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Chapter 18

When Kilyan awoke, he was lying on the floor, on a bed of bearskins. His arm and side were stiff with bandages and held him momentarily paralyzed as the sudden anguish washed over him. The room was hot and stank of medicine. Water was splashing. The strange smells were oppressing in the heat. Kilyan frowned and his head rocked on the pillow. His eyes cracked open and he whispered, "Mmm . . . Ohana?"

"No," said an amused voice, a female's voice, "but close."

Kilyan's eyes followed the sound of the voice to a young female kneeling at his side. Her fur was white but for the thin black stripes around her slanted eyes. Her eyes were black and sparkled with a mirth very reminiscent of Lynny, Kilyan thought. She was older than him, at least by ten summers. Gold studs glinted in her erect white ears and in her dark nose. Her breasts were wrapped in a silky black garment that criss-crossed to cover them. She must've been the only female in the winter village to wear clothing. She was a shaman!

Kilyan stared. Winter wolves did not allow females to learn magic. Winter wolves did not allow females to do anything. So how was it that this female - who, by her giant stature, was clearly a winter wolf - had come to be shaman here?

"I am Nayati," she said, wringing a cloth over a bowl of water. The cloth was bloody.

"Nayati," Kilyan repeated weakly.

Nayati shrugged up her shoulders and nodded shyly as she wrung the cloth out. She was presiding over a tray filled with bowls of various medicines. A small pitcher of water was also on the tray, as well many bloody rags, bandages, and a short stick with a gourd attached to it. Kilyan had seen such gourd instruments before. The rattles were used by shaman to heal wounds. The one on the tray was dangling with feathers and beads. Glancing down at his belly, Kilyan realized his side had been bandaged. His injured arm was also in a sling.

"I am not powerful enough," Nayati said apologetically, "to heal you completely. But I have sped up the process."

"Thank you," Kilyan said hoarsely.

Nayati nodded shyly again. She took up the pestle on the tray and started grinding something in a bowl. She bowed her head over her work. The white feathers woven in her mane dangled forward. "Cousin Zaldon could only teach me so much before he decided to move away . . . he still returns. To teach me. So the village isn't without magic . . ."

". . . Cousin Zaldon?" Kilyan repeated.

Nayati smiled. "Eloein was my father . . . Cousin Zaldon raised me, taught me magic so that I could succeed him. The council was against it, of course, but there was no one else. My brother Eno was the only boy in the family line . . ."

Eno. Kilyan's face darkened. He looked away. "Why couldn't Zaldon just take on some random male apprentice? That's what they do in other villages . . ." Kilyan sheepishly avoided her eye: summer wolves did not have magic. There was a shaman once a long time ago, but he abused his power and was cast out. After that, the summer wolves had developed a distrust for magic, and all knowledge of it was banned from the village.

"Among we of the winter, it is tradition that knowledge of magic is passed down through a single bloodline. My family has mastered magic in this village for centuries, for it is believed we are descendants of the great sorceress Imani, whose child became a sorcerer and protected our tribe. It was Imani's child - the sorcerer Eldan - who created the Summer Fields so that the winter wolves could survive the perpetual winter. I am the first female to wield magic among my tribe. And when I have a son, I will pass the knowledge on to him." She nodded dutifully.

Kilyan looked at her in amusement. She was older than him, but she was so soft-spoken and shy that he kept thinking she was about fifteen. However, if Zaldon had raised her with Eloein's other children, she had to be twenty-something.

"Why not pass the knowledge on to a female?" Kilyan suggested.

"I . . ." she frowned. "Well . . ."

"You've already broken tradition. This is your chance to keep breaking it."

Nayati smiled at him fondly. "Perhaps I will then, Kilyan. Perhaps I will."

Kilyan looked around the room. "Where are we?" He realized for the first time that he was not in a hut. The ceiling that loomed over him was made of canvas.

"In a tent," Nayati answered patiently, "in the Summer Fields. There was no time to journey here and back for the herbs, so I . . . brought you with me." She smiled.

Kilyan frowned. The Summer Fields were north of the winter village - a little far north. The hike back to the summer village would now have a few extra days on it.

"I live with Lynny and Idella . . . Because I will be a sorceress one day, it was I who inherited Grandfather Nilwin's home. I was coming home when you were in the street . . . bleeding."

Glancing at her, Kilyan knew there were more grisly details but that she was holding them back for his sake. "Where are the others?"

"They are here," Nayati assured him.

"My father? Yzlo? Hris?"

"Yes."

"Keeno? Gurwin?"

"Yes . . ." She looked at him in amusement, and they both knew who he really wanted to ask about.

Kilyan swallowed. "Ohana?"

Nayati looked at her work and said quietly, "Yes."

Kilyan closed his eyes. He didn't know how he could face Ohana after what he had done. She had begged him to walk away, to just go home. But he couldn't leave her. Not after he had come so far, not after he had looked into her eyes and seen her smile. The way she had run to him when he entered her house . . . he wanted her to do that for the rest of their lives. He wanted.

"I had to make her leave your side," Nayati said after a pause. "She didn't want to be away from you . . . but she was in my way." She smiled sadly.

Kilyan frowned. "How is she?"

Nayati lowered her long white lashes. "Coping."

Kilyan averted his eyes and listened dismally as Nayati splashed in the basin and cleaned her paws on a cloth.

"I will go and find her. She wished to see you as soon as you awoke."

Kilyan closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see Ohana. Not yet. He was not eager to see her sad gray eyes, to have her hold his paw and cry. How many lovers had she lost now? Six. Five killed by Lallo . . . and one killed by him. What she had gone through the past year, he could not even imagine. Did she resent Lallo for killing all those lovers? Did she now resent him?

After all, Lallo had not been the face of evil Kilyan had so naively imagined. He hadn't treated Ohana badly. He was simply a boy like Kilyan, looking to protect the female he loved. He was a boy who died needlessly because a stupid tradition said he had to.

Ohana ducked inside the tent, her anxious eyes fixed on him. Her long silver mane hung straight around her as she came to him, and with shivering breasts, knelt at his side. She took his paw - just as he knew she would - and smoothed the black tendrils of mane back from his eyes. He swallowed, tried to ignore the pain, and smiled for her benefit, wishing she had brought some of that pain-numbing paste the winter wolves were famous for.

"How are you?" Ohana asked hoarsely.

"I should be asking you the same thing."

Kilyan looked at her and wanted to hold her. She had been crying, he could tell. Her voice was thick and her eyes were still wet, but she was putting on a brave face for him. She was determined not to make him feel any worse than he did already. She was determined to lift her chin and move forward. In that moment, she looked brave and strong as she knelt beside him, but he knew that inside . . . she was a torn girl coping with loss.

Ohana lifted her chin. "I will survive. I am more concerned about you . . . my husband."

Kilyan smiled. "Lay down with me . . . Ohana . . ."

Ohana returned his smile. With her long mane shifting around her, she snuggled up against Kilyan in the bearskins and rested her cheek on his shoulder. Her small paw smoothed over the hard muscles of his chest. He closed his arm around her and stroked her mane. They lay together a long time, in silence.

"Why did you choose me?" Kilyan said eventually.

"Why wouldn't I choose you?"

"Ohana . . . Lallo and I weren't that different. If I was married to you and a bunch of males kept trying to take you from me, I'd fight them to the death too. All of them. He believed he was protecting you; the same way I believed I was protecting you. Then he was wealthy . . . and you would have been first wife in his house while in my house . . ." Kilyan thought of Lea at home pregnant with his first child. Ohana was going to be second wife, which meant she would be under Lea, doing most of the housework and taking care of their little ones - though knowing Lea, all the work would be split right down the middle.

"And you said you loved me," Kilyan added in a hushed voice. "But you loved him too." He frowned. "Why choose me?"

"I love you more."

Kilyan glanced down at Ohana. She was smiling at him with trembling lips. He pulled her close in his arm and kissed her head.

The moment Kilyan felt well enough to walk, the group set out from the Summer Fields, bidding Nayati farewell. Ohana had already said her goodbyes to her parents back at the winter village and had a packed bag of her things with her in the fields. And so the group set out in a line for the summer lands, following Gurwin's black back as the older wolf led them through the trees.

Though Kilyan's injured arm remained in a sling, he insisted on carrying his spear on his shoulder. He walked in the middle of the line with Ohana at his side, while behind him, Keeno and Hris brought up the rear. Yzlo walked in front of them, and Kel followed behind Gurwin at the very front.

On the third day, it began to rain. Aliona had knitted a hooded shawl for Ohana's return journey with Kilyan. It was a soft sky blue, and when Kilyan placed it around her shoulders, she gasped happily. Kilyan reflected that she had probably never worn a shawl before. Instead of donning a shawl as summer maidens did, winter wolf females pierced one of their nipples after they were married. Kilyan was glad to know that Ohana had never been pierced. She had refused it, expecting Kilyan to come for her.

Kilyan pulled the hood up over Ohana's long silvery mane -- and playfully tugged it down over her eyes. She pushed the hood back and smirked at him, tucking the ends of her mane under it. "How do I look?" she said, straightening up and thrusting out her breasts.

Kilyan cocked an eyebrow, "Good enough to eat."

Ohana giggled and her tail flashed.

The rain was coming in a light patter, but Kilyan knew that in only a few days, it would come down too hard to see. They had stopped to rest and the group was dropping off traveling packs, muttering amongst themselves, pacing. Kilyan sat under a tree with Ohana, helping her adjust her shawl while Keeno stood nearby, watching the two as he held his spear.

"And here I am burning with envy," Keeno muttered. He smiled at Ohana and jerked his head. "Kilyan let me do his first wife. Think he'll let me do you too?"

Kilyan frowned. "Keeno!" he cried, glancing frantically at the others. Thankfully, Kel seemed too engrossed in his conversation with Yzlo and Hris to have heard. Gurwin, meanwhile, was standing apart from the others, peering off into the rain.

Ohana only giggled. She adjusted her breasts and dragged her pink tongue across her fang. "I don't know," she answered Keeno playfully. "Why don't we ask him?"

Keeno's brows shot up. "Oh, I like her. I like her a lot."

Kilyan's ear flicked irritably. "Knock it off, you two. Something is wrong." He peered past Ohana at his father. Kel had approached Gurwin and looked on the verge of speaking to him.

"Kilyan . . .?" Ohana said worriedly.

Kilyan tore his eyes away from Kel. "What's the matter?"

Ohana frowned almost sadly. "What if . . . what if your first wife doesn't like me?"

Kilyan smiled. "Oh, Ohana," he said, closing his paw over hers, "Lea will love you."

Ohana looked into his eyes and smiled, relieved.

"Dad?" Kel was saying, and Kilyan looked at his father again. Kel approached Gurwin uncertainly. "Dad . . . we're lost, aren't we?" It wasn't really a question.

It was true that they were lost. Leaving the winter village through the Summer Fields had thrown them all off. None of them had ever been this far north except for Gurwin, and even he had not been in the area for decades.

Gurwin didn't look at Kel. Kilyan thought he looked sort of sad. "I lied to you, you know," he said. His voice was soft, devoid of a growl.

Kel's ears pricked forward.

"I told you you were born in the summer village." Gurwin shook his head. "No. You were born by the river, just east of here." He turned to Kel and looked at him. "Your mother started giving birth as we were making our way south. I was frightened and didn't know what to do. She lost so much blood . . . she was going to die."

Kel's ears flattened. "I don't want to hear this."

"But you will hear it!" Gurwin cried and grabbed Kel's arm when he tried to turn away. Tears were streaming down his face.

Kel halted and stared at his father, amazed. Everyone in the group fell still, and Kilyan had to admit he was amazed as well: he had never seen Gurwin show so much emotion, let alone cry.

"S-She gave birth to you," Gurwin went on. "To both of you. You had a twin brother. He died shortly after he was born. Your mother passed out . . . with you crying at her breasts. You screamed and screamed . . . I thought she was dead, I thought you were going to die, so I gathered you in my arms . . . and I carried you away, I looked for help.

"I walked for hours. Eventually, I couldn't go on. I fell asleep under a tree, holding you. When I awoke, you were still screaming and strange wolves had gathered around me." He sniffed and more tears came. "They were the river tribe, Kel. All of them had fur the color of the water . . . and eyes the color of the sea. They took us back to their settlement. They were camped along the river, fishing in the reeds. Your mother was already with them. I was so h-happy to see she was alive. But she was angry with me. I had taken her by force from her tribe. It was my fault that she lost one of her children . . . the stress . . . the hunger, the long hours of walking . . . it was my fault . . .

"But she stayed with me. We buried your brother not far from here. I wept like a child. And that was when she decided to stay. I placed you in her arms and she looked at you . . . and she decided to stay. For you."

"But she didn't stay," Kel said darkly. "She left, Dad." He turned abruptly away, his jaw standing out hard.

"She left because of me, Kel," Gurwin said behind him. "She wanted to take you with her. I wouldn't let her. A female traveling alone was dangerous enough, but with an infant? Never. . . I couldn't allow it. And the thought of never seeing you again . . ."

"Mom had magic," Kel snapped. "She could have protected me."

"I wasn't willing to take that chance."

Kel sneered. "So she left. Because she was unhappy with you."

"Yes," Gurwin said hoarsely.

"And you told me for years that she didn't love me."

Gurwin was silent. Kilyan thought he looked as if he wanted to touch Kel's shoulder, but he knew better than to do so. He sniffed again and his green eyes glistened with emotion. "We could go to his grave together, Kel. Your brother. The grave isn't far from here --"

"No," Kel said at once. He spun around and looked at his father contemptuously. "What would that accomplish? You led us this way on purpose! Stop leading us in circles and take us home!"

"It might . . . give you peace."

"No," Kel shook his head. "It might give you peace," he said, stabbing a finger at his father. "You think I'm going to forgive you, you old bastard? You think I'll forgive you for the years of ridicule and abuse just because we go to my dead brother's grave together? So you suddenly have feelings like the rest of us? Did Zaldon's father hit you on the head and now my feelings matter?"

"Kel . . ." Gurwin said miserably.

"Do not look sad. You do not have the right to!"

Gurwin bowed his head. He wandered away a few paces, then slouched down on a rock. Kilyan couldn't believe it. He sat very still beside Ohana, waiting for the tension to subside, waiting for someone to do something or say something.

Hris was standing against a tree with his arms folded, listening to the arguing wearily, as if he was waiting for it to end so they could get back to what was important. Yzlo was holding his spear and watching Kel and Gurwin with a slight frown. Kilyan glanced over and saw that Keeno was standing very still, his brown eyes curious and searching. Ohana had her head down and was idly fingering the hood of her shawl.

"The sun is going down," Yzlo observed. He was speaking to Kel.

"We could stay here for the night," Hris added. He sat on a rock, and snapping off a blade of grass, he picked his fangs with it. "It's just gonna rain harder. Good number of trees in this area . . . ." He glanced at the canopy overhead and sniffed thoughtfully.

They had been sleeping at night and traveling during the day, which was the opposite of the norm when traveling the northern forest, Kilyan knew. Gurwin had insisted on it. The more it rained, the harder it was to see when traveling at night.

"Kel and I will collect firewood. And Keeno, you and Ohana are on rock detail," Yzlo said pointedly.

Keeno looked up. "Yes, sir . . ."

Kilyan knew Yzlo's aim was to separate Kel and Gurwin. He was secretly relieved. He didn't think he could take anymore arguing and slumped gratefully as he adjusted his sling.

Those with tasks went to them. Kilyan sat and watched as Kel and Yzlo went a little ways into the trees, talking in low voices as they bent to collect wood. Keeno went with Ohana around the immediate area, looking for rocks for the fire. She laughed on occasion, and Kilyan knew he was probably joking about the craziness of Kilyan's family.

Hris started pulling up grass and digging out a fire pit with the spade from his pack. He paused every now and then to trade the blade of grass in his teeth for a new one. One blade of grass made him gag and he chucked it. Kilyan smiled. He liked Hris. Hris was a bit older than Kel and Yzlo but had grown up with them in the summer village. He was a teenager when Kel and his friends were mere pups, and thus, he had participated in the ongoing wars with the winter tribe. Yet unlike Gurwin, Bayne, and other veterans, Hris seemed to carry no lasting hatred for the enemy. He was always very easygoing and calm. In fact, Kilyan thought he was just an older, more mature version of Keeno - minus the constant need to joke.

Kilyan was scratching the bandages on his side when Gurwin rose and came to him. He looked at his grandfather anxiously but was glad to see he had stopped crying. Gurwin's expression was thoughtful and solemn as he sat beside Kilyan on the grass and drew his knees up, resting his elbows on them. His body was the fit, tight body of a warrior, but he had taken on more weight in the face and belly as age crept up on him. There were also lines around his eyes. He was an older, more dour version of Kel.

"Your father needs to forgive me," Gurwin said, watching as Kel and Yzlo gathered wood.

Don't hold your breath, Kilyan thought. Kel was stubborn. And he held grudges. Forgiveness was not forthcoming.

"I didn't realize the error of my ways," Gurwin went on, "until I had the chance to see you and Kel together. Kel always stands beside you. He encourages and supports you. I . . ." Gurwin shook his head. ". . . never did that for him. I want to do it for him now. I just . . . don't know how to, Kilyan."

Kilyan frowned sadly. He didn't know what to say. "No matter what, Dad loves you, Grandpa."

Gurwin snorted. "Does he? Let us not pretend, grandchild: I have been a bad father. I fear I will continue to do so into my grave. I am starting to realize . . . I should have . . ." Gurwin scowled. "I just didn't want him to be a fucking tail chaser. The very thought terrifies me."

Kilyan looked away nervously. "Dad isn't a tail chaser!"

Gurwin looked at Kilyan curiously. "No . . ." he said slowly. "He's not." He turned his eyes away.

Kilyan slumped, relieved. He'd thought for one horrible moment that Gurwin was going to interrogate him. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for Gurwin finding out the truth about Kel. Not that Gurwin didn't already know. It seemed as if his grandfather knew - he just wanted Kel to admit it.

Before Gurwin could speak again, Kel and Yzlo returned. They knelt over Hris' freshly dug fire pit and dumped in the wood they had gathered. Keeno and Ohana returned with armfuls of stones and started placing them around the shallow pit as Yzlo struck up a flame. The tiny flame guttered in the wind and light rain, but Yzlo shielded it with his crouching body and blew on it gently until it was dancing brilliant with life.

"And now to break out suppa," Keeno said, rubbing his paws.

Hris grinned and pulled out two packages of salted meat. "Fish," he said, lifting one package, "or beef?" he added, lifting the other.

"Beef," Keeno and Yzlo said in unison.

Hris laughed around the long blade of grass in his teeth. "Like father, like son, eh?"

Yzlo looked at Keeno, who made his eyebrows dance. He laughed and ruffled Keeno's mane.

They all settled around the fire as Hris slowly cooked the meat. Kel passed around biscuits while Yzlo warmed a pot of vegetables on the edge of the flames. The pots and pans were wedding gifts from Idella and were of typical sturdy winter wolf craft. Idella had also gifted Kilyan and Ohana goblets and plates and a bottle of wine, which everyone passed round and filled their goblets with.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Ohana said, tipping a goblet of wine to Kilyan's lips.

Kilyan sipped the wine and licked his lips, thinking that she was beautiful. But he knew it would be too cliché to say.

"Mother had them made especially for us," Ohana went on happily. "She thought we'd have a wedding but . . ." She shrugged and one corner of her mouth dropped.

"We can if you want to," Kilyan told her.

Ohana beamed.

"How is the arm, my son?" Kel said, who had been listening to Kilyan and Ohana in amusement.

"And suppa is served!" crowed Keeno loudly.

Hris started portioning out plates and passing them around. Kilyan watched, knowing that Ohana was going to have to help him. With his injured arm he only had one useful paw, and he would not be able to hold his plate and eat from it. The first night they camped, he had attempted to balance his plate on his knee, insisting that he didn't need any help. The plate fell over and his food spilled. After that . . . he let Ohana help him.

"I think it'll be healed in a few days," Kilyan answered Kel. "Nayati said it would heal really fast. I can feel it getting stronger." Kilyan flexed the paw that was dangling from his sling - and winced when pain shot up his arm. "Ah!"

"Yes, well," said Ohana, frowning, "don't push yourself, Kilyan!" She took the plate that Keeno passed her, and lifting the fork from it, she speared a bit of beef and offered it lovingly to her husband.

Kilyan obediently opened his mouth and took the morsel. "Yes, dear," he teased.

"Isn't that sweet," said Hris around a mouthful. He swallowed and grinned. "Young love!"

"When are you getting married, Uncle Hris?" Keeno teased.

Hris snorted. "When cows fly."

Keeno's ears pricked forward. "Don't you mean pigs?"

"No . . . cows." Hris flicked a bit of beef off his fork. It hit Keeno on the cheek.

"Hey!" Keeno laughed. He was preparing to flick a wad of beef back when his father barked his name.

"I would think twice about wasting your supper," Yzlo warned Keeno, who flattened his ears like a pup. He looked at his brother-in-law. "And, Hris, you're like a child, for god's sake."

Hris grinned again.

Kilyan half-expected Gurwin to jump in on the scolding, perhaps bark for the others to shut up and eat so they could get to bed. But his grandfather was eating quietly, keeping his head down, occasionally glancing at Kel. He was moody and sullen and said nothing.

Twilight was slipping purple into the inky night sky when they rolled out their bedrolls. Ohana climbed in Kilyan's bedroll with him, and he felt the content washing over him as her curvy body pressed warm to his, as her slender fingers curled in his chest fur. She kissed his cheek and whispered that she loved him. He closed his eyes and smiled. His paw fumbled for her under the sheets.

"Oh!" she giggled when his fingers slipped between her thighs. "Kilyan! Oh . . . oh."

Around the camp, the others were breathing quietly as they slept. Kel was on watch with Yzlo, but the two seemed engrossed in yet another conversation as they sat around the fire. They didn't take notice of Ohana's soft giggling or the squirming that was happening under the sheets of Kilyan's bedroll.

Kilyan's large fingers massaged Ohana's clit, carefully and firmly. She was melting. Kilyan slid a finger in her sex and sighed to feel the moisture of her arousal. He brought it to his nose and sniffed it, then licked his fingers clean.

Ohana watched Kilyan with suffering eyes. "If only you had both your paws," she pouted.

Kilyan laughed softly. "Don't worry, it's healing. I promise I'll get a night in with you before we get home. Because after we reach the summer village, I won't be alone with either of you for a loooong time."

Ohana cocked an eyebrow. "That doesn't have to be a bad thing, Kilyan."

He stared at her. She liked females? Well . . . it didn't have to be a bad thing. Not at all . . . "No," Kilyan said, "I meant . . . Lea is pregnant. She was so big when I left, everyone was joking that it was twins . . ."

"Oi," Ohana said.

Kilyan grinned. "Yeah. . . . You're gonna love her," he whispered, smoothing his paw under her shawl. He closed it on her breast and massaged. "Mm . . . both of you have such huge, luscious tits . . ."

"Don't get hard, Kilyan."

"That's easy for you to say . . . Mm . . . I wanna suck them . . ."

"Kilyan . . ."

"What . . ."

"Go to sleep."

Kilyan sighed. "Yes, dear."

Ohana laughed softly and pecked him on the cheek. "Goodnight, my husband."

"Goodnight, my wife."

Lying on his back, Kilyan slipped his arm around Ohana and pulled her close. He buried his nose in her mane and breathed her scent. She smiled, her cheek bulging against his chest. He fell asleep with her in his arm.

When he awoke . . . the camp was surrounded.