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Chapter 7

The clatter-clop of horse hooves on a bad road tickled through her dreams and a subtle shifting of Garth's weight aroused her to discover they were real. He shimmied down from his top-dog perch and easily slipped out from her, his knot-lock long gone.

"Shush," he softly whispered. "I hear breakfast coming. Follow my lead, and don't attack unless I do."

Their first banditry attempt was easier and harder than they had anticipated it to be. Easier because their target arrived before first light and made no attempt to fight or run, harder because--

"Stand where you are, human!" commanded Garth from the road in front while Molly quietly positioned herself behind him to prevent retreat. The roadbed here was perfect for an ambush--carved out narrowly from the wall of a river gorge with cliff-like crumbling slopes above and below. A human or wolf might climb sideways from there but no sane horse would dare to follow.

"Eh?" The man was skinny and white-haired, his sumpter mare heavy-laden with firewood but healthy and well kept, and distinctly delicious-smelling. He raised a lantern high and peered out fearfully into the pre-dawn darkness, but made no move to flee.

Garth stalked forward from the lantern shadows--a pale shadow himself but for red eyes blazing bright--stalked closer until the mare reared up and near tore free from her master's grip. Silently he edged closer still, hoping to spook the creature into panicked flight but the driver-man's grip grew stronger and he whispered comfort-words in his mare's ear, calming her, promising he would keep her safe. No horse should have obeyed in such a pass but this one did, holding herself tremble-sweating-still while Garth stepped right up and stretched his neck high to briefly touch her nose to nose. "This is a fine horse you have here," he growled. "If you value your life you'll give her to us now."

The human shook his head no. "She's not my mare," he replied. "She belongs to my Baron William Wolf-Fang, Beloved-Protector-of-Heightshame-Long-Valley-and-the-Southern-Roads."

"All the better, man!" Garth laughed, "You'll not be feeling the loss of what you never owned."

The driver shook his head again and sighed, then looked Garth straight in the eyes and told him "No. If I lose this animal I'll be hanged, and my family destroyed. Kill me instead."

"I'll kill you both!" Garth snarled and the man replied "Yes, that would serve too, I suppose. My blood on the road will prove adequate testament... though I'd be grateful if you could find it in your heart to leave behind a well-gnawed bone or two as well. To dispel any lingering doubts about my fate, that is. My baron's men are not a trusting lot, you see, and might otherwise believe I feigned my death and ran off." His pack-mare had relaxed a bit and he drew her head gently downwards, then sideways across his chest so her jugular was clearly exposed. "There you go, sir Wolf," he murmured, "nicely turned for a quick sharp bite. You'll be taking her first, I'll warrant, and 'tis better that way. She's a trusting lass and I'd hate to see that spoiled in her last sweet moments of life. Her name is Hope's Miracle, by the way, or mostly just Hope. Just so's you know. With my own hands I eased her from her mother's aching womb, poor breach-born thing, and nursed her through the strangles five bitter long nights nigh the end o' her first winter."

Such a man! He stank of fear and his voice rasped tight with it but still to put up such a brave banter... Molly yip-yelped for attention and they turned to face her, all three of them. She knew her wolf was going to let them go--how could he not?--and it was time to end the pretense. "Garth..." she coaxed and he replied "Arrrgh! This is not working at all. Run along, man, and take your darling delicious Miracle-horse with you. We'll find our breakfast somewhere else."

The driver's jaw dropped in astonishment and he squeaked "Now? You're just going to let us go? Why that's--"

Garth glared and rumble-growled and the driver clucked his mare into motion and hurried past him, not saying another word until "Mister... ah... Mister Wolf?" he called back when he was many yards away.

"My name is Garth."

"Mister Garth... folk call me Thomas. Thomas Atkins, or Tom, or many times Tommy of the Crooked Dell. You're an enemy to my baron, yes?"

"Yes."

"I guessed as much. By your words, and by the way you resemble those... who took from him his hand. Perhaps some day we can talk about that, if you see fit, but time is short. Traffic on this road will be growing heavy soon. There are many haulers like me, though none as rises so monstrous early. In perhaps an hour, at first light, they'll be joined by a wagon heavy-laden with fresh meat. The wagon is well guarded. Is this information of interest to you?"

Garth's ire-flattened ears pricked up instantly at the news and he inquired "How well guarded?"

"Two mounted bowmen in front and two more behind. The wagon driver has a crossbow. That is all."

"That's too much," Garth regretfully replied. "Archers are a wolf's bane. Thank you for your information, Mr. Atkins. Perhaps we'll talk again some time. You may go."

The man turned away, hesitated, then turned back and said "There's another thing..."

"Yes?"

"The road ahead is unstable; cut deep in the base of a wicked crumbling rock-slide-slope. At the slope's crest, if one were to look, one would find several large boulders precariously set yet cleverly hidden from view; ready to come crashing down at a paw's touch."

"One would, would one?" Garth chuckled. "In that case one might almost believe one other here is an enemy to your baron as well!"

"One might." And then the man was gone, stepping briskly on his way with a fresh load of seasoned chestnut firewood for the liege he had so enthusiastically betrayed.

"Hah! What a player!" Molly laughed, "One breath he's quaking for his life and the next he's recruiting nightmare monsters to join him in his hopeless rebellion."

Garth looked thoughtful and replied "I think not so hopeless, Molly. Metagonia is paralyzed by corruption, everybody knows that, and their bright new king is hardly more than a child trying to stay alive. These bandits appear to be the only government this region has, and they're clearly doing a piss-poor job of it. Threadbare treaties protect them from outside invasion, for now, but what's to protect them from the wrath their own people?"

"Not me!" Molly growled. She sniffed the place where the man and his horse had stood, memorizing their ground-scent, then her nose was drawn to the much more interesting aroma of Garth's enchantingly handsome hinder end. The female part of it in particular. She sidled closer and--

"Yipe!"

--his fluffy tail flipped sideways at her muzzle's touch and he stood sawhorse-stiff for an instant, transfixed, then whirled himself out of reach and barked "Molly! Stop that! We need to find those loose boulders and get in position and--"

"So soon?" Molly teased. She pushed up neck to neck and murmured "Now? Right-this-instant now? We have an hour to kill before the meat wagon arrives. Can't we put that time to a more diverting use?"

Garth's breath caught shuddering at the contact and he held himself motionless, for a moment, then stroked his body sensuously forward alongside her, keeping tail end clear but right away snuffle-nuzzling her own, and Molly's tail snapped eagerly aside for him just as his had for her. She jumped and scampered off, Garth nose-tickling behind her, both wolves lust-crazy now but not quite crazy enough to engage in canine-style copulation nigh dawn's light on an enemy-infested road. When they were safe in dense brush she let him catch her but "Garth?" she murmured, twisting her hindquarters coyly aside, "Garth, I think I'd like to do the mounting this time."

Garth reared back from her, looking shocked. "Molly are you daft?" he snorted, his tactless words carried on a voice sounding strangely unsure, "You wouldn't like it. Beneath that fur you're still a woman, don'tcha know."

"Am I?" Molly growled, flopping down and stretching one leg back to reveal a wolf cock as large as Garth's and fully as aroused--wet red tip already peeking out from the sheath in readiness for immediate use. "When we made love last night this part also felt the pleasure... and responded in kind. The scent of it is still there on me. Can you ignore it?"

"Er... no..."

"What makes a man, Garth? There's the crotch-cod, of course... like this one I have now..."

"Molly I don't think..."

"Men are strong and smelly but we're both strong now, and everything we smell is smelly. There's a man's gallantry, I suppose..."

"Gallantry? Molly what's got into you?"

"I could do that, Garth."

"Do what?"

"I could be gallant and brave and foolish for you. I've done it once already."

"Molly really! I don't think--"

"We'll have a contest! Whosoever proves bravest and most gallant shall have 'is rightful way with the other!"

"Molly that's not--"

"Eh now shush m'sweets, a manly man would not heed such talk, nor a wolfly wolf. Away now! We have boulders to roll and rampant havoc to wreak!" Then Molly leapt full tilt at the steep slope beside them, clawing her way upward toward the crest of the boulder slide, and her comrade Garth was left, perforce, to follow along behind.

An hour is a short time, in sooth, when one has work to do, and no lovemaking took place on that tricksy boulder slope. The pair of them had hardly explored it properly before Garth called out "Look! Over there, to the west, heading back our way... it's Tommy 'o the Crooked Dell, our firewood man... and sakes alive what a lightsome foot he has when his mare's unladen!"

"And when he knows a cascade of crashing rocks will strand him in his master's castle if he fails to pass our trap before the meat wagon does," Molly laughed. "And... there it is! Rounding the bend to our left! He can't see it yet but perhaps he hears... look he's jumped astride and they're galloping now! Bareback! Who'd have guessed she's trained for riding, or him to ride? Thomas get ye down, fool! The wagon guards will see you and--huh. That's better."

Thomas had galloped past the slide area and at once jumped down, marvelously nimble for an old man. Now he was shambling slowly, gaze glued to the earth, and his mare had developed a nasty dragging limp to her left hind leg. When the front-riders came nigh he drove her up onto the brushy upslope road verge where both held stock-still and meekly downcast until the wagon and its escort had passed. When the way was clear he eased his mare gently back to the roadbed then gazed upward to where the hellwolves hunkered low. Perhaps he saw them there, perhaps not. Garth's white fur might show a bit but it was somewhat dirt-streaked, if truth be told, and even a four hundred pound wolf is hard to make out when pressed belly-down to the ground and shielded by dense layers of green and autumn-gold brush. He didn't gaze for long, in any case, but shrugged eloquently and turned away, stepping out briskly homeward with his sumpter mare bobbing cheerfully unguided by his side, her lameness entirely gone.

Garth was crouched beside her and a bit in front, closer than he needed to be, tail held stiff-straight-back and clearly pining for more lascivious attentions. "Sakes I love that man!" Molly laughed, sending said tail quick-twitching upwards with a sudden nose-caress to parts beneath. "He's as sneaky as a hellhound."

"But not one farthing as sneaky as you!" Garth snapped, jumping up and whipping his hindquarters out of easy reach. "Molly we have a battle to fight, in case you've forgotten. It will kill us if we're not careful. Can't you keep your thoughts focussed on it for just one minute?"

Molly crooned "Anything for you, my dear," and scampered off hock-kick-high to station herself by the western-most boulder, farthest one to the right. Boulder number seven Garth had named it. "My rocks and I are ready at your word!" she barked.

Molly's view of the road was obscured from her new vantage but no matter; Garth was in charge now and he would tell her when to move. He was a good captain, clearly competent--and a good friend too! And lover. Molly stretched herself long and sighed softly, amorously, resting lovestruck eyes on the spring-tensed beauty of his strong white-silvered flanks. His white-silvered tail had been forgotten in his excitement and had taken the opportunity kink itself upwards and sideways in flagrant female lust. Molly looked back in sudden suspicion and found that her own dark tail had done that too.

Garth was everything a good man should be. Except for no longer being a man, of course, strictly speaking. Why was she teasing him so about his unwanted wolf-bitch parts? Sure she was horny but another hard rutting from behind would quench that fire well enough. Surely it would--

"Molly brace your paws," Garth softly growled. "At my word... push!"

Molly's forepaws were on the boulder and she kicked back fiercely with her rear, snapping her back straight to send the ponderous thing toppling so quickly she lost balance and tumbled muzzle-first into the place where it had been. The boulder was gone from view now but grinding crack-booms from below told of other rocks jarring loose and joining it, the thunder-roar of shattering stone growing quickly stronger, then... beginning to fade. She untangled herself and edged forward for a look but--

"Molly quick! Number six! The stones are slowing down!"

Number six was close by and larger, half her size and likely twice her weight. She sprang for it in a single wild leap, bouncing back gracefully and jarring the thing forthwith on its way. A crashing reverberation ensued and the ground shook thrumming beneath her feet while Molly stood there proud, and bemused, until rock dust in her nose brought forth an unanticipated sneeze.

"Yes! That'll do it! Stand by number four now but wait, this may be a few minutes, and for mercy's sake don't send it down until you're certain I've given the command!"

The rockslide sounds abated while Molly moved to her new station growl-grumbling, irritated by the implication of Garth's words. Of course she would wait for his order! Did he think her stupid?

"And don't take umbrage at my tone now," he added, noting the flattened ears when he spared a glance her way, "In a battle it's control that triumphs, and clear communication. If I've hurt your feelings I'll apologize later, when we have time. Our rock slide has reached the road now, safely in front and no harm done. Yet. They can't go forward but the road is too narrow to permit a turn, so they'll have to unhitch the team and walk them around, then re-hitch them and drag the wagon backwards until they find a spot wide enough to turn it properly. Yes! There they go, the horses are unhitched... walking them back... get ready Molly, I'll be giving the command... now!"

Molly dislodged boulder number four, giving it just the right force this time; once again the rock slide rumbled into savage life... and once again began prematurely to fade.

"Damn! It's freezing up again! Send down number three! As soon as you reach it! Then go back and send down number five. I'll take one and two." Garth had abandoned his viewing perch and was bounding up towards her and to her left, to where stones one and two were located. Molly pushed loose stone three, then stone five, and below her the rock-crack-reverberations caught up again, grew stronger, swiftly mounted to ear-hurting force. Beneath her feet the ground began to tremble in an earthquake of their own making while around her rock dust grew fog-thick, wafted upward by a zephyr breeze, and the crash of shattered rock below them drowned out all other sounds. Soon the roar faded, and the ground beneath her feet grew still. She found a safe perch to look down from and...

...Baron William's meat wagon was still on the road.

It was abandoned, yes. It had been pushed sideways by tons of rock-rubble and even now teetered on the downslope road shoulder, yes. The men and horses were far away and running farther, yes... but what was the value in that? They needed that wagon all the way down, on the gorge bottom, before they could safely take their spoils. Molly saw all these things in an instant, made her choice, and--

"Molly come back, you idiot! You'll be killed!"

--threw herself straightaway upon the still-shifting rockslide surface, dancing jig-quick 'cross the top of it--faster girl, faster, keep your feet on top--couldn't stop now if she tried! Straight toward the wagon she steered herself and when she reached it bounced back hard with all the strength of all four feet, four hundred pounds of flesh striking with the speed of a galloping wolf, and o'er the edge it went. Molly bounced sideways, her speed checked and control partly returned, and half-fell half-leaped in great brush-snapping diagonal bounds to the birch-sheltered safety of the gorge's floor. Not far from her the the wagon crashed down in flesh-splattered splendor and more landslide rocks--many more rocks--and then Garth himself.

"Molly you harebrained half-wit idiot!" he bellowed, raging straight at her like a mad thing, "That was the dumbest sarding dumb-ass stunt I've seen since--"

"--since we attacked a half-hundred bandits last week?" Molly bellowed back "All by ourselves? Then decided it was not enough and we needed to invade their homeland too? The dumbest dumb-ass thing since then, did you mean?"

Garth snapped shut snarling jaws and glared back at her, eyes blazing carmine-bright in his agitation. He made to speak and stopped, breathed deeply three times, tried again and "Thank you for not dying," he said at last.

"You're welcome," Molly laughed back at him, in the dawn-dark birch shadows her own eyes blazing bright, she doubted not, with the giddy joy of her own fool's-luck foolishness. "But was it rash enough?" she inquired, dancing up to him neck to neck, scenting rock dust and birch sap and mortal wolfy fear in his ruffled fur. Overhead an arrow snapped through twigs and leaves, guided close by the noise of their quarreling and--

"Sarding-hell-yes!" he hissed. "Grab a pig and let's get ourselves the sarding-hell out of here. After that you can do any sarding-hell thing you want with my sarding-hell double-duty lupine ass."

"Why thank you dear!" Molly purred, "I believe I shall."

Garth grunted "Hmmpff," but said no more than that. A small bullock and several pig carcasses were scattered by the ruined wagon and he chose the largest pig, not quite half his size, seizing the neck firmly in his jaws and flinging the rest up high and onto his back, buck-bumping to balancing it there then trotting off downstream by the riverbank, making no attempt at all to conceal his trail.

Molly took a pig for herself and trotted quicktime after him, drooling wistfully over meat in her mouth she dare not eat and fragrantly seductive haunches in front of her she really shouldn't want to hump. She had been unfair to him, she knew, lust or no lust. When time allowed she would make amends. Or perhaps... fornicate wildly with him first, and make amends later. "Molly stop that!" she told herself but again and yet again the sultry winds of amour confounded such sensible thoughts. How long was this botched spell of hers going to last, anyway?

As they hurried south along the gorge bottom Garth began to conceal the signs of their passage, seeking out gravel bars that held no tracks and finally cutting sharply back to the riverbed when their path crossed a stretch of dry bedrock scoured clean by spring-melt floods. They waded upstream then, leaving no scent, waded quietly past the wagon wreck and nigh a league beyond, then found a trickling feeder stream and waded up that until Garth turned aside and threw down his burden in a shadowed hillside hollow thickly overgrown with birch and oak. Vile curses had serenaded them as they crept unseen, shouting out many-voiced from the gorge road near and far, but no curse nor hound-yap nor any sound at all had come from the gorge's boulder-tumbled floor.

Later they were told the baron's men found many excellent reasons not to leave the road's safety and spread themselves thin through tangled mossy gorge-floor forest in search of house-sized earthquake-spawning demon wolves. Especially demon wolves whose eyes and fur blazed hot in the shadowed dawn with hell's own fire--demon wolves looking very much like the one that had taken their master's hand, and by some accounts his soul.

Especially not like that one.

But that was later. Now was breakfast time! At Garth's cue Molly threw down her pig and at once began to feed, no thoughts left in her for banter, or sex, or the far-off bangs and crashes of frantic road repair across and down the gorge from them. They ate unspeaking, the two of them, until their bellies would hold no more, jagged cheek teeth shearing skin and bone and cartilage with uncanny ease. Never had Molly eaten a pig so tender, nor so delicious! Cooking could not possibly have improved it.

When they were sated she wiggled up to Garth fawning, nuzzling for forgiveness, and forgiveness she received but no amorous overtures at all. Her comrade craved sleep now, nothing more, and that was fine because so did she.

The day was spent and far-off men still hard at work when Molly roused herself, well rested and no longer famished, though ready enough for another nibble if it came to that. She crept off to relieve herself but Garth woke straight off and trotted quickly out to join her. Her horniness had returned in full and Garth's activities were intensely interesting now, more than she cared to admit. When he was done she cuddled up wiggling and said "Garth... I've thought a lot since our argument this morning. I was wrong to press you so, and I release you from any promise you feel you've made." She bumped up hip to hip with him then danced off widdershins sideways and stopped still, legs braced and tail kinked tight to one side in shameless she-wolf invitation. "But even so I'm randy as a bitch in heat, y'know. 'Tis a sham glamour, o'course, but while the feeling lasts yer welcome to have yer way with me as a male wolf does--right here an' now an' it suit yer whim--an' I pledge my word I'll make no attempt to turn the tables an' jump ye likewise from behind."

Garth stood rooted where he was and said "Molly... I've been thinking too. As a child I spent more time as fox than human and I cherish the memories of those years. In our time together the prince and I scoffed endlessly at the narrowness of the humans around us, vowing never to be like that, never to blind ourselves so. I have failed in that vow, I realize now. I've grown narrow too, but that doesn't mean I can't change! My friends at the academy have their opinions but it's your opinion I value and... Molly that pledge you just made... not to jump me from behind... well... 'twas my fear you'd think me less a man that made me force it from you, and freely I release you from it now."

Garth was burning for her, they both knew that. His readiness called to Molly by scent, by stance, by the trembling-tight tone of his voice. She gamboled back to him laughing "Garth you silly puppy! You are no less a man to me for all your fur and claws and sumptuous she-wolf smelliness. You are Garth. You are my hero, my captain, and my friend." She jumped up on him suddenly, from behind, leaning hard upon his rump and locking strong forelegs tight around his furry thighs. "An' I'm yer lass Molly O'Dowd, who with yer gracious leave will be sardin' ye right here right now afore ye sardin' well change yer mind!"

At her actions Garth bucked once in shock then held himself stock-still, pant-trembling, ears pressed flat to his head in embarrassment or anticipation or both. His tail was twisted clear already so Molly shifted her grip and walked herself closer, molding her body to his, her cock tip and sheath slipping between his hind legs and bumping up against the bulging base of his own sheathed member. She humped herself forward, testing, feeling fur against her belly and perhaps the moist soft sliding touch of his swollen female folds, pulled back and lifted up, or began to lift until Garth's hips shifted downward just a bit and pushed backward unexpectedly, finding and engulfing her cock tip in one single surprising movement. Throat-catch pleasure overwhelmed her and Molly's hips bucked forward unbidden then, rocking her with quick short reflex thrusts while untouched female parts behind and inside her shivered hot in phantom-pleasured synchrony. She hooked her forelegs harder, pulling Garth roughly back against her, driving in as far as she would go while her hips still thrust unstopping, unstoppable, and within his untried passage her knot began at once to swell. She held Garth close and pressed urgent-thrusting deep within him, lost in a daze of lust as her knot swelled larger, tight-locking her in place. She felt the molten inward-pulling tremor of approaching climax and thought too soon! Garth deserved better from her! Froze her movements for a moment but then her hips jerked sharply forward, by themselves, and kept on quiver-jerking quite a while before she got them stopped. Scarcely had she done that when Garth twitched strangely and exploded into frantic movements of his own, backward-humping hard beneath her while fiercely spasm-clenching and--Molly's spine arched stiff in blissful climax as her own release took her suddenly, without warning, and Garth whined softly in response as she crushed him close and pulse by pulse, by sweet quivering pulse, deep within him her seed began to flow.

She remained fiercely holding him, whisper-whimpering as the sensations flooding through her slowly faded, the heat abated... and the quivering... but not that sweet belly-clenching pulse. That still went on and on, and most magically delightful it was!

She felt an urge to turn and whispered "Garth?"

"Hmm... what?" he replied, his voice sounding dreamy and lust-befuddled.

"What do I do now?"

"You turn around, I suppose. Unless you want to camp out on top of me like I did with you."

"But..."

"You take your forelegs from around my thighs and set them on the ground beside me, both on the same side..."

"Garth I know that. I've seen dogs mating often enough. It's just... never mind." Molly did that, and slipped a hind leg up and over, and then they were standing tail to tail like street dogs or hellhounds and it was... rather nice. Rather nice indeed. Molly's helpless pulsing was still ongoing, as was Garth's delicious clenching response, and her knot felt like it might never shrink down again. Not that she wanted it to.

They stood together softly panting, oblivious to the twilight forest sounds around them until--

Gurgle- plop!

A surge of panic shot through her and in seconds Molly's knot shrank down to nothing and slithered free from Garth's hot folds. She hissed "What's that sound?" and Garth replied "Shush..."

They both crept quickly into hiding and stood crouched together side by side, watching their back trail in fierce fight-ready concentration.

Long silence then a muffled stone-click downstream from them and a loud splash, followed by low-voiced foul cursing and, "Melvin you oaf! That was my leg you just sat on!"

"Aye, Clyde. I ken that. Now if ye'll remove yer elbow from my ear we'll untangle ourselves and find a dry place to rest 'til morning. 'Tis grown too dark to hope on finding yer coy shy Crooked Dell friends today." More splashing and cursing followed, then clumsy wading sounds proceeding directly up the stream bed toward them and then "Aha! This'll do right well! The glen's flat bottomed, and dry, and... oh, shit."

The humans were full in view now, filthy and unarmed except for makeshift tree-branch-staffs, staring horrified at two bloody half-eaten pig carcasses on the ground before them. Garth began to growl and the taller one said "Melvin, it were good knowin' ye."

Molly crept around and emerged from concealment hard behind them. She cleared her throat and addressed the shorter one saying "Tell me now, Melvin; who is your master?"

Both men jumped and turned to face her and Molly stood motionless, holding their attention while Garth slipped out from concealment and bite-snatched the tall one's staff, tossing it far away with a casual snap of his neck. In their confusion Molly darted in and snatched away Melvin's staff then asked again "Your master? Surely you remember that small thing?"

Both men quaked terror-stinking before her and Melvin said "N-n-no one? We served the baron but now we've run away. He'll hang us both if he gets us back."

Molly smiled, toothily, and purred "Good answer! For that I'll make your death quick, and as painless as I can conveniently manage. You've stumbled upon our secret lair, after all, and as any bandit knows, the only safe witness is a dead witness." She edged closer and Melvin blubbered "Wait! I can pay! I have something you might want and if you spare me I'll show you where it is."

"Why should I waste my time listening to your lies?" Molly snarled. "You're just duping me to buy time, hoping for the miracle that never arrives. Thanks for the offer but we'll be sniffing over your corpses in any case, and if you carry valuables we'll take them then."

Melvin cried again "Wait! Give me a moment then make your own judgement. I guarantee you won't be sorry!" He untied his belt cord and slipped a hand within his breeches then squatted down, groping about in the vicinity of his anus. Molly groaned but left him to his work; in her whoring days she had been compelled to use that same dark hiding place herself, from time to time. "This had better be worth it!" she told the human and he nodded, finding at last what he was searching for. He wiped it frantically on his smock front and set it down on the ground before him, then backed himself carefully away.

Molly stepped forward to investigate the man's pitiful treasure, more than half inclined to spare him in any case for his desperate determination, but what she saw there made her freeze motionless in utter shock.

On the leafy forest loam before her, smelling of shit but magic-tingling and gleaming bravely by eventide's last dusky light, lay her dead master's hellwolf transformation sapphire.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded.

Melvin replied "I was the baron's taster and privy servant..."

"Which gave you the lucrative the opportunity to betray him in this way. How very enterprising of you."

"You don't understand! He was going to kill me! He hadn't said so yet but I know he was. When his taster died he gave the job to me but there was another poisoning attempt. And I survived..."

"So you're saying in your heart you're truly loyal to my hated enemy but circumstances forced you to flee?"

"Yes... er... no! I'm not loyal to him! I'm just trying to stay alive. What answer do you want to hear?"

"Trying to stay alive will do," Molly purred, gently gathering up the sapphire in one paw-hand and hop-walking three-legged to the nearby stream bank. She sat there and washed it with both paw-hands until it was clean enough to suit her then teased open the drawstring of her neck pouch and tucked the jewel carefully inside, beside the yard pebble. She whispered "Shamus," and pulled the drawstring tight, then let the pouch fall back into the small pocket it had pressed in the thick black fur of her throat ruff.

While she did these things the humans remained unmoving, and silent, as did her comrade Garth. When she was done she said to Melvin "You were right. I am not sorry you showed this to me." She turned to the other human and asked him "What is your name? Is it Clyde?"

The tall man nodded.

"Why are you here with Melvin?"

"He is my friend."

"If we spare you, where will you go?"

Clyde replied "We're thinking Valinoin, if we can make it that far. No place in Metagonia will ever be safe for us."

Molly told him "You are both free to go."

The two humans nodded nervously then backed off and began to push out blindly into the dusk-shadowed gorge-slope brush. Already it was too dark for them to see their way. Molly saw them fumbling and called out "Wait. You stay here and we'll go. Are you hungry? Will you eat raw meat if we leave it for you?"

Clyde and Melvin shared a glance and both shrugged, then nodded. Melvin said "Yes."

Molly said "Very well. We'll go now, and we won't be creeping back to murder you in your sleep. If you make it to Valinoin tell them Garth and Molly sent you." Molly bite-shouldered a carcass and Garth sank his teeth in the other one then with a savage twist of his neck rent the bloody thing in twain, dropping a tooth-mangled but still meaty haunch-end on the ground by his feet. He walked off into the gorge brush still carrying the other half and Molly followed him with her unbroken one balanced across her back. As she left the glen she looked behind her one last time and saw the two humans staring after her, frozen-faced, no doubt just beginning to let themselves believe they might live to greet another dawn.

Giddy with the triumph of their unbelievable good fortune Garth and Molly trotted tail-wagging downwind from there, not very far, and found a place just beyond human earshot to lie down and eat while keeping fond watch over the hapless fugitives. Molly sniffed the air sensuously, savoring the rich scent of her comrade's readiness, but for the moment her belly had priority. She gulped down a juicy mouthful and said "We've been so busy avenging your father's death we never had time to hold a proper wake for him. Should we be doing that now, d'ya suppose?"

Garth answered "Yes! Let's do that." He raised his muzzle to the branch-tangled starry sky above and intoned "Spirits attend me! I hereby proclaim the wake of my cherished father Shamus Mactire, may he rest in eternal peace. By our actions and words tonight we celebrate his life, and share our memories of the ways in which he changed ours." He turned to Molly and asked her sotto-voce, "When you're got a minute pass me the port, por favor."

Molly laughed "Got no port ma'am but I've a prime fresh pork rack here to spare. Rare. Would you fancy some o' that?"

"All set on pork flesh, thank you dear. Got any salted bandit heads?"

"No, ne'er a one. Those first corpses were hellhound-kills and the one we met in Long Valley is surely wolf-et by now, head and all. And we keep letting the live ones get away! Not that it matters, of course. We're fresh out of salt in any case. Maybe Tom Atkins will give us some if we ask him nicely. To keep around for future use, ya know. Just in case. D'you reckon he'll want to hear about these new friends of ours? They said they're looking for 'Crooked Dell' folk and Tom said we could call him Tommy of the Crooked Dell. Suppose there's a connection?"

"Seems likely. Let's talk to him tomorrow. Tonight is my father's time!" Garth lowered his voice and said "And speaking of my father now, no disrespect intended, I've been meaning to ask you if he ever--"

"Ever treated me in a manner unchaste?"

"Er... yes."

"Damn right he did! We were bedmates from nigh on the first day. My offer, glad to show my gratitude and all, but your father was by no means shy."

"Ah... yes. I thought that likely. He was always a free spirit that way. Please tell me he didn't--"

"Didn't force me? Heavens no! As I said, it was my idea. Saved us both a mort of fuss." She licked Garth in the ear and whispered "Sometimes we even did it in fur! The wolf transformation spell was a work in progress, after all, and we both wanted to make certain he got it just right."

"Arrrgh! That's my dad, alright." Garth busied himself cracking a pig femur into small chips then added "This incident with the gem's return to us also bears the stamp of his work. Artfully elegant it was, as if orchestrated by powers beyond our ken, and yet rank with the stamp of my father's earthy humor."

Molly snorted "Earthy! Such a kind word ye've chosen for Melvin's poor mistreated bum." She grew quiet a moment then added "I fancy you've the right of it with your suspicions about supernatural intervention, though, and it might well be your father at the root of it. Those sneaky gentle-looking ones are the worst, y'know. When they're proper riled they'll wheedle Death himself for a wink and sneak on back to do any damn mortal meddling they can get away with." She called out softly to the night saying "Shamus! Thank you for your help, if you're responsible for our good fortune this day. If you're not at the root of it thank you anyway, for I'm certain you'd help us if you could. And... if we've got it all wrong and you're some other force with the yen to help us... well a deeply sincere thanks to you, as well."

Molly grew silent and both hellwolves turned their attention back to feeding themselves in the ancient lupine way--cracking large bones to lick out the marrow and crushing small bones and meaty gristle into chips small enough to swallow down. After a time they noticed fire-glow from the humans' camp and smelled smoke, then the aroma of roasting pork.

Molly laughed, "They brought flint and steel with them! Clearly they're not so helpless as we thought." Belly full she rose and sensuously stretched, mind drifting to erotic thoughts again, then turned and caught Garth lustfully ogling her tail-raised hinder end. She wagged happily for him and he turned away grumbling "Right. They're clever maybe, but not wise. Like as not the firelight will give their hiding place away."

Molly laughed again, breathing in deep to savor his own heady heated scent. She sidled close and asked him "Do you really think they're in danger? Should we go back and warn them?"

Garth was horny now too. Impossible for him to hide a thing like that and why try? He rose up tall on his hind legs and balanced himself that way, bear-like, knowing full well how that position exposed his belly and clearly aroused male member to Molly's close-nosed scrutiny. Carefully and at length he studied the faint fire-glow then dropped back to four feet and said "No. I was being over-critical. Their fire is in a hollow with heavy brush around it and no direct line of sight outward. A human would not detect the reflected glow unless right on top of them. Would you really have gone back to warn them?"

Molly lick-tickled his ear then tucked her tail in coy pretense and told him "Yes. I feel a little guilty taking their treasure from them with naught but a half-eaten pig as compensation."

Garth snorted at her little game and pressed up close against her, resting his neck amorously across hers, then snuggled his hindquarters even closer saying "And their lives? Have they no value as compensation?"

Molly pressed back against the horny wolf beside her saying "Yes, of course they do. To them. But I'd have killed 'em a thousand times to get back your father's gem!" She wondered if Shamus would approve of his son and mistress making beastly hot love at his wake and thought, of course he would! Wakes are for fun and celebration of life, not pretentious sham-grieving. Garth was working his way subtly backward now, resting a paw across her haunches and murmuring "I'd've killed 'em two thousand times! No half-measures for me!" Silly lust-thoughts bubbled through her and Molly pushed her hips back against him laughing "Four thousand and that's my final offer. I'll be ravished by ravening forest wolves before I'll go higher!"

"You mean like this?" Garth teased, seizing her thighs and mounting up on her while Molly pretended to struggle then lowered her head and braced her legs for him in playful submission. Her tail was caught beneath his belly so she tugged it free with a paw-hand and told him softly "Yes. Like that."