The First Wolves

15. A MATRIARCH, A MAP AND A MIRACLE

Waking early to attend training, Fidella tried to escape from Conri’s arms, but his playful growl was too alluring to be ignored. Therefore, it was half an hour after her initial good intentions that the Alpha and Luna joined their pack members for Iselda’s training.

“Your exercise this morning seems even more energetic than what I had planned,” Iselda teased her friends, one who blushed then shoved her away, and the other who laughed unashamedly.

Jenny and Jerrick had joined them, although Jenny was sitting at the side with her pup cheering them on. She had insisted that she would join next week, despite her mate’s protestations. Ewan had a little peek at June, their pup, before standing in the first row. Otto had brought all his family to training that morning, strutting with pride. Adal seemed eager to join in, and Conri was glad because he had the strength to be a great warrior. Holda seemed self-conscious, but determined to learn something, whereas Anna seemed reluctant. A little defence would help everyone, so it was vital that the training sessions were attended. The pups’ training class would run after the adult one.

Winnifred was standing at the back of the row, tension and anger fixed on her face, reminding them of the stern woman she used to be as she wrung out her hands so roughly that her knuckles were a deathly shade of white. She occasionally glanced at Ewan, but stayed as far away from him as possible. Fleetingly, Fidella was sure she had seen a black sharp triangular shape appear from the end of Winnifred’s finger, but with the speed of her frantic hand rubbing it was difficult to be sure. Could it be possible?

Iselda welcomed everyone and then had them stretch, so they would be ready for the sequences they were learning that morning. She also made them plank at the request of Conri, who wanted to test the strength of Adal. It was surprising when he was one of the last three still maintaining his position, his father being one and Fidella being the other. Adal was stronger than Conri had expected, and the alpha was determined to put this to use. It would be great if the strength Adal had gained as a slave could be a positive as a free wolf. That was how all the gladiators in the pack had felt. After the Gamma and Luna had demonstrated the attack and defence moves, the wolves paired up and repeated them, while the ranked members watched and intervened.

Fidella headed straight for Winnifred, who had been left without a partner.

The Luna repeated the moves with her numerous times until Winnifred had mastered them. Noticing that she was more responsive when she was angry or frustrated, Fidella decided to test her theory about what she had seen before.

“How does it feel to know you sacrificed youth, your wolf, and a potential mate for somebody who isn’t even nice to you?” Mimicking the supercilious tone she had heard Antonia use so often, she sent her mocking words to the former matriarch by mind-link, wanting to hide her plan from others.

Judging by Winnifred’s wide eyes and pinched lips, it was clear that Fidella’s observations had caused pain and sorrow. Her plan was working and Fidella smiled at the woman, even though she felt horrible for upsetting her. Winnifred was so affronted by the cruelty from her Luna that she didn’t notice the ache in her fingertips, where ten black, thick claws were stretching out.

“Do you feel guilty that your pack members suffered while you were promoted? Is that why you are hoping that Pepin is dead?” Fidella continued to jab at her insecurities, wondering how much more anger she needed to pull out before she saw Winnifred’s wolf her wolf.

Absentmindedly, Winnifred started to scratch at her arms that were itching like thorns trying to come to the surface. The sounds of blows landing upon skin were becoming as loud as a bass drum, announcing the promise of violence as Winnifred contemplated the accusations that were being splattered at her. Adal noticed this gesture, and pointed it out to his Papa.

“Her wolf is coming through, that’s what your skin feels like when you’re trying to fight your shift,” Otto felt sorry for Winnifred, who had sacrificed so much and was appreciated so little, but knowing that his son and her had this shared experience made him feel even more sympathy.

Winnifred recalled the flies that she would have to swat in the culina of Heaton House to keep them away from the honey pot, a strange thing to think of in these circumstances, but that’s what these unfair denunciations felt like to her. Repeatedly, being smacked like an insignificant fly.

“Matriarch! Some mother figure you were in the House of Heaton, while you hit and yelled at us all. Maybe you can’t reach your wolf, because you don’t deserve her,” Fidella threw her strongest jab at Winnifred’s worst self-doubt, resulting in a tremendous roar from the older she-wolf.

Instantaneously, the training halted as they stared at Winnifred. The snap of her leg as it turned outwards had her kneeling on the floor, while she panted through her pain. Her body broke and reshaped at slow intervals, until the last of her bones reformed in quick succession. By that point, some of the pack had circled around her to show support and encouragement. Conri and Fidella made a point of remembering the members who had left. Although Winnifred could sense the excitement from the pack members that remained, she couldn’t help but feel unworthy of their encouragement. She didn’t think that she deserved a wolf. Her wolf lowered her snout to the ground, reflecting her human’s reproof.

Fidella was staggered by the beauty of Winnifred’s wolf. She had a white chest with charcoal grey fur on the top of her body, it looked incredibly thick and healthy. Her body was substantial, her legs were long and slender. The most distinctive trait of her wolf was that her snout was a little shorter, a little closer to what a dog’s would be. If anything, this uniqueness only made her more beautiful, but sniggers could be heard from the pack members who were nosing from afar. Iselda headed in their direction with stern words on the tip of her tongue.

“Winnifred, I didn’t mean anything that I just said to you. I only wanted to trigger your shift, and I could tell that anger would be the catalyst. You are your own worst judge, nobody here thinks that about you, and anyone who does will be spoken to. All the things I love about Conri are the qualities you instilled in him. I couldn’t be more grateful to you.” Fidella consoled her, pleased to see her wolf look up a little.

Conri could see that Winnie was overwhelmed, and gestured for the pack to disperse. He knelt in front of the woman who had looked after him so diligently when he was a child.

“It’s OK, Winnie. Just talk to your wolf, find out her name, and then Ewan, Fidella and I will join you on your first run,” Conri guided her, and her wolf nodded on her behalf.

“Hello? Are you there? What is your name?” Winnifred cast the words out into the depths of her mind.

“Arwen”, a gentler voice replied. “Are we free now?” Her wolf asked hopefully.

“Almost.” Came Winnifred’s more thoughtful response.

Without having time to adjust, Arwen took control and raced through the woods followed by her Luna, the pup she raised, and the pup she saved.

When the air became cooler, and Arwen had finished exploring all the textures of the forest, Winnifred shifted back, taking the tunic that had been kindly handed to her. She dressed behind the tree, before returning to the group that refused to leave her alone on her first run, even though she hadn’t been very welcoming.

“Will you help us plan the rescue?” Ewan asked hopefully.

She simply shook her head, she was adamant that no wolf could endure the pain of losing half of their soul. Pepin was dead. She had already wasted too much of her life chasing after ghosts now. Ewan turned his head, and walked away in disappointment.

Ideas changed into discussions, which were then transformed into possibilities, and finally evolved into impassioned arguments. Although a plan had been formed, the risks were disproportionate to the potential gain. The ranked members of the pack had decided to take twenty of their best warriors and former gladiators, and have them disguised as slaves. Otto would impersonate a slaver, as they hadn’t seen a poster of his face circulating in the town square. The plan was impinged by the distraction they were trying to execute because it had to be big enough to cause a commotion, grand enough to cease any further productivity, so that the guards would ignore their arrival and concentrate on the slaves resuming their work. It would be very likely that the mine would be protected by a mix of hired guards and soldiers. Since the rescue group would need a map to navigate the tunnels, access to the offices would be imperative. This was the stumbling block in their plan that they continued to trip up on. Apprehensively, Conri saw Fidella, Iselda and Jenny all mind-linking each other. His stomach clenched with the dread of what they might have planned, because so far he managed to convince the she-wolves that they would be superfluous bodies in the plan.

“What if Fidella, Iselda and I all came with you? Otto could offer us to the guards as a payment for their help.” The collective roar, barely halted Jenny as she continued with her explanation, as if she had heard nothing at all. “They will lead us to their barracks where we assume the maps will be. You can subdue the guards left behind who will be at ease because of Otto’s generosity and immorality. We will handle the soldiers once we have the maps,” Jenny explained, although how much of it was listened to over the collective clamour of male complaints she wasn’t sure.

Shouting.

Shock.

Silence.

“Have you lost your mind, Jenny? You’ve just had our pup.” Jerrick yelled at her.

“I know, my sunshine, I was there. You were rescuing Otto’s family, so you have no prerogative to admonish me about risk. You could have died, and never seen our pup,” Jenny returned, calmly.

She was unaffected by her mate’s anger.

Unfortunately, it was this point that had caused the roaring refusals, and opened the channel of objections. Conri hadn’t spoken. He was wrestling with his own inner turmoil, where his head and heart were in a hostile impasse. The possibility of Fidella being in danger as he had been in Vestini rescuing Adal and Anna felt like sandpaper rubbing against his soul, yet she had saved every single wolf in the pack with her wit, kindness, and bravery. There was no doubt that she would enhance the plan with her presence. She was an alpha, but she was also his everything. Without her there was no him. Despite Einar’s protests, Conri knew that to prevent her helping only because she was his mate was offensive to their bond.

“Their distraction will work. I put my trust in Fidella. It was her planning that saved us from the House of Heaton, so I put my absolute faith in the strategy, easily. With our Gamma and Delta, with her they will ensure we have everything that we need.”

He looked at all the wolves gathered in his corner of the temple, but let his gaze linger on Jerrick.

“The mate bond is a gift that leads to partnership. If one mate must seek permission from the other to act upon their conscience, then the gift is wasted on the recipient, who demands that control,” Conri concluded.

Jerrick nodded at his alpha’s words. He didn’t want to force obedience from his mate when she had spent her entire life following orders. Iselda and Fidella were two of the strongest warriors he knew, easily matching the gladiators who had joined the pack. He knew they would protect Jenny, who was a middling fighter. Nodding his head at his own reasoning, he reached out to hold Jenny’s hand, showing his support for her choices.

After an emotional end to the planning meeting, the group decided to form the rest of the plan in the morning. Conri embraced his entire world in his arms, and held on to her waist as he calmed himself in the potent scent from her marked spot.

“How can you put our queen at risk?” Einar growled at him, using a deprecatory tone.

“Queens are meant to lead, Einar. I’ll never be the reason for her holding back her potential. Look at all she has achieved. The house slave that united the gladiators, overthrew servitude, rescued others in the same position, trained to become a skilled warrior, and continues to lead her people. The humans couldn’t suffocate her growth, and I won’t ever try to.” Conri insisted.

Although Einar didn’t like the idea, he couldn’t argue with Conri's logic.

“She is our Goddess too, there is nothing she cannot do.” Einar mused in his head, gaining some peace from his own thoughts.

Ewan stared at the temple ceiling, sleep evading him. He thought of his life with Caius, the snippets of information he had wrestled from Winnifred’s tight-mouthed memories. All his life he had longed to know who his real mother and father were. Caius had always been honest that he wasn’t a blood relative, but that didn’t stop the younger Ewan calling him father. Trying to find answers had made him make many mistakes, realise many regrets, and hurt many people. He was ashamed. If they found his father in the mines, it would make the price he had paid worth it. All they would need was a map and a miracle, so with due diligence he prayed to the moon Goddess that the matriarch was wrong, and that his father was alive.