Read Online Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf by A. E. McCullough - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A. E. McCullough
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her companions and said “I don’t particularly like meat. Do we have anything else?”
“This is the Highlands,” Hawkeye said. “You eat when you find food, drink when you’re near water and rest only where you feel safe. Anything less and you’re dead.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he turned back to the north. “Your choice, eat or don’t eat. Either way we have many miles to cover before highsun.” Glancing back, Hawkeye softened his tone. “I would prefer you to eat something. You will need your strength in the days to come.”
Understanding the meaning in his words, Tatianna took a piece of the dried meat and handed the parcel back to Rjurik. Biting into the meat, she nearly choked on the harsh spices that assaulted her taste buds.
Rjurik grinned. “I forgot ta warn ye lass. The first bite tends ta ‘ave a mighty kick.”
Fighting back the tears, Tatianna forced herself to swallow as she moved to the stream. Kneeling down, she placed her lips in the fast moving water and drank deeply. Looking up, she could tell that the spicy meat had a similar effect on her brothers. Still coughing slightly Tatianna asked, “What…what did you put on that meat?”
“Hrumph! Just a few spices. It’s an ol’ dwarven recipe. It’ll put hair on your chin!”
Tatianna snorted. “As if I want hair on my chin!”
Before Rjurik could say anything more, Hawkeye stepped up. “Time to go. The enemy is on the move. I can feel it.” Looking around at the forest, Hawkeye’s impatience was noticeable to all. He whispered, “Something isn’t right”
Hefting his shield, Rjurik threw his backpack over his right shoulder. “We’re wasting daylight standin’ here a yappin’!”
The three elves exchanged looks of uncertainty before Khlekluëllin shrugged his shoulders and fell in behind the dwarf. The other two followed quietly.
The companions traveled through the morning hours, mostly sticking to small game trails but always heading north and east. Walking in single file with Rjurik in the lead, followed by Khlekluëllin, Tatianna and Mortharona a few paces to the rear. For most of the day, the companions would only get a fleeting glimpse of Hawkeye at areas where the trail would be difficult to discern or when cresting a ridge; sometimes he was hundreds of paces to their rear, obscuring any sign of their passage or several paces ahead to mark the proper trail. Just before highsun, the companions were crossing a ridge when they spied a small ribbon of smoke.
Khlekluëllin asked, “What’s that smoke up ahead?”
“That would be the trading post,” Rjurik said. “It’s run by some of Hawkeye’s people. Decent enough folk; outcasts from their tribes but very friendly.”
“It doesn’t seem like they would be able to make a living out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“It ain’t da middle of nowhere,” Rjurik said as he pointed to the west. “About fifty leagues dat-a-way is me homeland.”
“That’s not…”
“Quiet,” said Hawkeye as he stepped out of the forest and onto the path in front of the companions. “Listen.”
All four companions froze and strained to hear whatever had Hawkeye upset but nothing could be heard even with the enhanced hearing of the elves.
“I don’t hear anything,” hissed Mortharona.
“Me neither,” Tatianna added.
Dropping to one knee, Hawkeye studied the forest around them. “That’s the point.”
Mortharona tossed his hands up. “What is that? Some sort of barbarian joke?”
Laying a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder, Khlekluëllin gestured at the forest around them. “No. Hawkeye is correct. There’s nothing. No sounds at all; no crickets or birds, hardly any sounds from the trees moving in the wind.” He pointed to the ribbon of smoke. “Considering the nature of the trading post below, don’t you think there would be some sort of noise?”
Rjurik tightened the grip on his warhammer. “Now tha’ ya mention it, I don’t
“This is the Highlands,” Hawkeye said. “You eat when you find food, drink when you’re near water and rest only where you feel safe. Anything less and you’re dead.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he turned back to the north. “Your choice, eat or don’t eat. Either way we have many miles to cover before highsun.” Glancing back, Hawkeye softened his tone. “I would prefer you to eat something. You will need your strength in the days to come.”
Understanding the meaning in his words, Tatianna took a piece of the dried meat and handed the parcel back to Rjurik. Biting into the meat, she nearly choked on the harsh spices that assaulted her taste buds.
Rjurik grinned. “I forgot ta warn ye lass. The first bite tends ta ‘ave a mighty kick.”
Fighting back the tears, Tatianna forced herself to swallow as she moved to the stream. Kneeling down, she placed her lips in the fast moving water and drank deeply. Looking up, she could tell that the spicy meat had a similar effect on her brothers. Still coughing slightly Tatianna asked, “What…what did you put on that meat?”
“Hrumph! Just a few spices. It’s an ol’ dwarven recipe. It’ll put hair on your chin!”
Tatianna snorted. “As if I want hair on my chin!”
Before Rjurik could say anything more, Hawkeye stepped up. “Time to go. The enemy is on the move. I can feel it.” Looking around at the forest, Hawkeye’s impatience was noticeable to all. He whispered, “Something isn’t right”
Hefting his shield, Rjurik threw his backpack over his right shoulder. “We’re wasting daylight standin’ here a yappin’!”
The three elves exchanged looks of uncertainty before Khlekluëllin shrugged his shoulders and fell in behind the dwarf. The other two followed quietly.
The companions traveled through the morning hours, mostly sticking to small game trails but always heading north and east. Walking in single file with Rjurik in the lead, followed by Khlekluëllin, Tatianna and Mortharona a few paces to the rear. For most of the day, the companions would only get a fleeting glimpse of Hawkeye at areas where the trail would be difficult to discern or when cresting a ridge; sometimes he was hundreds of paces to their rear, obscuring any sign of their passage or several paces ahead to mark the proper trail. Just before highsun, the companions were crossing a ridge when they spied a small ribbon of smoke.
Khlekluëllin asked, “What’s that smoke up ahead?”
“That would be the trading post,” Rjurik said. “It’s run by some of Hawkeye’s people. Decent enough folk; outcasts from their tribes but very friendly.”
“It doesn’t seem like they would be able to make a living out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“It ain’t da middle of nowhere,” Rjurik said as he pointed to the west. “About fifty leagues dat-a-way is me homeland.”
“That’s not…”
“Quiet,” said Hawkeye as he stepped out of the forest and onto the path in front of the companions. “Listen.”
All four companions froze and strained to hear whatever had Hawkeye upset but nothing could be heard even with the enhanced hearing of the elves.
“I don’t hear anything,” hissed Mortharona.
“Me neither,” Tatianna added.
Dropping to one knee, Hawkeye studied the forest around them. “That’s the point.”
Mortharona tossed his hands up. “What is that? Some sort of barbarian joke?”
Laying a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder, Khlekluëllin gestured at the forest around them. “No. Hawkeye is correct. There’s nothing. No sounds at all; no crickets or birds, hardly any sounds from the trees moving in the wind.” He pointed to the ribbon of smoke. “Considering the nature of the trading post below, don’t you think there would be some sort of noise?”
Rjurik tightened the grip on his warhammer. “Now tha’ ya mention it, I don’t
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