War-Maker.

24. Ghosts.

Amitz and Kulali came out of the cleft  in the rocks and the black wolf stood beside her, both warriors unaware that there could have been another like them, as tall as an horse and as strong as an ox nearby. They only knew that they were hungry, and the grasses where full of rodents escaping damp, and flooded homes.

I was to nervous to enjoy the antics of my kin as they chased and caught the mighty field mouse, and I was far to nervous to seek food of my own. I kept searching, scanning the surrounding country, so I might see or hear anything that moved. What was there? Who had called? What was the mystery which somehow I knew existed in the ranges of this mountain of the south? Why was the wind so silent, its voices unintelligible to me?

The clouds that still floated in the sky became tinged with pink. Night would come soon. A large flock of sparrows flew high above us, their lovely calls chiming, and from way below there rang another wolf cry.

I was shaking with excitement and frustration, this was not the cry I wished to hear. Yet this howl was thrilling, tinged with danger and sadness and the vastness of distance, the heights and depths of all life, an the immensity of love. Then there came the fainter, sweeter sounds of the howls echos, weaving and bouncing through the rocky tors.

Amitz stood, wondering, should he throw his own answer to the the sky, his call, his voice, and if he did, would the stranger answer? He did not dare, this place was still to blurred in his memories, and he had blurred them out for a reason. So he watched her, watched the sun turn her hair to a shimmering blue, and listened. Obviously that call was not meant for them, and he could not understand Sephtis' quickening heart beat, nor the unease that was rolling of Kulali in thick waves. He turned and looked out over the ancient mountain country. The tors, the rocks, the ridges, the swamp, all seemed to almost fit in a picture that was drawn in his mind. It was not till he went to sleep that night, with Sephtis curled against his side, her head resting above his heart that the picture presented itself, in ice and snow covered rocks, and a whirlwind of snow blowing like a ghost, and gnashing toothy jaws. 

But it was not time for sleeping again, and Amitz saw this country and felt deep down that it was known to him. Perhaps he had come home, but his home was in the north? This land was strange and he felt puzzled. It was also puzzling, that Sephtis seemed so uncertain now that they were here, puzzling how she now did not know which way to go, and it was puzzling how he no longer felt such a huge urge to remain away from this cold, desolate place. As he lay there, staring out into the darkness the wind blew, and tickled his ears with whispers of snow.

The next day they made their way across a wide open plain below what appeared to be a set of rocky tors that clutched at the sky like a curling fist. There were great piles of stone rising out of marsh and grass - a country of rocky tors stretching on and on, up and up, in the south.

In the fading light Kulali, crunching on the bones of a snowshoe hare, gazed at his surroundings and knew that these mountains were of vast significance to both Sephtis and Amitz; perhaps they held a great, unknown meaning to him also, for was he not a driven as Sephtis?

Another night was taking hold of the land, and as the darkness flowed between the granite rocks it whispered of the seekers, of cold and danger. A little willy-willy carried the petals of a white heath bush upwards and around, a small whirlwind of petal and leaves, swaying this way and that. It danced in front of Sephtis and spiraled upwards beside the great black wolf, and all three were, each in turn touched by a ghost, or something still to come, or by a love so strong that neither life nor death could defeat it.

The scent of the heath rose around them, and on the wind came the scent of the mountain-pine needles that the rain must have bruised, so their magic fragrance could spread into the higher mountain range. Kulali had not wanted to move into the crevice when they finally settled for the night, and he did not drop off to sleep straight away like Sephtis or Amitz, and when sleep did come he awoke very soon, restless. He saw that the black wolfs place was empty, and the older wolf was before him, standing in the open anxious to explore this country which was new, yet not new, the country which was like a dream, flowing in both their veins. So he moved quietly to the large warriors side, and they swiftly moved off while Sephtis slept.

They walked across the plain, squelching through cold marsh bogs, brushing past the scented heath. Twice they paused, and Kulali would watch Amitz look back, clearly torn over leaving the girl behind and asleep. The cool breeze from the south continually ruffled through his fur and ears, continually moved ice-cold,over his hide, so he knew that they really walking across the mountains, and he was not in fact, just dreaming, still lying back in the crevice.

At the same time he heard voices singing in the wind, and the soft breaths and footfalls of all the others who had gone before him; yet there was no one but himself and the black wolf.

Stepping with care, alert, every nerve tuned to the slightest sound and movement, the slightest change in atmosphere, the two, a young silver wolf, gleaming in starlight like a spirit, and the other older and dark, cloaked in the shadows of the night like a wraith, yet both were of flesh and blood that could suffer both hurt and joy. Onwards they walked, always southward, losing a little height on their long walk. Something drew them to a place they both almost remembered, almost knew, or would have know had it been white with snow, had ice glittering upon the rocks. Ghosts were in the south wind, touching hide and head, whispering in ears; ghosts walked with them across the plain and downwards into the great rocky tors of Stone Tooth valley.

He could see no one. He felt sure there were watchers, but they must be hidden in the rocky tors. Amitz had left his side a short ways back, turning back in the direction they had come, the black wolfs body had been taunt with urgency as he ran back, yet Kulali walked on. He came to the edge of the plain and walked on round a steep grass siding and upwards to the great rock tor that towered over the others on the cliff edge. Perhaps he had simply imagined the faint shape of a white wolf? If it had been real, it had vanished, backed away through the rocks. He began to lope uphill, trying to catch sight of it.

When he reached those piled high rocks, he found a huge, flat-topped arch and an over-hanging granite rock like a sheltering cave, but there was nothing else except a sigh in the wind. Kulali stood among the granite monoliths, alone except for the wind, and because he was afraid he stood on the tips of his claws, ready to spring away, perhaps from nothing.

There seemed to be naught of which to be afraid - no wolf, no two-legged, no bird; there was only his half-knowledge of this place which was inborn but made him feel uneasy. It was as though he had stood among these rocks many years before. And yet how could he, he who had never left the northern mountains, know this wild place of rock and wind?

There it was, that knowledge like a map, not in his head but in himself, so that his paws knew the swamps and grasses they were treading, his eyes knew the shape of the rocks against the sky, and his ears had heard the wind through these cracks and funnels.

Gradually, as nothing came out of the rocks, and there was no sound, Kulali's muscles relaxed. He walked past the ribbons of grass that led to the piled-up rocks and made his way between the great slabs of granite to the flat-topped arch where he stood beneath the overhang - and there his whole hide pricked with some message which was not understandable. Suddenly a white night owl flew out of the topmost rocks. Kulali stood there, wondering what it was that he should know, but nothing came to him. At last, though he had meant to go further along the tops among the tors, he turned downwards.

A long steep slope of grass and low bushes led him down to the trees. He walked towards the leaning pines, where shadows lurked away from the moon and starlight. The area appeared to be deserted, yet Kulali felt sure that others - or at least one other - were watching.