The First Wolves

3. SECRETS FROM THE SCROLLS

Spreading the map over the well placed tree stumps, in their minimalist sleeping area, Fidella placed four heavy stones in each corner. Conri lifted the chest that contained the scrolls from the House of Heaton and placed it by his mate’s feet. Understandably, Otto was the first of many pack members queuing at the perceived perimeter of their barely there quarters. Rufus, his closest friend, was there to support him. He rarely spoke, but he was a natural leader among the warriors and the scar that ran diagonally across his face was a testament to his combat history, even though he never explained it. Conri spoke to both of them about their tracking skills, while Fidella riffled through the chest to locate the correct scroll. Although the scroll was small, it seemed heavy to the Luna as she placed it on the table, weighed down by the information it contained about the person’s loved ones. Trepidation filled the small area, stealing air from their lungs as everyone held their breath. Fidella unravelled the coiled fate that was hidden in the papyrus, quickly glancing over the words her pack members couldn’t read.

“It only mentions your wife, Holda. It says she was sold to the city of Sabini, and she was bought by a pleasure house called Voluptas’ Virgins.” Fidella laid the scroll down on the ground.

Conri placed a small wooden counter on Sabini, including it in the journey route that they would follow.

Otto’s face was unreadable, happy that his mate was only three days' ride away, but worried that he still had no news about his children. Rufus patted his back, offering a small smile to help him grasp onto the positive, his mate was reachable.

“If your children weren’t mentioned, it could mean they escaped when you told them to,” Rufus suggested, and Otto allowed himself to be calmed by the thought.

Fidella reached out to touch Otto’s hand, hoping he could feel the support she gave him.

“Once we have discovered the location of everyone’s family, we will decide on a plan to bring them home. Just wait until the morning.” Conri explained.

Otto nodded his head, still overwhelmed that he would have his mate in his arms again soon.

“Rufus, do you want me to look for your scroll?” Fidella asked, softly.

“No thank-you Luna. There is only me left, I know what happened to my family.” He gave a slight smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and crinkled his scar.

The unpractised movement made him seem older than his years. Both leaders felt a combined sympathy for Rufus, who was always so withdrawn from the pack, but loyal in his responsibilities and to his friend Otto. They were beginning to understand why he found it so difficult to form attachments.

The night progressed slowly, with the queue waiting patiently for news of their lost people. Their time wasn’t segmented equally, Conri and Fidella gave each wolf the attention they needed, for as long as they needed. Each pack member laughed, cried and grieved with their Alpha and Luna for as long as they needed to. The music had long finished, with the celebration coming to its natural end. The map was crowded with circular counters, each a representation of a father, mother, child, brother or sister. When the final pack member left, Conri studied the map in closer detail. There were so many blocks on the coast, and in the blue of the sea that the body of water could hardly be seen. These were the wolves who had been sold to the galleys, a fate so full of hardship that it was used a punishment for citizens of the empire. Some counters were scattered across towns, some were serving in villas, and others were sold to business men in the town. A few of the counters were pushed into foreign lands, either sold to the armies to be body slaves of the commanders, or sold to the gladiator schools across the ever expanding empire. There were many counters around the edge of the map because the scrolls hadn’t been detailed enough to give a sale location, which meant that there was no way of finding out what had happened to them. For the pack members, the stormy cloud of the unknown was more painful than the absolutism of loss. Lastly, the blocks that hadn’t been moved from the chest were acting as miniature gravestones, indicative of the lives taken by humans. Conri’s mother was amongst them. He had only nodded when Fidella had confirmed it. When they found a place to call home, Fidella vowed to the Moon Goddess that all of their losses would be remembered, somehow.

Ewan shuffled into the space, trying not to knock anything of importance over in such cramped conditions.

“I walked Odette home, she seemed a little calmer when I left her with Winnie. She told me what happened to her son. Terrible.”

Ewan shifted his feet wearing an uncomfortable expression.

“I was hoping you could look at my parents’ scroll, but it’s late, so I can wait until the morn…”

“No you bloody won’t,” Fidella interrupted, pushing him down on a little stump. “What were their names?”

“Winnifred said they were called Pepin and Aoife. She shouted when I asked her. I had more questions, but she was so vicious that I decided to ask again another time,” Ewan confessed, hurt that Winnie, like the man who raised him, was reluctant to tell him more about his own parents.

Fidella pulled Aoife’s scroll from the chest first. Breaking the seal, she unravelled it with the same respect she had all the others. Her eyes widened as she read the words, both Conri and Ewan leant forward with bated breath.

“It reads: Aoife was the first female gladiatrix for the House of Heaton, representing Cornelius Heaton as a free wolf. In her thirtieth year, she became the trainer for the House of Heaton, but it also documents her taking part in one final arena display to celebrate the wonder of the heavy snow that fell that year. She was accompanied by another gladiator called Pepin. After the Serfdom State of Wolves Bill was passed, Aoife rebelled against her master, Magnus Heaton, and was sent to her execution eight months after her initial position of trainer had been granted. On the wedding day of Magnus and Antonia Heaton, Aoife was sent to the arena. She was condemned to the death by the Damnation of Beasts. Despite her owner’s request to have the body returned, it was mistakenly placed in an unmarked mass grave,” Fidella finished reading, and looked at Ewan.

Tears made his eyes bulge and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow the saliva that had rushed to his mouth. Ewan could barely contemplate the horror of her death, and the undignified treatment of her body.

“It sounds like your mum was a profound and exceptional she-wolf. You must be very proud,” Conri consoled his friend and Beta.

Ewan nodded, quickly brushing the unbidden tears from his face. Immense pride stunned him. He had had a mother, and she had been fearless. Conri placed her counter back into the chest with the other wolves who would remain people of the past. Ewan pulled some papyrus from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Fidella.

“I’ve never read this. The man who raised me was called Caius. He refused to tell me any details about my parents, just like Winnifred, he only ever told me that they were strong and brave. He told me that my mother dictated this letter to him, and that when I asked he would read it to me. I never asked him. I was too angry with him to ask for favours. Every day, I would trace my finger over the word ‘mum’. It was the only word she had written in her own hand. It was the first word I learnt to read. I didn’t learn many, much to Caius’ dismay. I didn’t need Caius to tell me that my mother loved me, I could see it in her shaky handwriting. Will you read it for me, Luna?”

Fidella carefully took the folded words from him, and was moved by the honour their Beta had given her. She cleared her throat, swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed and took a deep breath, then read the words that Ewan’s mother had been determined her son should hear. Many phrases were caught in the emotional gorge of her sympathy, causing her voice to shake. Fidella had tripped in her delivery when she told Ewan that he was ‘born from love’, that ‘his birth was the reason she knew love was revered’ and that the love a mother has for her son is ‘a gift from all the Gods and Goddesses’. The Luna swallowed continuously, trying to finish reading the letter without crying. After Aoife had proclaimed that being Ewan’s mother ‘was the best thing she would ever be’, Fidella paused to allow Ewan to expunge his tears. He hunched forward, covering his face with his shoulders shaking. Conri stood next to him squeezing his neck in consolation. Fidella could hear Einar and Brodie, Conri’s and Ewan’s wolves, whimpering in sorrow.

“Should I carry on?” Fidella asked, hesitantly.

Ewan simply nodded.

“She finished the letter saying, ‘I love you every second of this lifetime, and every lifetime after’,” She finished reading, and fell into a respectful silence.

Conri turned around, hiding his face from the raw grief in the room. Aoife had been a force, Conri knew this from her honest words in a painful letter. She was a loss that the Goddess would mourn. His thoughts were interrupted by the gentle, yet insistent hand that pulled him and Ewan into a supportive embrace. It never stopped amazing Conri how his mate always knew what to do to give people the solace they needed. It was a quality he was slowly trying to mimic from her.

“Can we find out what happened to my father?” Ewan asked.

Fidella opened her mind link with Conri. She was worried that more bad news would be too much in one night.

“Tell him. Like me, he needs to face all the pain in one go, to drip it through would be cruel.” Conri reasoned, gesturing that she should find the scroll.

Conri sat beside Ewan, resting his arm across his Beta’s shoulders. Fidella unwrapped the scroll, and allowed her eyes to read ahead. In contrast to the mood in the room, she started to giggle. She looked up at the astonished faces, and tried to control her fit of gaiety.

“I’m sorry, your father’s story begins with great humour. Apparently, Cornelius found Pepin in an alley fight that your mum rescued him from. It also says that Pepin had an instant attraction to Aoife. He is described as an able and free warrior, and it goes onto say he gained notoriety as a pit fighter called ‘The Brawling Beta’.” Both Conri and Ewan were smiling by this point, “It says that after interfering in a punishment, Pepin was sent to the mines in Ancona. The tone of the scroll is completely different in this part. Magnus must have added to it.” Fidella wrapped the scroll, and placed it back in the chest.

Picking up a counter, she placed it over Ancona, and smiled at her family.

“I’ve always wanted to see the coast.” She stated, adding the mines to the places they had to infiltrate and rescue.

“We will call a pack leader meeting tomorrow, let’s get some rest now.” Fidella suggested, as Ewan made his way to the perimeter, his mind was too busy to try and rest.

Conri lay on his back looking up at the canopy of leaves that protected them from the worst of the weather, and Fidella huddled by his side. She traced her fingers down his chiselled jaw, and across his neck where only she could touch her alpha, it was a gesture of the trust they had for each other to let their throats be so exposed. Taking a moment, she admired the beauty of their mating mark, the connection between the two wolves as they stared intimately into each other’s eyes, while Isla’s paw rested on Einar’s chest. Lowering her hand to his ribs, she felt them expand which each worried breath he inhaled.

“The rescues ahead will be difficult,” Fidella began, knowing what concerned her mate.

“They have lost so much already, a wrong choice of mine could add to their troubles, yet I am a leader with little experience. A wolf who only recently learnt of packs.” He voiced his anxieties.

“In that time we have freed our kind, began a pack and started rescuing those who cannot save themselves. There were once alphas who had the traditions from a thousand years and experience of their lifetimes who couldn’t boast as much, my love.” She pointed out, determined to make him see his worth.

Turning to her side, he looked into her face, her belief in him was both strengthening and frightening at the same time. What if he let her down?

“What if I let you down?” She asked, catching the end of his internal doubts.

“That’s not possible.” He answered, without hesitation.

“Then you have your answer from me too. The Goddess has plans for us, I know it.” She insisted, and her faith was enough to chase his reservations away. “Besides, they aren’t your decisions, they are our decisions. I am an alpha as much as you are.” She reminded him, as if he would never forget her strength.

“I know you fight so intelligently, and lead so compassionately. You are the natural leader, and I can only hope to emulate you.” Conri praised her.

Lightly placing a kiss on her lips, he tucked her under his body to keep her warm, but also for her protection in case they were found in the night. He may lose members on their journey, but he would never lose his Luna, even if he had to follow her in death's arms.