The First Wolves

26. WHAT WE DESERVE

Winnifred had begrudgingly allowed Iselda to clean and wrap her blistered hand before preparing a small meal for the pack. Given that some of the more luxurious items had been spoilt or burnt in their last camp, she knew the food would be filling, but flavourless. In an attempt to have something positive happen, and improve the mood of the pack, she taught Bruno and the other pups how to milk the cows. The children would occasionally run in with another brimming milk pail and overflowing smiles. While she measured out the lentils with precision, she recalled having to cook similar meals for the gladiators after Cornelius died. Even though three decades had passed, she recalled all the faces of the wolves she had fed. Before she became the matriarch, they would thank her for her efforts, and smile at her when she served them. In the years after, they were silent. Even though they were eating better because of the decisions she had made, her efforts weren’t appreciated. Many of the gladiators perished in the arena. It was hardly surprising when the trainer after Aoife was so indifferent to his responsibilities. Some were sold if Magnus needed extra money, contrary to his father’s ethos of a home for life. A few of the gladiators died in her arms from their injuries. They would always say thank-you at the end.

Another laughing child carried in a pail of milk, and Winnifred compartmentalised the memories that were best locked in the pantry of her mind. In all her years as the matriarch, it had only been those four walls hidden in that lonely kitchen that had watched her cry until there was nothing left of her.

“I’m going to get some more water from the stream for the broth, I’ll be back in a moment.” She called out to the laughing pups.

The pot was easy to carry down to the water, but bringing it back was a different story. Her burnt hand was still too sensitive to grip the handle, and stoicism could only take her so far. Pepin had seen her struggling. Exasperated by her stubbornness, he went to help, but before he could offer her assistance, he noticed some of the younger women approaching her. Disrespectfully, they made no attempt to reach for the pot and help her. His Beta instincts warned him that something cruel was about to happen. The women’s faces were scowling with disgust and judgement, it was clear that some harsh words were being thrown at Winnie, but she didn’t retaliate. Three strides before he reached them, the she-wolf in the centre, Lydia, he thought her name was, reached down to the base of the pot she was carrying, and tipped it up towards his dearest friend. Winnie’s stola was soaked, and the churned up mud from the ground splattered over her sandals and clothes. Pepin’s anger roared out of him at the treatment given to the woman he had sworn to protect like a sister.

“That’s only a fragment of what you deserve, matriarch.” The same she-wolf snarled at her before leaving with her group of followers.

Unconsciously, Pepin hugged Winnie tightly, who was obviously upset and embarrassed by what had happened, but she made no sound of protest or annoyance. She completely accepted the treatment she had received. When he broke his embrace to look at her, she simply picked up the pot from the ground and turned back towards the stream.

“What was that about?” Pepin asked her, refusing to copy her approach of pretending nothing had happened.

“You heard them. It’s the least I deserve.” She replied, in a matter of fact tone.

Distraction was the best way to ignore pain. She had learnt this lesson well in her life. Accepting that her clothes were already soaked, she waded into the stream refilling the pot and enjoying the running water over her feet, while she removed the worst of the mud. She then immediately felt guilty for taking a moment of peace to herself. People like her shouldn’t know a moment of joy. That was her punishment. When she stepped back to the edge of the bank, Pepin reached over and took the pot from her, then guided her out.

“Why do you think you deserve to be treated like that, Winnie?” Pepin asked her calmly, but in a manner that demanded a response.

“She’s from Heaton House,” Winnie stated, as if that was the only explanation needed.

Pepin stared at her, unwilling to only be given the snippets of vague reasons why she felt like she deserved such cruelty.

“When she arrived at the house she came with her slightly older sister called Livia, and they were both put to work in the culina. Lydia was more spirited than her sister and would argue a lot, despite her sister urging her to mind her tongue. The things she was saying were dangerous, and I had to punish her because she was overheard often. She didn’t realise that there was no such thing as privacy, and the guards would report her to the Heatons every time she opened her mouth. She always assumed I was picking on her because I was loyal to the masters, but I did it to keep her alive. A year after their arrival, Magnus demanded that he wanted Lydia to be sold to a pleasure house. He needed the money, and he was tired of her defiance. That night, I went to Livia and told her of the master’s demands. She begged me to let her take the place of her sister. Lydia was so headstrong we feared her mouth would lead her to her death. Returning to Magnus, I told him that Lydia wasn’t as beautiful as her older sister, and that if we got rid of her last family member, Lydia would soon lose her fighting spirit.” Winnie paused, her eyes stuck in the past.

“So you and Livia agreed to let her take her sister’s place?” Pepin encouraged her to continue.

“Yes, I took Livia to the Open Purse, it was the place that had given us advice about Ewan’s birth. I thought she would be safe there. While we walked the streets, I told Livia I would try to convince Magnus to buy her back at a later date. We only had Iselda as a pleasure slave in the house, and I knew he would need more someday. She didn’t say anything, she only gave me a soft smile. I took the money for her, but before we parted ways she made me promise not to tell Lydia that she had taken her place. She didn’t want her younger sister to carry that guilt. I never told Lydia, she assumed I had sold her because I was spiteful, and I let her think that. After months of hard work, I had managed to convince Magnus that we needed another pleasure slave in the house and that we should buy Livia back, and he agreed that it was a good idea. When I returned to the Open Purse, she had been bought, and taken to the capital. I was too late.”

Pepin rested his hands on her hands.

“That’s not your fault, Winnie.” He tried to console her.

“Even worse, the idea had been planted in Magnus’ head that we desperately needed a second pleasure slave. That was the day he punished Luna Fidella by making her the property of men who visited the house. Luckily, Conri and Fidella saved each other from that fate, but it was me who planted the seed. You see, Pepin, my transgressions are many, and I deserve much worse than wet clothes and harsh words.”

Irately shaking his head in disagreement, Pepin grabbed her upper arm, causing her to stop and listen to him.

“If you hadn’t arranged for her sister’s sale, Magnus would have waited for Leighton. That slaver at best would have given her to the most debase and dangerous brothel he could find. At worse, he would have taken Lydia as well, and sold her to the mine where she would have been working in her own grave. You aren’t responsible for the outcomes of the systems, the humans are. You protected Lydia so well, and the other wolves in your care that they don’t even know what they have to be thankful for. They disrespect you because they can’t even understand what you have saved them from.” Pepin was breathless by the time he had finished.

Winnie said nothing. She simply walked back to the barn, with Pepin carrying the pot behind her. He couldn’t believe he had missed how shattered she was. Like everyone else, he had been fooled by her unaffected exterior. She had been freed from the House of Heaton, but she was keeping her true self enslaved within her mind. Pepin knew he and Aoife were to blame for that, and he had to do what he could to repair his alienated sister to the Winnie that he used to know. Undoubtedly, he would speak to Lydia and the other she wolves, but having Winnie forgive herself would take more time. Aoife would have known exactly what to say to her. He wished she was with him now. He hooked the pot over the fire, and stayed close by for the rest of the morning.

Soon enough, the morning turned into the late afternoon, and the pack had been fed and fuelled with broth, and the milk that the pups had great delight in handing out. Ewan was organising another search party to find Conri and Fidella. Iselda was fortifying the defences in case they were found by the humans. She had also raced ahead to find the best escape route should it be needed. Winnie and Pepin were calculating how to make the rations they had stretch further, and were attempting to store them in manageable sizes in case an unexpected flight needed to be taken again. Many of the other members were bringing back wood and water that would keep them warm and satisfied through the night. Normally, the pups would have their reading lessons at this time, but since Fidella wasn’t there, Bruno had written the alphabet into the mud with a stick, and proceeded to ask the other pups to identify what each letter was.

A roar from the look-out interrupted the camp as the wolves grabbed their weapons, and the pups rushed into the barn. After the warning, what followed was a nervous silence that crafted a fearful ambience. Humans would make more noise, wouldn’t they? Why only a single roar? Were the guards attacked? Dead? A collective sigh of relief could be heard when Einar and Isla ran through the gateway. Pepin brought out some blankets so that they could shift, and the pack cheered at their arrival. When they stood in their human form, their friends and pack members took a step back, each bending their knees in respect. Each wolf told their human that it was the right thing to do, but Conri and Fidella both looked on perplexed.

“Don’t do that, please stand. We are the same as we ever were.” Fidella called out to them.

Ewan knew that wasn’t true, something had happened, and they were far more powerful now. Searching for the scarring on Conri, he couldn’t see any sign of injury, but kept this observation to himself. They obviously didn’t want to be treated differently, and it was his job to ensure the pack ran how the Alpha and Luna wanted it to. Standing up Ewan ran towards his friends, shortly followed by Iselda. They hugged them both, and thanked the Moon Goddess for their safe return. The rest of the pack soon rose and copied their leaders.

“Have you not started on that wolf carving yet, Beta? What have you been doing?” Conri joked, but the incredulous expression on Ewan’s face pushed him into hysterics.

“Don’t get me started,” Ewan joked back. “It seems it’s the fate of the Beta to work twice as hard as the Alpha,” Rolling his eyes, as Conri hit his back in laughter.

Ever the Luna, Fidella already had Iselda telling her all that had happened while they had been gone. It was clear that Fidella loved this pack as if they were her family. In every way that mattered, they were. She also noticed that her Gamma had developed a soft spot for Bruno while she had been gone, not that it was difficult, for he was a very lovable pup.

After they were settled and dressed in new tunics, Winnifred reheated the broth and served her Alpha and Luna.

“Thank-you, Winnifred. This is very tasty, you are part witch to conjure so much from so little. We will restock before our next destination” Conri complimented her.

The couple devoured their food, wondering if their enhanced bond made them twice as hungry too. During their journey back to the camp, they had agreed on their next destination, and the plans for the rest of the evening. It seemed it was easier to find the right path, now that their hearts beat as one. Opening the mind link, so that the guards protecting the perimeter could hear, Conri shared their plans.

“Tonight we will celebrate that, despite our enemy’s best efforts, we all escaped, and our pack remains whole. Be joyful, but be sensible, because tomorrow we will head to the mountains like we first intended and winter will be our friend, because humans cannot survive the rugged range in such cold weather.”

Cheering erupted. The leaders were sure that there would be many struggles on the journey tomorrow, but they sat together thankful that the moon Goddess had protected them this far. Conri began carving the wolf onto the side of the barn, acting on the suggestions of his pack to make the eyes narrower and the gape wider. They wanted to show that they were as defiant as ever, and this was the mood of the evening.

Pepin watched as Winnie guided the pups into the barn for an early night, promising them warm milk and stories. She would have made a wonderful mother, and Pepin knew he had played a part in taking that chance away from her too. It saddened him to see how she kept herself on the outskirts of the pack. Unwanted usefulness was her self-adopted state. Knowing she wouldn’t re-join the party, Pepin decided to approach the she wolves from earlier.

“Lydia. That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes” She replied, more flirty than concerned.

“I saw what happened earlier, with Winnie. She tells me it is because you think she sold your sister.” Pepin spoke softly, trying to be understanding.

“The matriarch did sell my sister. She’s more human than wolf. She doesn’t deserve freedom, while my sister is imprisoned.” She responded defiantly, and Ewan could recognise the description that Winnie gave of her.

“If Magnus had asked you to take your sister’s place, to save her from that fate, would you have done it?”

“Yes!”

“Then why do you think Livia, your older sister, didn’t do the same for you?” Pepin waited for a response that never arrived.

“Winnifred saved more wolves than she sacrificed. My son, mate, and I are included in that. As much as you would hate to admit it, she saved you too. If you could trade any of the wolves in the Ludus to save your sister, would you have done it?” Pepin questioned her.

“Yes!” She confirmed, determinedly.

“Then you are no different to Winnifred, and you no different from your sister who offered herself in your place.”

Lydia was momentarily speechless, and Pepin made the most of her contemplative state, hoping he had reached her.

“If she had been responsible for your mate and child being separated and lost forever, would you be so forgiving? Would you forgive Magnus?” Lydia smirked.

“Never, but I know who my true enemy was, and he was yours as well. Your sister and you are still alive, so are our Alpha, Luna and Beta because of the decisions and sacrifices that woman made. You thanked her today by tipping water over her, punishing her for something you confessed you would have done to save your sister and probably would still do. If anything like this happens again, I will tell Conri and Fidella. She is my chosen sister, and I think it’s time she was protected for a change.” Lydia nodded, seeming a little less vehement than she was before, but frightened most of all.

Early the next morning, the pack members left, some members looking spritelier than others. Sniggers, snorts and giggles sporadically burst through the pack as they passed the devious-looking wolf carving that was watching them leave.

“Is it me or does its eyes follow you?” Ewan asked Conri, who simply smiled mischievously.

It would scare most humans, and the rebellious message was explicit. The pups only waved to it as they passed, used to the wolves that their leader would make. Cautious, nervous and hopeful, the pack made the long trek in the direction of the mountains, taking strength from each other.

Hours later, the stumbling man looked around the barn frustrated. It seemed he had only missed them by hours. Gripping his side he tried to ignore the sharp sting and itchy sensation as he doused the bandage in vinegar that he had stolen from the physician and kept in his small bag. Filling his pouch with water and drinking the milk from the cow, Caius proceeded to follow the pack, ensuring he covered their tracks as well as his own. It was time for him to start the life that he deserved.