Rose Estes - Master Wolf

Mika knew that he needed to clean the wounds thoroughly and then dress them with healing salve or Tam could sicken and die.

First, it was necessary to find shelter, for even though there were no gnolls in sight, it was best to remain hidden.

As their hiding place Mika chose an ancient blue spruce that towered high above him. He crawled under the broad skirt of the tree and found that, as he had hoped, there was ample room beneath its branches. Over the years, the lowest limbs had died and broken off, leaving a comfortable cavern. The fragrant branches draped around him like a living tent.

As he was moving the wolf, who allowed himself to be picked up like a small cub, Mika noted a stout witch hazel bush and remembered that the leaves made a fine cleansing lotion. After he built a small fire next to the base of the trunk, he stripped several handfuls of leaves from the bush, then looked around for something that would function as a container. There was nothing. Nothing at all.

Determined, his gaze fell on his own leather boot, not exactly the best recourse, but one did with what one had. He quickly crushed the leaves between two rocks and dumped the pungent grey-green mess into his boot, then filled it to the ankle with water from the stream, allowing the leather to remain in the stream until it was saturated both inside and out.

When the boot had absorbed as much water as it could, Mika propped it over the fire with a tripod of green sticks. While he waited for the water to heat, he washed the strip of sweat-stained silk in the stream.

The water soon came to a rolling boil, and Mika let it stew until the air was thick with the sharp fragrance of the medicinal leaves before he removed the boot from the fire.

"Well, old boy, this won't do much for my boot. I just hope you don't suffer any ill effects. My brother always said my feet could be used as lethal weapons. Phew! It certainly smells strong enough."

Mika's tone was jovial and confident, but inside, he was aching. Thoughts of Veltran-oba suddenly filled his mind. He remembered their friendly banter with a sense of acute loss and wished that his brother were here with him now.

Tam looked away and growled, licking his lips constantly, nervously, as the sharp aroma filled his nostrils. He looked at Mika out of the corner of his eye and his head moved stiffly, his dewlaps twitching.

"Calm down, boy," Mika said soothingly as he stroked the wolf between his ears and scratched his throat. "You know I wouldn't do anything to up» et you unless it were necessary. \bu have to trust me. We've been together too long for you to start doubting me now."

The words, the tone, or both seemed to soothe the wolf, but Mika wanted to be certain he wouldn't snap in fear or pain. He rummaged about in his supplies and filled the tiny bone pipe with crushed wolfsbane and lit it. Trying not to inhale, he cupped his hand behind the wolfs head and blew the smoke directly into Tam's nostrils. After several puffs, Tam's agitated heartbeat slowed and his pupils dilated. He was as ready as he would ever be.

Dipping the silk cloth in the hot liquid, Mika began swabbing out the wolfs wounds with the hot herbal brew. Soon Tam's pelt was streaming with the fragrant fluid which pooled beneath him on the needle-strewn ground.

Mika worked quickly, packing the clean wounds with the thick healing salves and stitching the jagged edges of skin together in the worst instances, while keeping the wolf calm with his voice.

Tam began to move restlessly, showing signs of recovering from the effects of the wolfsbane. Mika hastily filled the pipe again and, taking a deep pull of the narcotic smoke, blew it into the wolfs nostrils. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to hold the smoke in his mouth and had no sooner exhaled the last of the smoke than he felt the familiar warm lassitude spread throughout his own body. Shrugging mentally, he took another pull on the pipe and blew it more or less in Tam's general direction. Just to make sure the wolf was really out, he loaded the pipe again. However,

Tam seemed to be sleeping, so he was forced to smoke it all himself.

It took him a minute to think of what he was supposed to be doing. Then he remembered. Sighing heavily, he turned the wolf over and began cleaning the wounds on the other side. One of the hyenas had seized Tam's tail in its teeth and in the struggle had pulled the flesh as well as the skin away from the vertebrae for the length of a finger joint. The flesh on either side was already swollen and discolored.

Tam was still sleeping, but Mika felt nauseous looking at the mangled flesh and felt the need to fortify himself. "Only a puff," he murmured as he relit the pipe.

Eyes blinking dreamily, he put down the pipe with exaggerated caution and once more bent to the onerous task.

"Ugh!" he said with a shudder as he rinsed the horrible wound with the cleansing liquid. "Now I know why I didn't want to do this for the rest of my life!" But still, he felt grateful that he had learned the skill, for without it, his friend would surely have died.

At last the awful injury was cleaned and the worst of the mutilated flesh trimmed away with his knife. Mika packed the remainder of the salve around the wound. There was a great deal of flesh still exposed, and Mika knew that it had to be covered or it would attract insects that would lay their eggs in the flesh. Mika sighed and smiled, then wrapped the pink silk cloth round and round the wolfs tail and tied it in a knot. Tam would not be pleased and would do his best to remove it, but with luck it would stay until a scab had formed.

Mika leaned against the rough trunk of the spruce, the branches coming down on all sides of them like a living wall, shutting out the outside world. The small fire had warmed the space, and he was tired and his head still ached. He stared into the fire and blinked. His eyelids drooped, then closed, and he drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Mika wakened slowly. Everything hurt. His head throbbed and his eyelids were thick and swollen. His throat was dry and his stomach was cramped. Every single joint was stiff and sore. And he was cold. He groaned in misery.

Tam added groans and whimpers of his own. Mika sat up and rubbed his head, which was now scabbed over with dry blood. His hands and arms were covered with Tam's blood and his body was rank with old sweat. He could feel a line of blisters beginning to rise under the edges of his tunic at neck and shoulders.

Mika flexed his arms and rolled his head cautiously, feeling the muscles complain at the smallest movement.

Tam lay still, barely lifting his head from the ground. He tried to wag his tail, but even that small effort was too much, and he stopped after one feeble wave.

"By the Great She Wolf, if we feel this terrible after such a little encounter, pray the gods we never have to go into a real battle," muttered Mika.

The roan, hearing Mika's voice, whickered softly.

Mika crawled out from under the overhanging branches and looked around carefully. The day was dark and grey. A dense rain-swollen cloud cover hung over the ridge, obscuring its upper reaches from sight. Mika stared up at the almost vertical drop, frankly astonished that they had descended it safely. No sane person would purposely choose that route unless he had a death wish.

The roan was tossing his head impatiently, and as Mika untied him from the tree limb, he butted him gently in the chest with the flat of his head. Mika shook his own head in quiet amusement.

He had been riding for almost as long as he had been walking and never had he viewed a horse as anything but an uncomfortable but necessary means of transportation. He had known of nomads who had an almost mystical relationship with their horses, but he had never felt such warmth for a horse until now.