A Cliff-top Duel
IV
Lessons of Strength
(Shard III)
(Shard III)
As she began to unpack the thoughts in her head and feel the tears running down her cheeks once more, she was pulled away from her sorrow by a strange sound. She stopped and lifted her head for a moment and perked up her ears. Immediately another muffled and barely audible noise came from the kennel around her. The noise sounded like a single breath or the quiet mewling of some animal.
Ghelta looked ahead and saw Skartha’s tail move slightly and one of her legs begin to quiver. Joy and confusion shot through her mind like lightning bolts as she looked over at Skartha’s face. She didn’t know how, but maybe Olthenna had forgotten to take her soul away. Maybe Skartha was still alive.
She grabbed the wolf’s face and ran her fingers over her ear. She pressed her head against the wolf’s chest but couldn’t hear anything. The body was cold and lifeless, but as she looked back to the wolf’s flank she could see another quiver of life. A moment more and another quiet sound bubbled up from the body.
Ghelta pulled away and looked at the wolf’s rump, lifting up the tail and then the leg. She watched carefully as she could see something dark pressing it’s way out of Skartha’s nether regions. One more mewling bubbled up and Ghelta jumped. She could see the lump squirming around trying to make its way free from the body. Ghelta pressed on the wolf’s abdomen and began to massage the lump free.
After some squeezing and fury, the little mass popped free and began to roll down a pile of straw to Ghelta’s foot. She watched in amazement as the little thing wobbled for a moment and then raised its tiny little head. She let curses and expletives of amazement roll of her tongue as she carefully lifted up the little body in her hands.
One more mewling breath came from the pup as she lifted it up to examine it. She could see the blood-covered, blind eyes on its face as sit moved its neck back and forth. Tiny little paws stretched out and grasped at her fingers. She knew it was alive and it was responding to her touch. Tears overflowed once more as she cupped the little creature between her hands. Her eyes darted from it to the corners of the room, searching for something that she couldn’t find.
“You stay right here and I’ll find you a blanket or something.” She knew that newborn pups were blind and deaf, but she was so happy that it was alive that she didn’t care. She laid the pup down near the foot of Skartha and got up to her feet. She looked down at the pup and then around the kennel once more. “Where in Gehemol did I put that blanket?”
Ghelta reached into the straw in the corners of the kennel to search for the blanket she sought. Wherever she checked, there was nothing to be found. She began to grow frantic and tempestuous, taking some frustration out by kicking the gate nearby. She knew she had laid some blankets in here before she ran to fetch Ylethus. There was no way that they could have vanished in such a short period of time.
She looked up to the sky above and clenched her fists in rage. She gave one more temperamental kick to the kennel wall nearby where she stood and then heard the sound of cloth falling into the straw near her feet. She looked over at it and saw a blanket had fallen down. She looked up and noticed two other blankets that she had draped over the kennel wall. Immediately she felt warmth fill her cheeks and a rush of calm spread through her body.
“I’m a bloody idiot, aren’t I?” She snatched up the blanket and walked back across the kennel to the body of Skartha. She sat back down in the blood pool and draped the blanket over her arm. She looked to where she had dropped the pup, but the little wolf was no longer there.
She rummaged in the straw nearby but couldn’t find the pup. She leaned back and then heard a tiny sucking sound coming from Skartha’s body. She looked over and saw the pup nuzzling up to the dead wolf’s utter and suckling upon the nearest teat.
“Oh shit.” Ghelta watched as the pup hungrily pawed and nuzzled at the Skartha’s body while suckling. The realization tore through her mind that beyond what cold and dead nourishment her old companion had in her corpse, there was no milk that the pup would need. Her mind began to wheel and churn with ideas as she continued to watch the pup drink what was left.
With a click, she realized that she could get some milk from the brodenskappf. She loathed the thought of having to return to that place, but it was nearby and they would have some sort of nourishment for the pup. She knew from her childhood that the Broden-mother and several of the Broden-nurses would squeeze some of their extra productions and keep it in cold canisters for some of the infants. The thought of women milking themselves and collecting it made Ghelta wince, but it was the only place she knew of that would have what this pup needed.
Ghelta looked at Skartha’s face once more and then leaned in over the pup to press her hands upon the dead wolf’s utter. She shook her head at the thought but steeled her nerves knowing what she must do to keep this fragile, little life going. She lowered her face to one of Skartha’s teats and began to suckle on it while massaging the utter. Her mouth soon filled up with cold milk. She wanted to spit it out, but she kept going and using her tongue and throat to keep the milk in her mouth.
Once she had enough, she choked for a moment but managed to keep it all in her mouth. She pulled away, looking once more at Skartha’s face and then got to her feet. She didn’t want to have to pull the poor pup away, but she couldn’t leave it here while she went to retrieve the milk from the brodenskappf.
She leaned in to the pup and lifted her pinky finger over the pup’s nose. She pressed her face to her palm and let a bit of the milk in her mouth dribble over her lip and down her hand to her finger. She nuzzled the pup once and the pup pulled away from Skartha’s teat to suckle on her finger. After this, she snatched the little creature up in her hands and wrapped it in a blanket with her free hand.
She was able to rub some of the blood and grime away from the pup and then roll it up in the blanket. She kept her finger in the pup’s mouth, feeling tiny lips tugging at her flesh. She placed the rolled up wolf down the front of her shirt between her breasts. She worried it might slip, so with her free hand she unbuckled the lower belt from her scabbard — that secured it to her leg — and re-buckled it around her chest.
With a shake of her body as she hopped from heel-to-toe, she could see that the pup was secure in its little nest against her body. She continued to dribble small amounts of milk from her mouth, letting it gather in drops around her pinky to feed the hungry wolf. She gave a long sigh of relief and left the kennel.
It only took several minutes for her to walk to the brodenskappf and with some luck, she arrived long after the children and their care-givers had gone to sleep. The collection of lodges was eerily quiet and devoid of any light from within.
It had been years since Ghelta had been back to the brodenskappf. Ylethus had made sure to keep her as far away from it as possible after her incident with the chieftain’s son. She had walked by it several times in recent years, usually while performing an errand, and had always seen it bustling with activity. The same Broden-mother and Skaell-father watched over the children, despite their advancing years, while many younger broden-nurses had come in to help in whatever way they could.
Ghelta watched her footsteps as she made her way into the center of the area and made sure her pinky was still firmly in the lips of her pup so that it wouldn’t make any more mewling noises. She looked to the smoldering remains of a rock-ringed bonfire a dozen yards from the main dwellings for the children. Judging by the smoke and fading embers, all the members of the broden had retired hours ago to be lost in whatever dreams Sethos had in store for them. She just hoped that Skaell-father Jhulmin snored as deeply as he did when she stayed there so that she might not wake him up.
She crossed the yard and made her way to a crack in the ground that was covered over with aged and withered wood. As her feet lightly padded over the dusty rock, she looked up from her steps to see the same familiar boulder ahead of her. It was the same perch she had sat on for most of her time in the broden as she watched the bustling activity of Alsira Thaenat below. The stone seemed far smaller than she remembered it in her youth and now that she took one more look around the area, she realized the whole area was smaller than she remembered.
The fragility of her memories began to gnaw at the back of her mind and the emotions that welled up inside of her heart made her feel sick to her stomach. She shook the thoughts from her head and refocused her intention on the wooden trapdoor next to her feet. She crouched down and slowly wiped the sand from atop it until she could shove her fingers into a small hole in the wood and pop the door open.
With the trapdoor opened up, Ghelta gave one last look around the area to make sure no interlopers were present and then lowered herself backward down a small ladder. One of her hands raised to protect the head of the pup strapped to her chest while the other let her balance as she took several steps down into the dark. This was the storage area that Jhulmin had always kept well-stocked for every possible event.
This underground space was almost pitch black and Ghelta could feel the tugging of spider’s webs upon her hair. She knew that Jhulmin kept down here some extra bottles and hand-made nipples for several of the children that refused to be breastfed by the broden-mother or one of the nurses. Trying to find them in the dark, or more likely not break something while she was down here, seemed an insurmountable task. She dare not light a candle to guide her way, lest someone notice it from above.
Ghelta held onto the little pup at her chest with one of her hands, feeling her fingers grip around the little bundle of towels and fur. She closed her eyes and began to focus on her breathing. She could feel the pup’s heartbeat and her own as both seemed to slow and match in speed.
She didn’t want to draw upon some of the tricks she had learned since the incident at the broden when she was younger, but she had to draw upon one of those tricks in this moment. Ylethus had caught her several times and each time he had screamed at her with anger and fear. He made her promise to never do such, “dark magickal shit,” ever again. He always dragged her to go see Grandmaster Toulam who would examine her from head to toe and then perform strange rituals over her. Each time the old man did so, Ghelta found it harder and harder to do the little tricks that she had learned.
One such trick was something she called, ‘the Eyes of the Wolf,’ and she was focusing her energy to do so at this moment. Every time she used one of these powers, she felt a darkness slip inside of her and it frightened her to her core. She felt the pup continue to suckle at her finger, and her other hand holding the little creature firmly. She hoped that the joy and determination she felt towards this little life might keep the darkness at bay, while she drew upon her powers to help it survive.
As Ghelta continued to monitor her breathing, she could feel the tendrils of shadow come out from the darkness around her and caress her flesh. Several of the tendrils burrowed deeply into her and caused the tiny hairs on her arms to stand on end. She could feel the heartbeat of the pup start to race as its instincts flared to life. She tried to fight the darkness by reaching out to the pup’s energy and allowing it to suffuse her own. A battle of wills tore through her center until finally a crackling feeling from deep within allowed her to realize she had won.
Ghelta looked ahead and saw Skartha’s tail move slightly and one of her legs begin to quiver. Joy and confusion shot through her mind like lightning bolts as she looked over at Skartha’s face. She didn’t know how, but maybe Olthenna had forgotten to take her soul away. Maybe Skartha was still alive.
She grabbed the wolf’s face and ran her fingers over her ear. She pressed her head against the wolf’s chest but couldn’t hear anything. The body was cold and lifeless, but as she looked back to the wolf’s flank she could see another quiver of life. A moment more and another quiet sound bubbled up from the body.
Ghelta pulled away and looked at the wolf’s rump, lifting up the tail and then the leg. She watched carefully as she could see something dark pressing it’s way out of Skartha’s nether regions. One more mewling bubbled up and Ghelta jumped. She could see the lump squirming around trying to make its way free from the body. Ghelta pressed on the wolf’s abdomen and began to massage the lump free.
After some squeezing and fury, the little mass popped free and began to roll down a pile of straw to Ghelta’s foot. She watched in amazement as the little thing wobbled for a moment and then raised its tiny little head. She let curses and expletives of amazement roll of her tongue as she carefully lifted up the little body in her hands.
One more mewling breath came from the pup as she lifted it up to examine it. She could see the blood-covered, blind eyes on its face as sit moved its neck back and forth. Tiny little paws stretched out and grasped at her fingers. She knew it was alive and it was responding to her touch. Tears overflowed once more as she cupped the little creature between her hands. Her eyes darted from it to the corners of the room, searching for something that she couldn’t find.
“You stay right here and I’ll find you a blanket or something.” She knew that newborn pups were blind and deaf, but she was so happy that it was alive that she didn’t care. She laid the pup down near the foot of Skartha and got up to her feet. She looked down at the pup and then around the kennel once more. “Where in Gehemol did I put that blanket?”
Ghelta reached into the straw in the corners of the kennel to search for the blanket she sought. Wherever she checked, there was nothing to be found. She began to grow frantic and tempestuous, taking some frustration out by kicking the gate nearby. She knew she had laid some blankets in here before she ran to fetch Ylethus. There was no way that they could have vanished in such a short period of time.
She looked up to the sky above and clenched her fists in rage. She gave one more temperamental kick to the kennel wall nearby where she stood and then heard the sound of cloth falling into the straw near her feet. She looked over at it and saw a blanket had fallen down. She looked up and noticed two other blankets that she had draped over the kennel wall. Immediately she felt warmth fill her cheeks and a rush of calm spread through her body.
“I’m a bloody idiot, aren’t I?” She snatched up the blanket and walked back across the kennel to the body of Skartha. She sat back down in the blood pool and draped the blanket over her arm. She looked to where she had dropped the pup, but the little wolf was no longer there.
She rummaged in the straw nearby but couldn’t find the pup. She leaned back and then heard a tiny sucking sound coming from Skartha’s body. She looked over and saw the pup nuzzling up to the dead wolf’s utter and suckling upon the nearest teat.
“Oh shit.” Ghelta watched as the pup hungrily pawed and nuzzled at the Skartha’s body while suckling. The realization tore through her mind that beyond what cold and dead nourishment her old companion had in her corpse, there was no milk that the pup would need. Her mind began to wheel and churn with ideas as she continued to watch the pup drink what was left.
With a click, she realized that she could get some milk from the brodenskappf. She loathed the thought of having to return to that place, but it was nearby and they would have some sort of nourishment for the pup. She knew from her childhood that the Broden-mother and several of the Broden-nurses would squeeze some of their extra productions and keep it in cold canisters for some of the infants. The thought of women milking themselves and collecting it made Ghelta wince, but it was the only place she knew of that would have what this pup needed.
Ghelta looked at Skartha’s face once more and then leaned in over the pup to press her hands upon the dead wolf’s utter. She shook her head at the thought but steeled her nerves knowing what she must do to keep this fragile, little life going. She lowered her face to one of Skartha’s teats and began to suckle on it while massaging the utter. Her mouth soon filled up with cold milk. She wanted to spit it out, but she kept going and using her tongue and throat to keep the milk in her mouth.
Once she had enough, she choked for a moment but managed to keep it all in her mouth. She pulled away, looking once more at Skartha’s face and then got to her feet. She didn’t want to have to pull the poor pup away, but she couldn’t leave it here while she went to retrieve the milk from the brodenskappf.
She leaned in to the pup and lifted her pinky finger over the pup’s nose. She pressed her face to her palm and let a bit of the milk in her mouth dribble over her lip and down her hand to her finger. She nuzzled the pup once and the pup pulled away from Skartha’s teat to suckle on her finger. After this, she snatched the little creature up in her hands and wrapped it in a blanket with her free hand.
She was able to rub some of the blood and grime away from the pup and then roll it up in the blanket. She kept her finger in the pup’s mouth, feeling tiny lips tugging at her flesh. She placed the rolled up wolf down the front of her shirt between her breasts. She worried it might slip, so with her free hand she unbuckled the lower belt from her scabbard — that secured it to her leg — and re-buckled it around her chest.
With a shake of her body as she hopped from heel-to-toe, she could see that the pup was secure in its little nest against her body. She continued to dribble small amounts of milk from her mouth, letting it gather in drops around her pinky to feed the hungry wolf. She gave a long sigh of relief and left the kennel.
It only took several minutes for her to walk to the brodenskappf and with some luck, she arrived long after the children and their care-givers had gone to sleep. The collection of lodges was eerily quiet and devoid of any light from within.
It had been years since Ghelta had been back to the brodenskappf. Ylethus had made sure to keep her as far away from it as possible after her incident with the chieftain’s son. She had walked by it several times in recent years, usually while performing an errand, and had always seen it bustling with activity. The same Broden-mother and Skaell-father watched over the children, despite their advancing years, while many younger broden-nurses had come in to help in whatever way they could.
Ghelta watched her footsteps as she made her way into the center of the area and made sure her pinky was still firmly in the lips of her pup so that it wouldn’t make any more mewling noises. She looked to the smoldering remains of a rock-ringed bonfire a dozen yards from the main dwellings for the children. Judging by the smoke and fading embers, all the members of the broden had retired hours ago to be lost in whatever dreams Sethos had in store for them. She just hoped that Skaell-father Jhulmin snored as deeply as he did when she stayed there so that she might not wake him up.
She crossed the yard and made her way to a crack in the ground that was covered over with aged and withered wood. As her feet lightly padded over the dusty rock, she looked up from her steps to see the same familiar boulder ahead of her. It was the same perch she had sat on for most of her time in the broden as she watched the bustling activity of Alsira Thaenat below. The stone seemed far smaller than she remembered it in her youth and now that she took one more look around the area, she realized the whole area was smaller than she remembered.
The fragility of her memories began to gnaw at the back of her mind and the emotions that welled up inside of her heart made her feel sick to her stomach. She shook the thoughts from her head and refocused her intention on the wooden trapdoor next to her feet. She crouched down and slowly wiped the sand from atop it until she could shove her fingers into a small hole in the wood and pop the door open.
With the trapdoor opened up, Ghelta gave one last look around the area to make sure no interlopers were present and then lowered herself backward down a small ladder. One of her hands raised to protect the head of the pup strapped to her chest while the other let her balance as she took several steps down into the dark. This was the storage area that Jhulmin had always kept well-stocked for every possible event.
This underground space was almost pitch black and Ghelta could feel the tugging of spider’s webs upon her hair. She knew that Jhulmin kept down here some extra bottles and hand-made nipples for several of the children that refused to be breastfed by the broden-mother or one of the nurses. Trying to find them in the dark, or more likely not break something while she was down here, seemed an insurmountable task. She dare not light a candle to guide her way, lest someone notice it from above.
Ghelta held onto the little pup at her chest with one of her hands, feeling her fingers grip around the little bundle of towels and fur. She closed her eyes and began to focus on her breathing. She could feel the pup’s heartbeat and her own as both seemed to slow and match in speed.
She didn’t want to draw upon some of the tricks she had learned since the incident at the broden when she was younger, but she had to draw upon one of those tricks in this moment. Ylethus had caught her several times and each time he had screamed at her with anger and fear. He made her promise to never do such, “dark magickal shit,” ever again. He always dragged her to go see Grandmaster Toulam who would examine her from head to toe and then perform strange rituals over her. Each time the old man did so, Ghelta found it harder and harder to do the little tricks that she had learned.
One such trick was something she called, ‘the Eyes of the Wolf,’ and she was focusing her energy to do so at this moment. Every time she used one of these powers, she felt a darkness slip inside of her and it frightened her to her core. She felt the pup continue to suckle at her finger, and her other hand holding the little creature firmly. She hoped that the joy and determination she felt towards this little life might keep the darkness at bay, while she drew upon her powers to help it survive.
As Ghelta continued to monitor her breathing, she could feel the tendrils of shadow come out from the darkness around her and caress her flesh. Several of the tendrils burrowed deeply into her and caused the tiny hairs on her arms to stand on end. She could feel the heartbeat of the pup start to race as its instincts flared to life. She tried to fight the darkness by reaching out to the pup’s energy and allowing it to suffuse her own. A battle of wills tore through her center until finally a crackling feeling from deep within allowed her to realize she had won.
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