it. I’m the eldest, so that might carry some weight with him. Don’t let him go south. I don’t want him getting himself killed. Our Master’s got enough grief to deal with already.’
He nodded gravely. ‘I’ll take the others along as well. We’ll split up once we reach the Tolnedrans. Belsambar can go talk with Mara, and Beldin should be able to find Issa.’
‘That’s probably the best plan. Warn Beldin and Belsambar about Belzedar. Let’s all keep an eye on him. Sometimes he’s a little impulsive.’
‘Do we want to involve the Dals or the Melcenes?’
I squinted up at the sky. The summer storm had blown off, and only a few puffy white clouds remained. ‘The Master didn’t mention them,’ I replied a little dubiously. ‘You might want to warn them, though. They probably wouldn’t care to participate in a religious war – considering the fact that they don’t have a God – but you should probably suggest that they stay out of the way.’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever you think best. Will you talk with the twins?’
‘Why don’t you do that? I’ve got a long way to go, and the Alorns are spread out all over the north. It might take me quite a little while to find Belar.’
‘Good hunting,’ he said with a faint smile.
‘Very funny, Belmakor,’ I replied dryly.
‘One does one’s best, old boy. I’ll go speak with the twins.’ And he sauntered off in the direction of the twins’ tower. Not much ever ruffled Belmakor – at least on the surface.
Since speed was important, I decided to change into the form of an eagle and fly north, which proved to be a mistake. I think I’ve already mentioned the fact that I don’t fly very well. I’ve never really been able to get the hang of it. For one thing, I’m not all that comfortable with feathers, and for another – wings or not – the sight of all that empty air under me makes me decidedly uncomfortable, so I flap a great deal more than is really necessary, and that can become very tiring after a while.
The major problem, however, lay in the fact that the longer I remained in the form of an eagle, the more the character of the eagle became interwoven with my own. I began to be distracted by tiny movements on the ground, and I had fierce urges to swoop down and kill things.
This obviously wasn’t working, so I settled back to earth, resumed my own form, and sat for a time to catch my breath, rest my arms and consider alternatives. The eagle, for all his splendor, is really a stupid bird, and I didn’t want to be continually distracted from my search for Belar by every mouse or rabbit on the ground beneath me.
I considered the possibility of the horse. A horse can run very fast for short periods, but he soon tires, and he’s not very much brighter than the eagle. I decided against taking the form of a horse and moved on to other possibilities. An antelope can run for days without tiring, but the antelope is a silly creature, and too many other animals on this vast plain looked upon him as a food-source. I didn’t really have the time to stop to persuade every passing predator to go find something else to eat. I needed a form with speed and stamina and a sufficiently intimidating reputation to keep other creatures at a distance.
After a while it occurred to me that all the traits I was looking for were to be found in the wolf. Of all the creatures of the plain and forest, the wolf is the most intelligent, the swiftest, and the most tireless. Not only that, no sane animal crosses a wolf if he can possibly avoid it.
It took me a while to get it right. Beldin had taught us all to assume the form of a bird, but I was on my own when it came to putting on fur and paws.
I’ll admit that I botched it the first few times. Have you ever seen a wolf with feathers and a beak? You really wouldn’t want to. I finally managed to put all thoughts of birds out of my mind and came much closer to my idealized conception of what a wolf ought to look like.
It’s a strange sort of process, this changing of form. First you fill your mind with the image of the creature you want to become, and then you direct your Will inward and sort of melt yourself into the image. I wish Beldin were around. He could explain it far better than I can. The important thing is just to keep trying – and to change back quickly if you get it wrong. If you’ve left out the heart, you’re in trouble.
After I’d made the change, I checked myself over rather carefully to make sure I hadn’t left anything out. I’d imagine that I looked just a bit ridiculous groping at my head and ears and muzzle with my paws, but I wanted to be certain that other wolves wouldn’t laugh at me when they saw me.
Then I started across the grassland. I soon realized that my choice had been a good one. As soon as I got used to the idea of running on all fours, I found the shape of the wolf quite satisfactory and the mind of the wolf most compatible with my own. After an hour or so, I was pleased to note that I was covering the ground at least as fast as I had when floundering through the air as an eagle. I quickly discovered that it’s a fine thing to have a tail. A tail helps you to keep your balance, and it acts almost like a rudder when you’re making quick turns. Not only that, when you have a fine, bushy tail, you can wrap it around yourself at night to ward off the chill. You really ought to try it sometime.
I ran north for a week or so, but I still hadn’t come across any Alorns. Then on one golden afternoon in late summer I encountered a young she-wolf who was feeling frolicsome. She had, as I recall, fine haunches and a comely muzzle.
‘Why so great a hurry, friend?’ she said to me coyly in the way of wolves. Even in my haste, I was startled to find that I could understand her quite clearly. I slowed, and then I stopped.
‘What a splendid tail you have,’ she complimented me, quickly following up on her advantage, ‘and what excellent teeth.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied modestly. ‘Your own tail is also quite fine, and your coat is truly magnificent.’ I admired her openly.
‘Do you really think so?’ she said, preening herself. Then she nipped playfully at my flank and dashed off a few yards, trying to get me to chase her.
‘I would gladly stay a while so that we might get to know each other better,’ I told her, ‘but I have a most important errand.’
‘An errand?’ she scoffed with her tongue lolling out in amusement. ‘Whoever heard of a wolf with any errand but his own desires?’
‘I am not really a wolf,’ I explained.
‘Really? How remarkable. You look like a wolf, and you talk like a wolf, and you certainly smell like a wolf, but you say that you are not a wolf. What are you, then?’
‘I am a man.’ I said it rather deprecatingly. Wolves have strong opinions about certain things, I discovered.
She sat, a look of amazement on her face. She had to accept what I said as the truth, since wolves are incapable of lying. ‘You have a tail,’ she pointed out, ‘and I have never seen a man with a tail before. You have a fine coat. You have four feet. You have long, pointed teeth, sharp ears, and a black nose, and yet you say you are a man.’
‘It is very complicated.’
‘It must be,’ she conceded. ‘I think I will run with you for a while, since you must attend to this errand of yours. Perhaps we can discuss it as we go along, and you can explain this complicated thing to me.’
‘If
