Starling showed to her best advantage in such a company. As soon as we had eaten, she took out her harp, and despite Nik’s frequent cautions to us to speak softly, he did not forbid the soft music and song she gave us. For the smugglers she sang an old ballad about Heft the highwayman, probably the most dashing robber that Buck had ever known. Even Nik was smiling at that song, and Starling’s eyes flirted with him as she sang. To the pilgrims she sang about a winding river road that carried folk home, and finished with a lullaby for the three children in our midst. By then more than just the children were stretched out on bedrolls. Kettle had peremptorily sent me out to fetch hers from the back of her cart. I wondered when I had been promoted from driver to servant, but said nothing as I fetched it for her. I supposed there was something about me that made all elderly folk assume my time was at their disposal.
I unrolled my own blankets next to Kettle’s and lay down to seek sleep. Around me most of the others were already snoring. Kettle curled in her blankets like a squirrel in its nest. I could imagine how much her bones ached with the cold, but there was little I could do for her. Over by the hearth, Starling sat talking to Nik. From time to time, her fingers wandered lightly over her harp strings, their silvery notes a counterpoint to her low voice. Several times she made Nik laugh.
I was almost asleep.
My brother?
My whole body jerked with the shock of it. He was near.
Nighteyes?
Of course! Amusement. Or do you have another brother now?
Never! Only you, my friend. Where are you?
Where am I? Outside. Come to me.
I rose hastily and redonned my cloak. The man guarding the door frowned at me, but asked me no questions. I walked into the darkness, beyond the pulled-up wagons. The snow had ceased and the blowing wind had cleared a patch of starlit sky. Snow silvered the branches of every bush and tree. I was casting about for his presence when a solid weight hit me in the back. I was flung face first in the snow and would have cried out, save that my mouth was full of snow. I managed to roll over and was trampled several times by a joyous wolf.
How did you know where to find me?
How do you know where to scratch when it itches?
I suddenly knew what he meant. I was not always aware of our bond. But to think of him now and to find him was suddenly no more difficult than to bring my two hands together in the dark. Of course I knew where he was. He was a part of me.
You smell like a female. You have taken a new mate?
No. Of course not.
But you share a den?
We travel together, as a pack. It is safer so.
I know.
For a time we sat in stillness of mind and body, simply adjusting to one another’s physical presence again. I felt whole once more. I had peace. I had not known I had worried so much about him until the sight of him put my mind at rest. I sensed his unwilling agreement to that. He knew I had faced hardship and dangers alone. He had not thought I could survive them. But he had also missed me. He had missed my form of thinking, the sorts of ideas and discussions that wolves never shared amongst themselves. Is that why you came back to me? I asked him.
He stood up suddenly and shook himself all over. It was time to come back, he replied evasively. Then he added, I ran with them. They finally allowed me to be part of their pack. We hunted together, we killed together, we shared meat. It was very good.
But?
I wanted to be the leader. He turned and looked at me over his shoulder, his tongue lolling out. I am used to being the leader, you know.
Are you? And they would not accept you?
Black Wolf is very large. And quick. I am stronger than he is, I think, but he knows more tricks. It was much like when you fought Heart of the Pack.
I laughed quietly and he spun on me, lifting his lips in a mock snarl.
“Be easy,” I said quietly, warding him off with open hands. “So. What happened?”
He flung himself down beside me. He is still the leader. He still has the mate and the den. He considered and I sensed him wrestling with the concept of the future. It could be different, another time.
“It could be,” I agreed. I scratched him gently behind the ear and he all but fell over in the snow. “Will you go back to them, someday?”
He was having difficulty focusing on my words while I scratched his ears. I stopped and asked him again. He cocked his head to one side and regarded me with amusement. Ask me on the someday, and I will be able to answer.
One day at a time, I agreed with him. I am glad you are here. But I still don’t understand why you came back to me. You could have stayed with the pack.
His eyes met mine, and even in the darkness they gripped me.
You are called, are you not? Did not your king howl to you, “Come to me”?
I nodded unwillingly. I am called.
He stood suddenly, shook himself all over. He looked off into the night. If you are called, I am called, too. He did not admit it willingly.
You do not have to come with me. This call from my king binds me, not you.
In that, you are wrong. What binds you, binds me.
I do not understand how that could be, I said carefully.
Nor do I. But it is so. “Come to me,” he called to us. And for a time, I could ignore it. But no more.
I am sorry. I groped for a way to express it. He has no right to you. I know that. I do not think he intended to call you. I do not think he intended to bind me. But it happened, and I must go to him.
I stood up and dusted off the snow that was starting to melt on me. I felt ashamed. Verity, a man whom I trusted, had done this to me. That was bad enough. But through me it was imposed on the wolf. Verity had no right to put any demands on Nighteyes. For that matter, I had no right to put any demands on him. What had been between us had always been entered into voluntarily, a mutual giving on both sides with no laying-on of obligations. Now, through me, he was entrapped as surely as if I had caged him.
We share a cage, then.
I wish it were otherwise. I wish there were someway I could free you of this. But I do not even know how to free myself. Not knowing how you are bound, I do not know how to loose you. You and I, we share the Wit. Verity and I share the Skill. How could his Skill-sending have gone through me to seize you? You were not even with me when he summoned me.
Nighteyes sat very still in the snow. The wind had come up, and in the faint starlight I could see it ruffling his coat. I am always with you, brother. You may not always be aware of me, but I am always with you. We are one.
We share many things, I agreed. Uneasiness itched at me.
No. He turned to face me squarely, met my eyes as no wild wolf would have. We do not share. We are one. I am no longer a wolf, you are no longer a man. What we are together, I have no name for. Perhaps the one who spoke to us of the Old Blood would have a word to explain it. He paused. See how much a man I am, that I speak of having a word for an idea? No word is needed. We exist, and we are whatever we are.