Rose Estes - Master Wolf

But hyenas feared little and certainly not a lone wolf. Spitting out their own eerie cries that prefaced a clash, their short bear-like faces with upturned blunt noses seemed to grin in appreciation of the feast to come. Their ungainly bodies leaned forward in hump-backed anticipation. Their spotted, mangy fur and leering expression gave them a comedic look, but as they spread out around Tam and began to circle, Mika was in no way inclined to laughter.

Their actions caused Tam to circle as well, but no matter which way he turned, one of them was always at his back. If he advanced, jaws snapping ferociously, the hyena behind him slashed out with razor-sharp teeth.

They harried Tam back and forth between them, cutting, slashing, nipping, biting. And always when he attacked, they were not there, sliding away from him like ghosts. Had he been able to grasp one, he would have found himself holding nothing but loose folds of skin that swung loosely in his jaws. This worked to the hyenas' advantage, for while the wolf was futily biting excess skin, the hyena would twist around and seize the wolf in its powerful jaws. This was the beginning of the end, for the hyena's jaws were extremely strong, and once they bit down, they seldom let go. While he held on, his companions would rip the victim to shreds before it even realized its desperate plight.

Tam was bleeding from a dozen wounds before Mika succeeded in bullying the roan through the circle of vicious hyenas. "Go, Tam, go!" he hollered, leaning down and lashing his sword at the hyenas.

Tam turned and ran, leaping over the carcass of the grey and the mangled gnolls. Mika skewered one of the hyenas on his sword, then flung it, still yapping, into the midst of its companions.

Another of the hyenas leaped for the soft unprotected swell of the roan's belly, but Mika swung and sliced its head off neatly. Hot blood spurted from the stump of the thick neck, drenching his leg and the roan's side. The two remaining hyenas were momentarily distracted by their fallen comrades, which they tore into with ravenous hunger. Mika kicked the roan harder as they plummeted over the peak, the shrill shrieking of the hyenas loud in his ears, as he caromed down the opposite side of the ridge. The hyenas were left behind, feasting on their own dead and wounded.

Mika gulped as the pale moonlight illuminated the sheer slopes below them, throwing the sharp upthrust boulders, the smooth sliding scree, and abrupt cliffs into contrasts of black and white. Tam, torn and bleeding profusely, teetered on the edge and looked up at Mika with stricken eyes before plunging downward.

The roan quivered beneath Mika as he tried to steer him across a deceptively smooth expanse of gravel that appeared safer than the alternative, a rocky stretch of ground strewn with fist-sized stones. A sudden nameless intuition caused him to drop the reins, allowing the roan his head, allowing him to make his own choices.

The roan swerved at the last moment, avoiding the smooth talus, choosing instead, the rocky ledge above it. As he jumped, the weight of his impact dislodged a small stone which fell onto the gravel below. Instantly, the whole mass started to slide, moving faster and faster, picking up speed and sweeping everything in its path before it as it thundered down the dark slope.

Mika had only a moment to view the catastrophe before the roan leaped again, plunging down the ridge from one tenuous bit of safe footing to the next. Had Mika not given the roan its head, they too would now be at the foot of the slope, buried beneath tons of rock arid gravel.

Mika shuddered and held onto the pommel tightly. Tam raced to keep up with them, blood streaming darkly from a multitude of wounds. Mika could see that Tam was tiring, but there was nothing he could do. Their only hope was to keep going until they reached the bottom.

Because of their great speed and the extreme steepness of the incline, they reached the bottom in a fraction of the time that it had taken them to climb its opposite side.

The bottom was a wide ravine that held a goodly amount of water and was shielded by a dense overhang of spruce trees.

The roan came to a stop on the far bank and stood, all four legs outstretched, braced stiff-kneed, head down, and blew great sobbing breaths, flecked with white foam. His sides heaved with effort, and his body was drenched with sweat.

Mika dismounted and leaned against the exhausted horse, his own legs and thighs quivering with the tension of having gripped the horse so tightly. Together they slowly brought their breathing and their emotions under control. Mika patted the horse and rested his forehead against his neck. He stroked him and murmured softly, "Good horse. You're the best."

Still moving slowly on rubbery legs that scarcely felt capable of supporting him, Mika searched for something to use to rub the horse down. Time was valuable and danger was still near, but the horse would surely founder unless he took the time to cool him down.

But he could find nothing. His cloak was gone, ripped from his shoulders somehow, somewhere. His leather clothing was too hard and too stiff to be of use, and his bedroll was still tied behind the grey's saddle.

Sighing deeply and shrugging philosophically, Mika ripped the princess's silk gown off at the knee. "Excuse me, Your Highness, I need part of your gown to wipe the horse down. You don't mind, do you?" he asked as an afterthought, his hand resting casually on her upturned buttock. She was oblivious, of course.

"There, Tam. You're a witness," Mika said to the wolf curled up on the ground, licking his wounds. "I asked her and she didn't say anything, so I guess it's all right."

The silk made a fine horse-cloth, and Mika stroked and wiped the weary animal clean with handfuls of moss, then dried it thoroughly with the soft silk cloth.

The roan nodded his head up and down, contented and reassured by the gentle rhythmic movements, then rested his head on Mika's shoulder and groaned deeply. Mika was taken aback, used as he was to the ornery nastiness of the grey. Startled, he stroked the velvety smoothness of the roan's muzzle, and he breathed softly in his ear.

Once the roan had cooled off, Mika led him to the stream and allowed him to drink briefly. Then he tied him to a low branch and left him to rest.

He thought about removing the princess from the horse's back, but decided that since she was still under a spell, and evidently not aware of any discomfort, he had best tend to Tam's and his own needs first.

Fortunately, the medicine bag still hung from his shoulder. He was glad that he had decided to keep it on his person. Opening the mouth of the bag, he carefully placed the contents on the edge of the mossy bank and studied them.

There was the book, bound in leather, its thick pages frayed and worn, a small bone pipe, and a dried twist of wolfsbane. There were a number of vials filled with healing potions and unguents, and several horns stoppered with wax plugs that contained medicinal salves. There was his father's ceremonial wolf cloak, a variety of other useful items, and a small sack of the dried meats and vegetables that Hary had given to him.

Mika picked up the antelope horn of healing salve and the sweat-stained silk cloth and turned his attention to Tam.

Tam whined plaintively as Mika examined his wounds. Though none of the wounds were immediately life threatening, Tam's thick pelt was ripped and torn in at least a dozen places from his head to his tail, and a number of the wounds extended deep into the flesh itself. Infection, if not loss of blood, could cause the wolf a slow, lingering death. The wounds had bled freely and that was good, for the dead flesh that gathered in the jaws and teeth of the hyenas was rotting and putrid and could cause disease and death even if the bites healed over.