

Thank the gods for night vision cameras, Meili thought as she watched the video of wolf 302 and the one called Moon Gazer. With no moon and a few clouds blocking the starlight a conventional camera would not have caught the subtle motions that made up a good part of the wolf language. As it was she was still having a difficult time interpreting their conversation, but she got the gist of it. 302 would return in a month to take back the Druid den. That was something she could not miss.

She checked how many credits remained the project still had for the year against the use of the company drones. Fortunately, she had not been using them as much lately and she should be able to have three of them on station when the attack went down. She began to enter the request in the system. She wanted to reserve them early in case they were already assigned when the day came.

She wondered if 302 had a plan, and whether it would work. One way or the other, a number of wolves were going to die, and that would not go down well with the folk who wanted the semi-human species wiped out.

“They are too brutal” the C-F followers claimed. “If they treat each other like this what can we expect them to do to us?”

Advocates for the wolves, particularly a youth group formed by Rhiannon and others who had studied under Doctors Dupuis and Cheng, pointed out besides having no advanced weapons or a way off the planet, that humans had treated each other no better right up to the time of the Great Exodus, and beyond if you counted the fate of those left behind. The C-F propaganda machine just turned it back at them though, claiming that the wolves had evidently inherited the worst traits of both species, traits selected out of the human genome by taking only the best during the exodus. Allowing them to live, even to be studied, would bring those traits back.

Meili would have liked to collar a few of the C-F, but it was her duty to be impartial and maintain the scientific integrity of the project. That meant no matter how the attack went down she would upload the recordings for everyone in the scientific community to see. Unfortunately, that included Roscoe Binks, who had managed to hold onto his position as the Co-Chair of the Science Council.

Meili sighed. Let’s just hope it isn’t too brutal, she thought wishfully.

* * * * * *

Black had little trouble convincing his small pack to join him in attacking the invaders in the Druid den. His sons and daughters would do anything he asked, and Bruiser was ready for a good fight.

“You realize that we may lose and be killed?” Black reminded him.

“With you by my side, brother, I can’t fail.”

Black chose to ignore the fact that Bruiser seemed to think that the whole thing was his idea. With only untested young adults and a couple of non-dominant females he needed his brother to make this work. He would need him after the attack also, at least until the weaker adults put on some muscle and learned to hunt properly. Then, who knew? He would think about it when the time came to decide. Right now he had more important things to do.

He set those who had any skill at all in knapping to making more weapons. He wanted another heavy club for Bruiser and knives for the rest. It was going to be a face-to-face fight and spears would only get in the way. While they toiled he made a scale copy of the Druid den from mud and sand. When it was ready he showed them how he intended to conduct the attack and they rehearsed their rolls with sticks representing the three groups involved. When they knew the timing and the signals he had them run through it live around a low hill similar in size and shape to the one on the west side of the den.

They left their small valley two days before the night of no moon. The entire pack came, even those too young to participate in the attack. They travelled in the dark to avoid curious eyes. They stayed in the abandoned den and ate the last of their provisions there. If they were successful, they would find more than enough meat in the Druid den. If they failed, they would never eat again. If no one came back the cubs were to head north and surrender to the first pack they came across – in this area where exclusive mating rights were the rule rather than the exception most packs would take in young cubs that would diversify the pack without threatening the leader.

As soon as it was fully dark on the night of no moon the attack party moved out. They circled around to the south of the Druid den to come in the same way Black had the cycle before. A run’s distance away from the den they split up into three groups. Black and Bruiser each led two of Black’s offspring, the four biggest, around the sides of the low hill that housed the weapons and preserved meat stores. The third group, consisting of Daisy and Frost and the remaining youngsters crawled up the hill.

One of Black’s daughters had learned to imitate the sound of several species of bird. After reaching the top of the hill it was her job to confirm that the invaders and Thrasher were in their usual places, with their backs to the hill they had surrounded. If it was so she would give the hunting cry of the night hawk, a shrill shriek designed to confuse and deafen their prey. If anything was not as it should be, if any of the enemy were absent, for example, she would give the soft call of the plains owl, and they would withdraw to confer out of earshot of the den.

Black stopped when he could see the glow from the fire on the grass ahead of him. Any farther and he would be visible to the Druid females and a reaction from one could give them away. He hoped that Bruiser remembered to do the same.

Tension was building up inside Black but he refused to show it. Sounds of laughter and the smacking of lips eating sloppily came around the hill to him, and only that. There were no yells of surprise or challenge so Bruiser must have stopped in the right place, thank the gods. Black dried his hands on his loin cloth and gripped the haft of his ax-club tight. In a few more breaths the third group should be in position.

When the shriek of the night hawk came Black fairly leapt into a dead run that carried him around the hill and into the den. As the seated group of invaders came into view he cried out as loud as he could. Six heads snapped around and they began to scramble to their feet but just them another cry came from behind them. It was Bruiser and the other two wolves. Instinctively the three invaders on that side turned to face the new threat. In the short space of time it took to close on them Black could see the confident looks on their faces. They were armed and healthy and it was six against six, or so they thought.

Black swung the ax head of his club around in what might have looked like an ill-timed blow but as it came around and up again it caught one of the enemies in the groin. He had to duck to avoid the short club it had raised and in doing so used the body of the wounded wolf as shield against the two that followed. Across the den he could see that Bruiser and Thrasher had traded blows and were now grappling hand-to-hand. Thrasher’s mate and one of Black’s sons were circling each other, knives held low, waiting for an opportunity while the third invader and another of his sons were trading blows with their clubs.

On this side they were also engaged in battles that could go either way. Black was trapped under a wolf who was taking too long to die and his offspring could not get in to engage the invaders that were trying to get at him. They would get him eventually, but they were cautious, throwing glances at the group of emaciated wolves on the far side of the fire, obviously worried that they may try to overwhelm them despite being weak and unarmed.

They needn’t have worried. Moon Gazer was doing her job, keeping them back and out of the way. Besides, Black thought with a smile as he kicked another attacker away, the threat was coming from an entirely different angle.

As they had rehearsed, the group on top of the hill came down fast and silently with knives drawn. They split into two when they got to where the invaders had been seated and came up behind the enemies that were focused on the first two groups. Their instructions were to go for the kill on one wolf and then engage the next, and the next if necessary, but always strike to kill. There was no time for mercy, and prolonging the fight would only increase the casualties on their side.

For this role he had picked those of his offspring that showed the least qualms with killing and slaughtering their prey, big or small. Daisy and Frost, having a particular peeve against their brother, went after him first.

It was over quickly, but it was bloody, and not without friendly casualties. Black suffered some cuts on his lower legs, one of his sons had a gash on his side and another had a broken arm, but both would heal well, he thought. A daughter on the other side did not fare so well, her leg tendons were severed in a last effort by one of the males and she would never hunt again, but at least she was alive.

Thrasher’s mate was also alive, battered, bruised and cut but alive. She was holding three wolves at bay as she stood there bleeding. Black could almost admire her tenacity.

Moon Gazer was still keeping the rest on the other side of the fire, although Daisy and Frost had gone to join their sisters. Black could feel Moon Gazer’s eyes on him as he approached the last enemy alive.

Someone called for a spear to be brought. Black, glancing back at Moon Gazer and remembered what she had said about him being changed, being meaner.

“Leave the spear.” He ordered. “And stand back from her.”

“What do you intend to do with her?”

Black’s head whipped around. When had Moon Gazer moved up beside him? Better yet, how had she done it without him noticing?

He shook his head as if to clear it and answered her. He spoke loud enough for everyone, especially the wounded female, to hear. “If she will surrender I intend to treat her wounds. Once she is healed she has a choice, stay here and mate with one of my sons or seek a new pack.” He saw her frown at the suggestion of staying in a submissive role, and guessed what she was thinking. “Either way, she does not leave here until after all the Druid wolves are fit and healthy again, at which time I intend to lead them to her home pack and make her father pay for what he has done to my family time and time again.”

The heat of anger was rising in him again, just as it had during the long wait for his revenge on Thrasher. It was so bad he almost lashed out at Moon Gazer when she put a hand on his arm.

“That won’t be necessary, black wolf. One of her brothers came with news just after you left last cycle. He father was killed on a raid. His brother, the other one with a collar, was challenged and killed by a wanderer they had taken in to bolster their might. That led to a rebellion within the pack and with the packs they once controlled. Their pack is in chaos and the ones they once ruled have overthrown their masters and declared their own Alphas. Thrasher refused to take him in and the others did not want to share what they had with another male either so he left to become a wanderer. So, you see, there is no one left to take your revenge on,” she paused and nodded toward the big female. “except her.”

Black studied the daughter of his enemy. Bleeding and broken, she was still defiant. A look he had seen on his mother when she had to raise four cubs alone. A look he had seen reflected in the still waters over the last seven years. This female was no more responsible for the death and misery her father had brought than his sons and daughters were for the killing done today. It’s fathers that demand respect and obedience, he thought, and they got it, whether they deserved it or not.

He looked around at the respectful, almost worshipful, looks that his offspring, the females who he had fathered them with, and even the cubs whose fathers he had just killed were giving him. They would all gladly kill the foreign female if he as much as nodded his head, because they were loyal to him, and a little in awe.

Whether I deserve it or not, he thought.

“I stand by what I said. If she is willing to submit to the rule of the Druid pack she can stay and be a mate to one of my sons. If not, she can go where she pleases, never to return on pain of death.”

There was some mumbling but in general they agreed with him. Several of the sisters led her off to be cleaned and stitched up. Moon Gazer would prepare poultices for her wounds and those of the others later. She had a good chance of surviving, Black thought, especially if her hate drove her like his had for the last seven years.

“Keep her away from the weapons.” He advised Daisy, who would be taking over in the den until her older sisters were fit enough. Then he turned to face Moon Gazer.

“Are you happy now?”

“Happy? I am neither happy nor unhappy. I merely observe your movements, as I do those of the moon, and try to learn from them.”

With that she turned and headed for her chamber to prepare the medicines for the wounded, leaving Black more perplexed than ever.

Based on The rise of Black Wolf

Produced by National Geographic Television, © 2010 NGHT LLC