Far Sighted Ch 5: Wolf

Chapter 5

Wolf

         I struggled with my bonds, trying to loosen their tortuous hold on my wrists and ankles.  The distracted guards failed to hear the shuffling of my escape attempts, but it didn’t matter since the ropes refused to release their hold. 

         I was numb to the burning of the ropes searing their way through sensitive skin.  What was this pain compared to what I had endured every day, for how long I knew not.  I struggled on, refusing to relent in my efforts.

         The warmth of my own blood trickled down my writhing hands, but still desperation pushed me on. 

         The rustle of heavy fabric sent my eyes searching the thick darkness of my prison.  The tent flaps were motionless, the guards outside still restless with superstition.  I swept the empty space and froze when a moving patch, darker than the black of night, circled toward the center of the tent, toward me.

         Familiar glowing white orbs floated in the darkness.

         I sucked in a steadying breath.  A wolf had found its way through the camp and into my tent.  Should I risk calling out to the guards and ending any chance of escape, or hope the thing wasn’t hungry?

         In the end I decided, even if the wolf was hungry, I’d rather face death at its hands than endure another second of torture. 

         I stiffened as the cool wet of the wolf’s nose prodded at my knee, testing my scent.  I probably smelled like a juicy roast duck.

         My breath frozen in my lungs, the wolf circled slowly.  Its tongue lapped at the rivers of blood that had traversed the curves of my hands.  Just get it over with.  I’d rather not have the beast savor his meal.

         A tugging at my wrists signaled the beginning of the feast.  Funny, I thought, I couldn’t feel the razor points of its teeth tear through my flesh.  I must be completely numb to pain by now.

         I slumped forward, resigned to my fate, when gravity carried me the rest of the way to the floor.  Barely containing a laugh of hysteria, I concluded the beast must have chewed my hands off, ironically releasing me from my bonds.  Why hadn’t I thought of that?  It’s not like it hurt all that much.

         My feet, once bound together, now had space separating them.  There go my feet.  Getting eaten alive wasn’t as bad as I would have thought, especially since I could hardly feel a thing.  I only hoped the wolf would finish me off before the guards could “rescue” me.

         The wolf started lapping at my wrists and ankles again, or at least what was left of them.  Can’t you just get on with it?  I can’t be that tasty.

         Unsure of what propelled me to look down at my severed limbs, my eyes, nevertheless, wandered down until they rested on my whole, unbroken arms and legs.  The wolf stood licking the reddened rings around my wrists and ankles I had inflicted on myself.  It finally dawned that the wolf had been gnawing on ropes, not flesh.

         It finished its ministrations and moved to the back of the tent lifting the edge of the fabric.  Pausing, it looked back, as if waiting for me to accompany it.

         Now, sure I was dreaming, I saw no reason not to follow.  Muscles weakened from pain and lack of use left me unable to stand or even raise myself from the ground.

         The wolf returned and licked my face, what I interpreted as its form of encouragement.  I wish I could, but I can’t, I spoke silently to the wolf, unwilling to alert the guards to my current situation.

         Silently slipping beneath the draping fabric of the tent, the wolf disappeared into the night.

         Great, now what?  I never thought I’d wish to have a man-eating wolf back. 

         Time stilled in the silent absence of the wolf.  Had it been minutes or hours?  My question left unanswered, a quiet shuffle at the back of the tent announced the return of the wolf.  Maybe now that it knew it wasn’t getting me out of here it would eat me, and I wouldn’t have to endure another day of torture. 

         I saw the two orbs appear, approaching slowly.  It sniffed at my ear, licking away the tickle it caused. 

         I let my eyes drift closed, as the weakness from constant hunger and pain beckoned my mind toward unconsciousness.  A warm, gentle object caressed my cheek, sending me off into darkness with hope of release.



         Searing pain washed the pleasant nothingness of unconsciousness away.  Torture.  It never ended.  Why couldn’t it end?

         It wasn’t long before I noticed the difference.  The pangs radiated from inside out, not outside in.  My head felt like it would split, familiar, yet unbearable.  This wasn’t the torture of humans.  This could only be another episode.

         “…no choice.  You did what you had to.”  The voice wasn’t one I recognized.

         “Charles, this is your place, not mine.  You were chosen.”  Sir William.

         I could hear my groans and whimpers of pain, the men’s conversation ending abruptly. 

         “Not again.  Not so soon.”  Panic infused Sir William’s voice.

         “She can’t survive another one in the condition she’s in.”  The unfamiliar voice again.  He, too, sounded worried.

         “There has to be a way to stop it.”

         The stranger’s answer was blunt, forced, with no sign of hope.  “She doesn’t have the control to reverse it.  I’m not sure she could reverse it even if she did have it, she‘s too weak.”  A long, tense silence.  “You’re the only one who can help her now.  I-I’ll be outside.”

         “Charles-”

         My scream cut off Sir William’s plea.  My episodes had never been so violent, nor so frequent.  Was something wrong with me?  Was I sick?

         “She needs you William.”  The pain in the stranger’s voice mirrored my torture.

         Feeling was beginning to return to my limbs, or just awareness.  I could feel myself curled into a ball, trembling and writhing.

         “Adanna open your eyes.” 

         Sir William’s gentle command compelled me to obey.  He knelt beside me, my face held between his large, warm hands.  His eyes were haunted, guilt ridden.

         Another wave of pain crashed upon my senses and I squeezed my eyes shut.

         “Adanna, open your eyes.”  The command was firm and I obeyed.  “Listen to me carefully, Adanna.  I’m going to try and walk you through this, but you have to do everything I say.  Do you understand?”

         I managed to weekly nod my head.

         “First, you need to slow your breathing.  Control it.” 

         A tear trickled down my cheek, wondering how I would do this when even the first task was impossible.  It hurt to breath at all, even worse if I tried to breath deeply.  My breath was coming in quick, shallow gasps.

         Sir William shook me gently to regain my attention.  “I know it’s hard, but you have to Adanna.  Breath.  In.  Out.  In.  Out.”  He breathed the rhythm he wanted me to follow.  It hurt, but I managed to synchronize my breathing with his.

         “Good.”

         I could hear the relief in his voice. 

         “Now you need to relax.” 

         Relax?  Was he kidding?  His hands moved from my face to my arms and started a slow, gentle massage. 

         “Relax, just relax.”  The tense, worried tone left his voice, replaced with calm, steady control.

         Though the pain continued, I found my muscles unclenching and yielding to Sir William’s soothing touch.

         “Now concentrate on the pain and eliminate it.”

         How was I supposed to do that?  How does one make pain disappear?  I tried to focus on where the pain was radiating from.  My head, it all started in my head.  Pinpointing the exact spot, I imagined the pain disappearing, dissipating, dissolving. 

         I slowly sat up with Sir William’s help.  It was gone.  I stared at Sir William in surprise.

         He still looked concerned.  “Are you alright?”

         “It’s gone.”  I paused, checking myself to make sure.  I was exhausted, barely able to remain in an upright position, but the pain was no more.

         Breathing a sigh of relief, Sir William sat back and let his head droop, falling into his hands.  I took a quick glance at my surroundings, noticing a warm fire glowing in the darkness of night.  The natural rock walls surrounded us, a cave of small proportions.  Sir William’s voice distracted me from my observations. 

         “Charles, it’s over.”  His voice was soft and didn’t carry far and I was sure the stranger had not heard.

         The soft crunch of a footstep brought my gaze to the cave entrance.  A man, very similar, yet strikingly different than Sir William, entered the cave.  He was of the same height and build, with midnight black hair hanging below his shoulders just slightly darker than Sir William’s dark brown mane.  The stranger, whom Sir William had called Charles, was in poor shape.  His clothes were darkened with mud and dirt, his hair wildly tangled with neglect, and a thick beard blanketing his face.  But all these details escaped me when his piercing, ice-white eyes locked onto me.

         A chill ran down my spine and I knew I’d seen these eyes before.  They were hauntingly familiar, glowing eyes I had dreamt of.

         “It’s over?”  As if his eyes couldn’t discern the truth for himself, he turned to Sir William for confirmation.

         Sir William raised his head.  “Yes, brother, it’s over.”

         Brother?  If my mind hadn’t been so clouded I would have been surprised.  How could we have come upon Sir William’s brother in a place and circumstance such as this?

         “I believe, Miss, that you should rest.  You’ve had a long two weeks.”

         Two weeks?  Had it only been two weeks?  It had felt like two years.

         Charles removed his worn, dusty cloak and laid it over me to protect from the night’s chill.  Readily accepting his suggestion to rest I let my eyelids drift close, sleeping peacefully for the first time in two weeks.

         My dream was filled with the deep, gentle voice of Sir William, and the soft, flowing voice of his brother, Charles.

         “She doesn’t know yet?  Why haven’t you told her?”

         “I only came across her a little over two weeks ago, Charles.  What’s your excuse?  You’ve been watching over her for seventeen years.  Why haven’t you revealed yourself and explained everything?”  Frustration and anger tinted his words.

         “I wanted to wait until she was older.  I never thought she’d be thrust into such a precarious situation.”

         “Okay, okay.  That doesn’t really matter now.  She’ll find out soon enough anyway.  There are more important matters to discuss.”  Why did Sir William sound so guilty?  “It is time you take up your responsibility.”

         “The responsibility is no longer mine, brother.  You know that as well as I.”

         “No!”  Earnest anger covered the guilt.  “You were chosen.  Father chose you, not me.  You are the eldest.”

         “It’s too late William.  The burden has passed to you.”  With a sigh of resignation, Charles closed the conversation.  “It seems fate has interceded in this matter.”

         Sir William wasn’t giving up so easily.  “Fate has nothing to do with it.  You are the eldest.  I cannot take this from you.”  Silence.  “Let her choose.”

         Charles laughed, already resigned.  “The choice has already been made.  I cannot stand up against you, brother.  Not now.  The bond has been forged.”

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