Chapter 10: Confrontation

Peri awoke in a bed of dry leaves, feeling the chill of late October in the air. He heard a chuffing of air near him and opened his eyes to see a dire wolf hovering over him. Around them stood the pack.

The wolf drew back his maw to bare his fangs and growled.

“Br’er Wolf. Greetings to you and you pack,” Peri said.

The wolf sat back on his haunches.

“You speak!”

“Yes. Has no one spoken to you before?”

“We understand enough of the talk of men to know they are our enemies,” said Ma Wolf, approaching her mate.

“I am not an enemy of any creature,” Peri insisted. “Yet I would put an end to the violence of this land if I can.”

“Men stole our pups,” Br’er Wolf said. “They teach them to be dogs.”

“That must be very hard on you. I will try to free your pups.”

“They must die,” Ma Wolf said. “They would always be contaminated by the man smell. They eat scraps of meat from beneath his table. They are even given the man drink to make them docile.”

By this, Peri understood the pups were eating cooked meat and drinking beer, much the way the men and their dogs ate. He could feel the shiver of hatred down all the wolves’ backs as their hackles stood on end. It seemed a shame that the pups should be killed, but he didn’t interfere in the natural ways of the animals he met.

“How do you happen to be so far from your hunting grounds?” Peri asked.

“We followed the man who stole our pups. He came to the mountain forest and trapped them when they were weanlings,” Ma Wolf said. She was drooling from her maw with the thought of ripping Peri’s throat out.

“The men and their dogs are a danger to all the creatures of Tumwater and the surrounds. They hunt the cats and kill anything they catch. They do not kill for food, for as you said, they eat the meat from under the men’s table. I have come to stop the conflict if I can,” Peri said. “I will talk to the dogs and convince them to abandon their masters.”

“We will kill the pups—and whatever dogs may escape the men.”

“I urge your restraint on any dog I can convince to abandon his violent master,” Peri said. “Otherwise, I understand your laws and will not interfere with them.”

“And what do you want from us for doing this thing?” asked Br’er Wolf.

“I ask only that you do not harm any cats, for they are endangered here. When we have freed the pups, return to your hunting grounds in peace and may you have a warm and secure winter,” Peri said.

“The cold is in the mountains. Our coats are filling out. If we do not return soon, our winter fur will shed,” Br’er Wolf said. “We will abide by this rule. “Free the pups so that no dire wolf remains in the hands of men, and we will be gone.”

“Thank you. I must stalk my prey,” Peri said. “I must know whence he comes and what his ways are so that I can turn his dogs away from him.”

“Go, Br’er Talker. We will wait and watch.”

“Thank you, Br’er Wolf. To you and your pack.”

Peri rose and backed away from the wolves respectfully. He did not attempt to touch or pet any of them. These were not house dogs. These were killers—fast, strong, killing machines. He found his way to the village tavern where men seemed to be rising for breakfast. The barmaid spotted him and recognized him, though it had been long since his last visit.

“Br’er Peregrine,” she called to him. “Wash the mugs and plates as they come in and bring in another cask of new beer from the shed,” she ordered.

Peregrine was used to people giving him tasks, even before he said hello. He knew he would be paid in food and a place to sleep. More importantly, he would be able to quietly observe the men and their dogs, lying beneath the tables. Peri quickly spotted the three dire wolf pups, lying beneath one table. They had ropes around their necks and muzzles over their mouths that barely allowed them to gulp at the meat scraps their mountainous master dropped on the floor. He could not help but notice none of the three had as shiny and well-kept a coat as their elders in the pack.

“I’ve had enough,” said one of the men. “I say we assault the mansion and haul out whatever is there.”

“Have you never tried to find a way in?” said another. “There is no gate. The walls, for all they appear low, are slippery and impossible to climb. Ask old Tory about getting inside.”

A man Peri estimated was not much older than him stood in a corner and all eyes turned to him. He had just one eye and his hands were misshapen. He limped over to the fire.

“It ain’t just cats in that garden,” he began. “I was young and strong and determined to get the key to the maiden. I’d discovered there was no way to scale the wall, for I had tried every inch of it. So, I cut me a long pole from an oak sapling, straight and true. I practiced out in the barn until I knew I could vault o’er the wall and not even touch it.”

“Clever! We could do that,” said a couple of men.

“Nay. You shan’t. I vaulted the wall and landed on my feet in the witch’s garden. Oh, let me tell you, she doesn’t come to town any longer to trade her vegetables and fruit, but her garden is lush and green all the year round. My mouth watered with the very sight of it.”

“Did you eat?”

“I never got the chance. Out of no place a cat appeared.”

“The cat! The one with the key?” shouted the men.

“This cat was like no other I’d ever seen. Solid black and as big as a man. It had wings and the head of an eagle with a sharp beak, and instead of claws, it had talons! It growled and I turned tail to run. But the wall is as slippery on the inside as on the outside and I had no pole to help me out. The monster caught me as I was against the wall and swatted me with its big claws so that I sprawled on the ground. It towered over me as I cowered there.”